Our Fundamentalist Betters

By R.C. Sproul Jr. 3/1/2006

     As I write, I find myself visiting Gwinnett County, Georgia. It’s a good thing that I am only visiting. If I actually lived here, I’d find myself on the wrong side of the law. It seems the county recently passed a law that says you may not have more than eight people living in a single house at a time. Me, my wife, and my seven children puts us over the limit. The law, I’m pretty sure, wasn’t designed to keep families like mine out of the county. That wasn’t the express intent of the county commissioners. Instead, I believe the intent, though this too wasn’t expressed, was to discourage certain immigrant groups from settling here. Rather than pass a law against those immigrant groups, which wouldn’t be politically correct, they came up with their clumsy solution that also affects large families. This particular law has run smack into another law, the law of unintended consequences. Such always happens when we try an end-around around honesty. When we try to have our way, while hiding our convictions, we lose everything we seek.

     It is no new insight to note that in America the evangelical church is worldly and anemic. We are so earthly minded that we are no heavenly good. The anemia comes from the worldliness. But whence comes the worldliness? Like any other sin, we have options for placing its advent. We could argue that it began with the latest fad to hit the church. Or we could go back to the beginning, to the garden. Both have their advantages. It might be more helpful, however, to see the beginning of this descent at the height of the fundamentalist-modernist controversy.

     Fundamentalism is so named for a fundamental reason. It was a movement that concerned itself with affirming, defending, and maintaining the fundamentals of the faith. As a movement, it affirmed the authority of the Bible. It affirmed the accounts therein of creation, of miracles, of the virgin birth, of the death and resurrection of Jesus. It affirmed the necessity of conversion through faith in the finished work of Christ. It affirmed, in short, the defining issues of historical evangelicalism. Why, then, isn’t the controversy called “the evangelical-modernist” controversy? To get at that answer we must ask another. What is it that distinguishes evangelicals and fundamentalists? Suddenly our problem becomes clear. An evangelical is a fundamentalist that wants the respect of modernists, and sells his soul to get it.

     That is to say, the difference between a fundamentalist and an evangelical isn’t the content of their respective beliefs, but the way in which those beliefs are held. Fundamentalists, to their credit, clung to the fundamentals like a pit bull on a t-bone. There was nothing attractive or sophisticated about it, but everyone knew you’d never tear the two apart. The evangelical, on the other hand, sought to find, at least culturally, a middle ground. Yes, we believe in the authority of the Bible, but we believe it for nice, professional, academic reasons. Indeed, all that we believe we believe for nice, professional, academic reasons. What separates evangelicals from fundamentalists is that we evangelicals don’t breathe fire, and we have fancy degrees hanging in our studies, instead of pictures of Billy Sunday. We evangelicals are they who cut this deal with the modernists, “We will call you brother, if you will call us scholar.”

     Please don’t misunderstand. The point isn’t that the right way to believe in the fundamentals is to be stupid. Instead, the point is that the right way to believe in the fundamentals is with a holy indifference to what others think about us. Anything less leads us right where we are. That is, any movement that begins with a fear of those we are seeking to win has already been won by those that are feared. We thought we were defending the fundamentals, but we were giving away the store. Like the Gwinnett county officials, our failure to demonstrate the courage of our convictions led to exactly what we didn’t want. Weakness disguised as compromise compromised our convictions, and exposed our weakness. Because we were too worldly to not care, we have become too worldly to matter.

     We still follow that same path today. For fear of offending the lost, we will not tell them they are lost. For fear of looking narrow and close-minded, we have made peace not just with the deadly secularism of modernism, but with the doubly deadly folly of postmodernism. There the culture itself reflects our uncertainty, refusing to make affirmations, just like us. In our pride we have embraced a humility that won’t stand for anything.

     Our Shepherd, however, calls us to a different path. He tells us that having those outside the faith revile us for our faith is something to be sought, not something to be avoided, that those who experience the disdain of the world for His name’s sake are blessed. The fundamentalists of the last century were laughed at and scorned. And for that they earned the praise of Jesus. May we find the courage not only to affirm the fundamentals, but may we be given a double portion of the spirit of the fundamentalists. They fought the good fight, while we collaborated. They kept the faith, while we merely kept our positions in our communities. May we learn to fear no man, and to fear God. For such is the beginning of wisdom.

Machen’s God-Centered Vision

By John Piper 3/1/2006

     J. Gresham Machen wielded his powers against modernism as an historian and as a student of the New Testament. He argued on historical grounds that from the beginning the church was a witnessing church (Acts 1:8) and a church devoted to the apostles’ teaching. In other words, her life was built on events without which there would be no Christianity. These events demanded faithful witnesses who tell the objective truth about the events, since they are essential. Moreover, the life of the church was built on the apostles’ teaching (Acts 2:42), the authoritative interpretation of the events. Thus Machen’s response to modernism stands: it is not a different kind of Christianity — it is not Christianity at all. The foundational truths have been surrendered; or worse, the concept of truth has been surrendered to pragmatism, so that even affirmations are denials, because they are affirmed as useful and not as true.

     The structure of the modernism of Machen’s day is not too different from the postmodernisms of our day. In some churches the triumph of modernism is complete. But it is still a menace at the door of all our churches and schools and agencies. One of our great protections will be the awareness of stories like Machen’s — the enemy he faced, the battle he fought, the weapons he used (and failed to use), the losses he sustained, the price he paid, and the triumphs he wrought. If we do not know history, we will be weak and poor in our efforts to be faithful in our day.

     Our hope for the church and for the spread of the true Gospel lies not ultimately in our strategies but in God. And there is every hope that He will triumph. But when we step back now and look at Machen’s life and work, what can we learn for our day?

     First, Machen’s life and thought issues a call for all of us to be honest, open, clear, straightforward, and guileless in our use of language. He challenges us, as does the apostle Paul (2 Cor. 2:17; 4:2; Eph. 4:25; 1 Thess. 2:3–4), to say what we mean and mean what we say, and to repudiate duplicity, trickery, sham, verbal manipulating, sidestepping, and evasion. Machen shows us that such dishonesty is not new and that it is destructive to the church and the cause of Christ.

     Next, Machen’s life teaches us the importance of founding and maintaining institutions in the preservation and spreading of the true Gospel. Visions of truth and worldviews like Machen’s are preserved not just in the minds of a few disciples but in charters and covenants and enclaves and books and journals and durable organizations and long-term official commitments. Yet sometimes in the name of preserving the truth, institutions often come to stand in the way of spreading the truth. Nevertheless, they are not necessarily bad and are probably a good tension with the more charismatic, spontaneous focus on individualism in ministry.

     Third, Machen’s interaction with modernism shows the value of a God-centered vision of all reality. A God-centered worldview gives balance and stability in dealing with error. It enables us to see how an error relates to the larger issues of life and thought. The sovereignty of God and His supremacy over all of life, causes one to see everything in relation to more things because they all relate to God, and God relates to all things.

     Fourth, Machen’s engagement in the debates of his day points us to the value and necessity of controversy, as well as the inevitability and pain of criticism, even from our brothers.

     His colleague, Charles Erdman, publicly accused Machen of “unkindness, suspicion, bitterness and intolerance” (see J. Gresham Machen: A Biographical Memoir). When he voted against a church resolution in favor of the national Prohibition and the 18th Amendment, he was criticized as a secret drunkard and promoter of vice. Since he was single, he was criticized as being naive and unaware of the responsibilities of the family.

     There is in all of us the desire to be liked by others. If it is strong enough, we may go to unwise lengths to avoid criticism. We may even think we can be kind enough to everyone so as to avoid criticism. This will not work, especially if we have any public role. It is true the Bible says we are to let our light shine that men might see our good deeds and give glory to God (Matt. 5:16). And it is true we are to silence the ignorance of foolish men by our good deeds (1 Peter 2:15). But there is also the truth that the world called the most loving master of the house Beelzebul (Matt. 10:25). You cannot be kind enough and merciful enough that no one will criticize you, and thus we must forsake all notions that a life devoted to compassion will be spared criticism.

     Thus Machen rose to meet the intellectual challenge of his day with his remarkable intellectual powers. He saw that an intellectual cultural atmosphere uncongenial to the categories of truth will make the spread of the Gospel all the harder. Maybe Machen put too much hope in the intellectual power of the church to transform the mindset of a nation and make evangelism easier. Yet in our even more anti-intellectual world of the twenty-first century we would do well to listen to Machen here rather than criticize him.

The Liberal Agenda

By R.C. Sproul 3/1/2006

     When any discussion develops concerning Christianity and liberalism, it is crucial that one gives a proper definition of liberalism. The term liberal can mean anything from being free in one’s thinking to being a proponent of the latest fad in the realm of theology or any other ideology. The term liberal shifts with the sands of time in as much as yesterday’s liberal may be considered today’s conservative without changing views.

     However, when we speak of liberalism in the field of theology, we are not thinking of a frame of mind or a philosophical bent but a distinct historical movement that captured the minds of many churchmen in the nineteenth century. Nineteenth-century liberalism followed closely on the heels of enlightenment thought and was married philosophically to many of the ideas that defined modernism. The root idea that defined liberalism was the influence of the philosophy of naturalism. Naturalism asserts that all reality can be explained in purely natural categories without any appeal to the supernatural. As a result, nineteenth-century liberalism saw a wholesale attack on all things supernatural contained within historic orthodox Christianity.

     The principal targets of nineteenth-century liberalism included the miracles attributed to Jesus in the New Testament (not to mention all of the miracles recorded in the Old Testament). Those events that are defined or described in Scripture as being miraculous, indeed, caused by the supernatural agency of God, were rejected as naïve, pre-scientific myths that found their way into the original documents of Scripture. The miraculous acts of Jesus were explained away. For example, the feeding of the five thousand was sometimes described as an act of fraud by which Jesus had hidden a cache of fish and loaves in a cave with a secret opening concealed by His long flowing robe. And like the magician who pulls sausages or scarves endlessly out of his sleeves, so Jesus, standing in front of the concealed entrance of the cave, was assisted in His magical work by the disciples, who, working as a bucket brigade, were feeding the fish and loaves through the secret entrance into Jesus’ cloak, out His sleeves, to the masses. Another tack taken by the liberals was to give a moral explanation to the miracles of Jesus. In the case of the feeding of the five thousand, what Jesus did was to persuade those who brought lunches with them to share their food with those who had brought none. This was an “ethical miracle,” by which Jesus promoted the ethic of sharing with one’s fellow human being.

     Next on the target list were the supernatural aspects of the life of Jesus. Of particular concern for nineteenth-century liberals was their assault against the virgin birth. Not only was the virgin birth rejected, but every supernatural aspect of Jesus’ life, including the transfiguration, His atonement as a transcendent supernatural event, His resurrection, His ascension, and His return at the end of the age. All of these things were cast aside as so many accretions of early church mythology. Obviously, since the Bible reports the person and work of Christ in supernatural terms involving angels, miracles, and the fulfillment of predictive prophecy, all of those aspects found in sacred Scripture were also rejected. The Bible was the favorite target of this assault, by which critical scholars rejected all predictive prophecy and anything that smacked of the supernatural, reducing the Bible to just another human book of the ancient world.

     This new wave of thinking swept through Europe, with its roots principally in Germany, and then it crossed the ocean to theological seminaries in the United States and produced a crisis within many churches. What does one do with billions of dollars worth of church property and the thousands of people who are ordained to be clergy who no longer believe the historic content of orthodox Christianity? Some took the position that the only honest response to this skepticism was to resign from the ministry and find employment in another line of work. However, the overwhelming majority of those who espoused this view decided simply to restructure the mission of the church. The mission of the church became no longer an enterprise of bringing personal redemption supernaturally between the soul and God; rather, it sought social redemption by alleviating, as far as possible, human suffering. This gave way to the birth of the so-called “social gospel,” which saw the good news found in the church’s mission to meet the humanitarian needs of society. The Gospel itself was given a new definition in terms of social action. Along with the denials of particular aspects of historic Christianity, a denial of the importance of Christian doctrine also came in its wake. Doctrine was something that was derived from the teaching of the Bible, and since the Bible was now suspect, there was no need for any significant maintenance of orthodox Christian doctrine.

     In every age, the church is threatened by heresy, and heresy is bound up in false doctrine. It is the desire of all heretics to minimize the importance of doctrine. When doctrine is minimized, heresy can exercise itself without restraint. In the twentieth century, the Swiss theologian, Emil Brunner, wrote his treatise on the person of Christ titled The Mediator. In that book, Brunner used one word to describe the essence of nineteenth-century liberalism: “unbelief.” He saw in liberalism not a simple change of nuance in the content of the Christian faith but a wholesale rejection of the very heart and soul of biblical Christianity. The twentieth century saw the continuation of the impact of liberalism, particularly in the mainline denominations in America, with the advent of so-called neo-liberalism following the radical criticism of men like Rudolf Bultmann and his successors.

     This liberal agenda has by no means disappeared from the life of the church. It has gained almost total control of the mainline denominations and has made its influence felt strongly within evangelical circles. Within evangelicalism itself, we have seen a serious erosion of biblical authority, a willingness to negotiate the biblical Gospel itself, and a widespread rejection of doctrine as being unimportant and in no way foundational to the Christian faith. Liberalism stands in every generation as a flat rejection of the faith. It must not be viewed as a simple subset or denominational impulse of Christianity; it must be seen for what it is — the antithesis of Christianity based on a complete rejection of the biblical Christ and His Gospel.

Robert Charles Sproul, 2/13/1939 – 12/14/2017 was an American theologian, author, and ordained pastor in the Presbyterian Church in America. Dr. R.C. Sproul was founder and chairman of Ligonier Ministries, an international Christian education and discipleship organization located near Orlando, Fla. He was also copastor of Saint Andrew’s Chapel in Sanford, Fla., chancellor of Reformation Bible College, and executive editor of Tabletalk magazine. Dr. Sproul has contributed dozens of articles to national evangelical publications, has spoken at conferences, churches, and schools around the world, and has written more than one hundred books. He also served as general editor of the Reformation Study Bible.

Confounding the Postmodern Mind

By Gene Edward Veith 3/1/2006

     Back in the last century, lots of churchmen were intimidated by modernism — with its triumphant science, dogmatic rationalism, and trust in progress. They figured that if Christianity is going to survive, it has to adapt to the times and to the new cultural climate. So modernist theologians jettisoned the supernatural claims of Christianity, from the miracles of Scripture to the resurrection of Christ.

     Such teachings, they assumed, were old, the products of a less-enlightened way of thinking, and were not credible to “modern man.” Thus, Christianity needed to be updated, recast so as to accord with modern science and progressive ideas. After this modernist makeover, Christianity looked pretty much like what non-believers believed in. Churches taught the same things the non-Christians taught. Since there was little difference between the church and the world, “modern man” — far from flocking to these newly relevant churches — decided, quite properly, that since these churches had nothing to offer other than what he already had, he might as well just sleep in on Sunday mornings.

     Those who opposed the modernist theologians were the “fundamentalists,” those Christians who defended the fundamentals of the faith. The modernists did manage to give the term “fundamentalist” a negative connotation. But in reality, the fundamentalists won. Supernatural Christianity did not die out, as the modernists assumed it would. Though the fundamentalists had their missteps and insecurities, they transmuted into “evangelicals” who have come to reign ascendant in American Christianity.

     Today, the very tenets of modernism that gave it vast authority, are now thoroughly critiqued and ridiculed. Science? A cultural construction that rapes the environment. Rationalism? An illusion, based on the assumption that there is only one truth. Objectivity? Impossible to achieve, since all meaning is slanted. Progress? A claim of cultural imperialism made impossible in light of our modern wars and systems of oppression.

     Postmodernists counter with the claim that truth is not a discovery, but a construction. Our thoughts are determined by our culture, and since there are many cultures — and even more individual constructions — there are many truths. To try to persuade anyone is to impose one’s own construction of reality on someone else, which no one has the right to do.

     Postmodernists also dislike “fundamentalism,” but not for the reasons modernists did. Postmodernists dislike fundamentalists not for believing in the supernatural, holding to irrational notions, believing in things they don’t understand, or living in the past. Postmodernists are against fundamentalism for “believing in only one truth.” Thus, postmodernists often accuse modernists of being “fundamentalists.”

     Here is the great irony: Many of today’s evangelical theologians, the heirs of the fundamentalists, are now embracing postmodernism. Why? Because they think this new ideology will free them from the challenge of modernism. Not realizing that particular war is over, many evangelical theologians are enlisting postmodernism as an ally. In doing so, of course, they also have to reject, though for a different reason, the fundamentals of orthodox Christianity.

     The desire for God to be “open,” the insistence that Scripture is indeterminate and open to infinite interpretation, the teaching that no one is damned, that there are multiple paths to God, that followers of other religions can be saved, are all manifestations of postmodernism in contemporary evangelical theology. So are evangelical feminism, calls to tone down biblical morality, “the emerging church,” and the notion that our positive thoughts can create a new reality.

     The most common assertion of postmodernist evangelicalism is that “postmodern persons [they can’t say ‘man’ anymore] are unable to accept ready-made religious doctrines.” The emphasis on believing objective Christian doctrines is too “modernist.” Rather, Christians are to be encouraged to cultivate their own subjective spirituality, based on their personal experiences of the “mysteries” of faith.

     In capitulating to postmodernism, these churchpeople are ending up in the same place as those who capitulated to modernism. They preach an eviscerated Christianity that is incapable of changing lives or saving the lost. Trying to be relevant, they make themselves irrelevant. Trying to get people to come to church, they only succeed in giving them reasons to stay at home.

     Believers in Christianity’s fundamentals can agree with the modernists that reason, science, and objectivity have their place. They can also agree with the postmodernists that reason has its limits, that human ideologies are tainted not so much with other political ideologies as with sin, that mysteries do abound.

     Christians dare not succumb to either rationalism or relativism; rather, because of our mind’s limits and our sins, we must be dependent on revelation. The Word of God breaks into our narrow, human minds with God’s judgment and His grace, confounding both the modernists and the postmodernists, as well as whatever will come next.

The Real Prayer of Jabez

By Steven Lawson 2/1/2006

     Riding a tidal wave of surging popularity, few Christian books have burst onto the publishing scene and been as widely received as The Prayer of Jabez: Breaking Through to the Blessed Life. In only its sixth year of circulation, this brief, ninety-three-page book has sold a staggering ten million copies, pushing its way to the top of the New York Times best-seller list. In its wake, a virtual Prayer of Jabez sub-culture has emerged, complete with journals, backpacks, jewelry, vanilla-scented candles, and myriads of assorted marketing paraphernalia. Unfortunately, many well-meaning evangelicals have been swept up in this trendy phenomenon.

     Prefacing this work, author Bruce Wilkinson writes, “I want to teach you how to pray a daring prayer that God always answers. It is brief — only one sentence with four parts…but I believe it contains the key to a life of extraordinary favor with God.… In fact, thousands of believers who are applying its truths are seeing miracles happen on a regular basis.” But is the prayer of Jabez really the single greatest key to a spiritual life that is pleasing to God? Is Wilkinson’s teaching true to the full counsel of God? Hardly.

     Those with doctrinal moorings and spiritual discernment know that this simplistic approach to the Christian life is an inadequate means by which to view God, true spirituality, and prayer. True, certain features of the book can be cited positively, such as its much-needed emphasis upon prayer. But The Prayer of Jabez, quite frankly, suffers from a deficient theology. The book is seriously plagued by the following things:

     First, an inadequate view of prayer, trivializing its truly profound nature; second, a misguided focus upon prosperity, overtly emphasizing miracles and financial blessings; third, a defective doctrine of providence that fails to see God sovereignly and actively involved in all of life. Polemics aside, however, it will do us well to revisit the prayer of Jabez — not the book, but the biblical text — and discover what this prayer actually teaches.

     Tucked away in a long genealogical record (1 Chron. 4), Jabez emerges from relative obscurity as one who “was more honorable than his brothers” (v. 9). A spiritually strong man, he was highly esteemed in his day, more virtuous and upstanding than others. His extraordinary piety is well documented in that a city was named after him, a place where “the families of scribes” gathered (1 Chron. 2:55). Moreover, his name, Jabez, means, “He will cause pain,” a perpetual reminder of the agony he caused during delivery. Yet, despite such a difficult entrance into this world, there was a divinely scripted plan for his life, sovereignly orchestrated for God’s glory and his good.

     With complete dependence upon God in prayer, Jabez “called upon…God (Elohim)” (1 Chron. 4:10a), the divine name meaning the Supreme One, Mighty Ruler, and Sovereign Lord (Gen. 1:1). By appealing to this name, he acknowledged that God providentially reigns over all the works of His hands (Ps. 103:19). Moreover, He is the God “of Israel,” closely related to His chosen ones (Amos 3:2). To Jabez, God is both infinite and intimate, both accessible and able to answer his prayers.

     In petitioning God, Jabez prayed, “Oh that you would bless me” (v. 10b). That is, he asked God to extend His undeserved favor toward him. Specifically, Jabez asked, “Enlarge my border” (v. 10c), thereby requesting that God would expand his territory by defeating his enemies, the Canaanites, expelling them from the adjacent territory. In the days of Moses and Joshua, God had promised that He would give the Promised Land to Israel. Accordingly, Jabez prayed for this increase in land.

     Is it right to ask God for material things? Of course it is. Jesus Himself taught His disciples to pray for their “daily bread” (Matt. 6:11; Luke 11:3). God desires us to petition Him for all good things needed to fulfill His will, even for physical provisions (James 4:2). But, ultimately, God is sovereign and will answer prayer as He wills, not as man wills. To be sure, the motive of every prayer must be for the glory of God, not the greed of man. As lowly servants before our exalted King, we should make certain that our prayers are always humble requests, never haughty demands.

     Furthermore, Jabez prayed “that your hand might be with me” (v. 10d), a petition that the invisible hand of Providence would empower him in this heroic endeavor. The truth is, God’s work must always be done in God’s power, or it will surely fail (Zech. 4:6). Moreover, Jabez requested “that you would keep me from harm so that it might not bring me pain” (v. 10e). In this, he asked for God’s supernatural protection to be upon him throughout this conflict. To be sure, all God’s servants are exposed to constant danger and desperately need divine protection from Satan’s relentless assaults.

     With unwavering faith, Jabez placed this entire matter in the hands of God — and there are no more reliable, or more capable, and no more powerful hands than those of our sovereign God. What was the result of such a humble prayer? Simply this, that God “granted what he asked” (v. 10f). Not because Jabez used the right formula in prayer. Nor because he somehow manipulated God. For God is not a genie to be conjured out of a bottle and used for one’s own personal ends. Rather, God sovereignly chose to be glorified through Jabez in answering his petition. The prayer of Jabez is not a mindless mantra that God always answers, chanted for self-advancement. Instead, it teaches us to seek God faithfully. When He alone is magnified, we will be truly blessed indeed.

Psalm 36

By Don Carson 4/25/2018

     Among the insights the Psalms convey, some of the most penetrating deal with the nature of wickedness and of wicked people. Rarely are these put into abstract categories. They are almost always functional and relational.

     What lies at the heart of the “sinfulness of the wicked”? “There is no fear of God before his eyes” (Ps. 36:1). This means something more than that the wicked person is foolishly unafraid of the punishment that God will finally mete out (though it does not mean less than that). It means that the wicked are so blind that they do not see the ultimate realities. They either do not see God at all, or, scarcely less horribly, they do not see God as he is.

     All appropriate behavior and outlook for human beings made in the image of God find their reference point and measure in God himself. The fear of the Lord is the beginning of both knowledge (Prov. 1:7) and wisdom (Prov. 9:10), for “knowledge of the Holy One is understanding” (Prov. 9:10). The converse is utter folly: “fools despise wisdom and discipline” (Prov. 1:7). Small wonder the psalmist insists that it is the fool who says, “There is no God” (Ps. 14:1). Scarcely less foolish is the conjuring up of domesticated gods we can manage, or of savage gods that are brutal and immoral, or of impersonal gods that depersonalize God’s image-bearers. When one is blind to the true God, including his glorious holiness that must rightly instill fear in image-bearers as rebellious as we, there is no stopping place in our descent into the abyss of folly.

     The blindness of the wicked extends to their assessment of themselves. “For in his own eyes he flatters himself too much to detect or hate his sin” (Ps. 36:2). If he could see well enough to detect his sin, to see it for what it is — rebellion against the living God — and hate it for its sheer vileness and utter arrogance before the majestic holiness of his Maker, inevitably he would also fear God. The twin blindnesses are one.

     This, of course, is why philosophical debates about the existence of God can never be resolved by reason alone. It is not that God is unreasonable, still less that he has left himself without witness. Rather, the tragedy and ignominy of human sin leave us, apart from God’s grace, horribly blind. Yet this blindness is culpable blindness: the wicked have no fear of God before their eyes. Paul understands the point so well that he makes this the culminating proof-text in his proof of human lostness (Rom. 3:18). Thank God for the next thirteen verses the apostle pens.

Don Carson is research professor of New Testament at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School in Deerfield, Illinois, and co-founder (with Tim Keller) of The Gospel Coalition. He has authored numerous books, and recently edited The Enduring Authority of the Christian Scriptures (Eerdmans, 2016).

Read The Psalms In "1" Year

Psalm 42

5 Why are you cast down, O my soul,
and why are you in turmoil within me?
Hope in God; for I shall again praise him,
my salvation 6 and my God.

My soul is cast down within me;
therefore I remember you
from the land of Jordan and of Hermon,
from Mount Mizar.
7 Deep calls to deep
at the roar of your waterfalls;
all your breakers and your waves
have gone over me.
8 By day the LORD commands his steadfast love,
and at night his song is with me,
a prayer to the God of my life.
9 I say to God, my rock:
“Why have you forgotten me?
Why do I go mourning
because of the oppression of the enemy?”
10 As with a deadly wound in my bones,
my adversaries taunt me,
while they say to me all the day long,
“Where is your God?”

By Gleason Archer Jr.

Hosea

     The name of this prophet,  Hôšēaʾ, means “salvation”, and is in reality identical with the name of the last king of the Northern Kingdom, Hoshea. For purposes of distinction, however, the English Bible always spells the name of the minor prophet as  Hosea (without the second h).

     The theme of this book is an earnest testimony against the Northern Kingdom because of its apostasy from the covenant and its widespread corruption in public and private morals. The purpose of the author is to convince his fellow countrymen that they need to repent and return in contrition to their patient and ever-loving God. Both threat and promise are presented from the standpoint of Yahweh’s love to Israel as His own dear children and as His covenant wife.

Outline of Hosea

I. Training of the prophet,  1:1–3:5

     A. His homelife symbolic of the nation’s punishment and restoration,  1:1–2:1
          1. The marriage with Gomer, a potential adulteress,  1:2
          2. The children: Jezreel, Lo-Ruhamah, Lo-Ammi,  1:3–9
          3. The final triumph of grace,  1:10–2:1
     B. His domestic tragedy, a revelation of God’s redeeming love,  2:2–23
     C. His dealing with Gomer, a command and a revelation,  3:1–5

II. Teaching of the prophet,  4:1–14:9

     A. National pollution and its cause,  4:1–6:3
          1. The findings of the Judge and the pronouncement of sentence,  4:1–19
          2. Warning to priest, people, and king: the snare of the idolatrous shrines,  5:1–15
          3. Exhortation to repent,  6:1–3
     B. National pollution and its punishment,  6:4–10:15
     1. Statement of God’s case against Israel,  6:4–7:16
               a) Fickleness, bloodguiltiness: the bloody harvest,  6:4–11
               b) Mercy prevented by persistent rebellion, adultery, winebibbing,  7:1–16
          2. Judgment pronounced,  8:1–9:17
               a) Reaping the whirlwind, devoured by the world they doted on,  8:1–14
               b) Bondage in exile, the withering away of Israel,  9:1–17
          3. Recapitulation and appeal: the empty vine,  10:1–15
     C. The love of Jehovah,  11:1–14:9
          1. His inalienable love in dealing with wayward Israel,  11:1–11
          2. Exile: God’s only alternative because of stubborn rebelliousness,  11:12–12:14
          3. Guiding principles and eventual outcome of exile,  13:1–16
          4. Final appeal to repent; promise of ultimate blessing,  14:1–9

Hosea: Authorship and Integrity of the Text

     The prophet Hosea was apparently a citizen of the Northern Kingdom of Israel, for he refers to the ruler in Samaria as “our king” ( 7:5 ). Judah is mentioned only incidentally, whereas the interest is centered on the ten tribes. The author’s diction betrays traces of dialect not found in Judah but suggestive of North Israel near the Aramaic - speaking territory of Syria. Hosea’s family was of sufficient social standing for his father’s name (Beeri) to be mentioned. We have no other biographical details apart from those which he supplies in his own prophecies.

     The Liberal critics attribute substantially all this prophecy to the historic  Hosea. The only passages that have been challenged as later insertions are those which refer to Judah (so Marti and Nowack); or those sections, like  11:8–11 and  14:2–9 (so Volz and Marti), which predict future blessing or national deliverance. Eissfeldt and Bentzen, however, do not feel disposed to rule out categorically every mention of salvation after punishment, nor even every mention of Judah. Since even in the undoubtedly genuine portions of the book, such as chapters  1–3, the possibility is held out of future deliverance of the nation, those few verses which they label as glosses are denied to  Hosea on other grounds. As for the mention of Judah, Young rightly points out (IOT, p. 244) that the prophet regards the government of the Northern Kingdom as a usurpation, implying that only the Davidic dynasty is legitimate.

Amos: Time of Composition

     Not all the prophecies in this book seem to have been delivered at the same period in the prophet’s career. A portion of these must have been given before the death of Jeroboam II (753 B.C.), since chapter  1 interprets the symbolic meaning of Jezreel to signify that the dynasty of Jehu is to be violently ended. This was fulfilled in 752 when Shallum assassinated Zachariah, the son of Jeroboam. On the other hand, chapter  5 seems to have been directed against King Menahem (752–742). Chapter  7 must be dated a decade or two later; it denounces the government’s policy of double - dealing whereby Egypt is pitted against Assyria, and this policy is not known to have been followed by Israel prior to the reign of Hoshea (732–723 B.C.). Therefore we are justified in regarding the book as combining excerpts from sermons delivered over a period of at least twenty-five years. Possibly the final compilation was published in 725 B.C., perhaps thirty years after Hosea’s preaching ministry had begun.

Problem of Gomer

     Much discussion has been devoted to the difficulty created by God’s command to marry an adulterous woman. Would Jehovah have commanded a holy man to do that which was expressly forbidden to the priests and frowned upon for Israel as a whole? In an effort to relieve the moral problem, some conservatives, such as E. J. Young, have suggested that this experience was not real, but only a sort of extended parable. In the interests of this theory, some scholars have even suggested that the name Gomer means “completion,” that is, completion of sin; the name of her mother, Diblaim, would then mean “raisin cakes,” an idolatrous type of sacrificial offering (cf.  3:1 ).

     The identification of Gomer has been a debated point from the earliest times. Even the ancient commentators in the early Christian period differed as to whether Gomer was really a woman whom Hosea married, or whether she was simply a parable to illustrate the alienation between disobedient Israel and her faithful God. It was argued that this could hardly have been a factual account, since it would be a disgrace for a man of Hosea’s priestly and prophetic stature to marry a woman who was of ill repute. For that reason, Jerome and Calvin, from the time of the Reformation, felt that this narrative was to be understood allegorically. Even Hengstenberg, Havernick, Keil, Eichhorn, Rosenmuller and Hitzig favored a parabolic interpretation.

     On the other hand, Theodore of Mopsuestia in the older period adhered to the literal interpretation that she was a woman whom Hosea actually married (whether she was immoral previous to the marriage or became so afterward). This is also the view of Franz Delitzsch, Kurtz, Hoffman, Wellhausen, Cheyne, Robertson Smith and George Adams Smith.

     In our own century we still have the conflicting interpretations. E. J. Young of Westminster Seminary tended to adhere to the same allegorical view as Calvin rather than an actual biographical episode. Leon Wood felt that it would be doing violence to the credibility of Scripture elsewhere to render it parabolic, in light of the explicit statement in the first chapter of  Hosea, which contains the explicit order or encouragement by God to marry this woman. Clearly God’s purpose was to teach Hosea what it meant to have an unfaithful wife, even as Yahweh himself had to deal with an unfaithful nation in the case of Israel. Leon Wood in EBC, vol. 7, p. 164, stated, “ ‘A woman of adulterous character’ is really what is implied by the Hebrew phrase ‘a wife of harlotry.’ ” He did not call Gomer an actual zōnâ (which would indicate an already practising prostitute; but rather the “wife of harlotry” is to be understood as proleptic (p. 166). Wood disagreed with Keil in regard to Gomer’s status at the time of marriage to Hosea. He rightly points out that this would hardly conform to the analogy of Israel because back in the time of Moses and Joshua the Hebrew race stood in a meaningful covenant relationship with God. Yet it should be recognized that  Ex. 32 and  Num. 14 show a strong trend towards spiritual infidelity.

     William Rainey Harper pointed out that Gomer’s first child, Jezreel, was clearly said to have been fathered by Hosea himself, whereas the birth notices for Lo-Ruhamah and Lo-Ammi have no such affirmation, and therfore may have been fathered adulterously. Even Otto Eissfeldt expressed the view that the marriage was literally carried out to serve as an experience through which Hosea went in order to understand more fully what God’s pain was like in regard to the apostasy of the Northern Kingdom (cf. Pfeiffer’s The Old Testament, an Introduction [New York: Harper, 1965], p. 390). This agrees with the traditional literalistic view. Interestingly enough, Robert Pfeiffer himself did not feel that the woman in chapter  3 was the same woman as Gomer in Chapter  1, affirming that chapter  3 had nothing to do with Hosea’s personal life, but was a mere symbolic analogy that never actually took place (Introduction to the Old Testament [New York: Harper, 1941], p. 569). Wellhausen felt that Hosea became aware of Gomer’s unfaithfulness only after the birth of their first child, who was legitimate. Gomer may have been drawn towards an adulterous relationship with some other lover and later went astray after the birth of Jezreel.

     LaSor, Hubbard, and Bush in Old Testament Survey do not suggest that the marriage of Hosea and Gomer was anything other than an actual occurrence. They espouse the view that Gomer was overtly wicked when she married Hosea (p. 336). There is no real evidence that Hosea (or the Israelites in general) countenanced sexual experience with a stranger prior to marriage. We may conclude therefore that Gomer was not already a prostitute or an adulteress when Hosea married her, because Jezreel was clearly begotten by Hosea ( 1:3 ). But, the second and the third children seem to have been fathered out of wedlock.

     One very strong objection to a mere figurative type of interpretation is found in the fact that the story of Hosea’s marriage is given as a straightforward narrative. There is no evidence in the text itself that it was to be understood as a parable or a purely fictional experience described in order to illustrate a theological teaching. If the transaction did not really take place, even though it is set forth in such a factual manner, then the possibility opens up of questioning the historicity of any number of other episodes which are narrated in Scripture as if they were sober history.  A basic hermeneutical principle involved here is that the statements of Scripture are to be interpreted in their plain and obvious sense, unless other Scripture bearing upon the same subject shows that these statements are to be interpreted in some other fashion. 

     The better solution to this problem is to be found in the supposition that at the time Hosea married Gomer, she was not a woman of overtly loose morals. If Hosea delivered his message in later years, he may well have looked back upon his own domestic tragedy and seen in it the guiding hand of God. Hence the Lord’s encouragement to him to marry her in the first place, though her future infidelity was foreknown to God, would have been tantamount to a command: “Go, marry an adulterous woman,” even if the command did not come to the prophet in precisely these words.

A Survey of Old Testament Introduction

The Continual Burnt Offering

By H.A. Ironside - 1941

April 25

Jeremiah 5:30  An appalling and horrible thing
has happened in the land:
31  the prophets prophesy falsely,
and the priests rule at their direction;
my people love to have it so,
but what will you do when the end comes?   ESV

Jeremiah 6:14  They have healed the wound of my people lightly,
saying, ‘Peace, peace,’
when there is no peace.


Jeremiah 8:11  They have healed the wound of my people lightly,
saying, ‘Peace, peace,’
when there is no peace.

Isaiah 30:10  who say to the seers, “Do not see,”
and to the prophets, “Do not prophesy to us what is right;
speak to us smooth things,
prophesy illusions,   ESV

Servant of Christ, stand fast amid the scorn
Of men who little know or love thy Lord;
Turn not aside from toil; cease not to warn,
Comfort and teach. Trust Him for thy reward:
A few more moments’ suffering, and then
Cometh sweet rest from all thy heart’s deep pain.

For grace pray much, for much thou needest grace;
If men thy work deride,—what can they more?
Christ’s weary foot thy path on earth doth trace;
If thorns wound thee, they pierced Him before:
Press on, look up, though clouds may gather round;
Thy place of service He makes hallowed ground.
--- J. J. P.

The Institutes of the Christian Religion

Translated by Henry Beveridge

     27. On the whole, since Scripture places the principal part of worship in the invocation of God (this being the office of piety which he requires of us in preference to all sacrifices), it is manifest sacrilege to offer prayer to others. Hence it is said in the psalm: "If we have forgotten the name of our God, or stretched out our hands to a strange god, shall not God search this out?" (Ps. 44:20, 21). Again, since it is only in faith that God desires to be invoked, and he distinctly enjoins us to frame our prayers according to the rule of his word: in fine, since faith is founded on the word, and is the parent of right prayer, the moment we decline from the word, our prayers are impure. But we have already shown, that if we consult the whole volume of Scripture, we shall find that God claims this honour to himself alone. In regard to the office of intercession, we have also seen that it is peculiar to Christ, and that no prayer is agreeable to God which he as Mediator does not sanctify. And though believers mutually offer up prayers to God in behalf of their brethren, we have shown that this derogates in no respect from the sole intercession of Christ, because all trust to that intercession in commending themselves as well as others to God. Moreover, we have shown that this is ignorantly transferred to the dead, of whom we nowhere read that they were commanded to pray for us. The Scripture often exhorts us to offer up mutual prayers; but says not one syllable concerning the dead; nay, James tacitly excludes the dead when he combines the two things, to "confess our sins one to another, and to pray one for another," (James 5:16). Hence it is sufficient to condemn this error, that the beginning of right prayer springs from faith, and that faith comes by the hearing of the word of God, in which there is no mention of fictitious intercession, superstition having rashly adopted intercessors who have not been divinely appointed. While the Scripture abounds in various forms of prayer, we find no example of this intercession, without which Papists think there is no prayer. Moreover, it is evident that this superstition is the result of distrust, because they are either not contented with Christ as an intercessor, or have altogether robbed him of this honour. This last is easily proved by their effrontery in maintaining, as the strongest of all their arguments for the intercession of the saints, that we are unworthy of familiar access to God. This, indeed, we acknowledge to be most true, but we thence infer that they leave nothing to Christ, because they consider his intercession as nothing, unless it is supplemented by that of George and Hypolyte, and similar phantoms.

28. But though prayer is properly confined to vows and supplications, yet so strong is the affinity between petition and thanksgiving, that both may be conveniently comprehended under one name. For the forms which Paul enumerates (1 Tim. 2:1) fall under the first member of this division. By prayer and supplication we pour out our desires before God, asking as well those things which tend to promote his glory and display his name, as the benefits which contribute to our advantage. By thanksgiving we duly celebrate his kindnesses toward us, ascribing to his liberality every blessing which enters into our lot. David accordingly includes both in one sentence, "Call upon me in the day of trouble: I will deliver thee, and thou shalt glorify me," (Ps. 50:15). Scripture, not without reason, commands us to use both continually. We have already described the greatness of our want, while experience itself proclaims the straits which press us on every side to be so numerous and so great, that all have sufficient ground to send forth sighs and groans to God without intermission, and suppliantly implore him. For even should they be exempt from adversity, still the holiest ought to be stimulated first by their sins, and, secondly, by the innumerable assaults of temptation, to long for a remedy. The sacrifice of praise and thanksgiving can never be interrupted without guilt, since God never ceases to load us with favour upon favour, so as to force us to gratitude, however slow and sluggish we may be. In short, so great and widely diffused are the riches of his liberality towards us, so marvellous and wondrous the miracles which we behold on every side, that we never can want a subject and materials for praise and thanksgiving. To make this somewhat clearer: since all our hopes and resources are placed in God (this has already been fully proved), so that neither our persons nor our interests can prosper without his blessing, we must constantly submit ourselves and our all to him. Then whatever we deliberate, speak, or do, should be deliberated, spoken, and done under his hand and will; in fine, under the hope of his assistance. God has pronounced a curse upon all who, confiding in themselves or others, form plans and resolutions, who, without regarding his will, or invoking his aid, either plan or attempt to execute (James 4:14; Isaiah 30:1; 31:1). And since, as has already been observed, he receives the honour which is due when he is acknowledged to be the author of all good, it follows that, in deriving all good from his hand, we ought continually to express our thankfulness, and that we have no right to use the benefits which proceed from his liberality, if we do not assiduously proclaim his praise, and give him thanks, these being the ends for which they are given. When Paul declares that every creature of God "is sanctified by the word of God and prayers" (1 Tim. 4:5), he intimates that without the word and prayers none of them are holy and pure, word being used metonymically for faith. Hence David, on experiencing the loving-kindness of the Lord, elegantly declares, "He hath put a new song in my mouth," (Ps. 40:3); intimating, that our silence is malignant when we leave his blessings unpraised, seeing every blessing he bestows is a new ground of thanksgiving. Thus Isaiah, proclaiming the singular mercies of God, says, "Sing unto the Lord a new song (Is. 42:10)." In the same sense David says in another passage, "O Lord, open thou my lips; and my mouth shall show forth thy praise," (Ps. 51:15). In like manner, Hezekiah and Jonah declare that they will regard it as the end of their deliverance "to celebrate the goodness of God with songs in his temple," (Is. 38:20; Jonah 2:10). David lays down a general rule for all believers in these words, "What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits toward me? I will take the cup of salvation, and call upon the name of the Lord," (Ps. 116:12, 13). This rule the Church follows in another psalm, "Save us, O Lord our God, and gather us from among the heathen, to give thanks unto thy holy name, and to triumph in thy praise," (Ps. 106:47). Again, "He will regard the prayer of the destitute, and not despise their prayer. This shall be written for the generation to come: and the people which shall be created shall praise the Lord." "To declare the name of the Lord in Zion, and his praise in Jerusalem," (Ps. 102:18, 21). Nay, whenever believers beseech the Lord to do anything for his own name's sake, as they declare themselves unworthy of obtaining it in their own name, so they oblige themselves to give thanks, and promise to make the right use of his lovingkindness by being the heralds of it. Thus Hosea, speaking of the future redemption of the Church, says, "Take away all iniquity, and receive us graciously; so will we render the calves of our lips," (Hos. 14:2). Not only do our tongues proclaim the kindness of God, but they naturally inspire us with love to him. "I love the Lord, because he hath heard my voice and my supplications," (Ps. 116:1). In another passage, speaking of the help which he had experienced, he says, "I will love thee, O Lord, my strength," (Ps. 18:1). No praise will ever please God that does not flow from this feeling of love. Nay, we must attend to the declaration of Paul, that all wishes are vicious and perverse which are not accompanied with thanksgiving. His words are, "In everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God," (Phil. 4:6). Because many, under the influence of moroseness, weariness, impatience, bitter grief and fear, use murmuring in their prayers, he enjoins us so to regulate our feelings as cheerfully to bless God even before obtaining what we ask. But if this connection ought always to subsist in full vigor between things that are almost contrary, the more sacred is the tie which binds us to celebrate the praises of God whenever he grants our requests. And as we have already shown that our prayers, which otherwise would be polluted) are sanctified by the intercession of Christ, so the Apostle, by enjoining us "to offer the sacrifice of praise to God continually" by Christ (Heb. 13:15), reminds us, that without the intervention of his priesthood our lips are not pure enough to celebrate the name of God. Hence we infer that a monstrous delusion prevails among Papists, the great majority of whom wonder when Christ is called an intercessor. The reason why Paul enjoins, "Pray without ceasing; in every thing give thanks," (1 Thess. 5:17, 18), is, because he would have us with the utmost assiduity, at all times, in every place, in all things, and under all circumstances, direct our prayers to God, to expect all the things which we desire from him, and when obtained ascribe them to him; thus furnishing perpetual grounds for prayer and praise.

29. This assiduity in prayer, though it specially refers to the peculiar private prayers of individuals, extends also in some measure to the public prayers of the Church. These, it may be said, cannot be continual, and ought not to be made, except in the manner which, for the sake of order, has been established by public consent. This I admit, and hence certain hours are fixed beforehand, hours which, though indifferent in regard to God, are necessary for the use of man, that the general convenience may be consulted, and all things be done in the Church, as Paul enjoins, "decently and in order," (1 Cor. 14:40). But there is nothing in this to prevent each church from being now and then stirred up to a more frequent use of prayer and being more zealously affected under the impulse of some greater necessity. Of perseverance in prayer, which is much akin to assiduity, we shall speak towards the close of the chapter (sec. 51, 52). This assiduity, moreover, is very different from the battologi'an, vain speaking, which our Saviour has prohibited (Mt. 6:7). For he does not there forbid us to pray long or frequently, or with great fervor, but warns us against supposing that we can extort anything from God by importuning him with garrulous loquacity, as if he were to be persuaded after the manner of men. We know that hypocrites, because they consider not that they have to do with God, offer up their prayers as pompously as if it were part of a triumphal show. The Pharisee, who thanked God that he was not as other men, no doubt proclaimed his praises before men, as if he had wished to gain a reputation for sanctity by his prayers. Hence that vain speaking, which for a similar reason prevails so much in the Papacy in the present day, some vainly spinning out the time by a reiteration of the same frivolous prayers, and others employing a long series of verbiage for vulgar display. [479] This childish garrulity being a mockery of God, it is not strange that it is prohibited in the Church, in order that every feeling there expressed may be sincere, proceeding from the inmost heart. Akin to this abuse is another which our Saviour also condemns, namely, when hypocrites for the sake of ostentation court the presence of many witnesses, and would sooner pray in the market-place than pray without applause. The true object of prayer being, as we have already said (sec. 4, 5), to carry our thoughts directly to God, whether to celebrate his praise or implore his aid, we can easily see that its primary seat is in the mind and heart, or rather that prayer itself is properly an effusion and manifestation of internal feeling before Him who is the searcher of hearts. Hence (as has been said), when our divine Master was pleased to lay down the best rule for prayer, his injunction was, "Enter into thy closet, and when thou hast shut thy door, pray to thy Father which is in secret, and thy Father which seeth in secret shall reward thee openly," (Mt. 6:6). Dissuading us from the example of hypocrites, who sought the applause of men by an ambitious ostentation in prayer, he adds the better course--enter thy chamber, shut thy door, and there pray. By these words (as I understand them) he taught us to seek a place of retirement which might enable us to turn all our thoughts inwards and enter deeply into our hearts, promising that God would hold converse with the feelings of our mind, of which the body ought to be the temple. He meant not to deny that it may be expedient to pray in other places also, but he shows that prayer is somewhat of a secret nature, having its chief seat in the mind, and requiring a tranquillity far removed from the turmoil of ordinary cares. And hence it was not without cause that our Lord himself, when he would engage more earnestly in prayer, withdrew into a retired spot beyond the bustle of the world, thus reminding us by his example that we are not to neglect those helps which enable the mind, in itself too much disposed to wander, to become sincerely intent on prayer. Meanwhile, as he abstained not from prayer when the occasion required it, though he were in the midst of a crowd, so must we, whenever there is need, lift up "pure hands" (1 Tim. 2:8) at all places. And hence we must hold that he who declines to pray in the public meeting of the saints, knows not what it is to pray apart, in retirement, or at home. On the other hand, he who neglects to pray alone and in private, however sedulously he frequents public meetings, there gives his prayers to the wind, because he defers more to the opinion of man than to the secret judgment of God. Still, lest the public prayers of the Church should be held in contempt, the Lord anciently bestowed upon them the most honourable appellation, especially when he called the temple the "house of prayer," (Isa. 56:7). For by this expression he both showed that the duty of prayer is a principal part of his worship, and that to enable believers to engage in it with one consent his temple is set up before them as a kind of banner. A noble promise was also added, "Praise waiteth for thee, O God, in Sion: and unto thee shall the vow be performed," [480] (Ps. 65:1). By these words the Psalmist reminds us that the prayers of the Church are never in vain; because God always furnishes his people with materials for a song of joy. But although the shadows of the law have ceased, yet because God was pleased by this ordinance to foster the unity of the faith among us also, there can be no doubt that the same promise belongs to us--a promise which Christ sanctioned with his own lips, and which Paul declares to be perpetually in force.

30. As God in his word enjoins common prayer, so public temples are the places destined for the performance of them, and hence those who refuse to join with the people of God in this observance have no ground for the pretext, that they enter their chamber in order that they may obey the command of the Lord. For he who promises to grant whatsoever two or three assembled in his name shall ask (Mt. 18:20), declares, that he by no means despises the prayers which are publicly offered up, provided there be no ostentation, or catching at human applause, and provided there be a true and sincere affection in the secret recesses of the heart. [481] If this is the legitimate use of churches (and it certainly is), we must, on the other hand, beware of imitating the practice which commenced some centuries ago, of imagining that churches are the proper dwellings of God, where he is more ready to listen to us, or of attaching to them some kind of secret sanctity, which makes prayer there more holy. For seeing we are the true temples of God, we must pray in ourselves if we would invoke God in his holy temple. Let us leave such gross ideas to the Jews or the heathen, knowing that we have a command to pray without distinction of place, "in spirit and in truth," (John 4:23). It is true that by the order of God the temple was anciently dedicated for the offering of prayers and sacrifices, but this was at a time when the truth (which being now fully manifested, we are not permitted to confine to any material temple) lay hid under the figure of shadows. Even the temple was not represented to the Jews as confining the presence of God within its walls, but was meant to train them to contemplate the image of the true temple. Accordingly, a severe rebuke is administered both by Isaiah and Stephen, to those who thought that God could in any way dwell in temples made with hands (Isa. 66:2; Acts 7:48).

31. Hence it is perfectly clear that neither words nor singing (if used in prayer) are of the least consequence, or avail one iota with God, unless they proceed from deep feeling in the heart. Nay, rather they provoke his anger against us, if they come from the lips and throat only, since this is to abuse his sacred name, and hold his majesty in derision. This we infer from the words of Isaiah, which, though their meaning is of wider extent, go to rebuke this vice also: "Forasmuch as this people draw near me with their mouth, and with their lips do honour me, but have removed their heart far from me, and their fear toward me is taught by the precept of men: therefore, behold, I will proceed to do a marvellous work among this people, even a marvellous work and a wonder: for the wisdom of their wise men shall perish, and the understanding of their prudent men shall be hid," (Isa. 29:13). Still we do not condemn words or singing, but rather greatly commend them, provided the feeling of the mind goes along with them. For in this way the thought of God is kept alive on our minds, which, from their fickle and versatile nature, soon relax, and are distracted by various objects, unless various means are used to support them. Besides, since the glory of God ought in a manner to be displayed in each part of our body, the special service to which the tongue should be devoted is that of singing and speaking, inasmuch as it has been expressly created to declare and proclaim the praise of God. This employment of the tongue is chiefly in the public services which are performed in the meeting of the saints. In this way the God whom we serve in one spirit and one faith, we glorify together as it were with one voice and one mouth; and that openly, so that each may in turn receive the confession of his brother's faith, and be invited and incited to imitate it.

     Christian Classics Ethereal Library / Public Domain

     Institutes of the Christian Religion