Today, in the tradition of my previous Arminocalvinist Spectrum, Evolution vs Creationism Spectrum and Spectrum of belief on hell and salvation  I present a “Charismatic-cessationist spectrum.”  For some more background on this issue, and a fairly typical charismatic perspective see my series of posts on the Gifts of the Holy Spirit.  As usual this may be a bit of a living document for a couple of days as I welcome suggestions for improvement from others.

Intriguingly this spectrum is much harder to label than the previous ones.  There are many differing views about the role of the Spirit in the Church today, but the key differences are really the answers to a series of questions that do not always go together.  Some have tried to delineate the positions something like the list I created below  (and I would be very glad of any further comments), but a number of the following labels are not entirely accurate in that people will “pick and mix” on this issue somewhat.  In fact (and I do try to reflect this in the spectrum below) there are two distinct areas which are often not answered consistently: I call these charismatic beliefs and charismatic experiences.  Before reading the rest of the article, why not scroll down to the bottom of this article and take the following questionnaire to calculate your own personal “charismatic quotient” an idea I have developed from John Piper. My survey deliberately distinguishes between belief and practice, and I would welcome feedback on its validity.  But first, here is my attempt at delineating a charismatic-cessationist spectrum:

1. Strong cessationist  Perhaps this is something of a caricature, but there are a number of Christians who would basically deny that a modern Christian can have any sort of relationship with God today except  exclusively though prayerfully reading the Bible.  God’s word to us today would be entirely  limited to reading the Scriptures, and some would not expect any kind of excitement or emotion about the Christian’s time of worship.  Many in groups below would accuse these people of having a relationship with a book rather than the living God, while they would presumably dismiss all reports of divine activity today as either lies or delusions.  It is debatable how many people would truly be in this group. It should be noted, however, that when Piper wrote about how he heard the voice of God, some did criticise him for sounding too charismatic, when in fact his experience of God speaking to him through the Bible would surely have been entirely consistent for anyone who was a moderate cessationist.

2. Historic cessationist  I have often argued that prior to the pentecostal and charismatic movements, the mainstream view seems to have been one which claimed that God was very much active today, and was aware of the potential for a living relationship with him.  In fact, there have been many documented descriptions of what a charismatic today would call a word of knowledge, or a healing, or a prophecy associated with previous heroes of the faith.  But many of them would have been theologically cessationist, in that they would not have described their experiences with the language of the gifts of the Holy Spirit.  There are many today who would also feel comfortable with descriptions of an experience of God, perhaps believing in a “call” to ministry, but who would not believe that gifts continue. In fact, it is very possible for someone in a group like this to have what some would term a stronger so-called “charismatic” experience than someone who would be theologically charismatic.  It is vital to remember that not only charismatics believe in the Holy Spirit, and some of the arguments are about terminology (see this article for example).  It is fair to say that most people who claim to be a cessationist have at least some sense of a personal relationship with God.

3. Aspirational charismatic  This is a term I have shamelessly stolen from Ed Stetzer who seams to have coined the phrase.  It seems to be something of a majority view among many reformed people today, especially younger ones who have read Grudem, and perhaps watched Piper or Driscoll sermons online. People in this group are theologically convinced that gifts of the Spirit are at least potentially available today. Many would not have seen any gifts in operation, or at least not in a safe, controlled environment.  At an emotional or experiential level, many might even have more distrust for the gifts in actual operation than some who call themselves a cessationist.

This is, in my view, despite its popularity, an inherently unstable position.  This is because it is a fact of human nature that our beliefs influence our behavior in every area. It would, for example, be odd indeed if someone claimed to be a baptist but did not practice adult baptism.  I suspect that many in this group of necessity will eventually either have to embrace a pursuit of the Spirit and his gifts more actively, or retreat into historic cessationism.

4. Third Wave charismatic  Popularised by the Vineyard and men like Sam Storms, this position would definitely be open to gifts, and will often have a significant experience of them. It rejects any notion of a “subsequent” Holy Spirit baptism, however.  (See Sam Storms detailed article.) It is perhaps an unfortunate term and I wish I could come up with a better one, but for the record, the term reflects the fact that this view was dominant among a historically distinct movement subsequent to both the charismatic movement of the 1960s and the pentecostal movement of the early 20th century. (see wikipedia on the three waves of the Spirit’s activity in the last century)  Some in this movement have adopted the term “continuationist” to distinguish themselves from other charismatics.

5. Strong charismatic This position advocates an eager pursuit of the Holy Spirit and all his gifts.  It would also advocate a distinct experience of the Spirit’s filling or Baptism with the Holy Spirit.  Prophecy, tongues, and other gifts would be common in these circles, but most charismatics would not insist on tongues as being the only or necessary evidence of the Spirit’s baptism.  Many point to Lloyd-Jones description of the “sealing” with the Spirit which gives assurance, and is associated with the love of God being poured out into our hearts as the root of the experience, with gifts being important but stemming from this anointing in which God visibly acknowledges our sonship. Advocates of this position would argue that receiving the Spirit is a conscious thing that may not happen at conversion. These would agree that every believer is regenerated by the Spirit and in-dwelt by him, but not every believer is conscious of a relationship with God through the Holy Spirit. Believers are urged to seek and “receive” the Holy Spirit as experienced in the book of Acts.

6. Apostolic  In addition to all the points in the “strongly charismatic” position, these people believe that Ephesians 4 ministries are all to be expected, recognized and released in the global Church today.  If this view is new to you, and you want to understand it further, I strongly recommend Terry Virgo’s book The Spirit Filled Church, followed by Dave Devenish’s Fathering Leaders, Motivating Mission, or why not just attend our next 300 leaders conference here in London?  In case you are a new reader, it is this group that I fall into, despite (just like Devenish and Virgo) being firmly in the reformed camp.

7. Traditional Pentecostal or “tongues as the initial evidence” Some traditional pentecostals would agree with the strong charismatic position, and in some cases the apostolic also.  In some cases they have emphasized tongues to such an extent that it becomes a necessary sign that God has granted the baptism of the Holy Spirit to someone.  This position is far from universal among pentecostals, as this interview I did with Jack Hayford makes clear, and sometimes can be misunderstood with to a closely related position that encourages people to expect and pray for tongues, but without making them an absolute requirement.  Again, I am struggling for a label here, so any suggestions very welcome!

8. Extreme charismatic This label is intended for a disparate group of people who emphasise an experience of gifts to such an extent that at least one doctrinal position held by other evangelicals is displaced. Most seriously, some would begin to de-emphasise the role of the Bible in testing gifts, and even in some cases allow a so-called “revelation” to trump the clear teaching of the Bible. Some have argued that since we have a “now” word we do not even need the Bible at all! Clearly this is the way a non-Christian cult can arrise, and it is striking how often “angels” have apparently appeared to people and taught things contrary to Scripture.

Less apparently extreme (and not always stemming from a denial of the Bible), but dangerous nonetheless we see a revaluation of “standard” doctrines among some in this group, perhaps because of a feeling of alienation from mainstream evangelicalism. So, for example, the doctrine of the Trinity can sometimes be denied (eg “oneness pentecostals“), or the notion of God blessing the believer is taken to an extreme where any sickness is a sign of unbelief, or speaking in tongues is seen as necessary for salvation.  Most charismatics and pentecostals would strongly repudiate all of these positions.

So, there are some of the labels, but how charismatic are YOU in your beliefs and practices? Please complete the survey below and let us know what you think of it! You are welcome to remain anonymous if you prefer!

This quote from Terry Virgo is just too good not to share.  Many people fail to appreciate the two very distinct yet crucial sources of comfort to the Christian.  They miss the power that is available to us. They miss the transformation God intends us to experience:

Unbelievers are under the impression that Christians are forced into morality, obey rules and go to church. If they really understood that we’d found the secret of being content they’d wonder where we got it. And they’d queue up outside our churches to find the secret for themselves. Paul’s great claim has been tested through the centuries, ‘I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.’

It’s about fellowship and communion with Christ. Now we must distinguish between these two different things: first ‘being united with him and declared righteous as a gift’ and second ‘enjoying communion with him’. In his book, ‘Communion with the Triune God’, John Owen speaks about union and communion with Jesus.

First, he says that we are united with Jesus and have received his righteousness for ever and that this is the basis of our relationship with him. Our relationship is never based on how much we’ve enjoyed his fellowship. Sadly, many believers think that if they have a season of remoteness from God, he’s unhappy with them and they end up in condemnation. Jesus is our righteousness for eternity. God poured out his wrath on his Son and we escape. We never move from our righteousness in Christ. Even if we don’t have an extended time of fellowship with him, we can still say, ‘Thank you, Lord. You’re the same yesterday, today and for ever, my righteousness.’ That’s union with Christ.

Second, Owen says that once we have union with Christ, we go on to have communion with him. We talk to him and listen to his voice. We hear him through the Scriptures and sing praises to him for the sheer joy of knowing that he’s our God. This is how we get strengthened with might in our inner being. We have fellowship with Jesus.

Day after day we experience fear, battle, hurts, sickness, wounds, unkindness and perplexity. We didn’t expect what’s happened to us. . How do we get through? ‘Well, pull yourself together!’ No! Our strength comes from Jesus. Isn’t he the Saviour? Doesn’t he save? Fellowship with him!

Salvation is a huge thing. Jesus saved me back in the ‘50s and has been saving me daily ever since. One day he’ll save us when he presents us to himself in glory. But while we’re on earth things will go wrong. And then we’ll need to draw close to Jesus to be daily, continually, repeatedly saved.

READ MORE at Terry Virgos Blog » Blog Archive » Strengthened in the Lord.

Spurgeon argued yesterday that often feelings come before faith, (having previously denied it!).  In today’s quote after carefully reminding us that not every conversion is a “typical” one he goes on to tell us how he feels the typical conversion occurs:

Some men have the light of God; but they cannot tell when the light first came to them. Let none of you imagine that you are not converted because you do not know the hour when it occurred; otherwise, you would be as foolish as I should be if I said to some old lady, “How old are you?” “Well, I am somewhere about eighty.” “But when was your birthday? Do you not remember your birthday?” “No, sir, I do not.” Suppose I were to tell her she was not alive because she did not know her birthday, I should be very foolish; and if you say to yourself, “Soul, you were never born again because you do not know when the event happened,” you will be very foolish, too. If you can say, “One thing I know, whereas I was blind, but now I see,” be satisfied and grateful, even though you cannot tell when the great miracle was wrought. Conversions, then, are not all alike.

Yet, as a usual rule, the work of grace begins in the heart with a time of gloom. Clouds gather; there is a general dampness round about; the soul seems saturated with doubt, fear, dread. There is something coming, but the soul knows not what; it feels that it is very sinful, and deserves whatever punishment God may send. Perhaps some of you are passing through that stage of experience just now. You get sadder and yet more sad every day; and yet you do not quite know why. You used to go to the theater, and you enjoyed it; but you went the other night, and it seemed very dreary to you, as indeed it is. You went off to some gay company, where you used to be very merry; but you seemed quite out of spirits, you could not join in their merriment, you were glad to get home. Something ails you; something ails you. Yes, the clouds are gathering over your head. That is how grace usually begins to work in the soul that God means to save and bless.

After the clouds, in the next place, the rain falls. The real work of the Spirit of God often follows upon an inward depression of spirit. Now you begin really to repent of sin; now are you sorry for the past; now you begin to sigh and cry for Christ. You wish you knew him; you wish you loved him. Tears begin to drop; or if they do not actually fall from your eyes, yet there are inward weepings, and your soul is getting moist now with deep contrition, hatred of sin, dread of God’s anger, the fear of the wrath to come, and a wish to lay hold on eternal life. Now the rains, the blessed rains, have come, and softened your heart. If we were to water all the fields in summer-time, when the sun is shining with a scorching heat, it would be of very little use indeed. An Irish friend of mine once said, that he had carefully noticed that it did not rain when the sun was shining; but that, whenever it rained, there were always some clouds to keep the sunshine off. There is a great truth in what my friend said. Rain becomes doubly precious to the earth when all the surroundings are suitable for its reception. All the atmosphere becomes damp; whereas, if rain could fall when all is dry and warm, mischief might come of it. Well, now, God’s Holy Spirit loves to come and work in man a congenial atmosphere, a holy tenderness, a devout heartbreaking; then with the clouds he brings a heavenly rain.

What comes after the rain? Then, the sun shines: “clear shining after rain.” I am describing the conversion of a man to God, not in a cast-iron style; for, as I have already told you, experiences differ. But, as a rule, after the softening, saturating influences of the Holy Spirit have come to the man, then the clouds go, the rain ceases, and there comes clear shining. The sun shines out. The man perceives that he is a sinner, but that Christ has come to save him. He sees his own blackness; but he believes that Christ can make him whiter than the snow. He mourns his own rebellions; but he rejoices that he is made a reconciled child, and admitted into the sacred family. Now look at him; his face is full of brightness; he looks as if he would like to dance, he feels so happy. His sins are washed away, he has believed in Jesus, he has rested in Christ’s finished work, and now he is as merry as the birds in May. His cheerful exclamation is, “I feel like singing all the time,” for he is enjoying the clear shining after the rain. I should like to encourage any here tonight who are going through the rain time. Believe me, it will not last for ever; you shall yet say, “Lo, the winter is past; the rain is over and gone; the flowers appear on the earth; the time of the singing of birds is come.” It will come all the sooner to you if you at once come to Christ. Look to him as lifted up on the cross for you; and you are now saved. God grant that you may do so at once!

Well, now, what happens after this? We have come as far as the clear shining after rain; what follows this? Why, then everything grows. The grass is sure to grow when we have mist and heat together; and when a soul, having felt its need of Christ, at last beholds the light of his countenance, then it begins to grow. I love to see young converts with all the freshness of their new-born faith; they have not borrowed their language from other people. I like to see them with their zeal; they are not quite so prudent as some of us older people are. You will find that they are doing this, and doing that, and doing the other good thing, and the prudent people tell them not to do too much. My dear young friend, do not listen to them! There is many an old saint who has been spokesman for the devil when he has tried to hold a young Christian back from doing more for Christ. I had a number of kind friends when I began laboring for the Lord, and especially when I began to preach; and these kind friends provided me with an unlimited quantity of blankets, and very wet blankets they were, too. They were afraid that I should get too hot in my Master’s service, so they were always ready with wet blankets to damp my ardor. I do think that, sometimes, when Satan wants to repress the zeal of young converts, he finds more efficient servants among good people than he does among bad ones. Brethren, let the young converts grow; they will not grow too fast. Let them serve God zealously; they will not do too much for him. Let them burn with vehement zeal; there are plenty in the world who will try to cool it down. God grant that our young friends may be able to resist that chilling influence, and still may be full of earnest might and spiritual strength in the service of their Savior!

That, then, is the usual method of the progress of a convert; clouds, rain, clear shining, and then growth. We pray that we may see this process perfected in very many.

Charles H. Spurgeon, vol. 38, Spurgeon’s Sermons: Volume 38, NO. 2284, electronic ed., Logos Library System; Spurgeon’s Sermons (Albany, OR: Ages Software, 1998).

Today’s quote from Spurgeon demonstrates that the man believed two points that many today would disagree with.  Firstly, he argues that intellectual assent to the gospel is insufficient for salvation, indeed that it may make you more worthy of damnation. Secondly, he seems to suggest that experience may well need to come first before faith. How many people do in fact say, “if I could just feel God, I would believe?” Finally he seems to believe that it is possible to have full assurance of faith without arrogance, to be soft-hearted and yet secure. Indeed, he is clear elsewhere in this sermon that the man without  tenderness of heart is not in his view saved.

Give me, then, a man of tender heart, who, at the same time, mixes full assurance with his tenderness. He is the man who will bring forth fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life.

Once again, our text suggests to us the blending of experience and knowledge. Read the Westminster Assembly’s Confession of Faith; by all manner of means get a clear view of the doctrines of grace, so that you can state them to others, and know why you hold them firmly yourself; but, remember, if you do not experience them in your own heart, if you do not know the power of them in your own life, you know nothing at all about them. Dry doctrine, without the damping of the Spirit of God, may only make fuel for your eternal destruction. When a man accommodates his religion up in the garret of his head, and never takes it down into the parlour of his heart, that man’s religion is vain. We must experience the power of the gospel in our own souls if it is to be of real service to us.

“True religion’s more than notion,
Something must be known and felt.”

It is very nice to talk about Christ; but do you trust him as your Savior? It may be very easy to speak about the new birth; but have you felt it? When you get these two things together, first the rain of gracious experience, and then the clear shining of intellectual knowledge of Scripture, then will you bring forth fruit unto God.

Charles H. Spurgeon, vol. 38, Spurgeon’s Sermons: Volume 38, NO. 2284, electronic ed., Logos Library System; Spurgeon’s Sermons (Albany, OR: Ages Software, 1998).

Jonathan Edward’s great work Religious Affections was introduced to us in yesterday’s quote.  In my mind there is probably no better book written to help us to grasp this vital subject (other than the Bible itself of course!)  We should by now be beginning to understand one of the most fascinating paradoxes, our feelings are meant to be a massive part of our Christian experience, and yet they are not always to be relied upon. This quote is vintage Edwards:

Some are ready to condemn all high affections: if persons appear to have their religious affections raised to an extraordinary pitch, they are prejudiced against them, and determine that they are delusions, without further inquiry. But if it be, as has been proved, that true religion lies very much in religious affections, then it follows, that if there be a great deal of true religion, there will be great religious affections; if true religion in the hearts of men be raised to a great height, divine and holy affections will be raised to a great height.

Love is an affection, but will any Christian say, men ought not to love God and Jesus Christ in a high degree? And will any say, we ought not to have a very great hatred of sin, and a very deep sorrow for it? Or that we ought not to exercise a high degree of gratitude to God for the mercies we receive of him, and the great things he has done for the salvation of fallen men? Or that we should not have very great and strong desires after God and holiness? Is there any who will profess, that his affections in religion are great enough; and will say, “I have no cause to be humbled, that I am no more affected with the things of religion than I am; I have no reason to be ashamed, that I have no greater exercises of love to God and sorrow for sin, and gratitude for the mercies which I have received?” Who is there that will bless God that he is affected enough with what he has read and heard of the wonderful love of God to worms and rebels, in giving his only begotten Son to die for them, and of the dying love of Christ; and will pray that he may not be affected with them in any higher degree, because high affections are improper and very unlovely in Christians, being enthusiastical, and ruinous to true religion?

Our text plainly speaks of great and high affections when it speaks of “repining with joy unspeakable, and full of glory:” here the most superlative expressions are used, which language will afford. And the Scriptures often require us to exercise very high affections: thus in the first and great commandment of the law, there is an accumulation of expressions, as though words were wanting to express the degree in which we ought to love God: “Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, with all thy soul, with all thy mind, and with all thy strength.” So the saints are called upon to exercise high degrees of joy: “Rejoice,” says Christ to his disciples, “and be exceeding glad,” Matt. 5:12. So it is said, Psalm 68:3, “Let the righteous be glad: let them rejoice before God: yea, let them exceedingly rejoice.” So in the book of Psalms, the saints are often called upon to shout for joy; and in Luke 6:23, to leap for joy. So they are abundantly called upon to exercise high degrees of gratitude for mercies, to “praise God with all their hearts, with hearts lifted up in the ways of the Lord, and their souls magnifying the Lord, singing his praises, talking of his wondrous works, declaring his doings, &c.”

And we find the most eminent saints in Scripture often professing high affections. Thus the Psalmist speaks of his love, as if it were unspeakable; Psal. 119:97, “O how love I thy law!” So he expresses a great degree of hatred of sin, Psal. 139:21, 22: “Do not I hate them, O Lord, that hate thee? And am not I grieved with them that rise up against thee? I hate them with perfect hatred.” He also expresses a high degree of sorrow for sin: he speaks of his sins “going over his head as a heavy burden that was too heavy for him: and of his roaring all the day, and his moisture being turned into the drought of summer,” and his bones being as it were broken with sorrow. So he often expresses great degrees of spiritual desires, in a multitude of the strongest expressions which can be conceived of; such as “his longing, his soul’s thirsting as a dry and thirsty land, where no water is, his panting, his flesh and heart crying out, his soul’s breaking for the longing it hath,”

Jonathan Edwards, A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections : In Three Parts … (Oak Harbor, WA: Logos Research Systems, Inc., 1996).

Longtime readers of my blog may remember the days before I banned comments. If you do, you will remember that I gathered a group of people who seemed to disagree with almost everything I said. I stopped comments because I didn’t have time to deal with everything they were saying, and because I found moderating very difficult. These days, that group largely finds expression through a blog written by someone who shares my surname, but despite rumors to the contrary is not related to me! If you are interested in reading that blog you can find it easily enough, though I suspect many of you have other things to do with your time. From time to time, however, a surprising agreement suddenly arrises. This happened this week with regard to my series on feelings and faith So, it may surprise both my critics and my friends, that I found a link shared on that site to something called “Ignatian Spirituality” fascinating. It reminded me that the mystics and monastics probably do have more to teach us than most of us in the reformed movement give credit. Of course we must use discernment and wisdom, and there are many pitfalls, but our fear of the unknown should not stop us giving thought to how we can pursue God. I remember for example as a young man reading Brother Laurence and finding him very helpful. Our danger in reformed circles is to dismiss everyone who disagrees with even a narrow point of doctrine as someone we can never learn from. I am more and more convinced as I get older that God calls us to learn from wherever we can, even although it is very necessary at times to expel the bathwater, we must not throw out the baby!

This series is far from over, but I am going to be taking a break from it for a few days.

If you are interested in a little trip outside your comfort zone, here is a method of prayer from the site:

1.. Pray for light.

2. Review the day in thanksgiving.

3. Review the feelings that surface in the replay of the day.

4. Choose one of those feelings (positive or negative) and pray from it.

5. Look toward tomorrow.

Read more

In today’s quote Spurgeon introduces the vital concept of “sealing” or assurance of our faith and relates it ultimately to the line from our hymn:

Note also that this sealing does not necessarily come at once with faith. It grows out of faith, and comes “after that ye believed.” We are not in every case sealed at the moment when we first trust in Jesus. I am persuaded that many who believe in Jesus enter into peace directly, and perceive at once the blessed assurance which is involved in their possessing the Holy Spirit; but with many others it is not so.

I have frequently been asked this question, “What is a person to do who does believe in Jesus, but yet is not conscious of peace and joy, but is filled with such a conflict within that the utmost he can do is to cling to Jesus with trembling hope?” I have replied, “If you believe in Jesus Christ you are saved; the best evidence that you are saved lies in the assurance of the word of God that every believer has eternal hope.” Whether you feel that you are justified or not is not the point, you are to accept. God’s word, which assures you that every one that believeth is justified: you are bound to believe the testimony of God apart from the supporting evidence of inward experience, and if it were possible for you to be a believer by the year together, and yet to find no peace, still you would have no right to doubt what God says because you do not feel peace, but you are bound to hold on to God’s promise whether you enjoy peace or not.

My firm belief is that where there is a real faith in the promise of God, peace and the other fruits of the Spirit come as a necessary ultimate consequence, but even then they are not grounds of faith: the word of the Lord is the sole foundation upon which faith builds. Some people have a sort of confidence in God, but they are also looking out for confirming signs, and they spoil the simplicity of their faith by having one eye on Christ and another eye on their peace of mind. Now, my friend, this will never do. You are bound to believe in God as he is revealed in Christ Jesus unto salvation, altogether apart from peace, joy, or anything else. The witness of the Spirit within is not the ground nor the cause of our faith: faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the word of God.

I, being a sinner, believe that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, and I rest my soul upon him, believing that he will save me; this is to be my standing, seal or no seal, token or no token. My dependence is not to be upon the seal of the Spirit, but upon the blood of the Son. The Spirit of God never takes the place of the Redeemer, he exercises his own peculiar office, which is to take of the things of Christ and show them unto us, and not to put his own things in the place of Jesus. The foundation of our hope is laid in Christ from first to last, and if we rest there we are saved. The seal does not always come with faith, but it follows after. I have said this because I am afraid lest in any way whatever you should leave the simple, plain, and solid ground of confidence in the finished work of Jesus Christ, and in that only. Recollect that a man who believes in Jesus Christ is as truly saved when he does not know it as he is when he does know it; he is as truly the Lord’s when he mourns in the valley of humiliation as when he sings on the mountain top of joy and fellowship. Our ground of trust is not to be found in our experience, but in the person and work of our Lord Jesus.
“I dare not trust the sweetest frame;
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name:
On Christ the solid rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand.”

Charles H. Spurgeon, vol. 22, Spurgeon’s Sermons: Volume 22, Sermon 1284 “The Sealing of the Spirit” electronic ed., Logos Library System; Spurgeon’s Sermons (Albany, OR: Ages Software, 1998).

Our third quote in this little series, makes the very important point that however precious our experiences of God might be, a warm glowing feeling inside us never actually produces faith.  Some of my readers might be surprised to know that I wholeheartedly agree. Faith on the other hand, DOES produce feelings, as in the other two quotes, Spurgeon quotes our hymn:

There are some who fancy that faith cometh by feeling. If they could feel emotions either of horror or of exquisite delight, they would then, they think, be the possessors of faith; but till they have felt what they have heard described in certain biographies of undoubtedly good men, they cannot believe, or even if they have a measure of faith, they cannot hope that it is true faith. Faith doth not come by feeling, but through faith arises much of holy feeling, and the more a man lives in the walk of faith, as a rule, the more will he feel and enjoy the light of God’s countenance. Faith hath something firmer to stand upon than those ever-changing frames and feelings which, like the weather of our own sunless land, is fickle and frail, and changeth speedily from brightness into gloom. You may get feeling from faith, and the best of it, but you will be long before you will find any faith that is worth the having, if you try to evoke it from frames and feelings.
“My hope is built on nothing less
Than Jesus’ blood and righteousness;
I dare not trust the sweetest frame;
But wholly lean on Jesus’ name;
On Christ the solid rock I stand,
All other ground is sinking sand.”
Charles H. Spurgeon, vol. 18, Spurgeon’s Sermons: Volume 18, Sermon No. 1031, “How can I obtain Faith?” electronic ed., Logos Library System; Spurgeon’s Sermons (Albany, OR: Ages Software, 1998).

Regular readers of this blog will know that I sit firmly in the tradition of Piper, Lloyd-Jones, Spurgeon, Edwards, and dare I say it Paul (!), who stresses the vital nature of the experiential side of Christianity. Now, as we begun yesterday, we are looking at the relationship between feelings and faith, initially by sharing some quotes from the very advocates of a pursuit of a real intimate relationship with God. Today Lloyd-Jones explains why we can’t trust the sweetest frame that God may grant us:

But feelings cannot be our ultimate authority because, as we all know, they are so changeable, and unreliable. They come and they go, and you never know what they may be. ‘I dare not trust the sweetest frame’, says a hymn-writer, because it may have gone by tomorrow. If I am to be governed by my feelings I shall find myself constantly changing—sometimes happy, sometimes miserable, sometimes feeling that all is well, sometimes that everything is going wrong, sometimes thrilled by reading the Bible, at other times having to force myself to get something out of it, feeling dry, arid, dull, stupid! Is not that your experience? If so, how can you rely on feelings as your authority?

Then remember, too, that feelings can be so easily counterfeited. If what is nice is of necessity good, if what gives me a pleasant, comfortable feeling must be right, then I have no answer whatsoever to the cults. I would just have to say: ‘Well, go to them. Anything that makes you feel better, anything that gives you a kind of release and relief is good; follow it. Anything that makes you a better man must be right, go after it.’ If we rely merely upon the pragmatic test of what makes me feel better we have no standard at all. I cannot criticize any teaching. It is so entirely subjective that I have no standard whatsoever.

David Martyn Lloyd-Jones, The Christian Soldier : An Exposition of Ephesians 6:10 to 20 (Edinburgh; Carlisle, Pa.: Banner of Truth Trust, 1977), 202-03.

As promised yesterday, we today begin a series exploring the implications of one line from an old hymn “I dare not trust the sweetest frame, but wholy lean on Jesus name.” It is my assertion that the writer of the hymn must have known something of the sweet “frames of mind” that Jesus gives us. He would not have written as he did if he did not.

These sweet experiences of God are to be sought, and according to the following quote from the good Doctor, they are actually essential. Yet the paradox is that feelings are both fleeting and unreliable. This is the conundrum which we face. There are two solutions to it, that right at the outset I serve notice that I reject. The first is to ignore feelings altogether and turn our faith into a matter of intellectual assent and a cold, sterile academic pursuit. The second is to pursue the latest and best experience, and get on the charismatic treadmill of running after the most exciting, most dramatic outpourings we can possibly find. Both are wrong. There has to be a middle way!

We must all have discovered long since that feelings come and go; and the devil, of course, is well aware of that. So his special strategy at this point is to try to make us rely unduly upon our feelings and sensations and sensibilities. He persuades many people to base the whole of their Christian position upon them. They had some wonderful feelings on a certain occasion and they have based everything upon that experience . . . Then, for some reason or another, their feelings seem to desert them . . . and their whole position is shaken. The devil suggests to them that they are not Christians at all, that they have never been Christians. The one thing which had proved to them that they were Christians has gone, and so they are left with nothing.

The danger arises because feelings are a part, indeed a vital and essential part, of the true Christian experience. Let us be clear about that. If we have never felt anything in connection with our faith, then we do not have a true faith. You cannot really believe in this great salvation without feeling something. A man who has a real knowledge of the truth we have been describing is a man who is deeply moved by it. It must be so. You cannot truly realize the presence of God and remain unmoved.

But, unfortunately, the devil comes and tries to cause a division of the human personality . . . The Gospel having brought us to see that the affections, the emotions, must be involved and must be ‘moved’, he then deliberately exaggerates that element. He presses it, and would have us believe that this, and this alone, is the one thing that matters. And so he gets us to rely exclusively upon our feelings . . .

Now it is just here that the breastplate of righteousness is all-important; indeed at this point it is the only adequate protection. The saintly man who wrote in his hymn ‘I dare not trust the sweetest frame’, did so because he knew how fallible these ‘frames’ are, as they used to be called.

David Martyn Lloyd-Jones, The Christian Soldier : An Exposition of Ephesians 6:10 to 20 (Edinburgh; Carlisle, Pa.: Banner of Truth Trust, 1977), 234-35

One fascinating thing that I quote in Raised With Christ is J. I. Packer’s assertion that Puritans were very unlike Christians today in that they liked to talk about their experiences of God. Today I want to share with you the record of a remarkable experience of God had by Pascal. The following quote is a translation of a document found sewn into his clothing after his death. The original French can be found at the link below.

The quote that follows is credited by John Piper with having totally changed his life decades ago, and he speaks about this in a sermon on the DGM site.

Pascal was determined to never forget this encounter with God and the effect that it had on him. Biographers call this “The Memorial” and describe the whole event as a “second conversion,” which came after months of depression and a near death experience (his carriage almost fell over a bridge). He never spoke about the experience to others. But it changed the whole direction of his life.

You will note that the quote mentions nothing about tongues, so do not dismiss it if you are a cessationist: many experienced God without any of the spiritual gifts. Also, do not assume you have experienced all that God has for you, even if you are a tongues-speaking charismatic.

Have you met God like this? If not, I do strongly believe it is entirely right for us to seek to know him like this, indeed it is commanded by the Bible for us to do so. When I read these kind of accounts, to be honest, there is a resonance in some of my memories of meeting with God, BUT they leave me with a hunger for more. Please pray for me as I am praying right now for you, my blog readers, that God will meet with us like this:

The year of grace 1654,

Monday, 23 November, feast of St. Clement, pope and martyr, and others in the martyrology.

Vigil of St. Chrysogonus, martyr, and others.

From about half past ten at night until about half past midnight,

FIRE.

GOD of Abraham, GOD of Isaac, GOD of Jacob

not of the philosophers and of the learned.

Certitude. Certitude. Feeling. Joy. Peace.

GOD of Jesus Christ.

My God and your God.

Your GOD will be my God.

Forgetfulness of the world and of everything, except GOD.

He is only found by the ways taught in the Gospel.

Grandeur of the human soul.

Righteous Father, the world has not known you, but I have known you.

Joy, joy, joy, tears of joy.

I have departed from him:

They have forsaken me, the fount of living water.

My God, will you leave me?

Let me not be separated from him forever.

This is eternal life, that they know you, the one true God, and the one that you sent, Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ.

I left him; I fled him, renounced, crucified.

Let me never be separated from him.

He is only kept securely by the ways taught in the Gospel:

Renunciation, total and sweet.

Complete submission to Jesus Christ and to my director.

Eternally in joy for a day’s exercise on the earth.

May I not forget your words. Amen.

via Pascal’s Memorial@Everything2.com.

We need to be reminded again and again that our works are useless when it comes to impressing God. This was something that I was reminded of again at New Word Alive when Terry Virgo preached on grace, as well as in my preparation for a sermon I preached a few days before entitled Work, Rest, and Play. It has been a while since then, so I thought it would be a good time to remind me of this point once more. I don’t know about you, but I need reminding regularly of the dangers of legalism. This quote from B. B. Warfield speaks to that very well:

“There is nothing in us or done by us, at any stage of our earthly development, because of which we are acceptable to God. We must always be accepted for Christ’s sake, or we cannot be accepted at all. This is not true of us only when we believe. It is just as true after we have believed. It will continue to be true as long as we live. Our need of Christ does not cease with our believing, nor does the nature of our relation to him or to God through him ever alter, no matter what our attainments in Christian graces or our achievements in behavior may be. It is always on His blood and righteousness alone that we can rest.”

— B. B. Warfield, Works 7:113

Carson closed the conference with his final talk on 1 John. I was home by this time, but I was able to listen to it over the weekend. You can do the same by ordering CDs from the New Word Alive website. I will share some short notes of it here.

Because of his love for us, we should love others. If people can’t see God, they can see his love operating in us as we love one another.

In the previous talk, Don spoke of three tests—the truth test, the love test, and the obedience test. But, in fact, the three are connected—you can’t have one without the other.

If you are born of God, it’s because you recognize who Jesus is. If you recognize your sibling, you will love them, and you will want to do what Jesus says if you love him. In the New Testament, faith is not merely a subjective opinion or a synonym for religion. Biblical faith is a belief in the truth. We also trust and abandon ourselves to the risen Christ. We have to pass all three tests, not focus on one or two of them.

Transformed Christian living plays a role in Christian assurance—the “we know” words of 1 John.

We should be careful about how we lead people to assurance. The medieval Catholics said it was pride to think you were sure. Luther claimed that if you didn’t have assurance it meant that you did not really have faith adequately—so if you strengthen your faith it will become assurance. Calvin did say that the Spirit would bear witness. Also, in 1 John we see some grounds. Calvin did say that the cross is by far the strongest place we should go for assurance. The obedience test will never be sufficiently fulfilled in us as we will always feel we have failed and/or will trust in our own works. There is the confirming work of the Spirit. Genuine Christianity perseveres, and the change attests the reality. If there is no change, you should question the reality of your faith. There is matchless assurance for all Christians whose eyes are fixed on the cross and who show some evidence of change.

What do you long for and are most passionate about? Whose approval do you most seek? What gives you greatest joy? What would you most complain about losing? Carson urged us to keep away from idols, and to devote ourselves to God and following him.

No. 7 on the list of most-read posts on this blog appeared on November 26, 2005, and endeavored to explain that curious phenomenon—a charismatic Calvinist or “reformed charismatic.” There was a time when we were considered an oddity and people doubted our existence. Now, at least in England, reformed charismatics are on the ascendancy and many Christians are intrigued by us.

With the resurgence of interest in things reformed and charismatic, I thought I’d post a bit on what I feel is a “reformed charismatic.” Simply put, reformed charismatics are those people who are trying to foster a convergence by taking the best that is available from both charismatics and reformed people. If, like me, you are convinced of the following points, you might be a reformed charismatic:

• Mark Dever and Rick Warren both have useful things to say to the Church.

• C. J. Mahaney is an acceptable person to preach from a pulpit normally filled by John MacArthur.
• You like reading blogs by Tim Challies and Phil Johnson, but also by the pneuma bloggers.
• You like the Alpha Course, and enjoy reading Spurgeon and Piper.
• You just don’t see why there is such anger between certain charismatics and some of their reformed brothers. At the same time you still believe that there really is a truth to discover.
• You are in a reformed church, but secretly long for more of an experience of God. You are in a charismatic church, but secretly enjoy listening to preaching and reading books that teach substantial theology.

In a sense reformed charismatics are occupying the center ground. Like “new Labor,” they advocate a third way. It is really possible, they say, to pursue a solid biblical knowledge and sound doctrine while experiencing the presence and the power of God in a real way today. The Word and the Spirit are not in conflict, but rather work together to cause us to know God.

The charismatics believe in a God who is alive and acts today. We believe in a God who wants a personal relationship with his followers, who hears prayers, who reveals himself, who pours out his love into our hearts, and who never changes and is the same God of the Bible today. We believe that receiving the Holy Spirit is a conscious real experience. We believe that this experience of the Spirit is one of the major ways that God gives us assurance that we are saved.

The reformed believe in the solas of the reformation, and in the classical evangelical position on the gospel. We believe that man is so dead in his sin and facing the wrath of God that he requires a work that entirely originates in God to deal with it.

Read more . . . What is a Reformed Charismatic?

1. John Piper, N. T. Wright, and Gracious Discernment

2. John Piper Challenges N. T. Wright on Justification
3. Piper Explains the Classic View of Justification Versus N. T. Wright’s View
4. Piper and Wright: Does Justification by Faith Save Us?
5. John Piper: Is N. T. Wright Preaching Another Gospel?
6. Legalism Versus Grace in First Century Judaism
7. Hard and Soft Legalism
8. Legalism, Racism, and the First Century Jew
9. 2 Corinthians 5 and Romans 5—Two Critical Passages on Justification
10. The Christian and the Law
11. Piper Gets Passionate with the ETS on Justification
12. Tom Wright’s Response to John Piper
13. Does Piper Neglect the Resurrection?

I would like to conclude by sharing a great summary quote from Dr. Piper which is a fitting climax to what, at least to me, has been an interesting journey through an important book. I hope many of you will go out and buy this book, but remember, buy Pierced for Our Transgressions first! This book will stretch you, but to be stretched is sometimes a good idea!

So, what is the crux of the doctrine of justification, according to Piper?

“Our only hope for living the radical demands of the Christian life is that God is totally for us now and forever. Therefore, God has not ordained that living the Christian life should be the basis of our hope that God is for us. That basis is the death and righteousness of Christ, counted as ours through faith alone. On the cross Christ endured for us all the punishment required of us because of our sin. And in order that God, as our Father, might be completely for us and not against us forever, Christ has performed for us in his perfect obedience to God all that God required of us.

This punishment and this obedience are completed and past. They can never change. Our union with Christ and the enjoyment of these benefits is secure forever. Through faith alone, God establishes our union with Christ. This union will never fail, because in Christ, God is for us as an omnipotent Father who sustains our faith, and works all things together for our everlasting good. The one and only instrument through which God preserves our union with Christ is faith in Christ—the purely receiving act of the soul.” (p. 184)

Book photo courtesy of Tony S. Reinke, The Shepherd’s Scrapbook. Used by permission.

There are few places where one can go to study church history more rewarding than Dr. John Piper’s biographical talks. He has a way of opening up the life of a great hero of the faith and showing us what we can learn from them. I’m finding myself in John Owen’s Communion with the Triune God quite consistently at the moment, and am now over half-way through the book. I am finding it to be sweet to the soul and, thanks to Justin & Company, relatively easy going on the eyes!

I thought I would have a look at what the modern John has to say about his namesake. Piper begins his biography by emphasizing just how prominent an influence Owen has had in the centuries since his death. He even quotes approvingly those who elevate John Owen above Piper’s other theological hero, Jonathan Edwards! Certainly his list of modern greats who express their debt to Owen is impressive.

But what I want to draw your attention to this Friday is the section which speaks about the experiential nature of an event that happened to John Owen years after he had become intellectually convinced of Calvinism. The event below is often described as Owen’s conversion, although Piper, in introdcucing it, expresses some doubt about that. When confronted with events as experiential as those described below, we are faced with a dilemma. Many Christians today never experience this kind of personalized assurance of salvation. For many of those who have come before us, until they knew something of the love of God shed abroad in their own hearts, they could not confidently claim to be Christians.

Thus, one of two conclusions become possible. First, we might infer from reading about previous heroes of the faith that all salvation MUST be accompanied by an experience. Thus, we would have to conclude that many alive today in our churches have never truly been saved. Second, we could infer that while it is possible to become a Christian without any great emotional fireworks being set off, there is a distinct experience of God’s Spirit that is available and brings assurance.

Ironically, a doctrine of a distinct experience of God could, in fact, be necessary precisely to allow for the fact that believers differ in the extent of their awareness of the presence and love of God. Far from creating “second class” Christians, it could be that this doctrine is necessary to ensure that people whose conversion expereince is not as dramatic as those outlined below can still be classed as Christians.

Can anyone read these accounts and be satisfied with an inferior experience of God? Or, like me, does reading them make you yearn for more of God? If the latter, let me encourage you to pray that God will reveal himself personally to you in the way he has to so many others before you. Then, read the Bible, sit under sermons, and continue to trust in God irrespective of what you feel while earnestly seeking the God who loved you so much that he came and died for you.

Let’s see how John Piper describes the conversion of John Owen, which he writes about in a section detailing five events that shaped Owen’s life:

The first is his conversion—or his assurance of salvation and deepening of his personal communion with God. It is remarkable that it happened in a way almost identical to Charles Spurgeon’s conversion two centuries later. On January 6, 1850 Spurgeon was driven by a snow storm into a Primitive Methodist Chapel where a layman stood in for the pastor and took the text from Isaiah 45:22, “Look to me and be saved, all the ends of the earth.” Spurgeon looked and was saved.

Owen was a convinced Calvinist with large doctrinal knowledge, but he lacked the sense of the reality of his own salvation. That sense of personal reality in all that he wrote was going to make all the difference in the world for Owen in the years to come. So what happened one Sunday in 1642 is very important.

When Owen was 26 years old he went with his cousin to hear the famous Presbyterian, Edmund Calamy, at St. Mary’s Church Aldermanbury. But it turned out Calamy could not preach and a country preacher took his place. Owen’s cousin wanted to leave. But something held Owen to his seat. The simple preacher took as his text Matthew 8:26, “Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?” It was God’s appointed word and appointed time for Owen’s awakening. His doubts and fears and worries as to whether he was truly born anew by the Holy Spirit were gone. He felt himself liberated and adopted as a Son of God. When you read the penetrating practical works of Owen on the work of the Spirit and the nature of true communion with God it is hard to doubt the reality of what God did on this Sunday in 1642.

Later in this biographical article Piper quotes Packer to further elaborate on this vital issue of communion with God:

Packer says that the Puritans differ from evangelicals today because with them “. . . communion with God was a great thing; to evangelicals today it is a comparatively small thing. The Puritans were concerned about communion with God in a way that we are not. The measure of our unconcern is the little that we say about it. When Christians meet, they talk to each other about their Christian work and Christian interests, their Christian acquaintances, the state of the churches, and the problems of theology—but rarely of their daily experience of God.”

But God was seeing to it that Owen and the suffering Puritans of his day lived closer to God and sought after communion with God more earnestly than we. Writing a letter during an illness in 1674 he said to a friend, “Christ is our best friend, and ere long will be our only friend. I pray God with all my heart that I may be weary of everything else but converse and communion with Him.” God was using illness and all the other pressures of Owen’s life to drive him into communion with God and not away from it.

But Owen was also very intentional about his communion with God. He said, “Friendship is most maintained and kept up by visits; and these, the more free and less occasioned by urgent business . . .” In other words, in the midst of all his academic and political and ecclesiastical labors he made many visits to his Friend, Jesus Christ.

And when he went he did not just go with petitions for things or even for deliverance in his many hardships. He went to see his glorious friend and to contemplate his greatness. The last book he wrote—he was finishing it as he died—is called Meditations on the Glory of Christ. That says a great deal about the focus and outcome of Owen’s life. In it he said:

“The revelation . . . of Christ . . . deserves the severest of our thoughts, the best of our meditations and our utmost diligence in them . . . What better preparation can there be for [our future enjoyment of the glory of Christ] than in a constant previous contemplation of that glory in the revelation that is made in the Gospel?”

Lest we be in any doubt about how personally challenging John Piper finds the life of Owen, he states:

“Owen was authentic in commending in public only what he had experienced in private.

One great hindrance to holiness in the ministry of the word is that we are prone to preach and write without pressing into the things we say and making them real to our own souls. Over the years words begin to come easy, and we find we can speak of mysteries without standing in awe; we can speak of purity without feeling pure; we can speak of zeal without spiritual passion; we can speak of God’s holiness without trembling; we can speak of sin without sorrow; we can speak of heaven without eagerness. And the result is a terrible hardening of the spiritual life.”

Piper goes on to quote Owen as follows:

“A man preacheth that sermon only well unto others which preacheth itself in his own soul. And he that doth not feed on and thrive in the digestion of the food which he provides for others will scarce make it savoury unto them; yea, he knows not but the food he hath provided may be poison, unless he have really tasted of it himself. If the word do not dwell with power in us, it will not pass with power from us.”