Wesley: Why the Bible Must Be a Divine Book

John Wesley's argument for the divine origin of the Bible:

The Bible must be the invention of either good men or angels, bad men or devils, or of God.

1. It could not be the invention of good men or angels, for they neither would nor could make a book, and tell lies all the time they were writing it, saying, "Thus saith the Lord," when it was their own invention.

2. It could not be the invention of bad men or devils, for they would not make a book which commands all duty, forbids all sin, and condemns their souls to hell to all eternity.

3. Therefore I draw this conclusion that the Bible must be given by divine inspiration.

--quoted in A. Skevington Wood, The Inextinguishable Blaze: Spiritual Renewal and Advance in the 18th Century, 228

The Immanuel Mantra

And the mantra at work in the life of one dear church member:



immanuelnashville.com

Are Faith and Repentance Themselves 'Works' by Which We Are Justified?

Edwards, jotting down private ruminations in a personal notebook--

Faith is the condition of salvation because it trusts in Christ and ascribes salvation to him. Repentance is the condition because it renounces confidence in self and disclaims the glory of salvation. So neither of them justifies as a work, for the nature of the one is to renounce works, and the nature of the other is to depend on the works of another.

--Jonathan Edwards, Miscellany #620, in Works, Yale ed., 18:152

Redemptive History and Edmund

In his delightful new book Echoes of Eden, Jerram Barrs identifies the themes of creation, fall, and redemption in Lewis' The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe. In reflecting on the theme of fall in this book, he zeroes in on Edmund.

The account of Edmund being brought under the witch’s sway is masterful, for this is indeed how evil works in our hearts and minds, appealing to our worst instincts, shrewdly summing up our character flaws and then exploiting them. She presents Edmund her treats as if they were generous gifts rather than instruments of deceit and control. The gifts of evil always have a cost (the Turkish delight and the hot chocolate drink) and do not satisfy, but rather enslave the one who receives them. Edmund begins to lie more and more and to deceive himself about the true nature of the Witch, about himself and about everyone else.

As he comes more under the Witch’s control the impact on Edmund is to make him ever angrier with his brother and sisters, meaner, more spiteful, more self-centered. All evil is like this for it destroys our humanity, making us less than who we are. We should notice too, that his deceit and betrayal do not make him happy, but rather more and more miserable. This is the true face of evil: it always reaps a harvest of destruction in our own lives and the lives of others. Choosing evil is a curse with many sorrows.

Indulging in evil has the effect of alienating, or separating, Edmund from others: from his brother and sisters, from the beavers and from all decent creatures. Choosing evil has the effect of alienating, or separating, Edmund from himself. His foolish choices make him very uncomfortable when Aslan is mentioned. In just this way all evil alienates, or separates, us from God. Edmund’s selected path has the effect of alienating, or separating, him from nature and from his proper place in this world, distorting his natural and right desire for dominion, and turning it into something mean and ugly. Like all of us Edmund was intended to rule in this world as God’s steward. Edmund becomes entranced by dreams of power. He imagines himself as king of Narnia, indulging his every whim and keeping others, especially his elder brother, Peter, in lower positions than himself. Evil has the effect of undermining his enjoyment of the beauty of creation. Just so, sin brings alienation into every area of our lives.

Yet, there is a note of hope, for Edmund is aware of what is happening in his own heart and he is not given up fully to evil. Instead we see the struggle that takes place in him, the memories of goodness in his heart, and above all his pity for the creatures enjoying their Christmas party – the squirrels, foxes and satyrs whom the witch turns to stone, even though Edmund intercedes on their behalf. It is this pity in him that gives us a glimmer of hope for his deliverance and restoration, for pity is at the heart of redemption.

--Jerram Barrs, Echoes of Eden: Reflections on Christianity, Literature, and the Arts (Crossway, 2013), 100-101

Jesus Redefines the Ceiling of What Is Possible (John 3)

Nicodemus: 'We know that you are a teacher having come from God. For no one is able [dunatai] to do these signs that you do unless God is with him.'

Jesus: 'I tell you, unless someone is born again, he is not able [dunatai] to see the kingdom of God.'

Nicodemus: 'How is a man able [dunatai] to be born, being old? He is not able [dunatai] to enter a second time into his mother's womb and be born, is he?'

Jesus: 'I tell you, unless someone is born not only of water but also of the Spirit, he is not able [dunatai] to enter into the kingdom of God. . . . The Spirit blows where it wills. . . .'

Nicodemus: 'How is it possible [dunatai] that these things are so?'

In Jesus, all intuitive and reasonable limits and prerequisites to what is humanly possible (dunatai) are swept away as we are ushered into a new universe of possibilities in which God and his happy omnipotence of grace--not we and our puzzled 'But . . .'--defines how Life washes over us.