The Wesleys had an enduring friendship and connection with George Whitefield (1714–1770), beginning with their Oxford Holy Club, followed by separate missionary journeys to America, and a call to open-air field preaching in England. During the earlier years of that association, the Wesleys published some of their most enduring poetry, especially in the first edition of Hymns and Sacred Poems (1739). In this collection, Charles Wesley had penned a Christmas hymn with a curious opening line:
Note: this post has been adapted with permission from A Workman Not Ashamed: Essays in Honor of Albert N. Martin.
There are some things we do in church that go completely unquestioned—until they are.
Some years ago, I took a Nazirite vow never to write on race in America. Yet, persuaded by the editorial team at First Things, I broke that vow. Now it is time to offer a brief reflection on some of the responses.
Three events this week have given me pause both for thought, nostalgia, and hope. The first was the arrival of an email on Thursday containing the memoir manuscript of a well-known Welsh Baptist pastor who served only one congregation in his ministry, and that for over fifty years. He asked me to read it with a view to offering a commendation, though he couched the request with comments about how busy I must be, and how many more important books I no doubt have to read. Read it with a view to commendation?
All across America, a myriad of pastors take the summer to plan out future sermon series. Preachers bring key questions to the planning task including: Old Testament or New Testament? Topical or Expositional? Character study or Contemporary Issue?
Pastors wrestle with seminal questions with no clear-cut answers: should I tackle the apostle Paul’s book of Ephesians or should I address woke ideology?
The church membership vows in my own denomination (the PCA) include this passage where we “promise to study [the] purity and peace” of the church. One of the premier ways we can do that as Christians is to reflect deeply and well upon the unity of the church, especially when it comes to what is meant to unite us.
Samuel Miller – Conscientious Pastor and Teacher
In 1813, Samuel Miller was offered a position as Professor of Ecclesiastical History and Church Government at the newly established Princeton Theological Seminary. At that time, the Seminary had only one teacher, who was also its founder and president: Archibald Alexander. Miller accepted the offer after much prayer and consideration.
One summer, a family man (and personal friend) traveled to Paris, where he spent a morning enjoying Luxembourg Gardens. In time, he noticed a group of mothers who, he realized, were so engrossed in their conversation that they tilted toward neglect of their children. He watched as one child wandered ever farther from her mother in the crowded park. Not yet two, she began to follow a family, apparently thinking its mother was her mother. When the group crossed a street and hurried onward, the child was finally quite alone.
In recent years, it seems increasingly rare to hear believers say, “I grew up in a happy home and we had everything we needed.” I almost never hear anyone say “I am making progress as a disciple,” although healthy believers should keep growing (below). The unfettered gratitude we hear in Psalm 16:6 has gone missing: “The lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; indeed I have a beautiful inheritance.” It has become difficult, even fraught, to say “My life is good,” in public at least.
Nothing tears at the inner fabric of our humanity more than ruptured relationships. Whether it be the heart of a family ripped apart through divorce, or rebellious children, a church fellowship shredded by conflict, or all the other levels and layers of human relationships that are the perpetual casualties of Adam’s fall. It is often only in the midst of division that we fondly wish for the sweet unity we once knew.
We may not always realise it, but the Bible has a theology of conflict. Indeed, when we stop and think about it, we are literally no further than 57 verses into Genesis before we find ourselves in the conflict zone that changed the course of history. And the conflict that emerges there in the opening section of Genesis 3, culminating in the fall, very quickly proves itself to be the fountainhead of every other form of conflict this world has ever witnessed.
Will your church be hosting a Reformation Sunday service in October? The Alliance would like to help promote your event to our members!
Visit ReformationSunday.org and sign-up to be a part of the Reformation Sunday promotion. Your service will be posted on the Reformation Sunday event listing and shared multiple times via email and social media. After signing up, be sure to download and use the free resources for you and your church.
When it comes to justification and sanctification, you cannot have one without the other. It is important to understand that justification and sanctification are distinct aspects of our salvation in Jesus Christ but justification and sanctification are also inseparable aspects of our salvation. The reason justification and sanctification are inseparable is because they are benefits of the saving work of Jesus Christ. If we possess Christ, then we will possess all the aspects of his benefits. When the Holy Spirit brings Christ to us, he does not bring him in parts but the whole.
One afternoon a group of bored boys decided to bother an old man working in his yard. After causing the man a little trouble they moved on. However, the town wherein they lived was a small one and so having recognized one of the boys the old man called on the father of that particular boy.
R.C. Sproul, A Life
The following interview is from Tabletalk Magazine and was published online at Ligonier.org. It is reproduced here with permission.
Tabletalk: How did God call you to become a seminary professor, and how does that calling serve the local church?