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Archive for June, 2008

Preterism is well defined at theopedia.com as “a view in Christian eschatology which holds that some or all of the biblical prophecies concerning the Last Days refer to events which took place in the first century after Christ’s birth, especially associated with the destruction of Jerusalem in 70 AD. The term preterism comes from the Latin praeter, meaning past, since this view deems certain biblical prophecies as past, or already fulfilled.”

There are two main kinds of preterism: full preterism and partial preterism (though these labels are disputed by each side). Partial preterism is also called moderate preterism and orthodox preterism, while full preterism is also called consistent preterism, hyper-preterism, and radical preterism. I use the terms “full” and “partial” to denote the two views, because they seem to me to be both less charged and more accurate than the other labels. Some examples of contemporary partial preterists are Kenneth Gentry, R.C. Sproul, and Gary DeMar. Some examples of contemporary full preterists are Edward E. Stevens and Max King. The most historically significant case for full preterism was J. Stuart Russell’s The Parousia, first published in 1878.

Full preterists believe that all eschatological events were fulfilled in the first century, and we now living in the new heavens and the new earth. For full preterists, Jesus’ second coming was not a bodily and visible return at the end of history, but a spiritual return manifested in judgment on Jerusalem via the Roman army in 70 A.D. Full preterists also the final resurrection took place “spiritually” during the first century. Full preterism is viewed as heretical by most conservative Christians and creedally heterodox by all Christians (including most full preterists themselves).

Partial preterists believe that prophecies concerning the destruction of Jerusalem, the great tribulation, the anti-Christ, and a “judgment coming” of Christ were fulfilled during the Roman siege of Jerusalem culminating in the destruction of the temple in 70 A.D. Textually, partial preterists view the Olivet Discourse (Matthew 24, Mark 13, Luke 21) and the majority of the book of Revelation as referring to first century events. Partial preterists maintain, however, that the second coming (bodily and undeniable), the final judgment, the final resurrection, and the inaugeration of the new heavens and new earth await future fulfillment. Partial Preterists are almost always amillennialists or postmillennialists.

With regard to Revelation, this means that chapters 1-19 (in the partial preterist view) are primarily concerned with first century events – events that most of John’s original readers would experience within their lifetime. For example, Kenneth Gentry views the seven seals of Revelation chapter 6 and the seven trumpets of chapters 8-9 as referring to various events during the 67-70 period of the first Roman Jewish War. Other examples: he views the beast of chapter 13 as referring to the Roman Emperor Nero (and more basically to the entire Roman Empire), and he views the great prostitute of chapter 17 and Babylon of chapter 18 as referring to first century Jerusalem.

Preterism is one of the four most common hermeneutical approaches to Revelation. The others are:
1) Futurism – this views holds that the bulk of Revelation refers to events in the future, just prior to return of Christ. This is by far the majority evangelical interpretation.
2) Historicism – this views holds that the events of Revelation find fulfillment throughout the course of church history. This view was very popular among the Reformers (who identified the papacy with the anti-Christ) but is less common today.
3) Idealism – this view holds that Revelation does not specific historical events as much as the timeless struggle between good and evil and the eventual triumph of Christ.

I do not have space in this post to give a thorough explanation of why I lean towards the partial preterist interpretation, but I do hope to return to this topic in future posts in more depth. For now, I will simply summarize several of the main points that incline me towards partial preterism at this point in my study.

1) The first and greatest factor that inclines me towards preterism is the teaching of Christ in the synoptic Gospels that his return would be within the lifetime of many of his hearers.

Consider these statements in Matthew:

When sending out the twelve, Jesus said to them 10:23:
“When you are persecuted in one place, flee to another. I tell you the truth, you will not finish going through the cities of Israel before the Son of Man comes.”

While teaching about discipleship, Jesus said in 16:27-28:
“For the Son of Man is going to come in his Father’s glory with his angels, and then he will reward each person according to what he has done. 28I tell you the truth, some who are standing here will not taste death before they see the Son of Man coming in his kingdom.”

And finally, during the Olivet discourse, after mentioning is glorious coming, Jesus says in 24:34:

“I tell you the truth, this generation will certainly not pass away until all these things have happened.”

The force of these passages in increased by these facts: (1) they each express nearness in variously different ways and thus clarify and corroborate each other; (2) they are corroborated by other New Testament passages concerning the “nearness” of Christ’s return (e.g., Revelation 1:1, 3, 22:7, 20); (3) they accord remarkably with many of Jesus’ parables and statements of judgment against “this generation” towards the end of his earthly ministry (e.g., cf. Matthew 23:35-36).

I don’t want to take the space here to go into the various reasons that I find the typical evangelical futurist interpretations of these passages unconvincing, but let me simply summarize by stating that all too often they seem to be an exercise in hermeneutical gymnastics that do not give sufficient weight to the most straightforward reading of Jesus’ statements. I encourage a fresh consideration of how Jesus’ statements would have been understood by his original hearers in their historical context.

2) The second factor that inclines me towards preterism is the nature of biblical prophecy. Too often the Olivet Discourse and the book of Revelation are subjected to a wooden literalism that no one uses to read Old Testament prophecy. But New Testament prophecy is consiously in the tradition of Old Testament prophecy, often using the same kind of imagistic, magisterial language. Here is one example – cf. Matthew 24:29 with Isaiah 13:10-13 or Ezekiel 32:7-8. If Scripture speaks of the heavens melting and the sun ceasing to shine to describe the historical judgments of Babylon and Egypt, shouldn’t we allow it to use the same kind of grandiose language to describe the historical judgment of Jerusalem?

3) A third factor that inclines me towards preterism is the remarkable congruence between Josephus’ account of the siege on Jerusalem and the biblical testimony. Its tough to deny, for example, the force of Gentry’s line by line comparison of Josephus and Revelation 8-9. If nothing else, reading Josephus (and Tacitus) on the destruction of Jerusalem and the temple will give you a heightened appreciation for the historical and theological significance of this event, which is clearly anticipated in some texts of the New Testament (e.g., Luke 21:6, 20, 24, Revelation 11:2).

4) A fourth factor is develping a fresh appreciate for the original audience of the Olivet Discourse. Everything in the Olivet Discourse is flavored with the distinctives of Jesus’ original context and the needs of his original hearers. Consider:

a) “when you hear of wars and tumults, do not be terrified” (21:9)

b) “before all this they will lay their hands on you and persecute you” (21:12)

c) “when you see Jerusalem surrounded by armies, then know that its desolation has come near” (21:20)

d) “then let those who are in Judea flee to the mountains, and let those who are inside the city depart, and let not those who are out in the country enter it” (21:21)

e) “when these things begin to take place, straighten up and raise your heads, because your redemption is drawing near” (22:28)

What meaning would Jesus’ words have had to his original hearers if the “you” and the “those who are inside the city” which are emboldened in the above sentences referred not to them, but to people thousands of years later?

I will post more on this topic in the future. To end this post I will provide some pictures of the destruction of Jerusalem.

This is an 1850 painting by David Roberts entitled The Siege and Destruction of Jerusalem:

This is a map of Jerusalem in 70 AD with the temple in yellow:

This is an 1867 painting by Francesco Hayez entitled The Destruction of the Temple in Jerusalem:

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The other morning I woke up because something was ticking my neck. I thought, hmmm, thats strange, I wonder what that could be. The tickling started to move down my spine, and I suddenly realized, its a bug! I flicked it off in a panic and saw the hugest, hairiest, nastiest cockroach you can imagine crawling across the sheets. Gross! If you had waved smelling salt under my nose or dumped a bucket of freezing water on me, I don’t think I would have gotten out of bed as quickly!

The worst part was that it crawled under the bed before I could stomp on it, and I couldn’t find it afterwards, so even though it was around 6:00 AM, there was no way I could fall back asleep. And you don’t need to guess what I was thinking about when I was trying to fall asleep the next night!

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I used to avoid the book of Revelation completely. I remember in High School I did one of those read through the bible in a year projects, and for the New Testament section, I just stopped after Jude, because Revelation seemed too daunting. I had read enough of it to know how challenging it was, and I seriously doubted that I would be able to make any progress in understanding it. In addition, it seemed irrelevant to my life – how am I supposed to be edified by this bizarre apocalyptic literature?

However, in the last year or so I have developed a much greater appreciation for how much we need the difficult and strange books of the Bible like Revelation. I would even say that the parts of the bible that we find most difficult and offensive are probably the ones we need most urgently. The more a certain book or teaching rubs us the wrong way, or is a struggle to understand, the greater potential for learning and correction.

Here are seven reasons why we should not avoid difficult books in the Bible like Revelation:

1) According to II Timothy 3:16, “all Scripture … is useful.” Useful was not a word I would have used to describe the book of Revelation until recently. But apparently it should be. If every part of the Bible is equally from God, then every part should be received with gratitude and held in high esteem.

2) Twice (once at its beginning and once at its end) Revelation pronounces a blessing on the person who reads and heeds its word:

“Blessed is the one who reads the words of this prophecy, and blessed are those who hear it and take to heart what is written in it.” (1:3)

“Blessed is he who keeps the words of the prophecy in this book.” (22:7)

One could find similar statements in other difficult biblical books. For example, as difficult as we often find the Old Testament law, blessing is attached to reading and obeying it (e.g., Deuteronomy 30:16, Joshua 1:8).

3) If we only read the parts of the Bible with which we are already comfortable, we are not really submitting to it (at least not as fully as we could be). We are not completely under it. Think about it – if a son obeys his father only when it makes sense to him, and when it is in accord with what he already wants to do, but never obeys when it hurts, or costs, or is difficult to understand – is this sincere obedience? True submission manifests itself in a willingness to hear what is difficult as well as what is natural, a willingness to actually be corrected and changed.

4) If every part of the Bible makes a unique contribution to the overall biblical message, then by erecting “a canon within a canon” we can actually alter or distort what God is communicating in the Bible. By never preaching from the Old Testament prophets, for example, we can develop an insufficient theology of God’s wrath, the seriousness of sin, and God’s sovereignty over the nations. By never reading from the Psalms, we can develop a simplified or flat view of spirituality. If we neglect Jude, we won’t be as well equipped to respond to false teachers in the church. And so on – each chunk of the bible makes an important contribution to the overall message.

Take the book of Nahum as an example. The book of Nahum starts off, “The LORD is a jealous and avenging God; the LORD is avenging and wrathful; the LORD takes vengeance on his adversaries and keeps wrath for his enemies” (1:2, ESV), and then proceeds to pronounce an intense prophetic judgment against Ninevah (the capital of Assyria). Many preachers today avoid texts like this, perhaps fearing that they won’t be well received in our culture of pluralism and tolerance. But the book of Nahum tells us important things about the God we worship (and it makes a lot more sense when you understand how unthinkably brutal ancient Assyria was). We don’t need to be embarrassed of anything in the Bible, or afraid of where it will lead us if we believe it. This is what it means to confess the Bible as God’s word: we can trust it and lean into it wholeheartedly.

5) The word canon literally means “measuring rod.” If the canon of Scripture is our measuring rod for discerning truth, and we confine ourselves to only certain parts of it, then we are “measuring” (discerning truth) with an incomplete measuring rod. How then can we expect to be successful in distinguishing what is false from what is true?

6) A foundational principle of biblical interpretation is to “Scripture interpret Scripture.” We need all the various parts of the Bible to understand each other. There is so much in the New Testament, for example, that presupposes a familiarity with the Old Testament – while the Old Testament itself is very much incomplete without Christ and the New Testament. By avoiding certain parts of the Bible, we limit our understanding of the rest. And if nothing else, reading the tougher parts of the Bible will make you appreciate the easier parts!

7) The Bible’s diversity is a safeguard against reductionism, which is the cause of many theological errors. Learning to appreciate, rather than resist, the vast diversity of biblical genre and terminology can help us cultivate a godly and healthy openness in theological reflection and dialogue. Truth is one, but it can be looked at from different angles and communicated with different words and styles. Diversity is good. Even God has diversity built within his Triune being. Good is inherently diverse, while evil is monotonously repetitive.

Recognizing the Bible’s diversity can deliver us from the attitude that says, “you have to say things just like I say them.” After all, if God himself has chosen to spoke in diverse languages, through diverse people(s), at diverse times, in diverse situations, through diverse means of revelation, in diverse genres (law, proverb, oracle, narrative, poetry, epistle, etc.), to communicate a message which is essentially one – if God himself had done this, then shouldn’t we be willing to accept other Christians who use different words and styles than we do?


Part of the reason I go into all this I am reading through Revelation in my devotions now and I am really enjoying it. I just finished chapters 8 and 9 this morning. While different hermeneutical approaches to Revelation (e.g., preterism, futurism, idealism, historicism, etc.) yield important differences of interpretation, I am convinced that there are some theological emphases in Revelation that are so forceful and clear that they can be agreed upon by thoughtful readers from all these different perspectives.

Here are two theological emphases that I have noticed so far in chapters 1-9 that are not dependent upon any particular hermeneutical approach:

1) Revelation has a high Christology: almost every chapter emphasizes the deity, authority, and glory of the risen Christ. Even if you understand nothing else in the whole book, its worth reading Revelation for this emphasis alone. You cannot read the description in 1:12-16, for example, without getting a sense of how awesome and glorious and terrifying Christ’s physical appearance is. His authority over nations and kings is highlighted again and again. His atoning death, his intimate involvement in the life of the church, his just judgment on his enemies – all these themes come through forcefully. This is important, it seems to me, because sometimes we put so much emphasis on the humiliation of the cross that we forget the glory of Jesus’ current resurrection life.

In short, Revelation will deliver you from having a wimpy view of Jesus.

Consider, for example, 19:11-16:

11Then I saw heaven opened, and behold, a white horse! The one sitting on it is called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he judges and makes war. 12 His eyes are like a flame of fire, and on his head are many diadems, and he has a name written that no one knows but himself. 13He is clothed in a robe dipped in blood, and the name by which he is called is The Word of God. 14And the armies of heaven, arrayed in fine linen, white and pure, were following him on white horses. 15 From his mouth comes a sharp sword with which to strike down the nations, and he will rule them with a rod of iron. He will tread the winepress of the fury of the wrath of God the Almighty. 16On his robe and on his thigh he has a name written, King of kings and Lord of lords.

2) Revelation shows how intense and glorious is the worship of God in heaven. The vision of chapter 4, for example, is overwhelming: 24 elders, 4 living creatures, innumerable angels (cf. 5:11), lighting and thunder, torches, a rainbow, a sea of glass, incessant praise songs – with God in the center of it all. All the images bombard the reader with a sense of the height and awesomeness of the events described. In an uncertain world, that vision of heaven is enough to base your whole life on.

I am finding Four Views on the Book of Revelation a helpful parallel book as I read. So far Kenneth Gentry’s case for the preterist interpretation has been the most convincing. That will be the focus of my next post on Revelation.

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I like this passage because of the humor in Bree’s humbling, the beauty of Hwin’s response to Aslan, its good theology of the incarnation and fully humanity of Christ, and most of all, Aslan’s profound statement to Bree at very end. Its from The Horse and His Boy again.

“But is he a lion?”

“No, no, of course not,” said Bree in a rather shocked voice.

“All the stories about him in Tashbaan say he is,” replied Aravis. “And if he isn’t a lion why do you call him a lion?”

“Well, you’d hardly understand that at your age,” said Bree. “And I was only a little foal when I left so I don’t quite fully understand it myself.”

(Bree was standing with his back to the green wall while he said this, and the other two were facing him. He was talking in rather a superior tone with his eyes half shut; that was why he didn’t see the changed expression in the faces of Hwin and Aravis. They had good reason to have open mouths and staring eyes; because while Bree spoke they saw an enormous lion leap up from outside and balance itself on the top of the green wall; only it was a brighter yellow and it was bigger and more beautiful and more alarming than any lion they had ever seen. And at once it jumped down inside the wall and began approaching Bree from behind. It made no noise at all. And Hwin and Aravis couldn’t make any noise themselves, no more than if they were frozen.)

“No doubt,” continued Bree, “when they speak of him as a Lion they only mean he’s as strong as a lion or (to our enemies, of course) as fierce as a lion. Or something of that kind. Even a little girl like you, Aravis, must see that it would be quite absurd to suppose he is a real lion. Indeed it would be disrespectful. If he was a lion he’d have to be a Beast just like the rest of us. Why!” (and here Bree began to laugh) “If he was a lion he’d have four paws, and a tail, and Whiskers! . . . Aie, ooh, hoo-hoo! Help!”

For just as he said the word Whiskers one of Aslan’s had actually tickled his ear. Bree shot away like an arrow to the other side of the enclosure and there turned; the wall was too high for him to jump and he could fly no farther. Aravis and Hwin both started back. There was about a second of intense silence.

Then Hwin, though shaking all over, gave a strange little neigh, and trotted across to the Lion.

“Please,” she said, “you’re so beautiful. You may eat me if you like. I’d sooner be eaten by you than fed by anyone else.”

“Dearest daughter,” said Aslan, planting a lion’s kiss on her twitching, velvet nose, “I knew you would not be long in coming to me. Joy shall be yours.”

Then he lifted his head and spoke in a louder voice.

“Now, Bree,” he said, “you poor, proud frightened Horse, draw near. Nearer still, my son. Do not dare not to dare. Touch me. Smell me. Here are my paws, here is my tail, these are my whiskers. I am a true Beast.”

“Aslan,” said Bree in a shaken voice, “I’m afraid I must be rather a fool.”

“Happy the Horse who knows that while he is still young. Or the Human either.

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In a previous post, I argued that Kierkegaard was not an irrationalist, as he is commonly viewed. In this post I want to address a few more issues in reading and interpreting Kierkegaard.

Why study Kierkegaard at all?

If nothing else, understanding Kierkegaard helps us understand modern cultural phenomena better, especially postmodern epistemology, existentialism, and many issues related to the emerging church. In addition, many of Kierkegaard’s religious works, such as his Edifying Discourses, Works of Love, and Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing have (in my opinion) great devotional value. Those of us who are evangelicals can learn much from his radical critique on nominal Christendom, and his critique of Hegel is important within the historical development of Western philosophy. His writings also raise important issues such as the relationship between the individual and “the crowd,” the nature of sin and its relationship to despair and anxiety, the place of paradox within Christianity, the radical nature of Christian discipleship and New Testament ethics, and the nature of faith and its relation to systematic thought, free speculation, and historical analysis. Also, his writing style, with all his emphasis on indirect communication, is fascinating and unique. His biographies reveal a man of great passion, authenticity, and complexity. Though I don’t think we should read Kierkegaard uncritically, I do think he makes a great conversation partner, and if you give him a chance, you will be personally stretched from the effort, even if you end up disagreeing with much of what he said.

Tips on Reading Kierkegaard

Kierkegaard, however, is one of the most misunderstood intellectuals of all time, and his writings are not easy to penetrate. In the interests of encouraging more thoughtful reading of Kierkegaard, I offer three tips on how to approach his writings.

1) First, we must make a distinction between Kierkegaard’s signed (religious) works and his pseudonymous (philsophical/ethical) works. Before the publication of Concluding Unscientific Postscript in February 1846, Kierkegaard used pseudonyms to write many of his books. Either/Or (1843) was written by Victor Eremita, Fear and Trembling was written by Johannes de silentio, Repetition was written by Constantine Constantius, Philosophical Fragments was written by Johannes Climacus, and so on. These pseudonyms all represent variously different points of view. Some even denied that they were Christians. Its hilarious to see how they pick fights with each other in their respective books! Its also funny to consider how Kierkegaard wrote a short article about a week after Either/Or by yet another pseudonym, called simply A.F., entitled “Who is the Author of Either/Or?” These pseudonymous works were Kierkegaard’s attempt to undermine aesthetic and ethical points of view from within their own presuppositions, and were thus very philosophical in nature. At the same time that Kierkegaard was writing these pseudonymous works, however, he was also publishing works under his own name of a more theological and devotional nature, such as his Upbuilding Discourses. At the end of Concluding Unscientific Postscript (also written by Climacus), Kierkegaard attached “A First and Last Declaration” in which he revealed himself to be the author of his pseudonymous works and said the following:

“My pseudonymity or polyonymity has not had an accidental basis in my person…but an essential basis in the production itself…. What has been written, then, is mine, but only insofar as I, by means of audible lines, have placed the life-view of the creating, poetically actual individuality in his mouth, for my relation is even more remote than that of a poet, who poetizes characters and yet in the preface is himself the author. That is, I am impersonally or personally in the third person as a prompter who has poetically produced the authors, whose prefaces in turn are their productions, as their names are also. Thus in the pseudonymous books there is not a single word by me. I have no opinion about them except as a third party, no knowledge of their meaning except as a reader, not the remotest private relation to them, since it is impossible to have that to a doubly reflected communication…. My role is the joint role of being the secretary and, quite ironically, the dialectically reduplicated author of the author or the authors…. My wish, my prayer, is that, if it might occur to anyone to quote a particular saying from the books, he would do me the favor to cite the name of the respective pseudonymous author…. But on the other hand I am very literally and directly the author of, for example, the upbuilding discourses and of every word in them….”

In his published Journals, Kierkegaard wrote:

“As is well known, my authorship has two parts: one pseudonymous and the other signed. The pseudonymous writers are poetized personalities, poetically maintained so that everything they say is in character with their poetized individualities; sometimes I have carefully explained in a signed preface my own interpretation of what the pseudonym said. Anyone with just a fragment of common sense will perceive that it would be ludicrously confusing to attribute to me everything the poetized characters say.”

Sadly, despite these warnings to the contrary, Kierkegaard’s interpreters often fail to grasp the dual nature of his authorship and thus confuse Kierkegaard’s view with the view of his pseudonyms, despite some of the obvious differences between them, such as the fact that many of his pseudonyms claimed to not be Christians, whereas Kierkegaard was training to be a pastor and regularly preaching. If we are to read and understand Kierkegaard well, we must make distinctions between those books which he wrote from his own view, and those which he wrote from an imaginary perspective for the purpose of indirect communication.

2) Second, we must give priority to his signed (religious) works over and against his pseudonymous (philosophical) works in discerning Kierkegaard’s thought. In his book Point of View for My Work as Author, Kierkegaard wrote, “I am a religious author. Supposing that such a reader understands perfectly and appraises critically the individual aesthetic productions, he will nevertheless totally misunderstand me, inasmuch as he does not understand the religious totality in my work as a whole. Suppose, then, that another reader understands my works in the totality of their religious reference, but does not understand a single of the aesthetic productions contained in them – I would say that this lack of understanding is not an essential lack.”

Sadly, Kierkegaard has become famous for books like Fear and Trembling, while his religious works have often been completely neglected. As Kierkegaard put it in his journals, “with my right hand I held out the Upbuilding Discourses, with my left the aesthetic works — and all grasped with the right hand what I held in my left.” If we are to read and interpret Kierkegaard well, we must lean most heavily on books like Works of Love and Practice in Christianity, not his “aesthetic productions.


3) Third, we must view Kierkegaard not merely as a philosopher, but also as a theologian. Kierkegaard’s formal training was in theology, not philosophy. The degree he pursued for ten years (often wastefully) at the University of Copenhagen was in theology, and he planned to be a pastor. He preached many sermons in his life. If it had not been for the Corsair Affair, he allegedly would have stopped writing and entered the pastorate after Concluding Unscientific Postscript. With regard to his writings, his theological and exegetical works are as numerous as his philosophical work, and more essential to his thought according to Kierkegaard himself. And however fierce was his attack on Hegelian philosophy, his attack on nominal Christendom was equally so. According to Kierkegaard, the central problem with which his whole authorship is concerned is not a philosophical one but a religious one, namely, the problem of “how to become a Christian in Christendom” (i.e., in my words, how to arrive at true faith, which is radical and inward, in the midst of nominal state Christianity, which is complacent and safe). Therefore, if we are to read and understand Kierkegaard well, we must consider him not merely as a philosopher, but also as a theologian.

I will close this post with several quotations from Kierkegaard’s religious works, in order to give the reader a feel for this side of Kierkegaard. Any fair assessment of Kierkegaard must consider the Kierkegaard of these statements (and the works from which they are drawn) alongside the Kierkegaard of Fear and Trembling.

His Purity of Heart is to Will One Thing opens thus:

“Father in heaven! What is a man without Thee! What is all that he knows, vast accumulation though it be, but a chipped fragment if he does not know Thee! What is all his striving, could it even encompass a world, but a half-finished work if he does not know Thee: Thee the One, who art one thing and who art all! So may Thou give to the intellect, wisdom to comprehend that one thing; to the heart, sincerity to receive this understanding; to the will, purity that wills only one thing. In prosperity may Thou grant perseverance to will one thing; amid distractions, collectedness to will one thing; in suffering, patience to will one thing. Oh, Thou that giveth both the beginning and the completion, may Thou early, at the dawn of day, give to the young man the resolution to will one thing. As the day wanes, may Thou give to the old man a renewed remembrance of his first resolution, that the first may be like the last, the last like the first, in possession of a life that has willed only one thing.”

From Works of Love:

“No, Christianity is certainly the highest and the supremely highest, but, mark well, to the natural man it is an offense. He who in describing Christianity as the highest omits the middle term, offense, sins against it: he commits an effrontery…. Christianity is in itself too profound, in its movements too serious for dancing and skipping in such free-wheeling frivolity of talk about the higher, the highest, the supremely highest. Through offense goes the way to Christianity. By this is not meant that the approach to Christianity should make one offended by Christianity — this would be another way of hindering oneself from grasping Christianity — but offense guards the approach to Christianity. Blessed is he who is not offended by it.”

From his published Journals:

“Let someone, properly aware that he is a sinner, have martyred himself by all along only being able to imagine Christ as the Holy, so that all he can do is tremble before him, though continuing to hold on to him—what a change when it dawns on him that Christ is the Saviour, is like a doctor one calls upon in one’s weakest moment, whereas before, on the contrary, it was only in one’s best moments that one dared to turn to the Holy.”

From The Lily of the Field, the Bird of the Air:

What then does this either/or signify? What does God demand? For either/or is a demand — as indeed the lovers demand love when ones says to the other, Either/or. But God is not related to thee as a lover, neither art thou related to Him as a lover. The relationship is a different one: that of the creature to the Creator. What then does he demand by this either/or? He demands obedience, unconditional obedience.

From an 1851 sermon entitled “The Changelessness of God”:

“It is not so with well-springs of earth, for they are to be found only in special places. And besides — overwhelming security! — Thou dost not remain, like the spring, in a single place, but Thou dost follow the traveler on his way…. And whenever any human being comes to Thee, of whatever age, at whatever time of day, in whatever state: if he comes in sincerity he always finds Thy love equally warm, like the spring’s unchanged coolness, O Thou who art changeless! Amen!”

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Some fascinating quotes from Edwards on the Trinity, all of which I have drawn from Amy Plantinga Pauw’s The Supreme Harmony of All: The Trinitarian Theology of Jonathan Edwards.

“God has appeared glorious to me, on account of the Trinity. It has made me have exalting thoughts of God that he subsists of three persons; Father, Son, and Holy Ghost.” (Personal Narrative)

“I am not afraid to say twenty things about the Trinity which the Scripture never said.” (Miscellanies #94)

“One alone cannot be excellent, inasmuch as, in such case, there can be no consent. Therefore, there must be a plurality in God; otherwise, there can be no consent in him.” (Miscellanies #117)

“When man was first created, there was a consultation among the persons of the Trinity…. So it is in the work of redemption.” (Sermon on John 16:8)

“It can hardly be said which of the persons in the Trinity has the greatest share in this work of redemption: its all from every one of them.” (idem)

“(God’s reflexive self-love) is the eternal and most perfect and essential act of the divine nature, wherein the Godhead acts to an infinite degree and in the most perfect manner possible. The deity becomes all act, and the divine essence itself flows out & is at it were breathed forth in Love & Joy.”

“The gospel brings to light the love between the Father and the Son, and declares how that love has been manifested in mercy.” (Charity and its Fruits)

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This past weekend two friends and I traveled from St. Louis to Jacksonville for a wedding, spending a whopping total of 32 hours in the car. Ouch! $4/gallon gas prices didn’t make those hours in the car seem any shorter, either. It was definitely worth it, however, to be with good friends and to see my good friend Curtis get married.

Also, all that idle time gave me the opportunity to finally dive into George Marsden’s Jonathan Edwards: A Life, something I have been meaning to do for a long time now. So far I find the book (and Edwards) fascinating. I am learning much, not only about Edwards, but also about the historical setting in which he lived (Pre-revolutionary New England). I will keep you posted on what I learn as I get further into it!

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This is my favorite moment in all the Narnia stories. It occurs in The Horse and His Boy, which is my favorite book in the series. In this scene, the boy Shasta has been left behind, and as he travels on alone he begins to feel sorry for himself because of all the terrible misfortunes he has had. But in the midst of his emptiness, Aslan shows up.

And being very tired and having nothing inside him, (Shasta) felt so sorry for himself that the tears rolled down his cheeks.

What put a stop to all of this was a sudden fright. Shasta discovered that someone or somebody was walking beside him. It was pitch dark and he could see nothing. And the Thing (or Person) was going so quietly that he could hardly hear any footfalls. What he could hear was breathing. His invisible companion seemed to breathe on a very large scale, and Shasta got the impression that it was a very large creature. And he had come to notice this breathing so gradually that he had really no idea how long it had been there. It was a horrible shock.

It darted into his mind that he had heard long ago that there were giants in these Northern countries. He bit his lip in terror. But now that he really had something to cry about, he stopped crying.

The Thing (unless it was a person) went on beside him so very quietly that Shasta began to hope that he had only imagined it. But just as he was becoming quite sure of it, there suddenly came a deep, rich sigh out of the darkness beside him. That couldn’t be imagination! Anyway, he has felt the hot breath of that sigh on his chilly left hand.

If the horse had been any good – or if he had known how to get any good out of the horse – he would have risked everything on a break away and a wild gallop. But he knew he couldn’t make that horse gallop. So he went on at a walking pace and the unseen companion walked and breathed beside him. At last he could bear it no longer.

“Who are you?” he said, barely above a whisper.

“One who has waited long for you to speak,” said the Thing. Its voice was not loud, but very large and deep.

“Are you – are you a giant?” asked Shasta.

“You might call me a giant,” said the Large Voice. “But I am not like the creatures you call giants.”

“I can’t see you at all,” said Shasta, after staring very hard. Then (for an even more terrible idea had come into his head) he said, almost in a scream, “You’re not – not something dead, are you? Oh please – please do go away. What harm have I ever done you? Oh, I am the unluckiest person in the whole world.”

Once more he felt the warm breath of the Thing on his hand and face. “There,” it said, “that is not the breath of a ghost. Tell me your sorrows.”

Shasta was a little reassured by the breath: so he told how he had never known his real father or mother and had been brought up sternly by the fisherman. and then he told the story of his escape and how they were chased by lions and forced to swim for their lives; and of all their dangers in Tashbaan and about his night among the Tombs and how the beasts howled at him out of the desert. And he told about the heat and thirst of their desert journey and how they were almost at their goal when another lion chased them and wounded Aravis. And also, how very long it was since had had anything to eat.

“I do not call you unfortunate,” said the Large Voice.

“Don’t you think it was bad luck to meet so many lions?” said Shasta.

“There was only one lion.” said the Voice.

“What on earth do you mean? I’ve just told you there were at least two lions the first night, and -”

“There was only one, but he was swift of foot.”

“How do you know?”

“I was the lion.”

And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. “I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis. I was the cat who comfroted you among the houses of the dead. I was the lion who drove the jackals from you as you slept. I was the lion who gave the Horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time. And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the baot in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.”

“Then it was you who wounded Aravis?”

“It was I.”

“But what for?”

“Child,” said the Voice, “I am telling you your story, not hers. I tell no one any story but his own.”

“Who are you?” asked Shasta.

“Myself,” said the Voice, very deep and low so that the earth shook: and again “Myself,” loud and clear and gay: and then the third time “Myself,” whispered so softly you could hardly hear it, and yet it seemed to come from all around you as if the leaves rustled with it.

Shasta was no longer afraid that the Voice belonged to something that would eat him, nor that it was the voice of a ghost. But a new and different sort of trembling came over him. Yet he felt glad too.

The mist was truning from black to grey and from grey to white. This must have begun to happen some time ago, but while he had been talking to the Thing he had not been noticing anything else. Now, the whiteness around him became a shining whiteness; his eyes began to blink. Somewhere ahead he heard birds singing. He knew the night was over at last. He could see the mane and ears and head of his horse quite clearly now. A golden light fell on them from the left. He thought it was the sun.

He turned and saw, pacing beside him, taller than a horse, a Lion. The horse did not seem to be afriad of it or else could not see it. It was from the lion that the light came. No one ever saw anything more terrible or more beautiful.

Luckily Shasta had lived all of his life too far south in Calormen to have heard the tales that were whispered in Tashbaan about a dreadful Narnian demon that appeared in the form of a lion. And of course he knew none of the true stories about Aslan, the great Lion, the son of the Emperor-over-sea, the King above all High Kings in Narnia. But after one glance at the Lion’s face he slipped out of the saddle and fell at its feet. He couldn’t say anything but then he didn’t want to say anything, and he knew he needn’t say anything.

The High King above all kings stooped towards him. Its mane, and some strange and solemn perfume that hung about the manhe, was all around him. It touched his forehead with its tongue. He lifted his face and their eyes met. Then instantly the pale brightness of the mist and the feiry brightness of the Lion rolled themselves together into a swirling glory and gathered themselves up and disappeared. He was alone with horse on a grassy hillside under a blue sky. And there were birds singing.

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