Showing posts with label John Owen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label John Owen. Show all posts

John Owen's (Surprising) Counsel to Struggling, Doubting Believers


In his masterful exposition of Psalm 130, the seventeenth-century Puritan John Owen gave the church  one of the most comprehensive theological and pastoral treatments of forgiveness of sin and assurance ever written. This is one of my favorite of Owen's books and one that I return to over and again.

Near the end of his exposition, Owen includes a wonderfully encouraging chapter for saints struggling with sin. Having already presented an extensive exposition of the nature of gospel forgiveness, Owen is now turning to objections. And among the objections he addresses are those "arising from the consideration of [the soul's] present state and condition as to actual holiness, duties, and sins." (Owen, Works 6:600). Owen further explains:
"Souls complain, when in darkness and under temptations, that they cannot find that holiness, nor those fruits of it in themselves, which they suppose an interest in pardoning mercy will produce. Their hearts they find are weak, and their duties worthless. If they were weighed in the balance, they would all be found too light. In the best of them there is such a mixture of self, hypocrisy, unbelief, vain-glory, that they are even ashamed and confounded with the remembrance of them."  (Works, 6:600, emphasis Owen's)
I suppose any earnest and honest Christian has experienced this: doubts regarding the reality of God's forgiveness, struggles with assurance, that are rooted in the consciousness of one's struggles with sin and weakness in holiness.

How do you suppose Owen responds?

Keep in mind that this is the author of that hard-hitting trilogy on mortification, temptation, and indwelling sin (which are, incidentally, bound in the same volume). This is the Puritan about which the Scottish professor John Duncan said to his students, "Prepare for the knife!" What do you think Owen would say to you when you are doubting your salvation because of your low-levels of holiness and on your ongoing battles with sin?

You might be surprised.

Don't just sit there, do something 

Owen first reminds his readers to "take heed of heartless complaints when vigorous actings of grace are expected at our hands." This is a reference back to one his previous directions for those who are waiting on God for assurance. His point is to counter an unbelieving kind of spiritual passivity. Think of the person who just blew it with anger or lust again, and so is again doubting his or her salvation. "I must not be a Christian at all," they conclude. Clouds of guilt hang overhead. But instead of seeking God's face, the struggling sinner starts channel-surfing. No bible-reading, no prayer, no waiting on God. To this person, Owen would say,
"why lie you on your faces? why do you not rise and put yourselves to the utmost, giving all diligence to add one grace to another, until you find yourselves in a better frame?" 
In other words, don't be passive: rouse yourself and seek the Lord!

But that is not all Owen says, for he knows that there are sincere, seeking saints who yet struggle with great discouragement over their sins. And it is to such persons that he now turns.

Don't trust in your sanctification for justification 

The next thing he does is show us that our remaining sins remind us that we are not justified by our holiness, but by grace alone: "known holiness is apt to degenerate into self-righteousness," he writes. "What God gives us on the account of sanctification we are ready enough to reckon on the score of justification...We have so much of the Pharisee in us by nature that it is sometimes well that our good is hid from us. We are ready to take our corn and wine and bestow them on other lovers."

What I think Owen means by this is that sometimes when we are doing well, we start looking at our holiness as if it were the righteousness that commends us to God. We trust in our sanctification as the basis of our justification. And when we're in this state of mind, indwelling sin brings us back to our senses and reminds us that we are saved wholly by grace.

Owen continues,
"Were there not in our hearts a spiritually sensible principle of corruption, and in our duties a discernible mixture of self, it would be impossible we should walk so humbly as is required of them who hold communion with God in a covenant of grace and pardoning mercy. It is a good life which is attended with a faith of righteousness and a sense of corruption." (Works, 6:600, emphasis mine)
In other words, Owen is saying, be humbled and remember that you are saved by grace.

Struggling against indwelling sin is an evidence of grace 

A couple of paragraphs later, Owen reminds us that,
"Oftentimes holiness in the heart is more known by the opposition that is made there to it, than by its own prevalent working. The Spirit's operation is known by the flesh's opposition. We find a man's strength by the burdens he carries, and not the pace that he goes. 'O wretched man that I am! who shall deliver me from the body of this death?' is a better evidence of grace and holiness than 'God, I thank thee that I am not as other men.'" (Works, 6:601, emphasis Owen's)
The nuancing that follows shows that Owen is not veering into antinomianism here. He doesn't mean that we should continue in sin that grace may abound. He is speaking not to the profligate who has turned grace into a license for sin, but to the those who know the "close, adhering power of indwelling sin, tempting, seducing, soliciting, hindering, captivating, conceiving, [and] restlessly disquieting." Only those who pursue holiness and fight the good fight of faith have really experienced this intense assault of indwelling sin. But as Owen says, "He may have more grace than another who brings not forth so much fruit as the other, because he hath more opposition, more temptation..."

God accepts your imperfect duties because of Christ 

Perhaps the most surprising thing Owen says is this:
"Know that God despiseth not small things. He takes notice of the least breathings of our hearts after him when we ourselves can see nor perceive no such thing. He knows the mind of the Spirit in those workings which are never formed to that height that we can reflect upon them with our observation. Everything that is of him is noted in his book, though not in our ours . . . even whilst his people are sinning, he can find something in their hearts, words or ways, that pleaseth him; much more in their duties. He is a skillful refiner, that can find much gold in that ore where we see nothing but lead or clay. He remembers the duties which we forget, and forgets the sins which we remember..."  (Works, 6:602-603; emphasis of last sentence mine)
How can God do this? Only because of Christ. "Jesus Christ takes whatever is evil and unsavory out of [our duties], and makes them acceptable . . . God accepts a little, and Christ makes our little a great deal."

Grow in faith in order to grow in holiness  

His final response is to exhort us to faith in Christ for sanctification. Read carefully what he says:
"The reason why thou art no more holy is because thou has no more faith. If thou hast no holiness, it is because thou has not faith. Holiness is the purifying of the heart by faith, or our obedience unto the truth. And the reason why thou art no more in duty, is because thou art no more in believing. The reason why thy duties are weak and imperfect is, because faith is weak and imperfect. Hast thou no holiness? believe, that thou mayest have. Hast thou but a little, or that which is imperceptible? -- be steadfast in believing, that thou mayest abound in obedience." (Works, 6:603)
These excerpts demonstrate once more John Owen's wisdom and skill in the art of soul surgery. Owen is a surefooted guide on the narrow road of gospel holiness, avoiding both the precipice of legalism on the left and gulf of antinomianism on the right. When he counsels the doubting Christian who is discouraged by the presence of indwelling sin, Owen does not simply tell them (us) to quit sinning and work harder at being holy (the legalistic approach). But neither does he say holiness doesn't matter (the antinomian approach).

He instead shows us that our failures should cause us to slay self-righteousness and grasp tenaciously to God's grace and mercy in Christ. He reminds us that genuine struggle against indwelling sin is itself an evidence of God's grace in our lives. He points us to God's mercy in Christ, reminding us that God mercifully receives even the imperfect obedience of all those who are accepted in his Son. And he exhorts us to deeper faith in Christ himself, since faith is the root of holiness.


5 Requirements for Pastoral Preaching

When I set out to write on the craft of sermon preparation, I didn’t get far before realizing that isolating the mechanics of preparing a sermon from the biblical teaching on a pastor’s calling runs the risk of reducing this tremendous responsibility to a list of techniques. Paul does tell Timothy to rightly handle the word of truth (2 Tim 2:15). And Ecclesiastes reminds us that  “The Preacher sought to find words of delight” (Eccl 12:10). So good communication is a biblical priority for any one charged with proclaiming the word. But it’s not the only priority. More has to be said.

In his treatise on The True Nature of a Gospel Church, the 17th century pastor-theologian John Owen explained eleven distinct responsibilities of pastors, including preaching, prayer, and the administration of the sacraments. Under the mandate “tofeed the flock by diligent preaching of the word,” Owen listed five requirements for “the work and duty of pastoral preaching.”[i] I find Owen’s words to be challenging, biblical, and helpful in providing guidance for preaching that doesn’t focus mainly on technique.
1. Know the Scriptures
The first requirement is “spiritual wisdom and understanding of the mysteries of the gospel,” so that we are equipped to declare “all the counsel of God” and “the unsearchable riches of Christ” (Acts 20:271 Cor 2:4-7Eph 3:8-11). If we are heralds of God’s word, we must know the Scriptures. Sadly, I’ve known ministers who have never read all the way through their Bibles. But shouldn’t someone charged with proclaiming the truth of Scripture make it an ongoing priority to read, meditate on, and study it well? Every preacher needs a broad working knowledge of God’s word and a commitment to read through both Testaments with regularity. But Owen wasn’t thinking merely about grasping the Bible’s content, but also “spiritual insight” into scriptural truth.
2. Experience the power of the truth
This naturally led to his second requirement, an “experience of the power of the truth which they preach in and upon their own souls.” It’s not enough to know the truth. We must also experience its saving, sanctifying influence in our hearts.
The 19th century Scottish pastor, Robert Murray M’Cheyne, was a great example of this. His biographer said that M’Cheyne “fed others by what he himself was feeding upon. His preaching was in a manner the development of his soul’s experience.”[ii]
That’s exactly what Owen was after. “A man preacheth that sermon only well unto others which preacheth itself in his own soul,” he said. “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…If the word do not dwell with power in us, it will not pass with power from us."
3. Prepare the message
But this emphasis didn’t lead Owen to neglect the rigor and discipline of careful study. Owen’s third requirement is, “skill to divide the word aright” (2 Tim 2:15). This consists “in a practical wisdom, upon a diligent attendance unto the word of truth, to find out what is real, substantial, and meet food for the souls of the hearers.” As someone suggested in an illustration that’s as heart-warming as it is quaint, it’s like a father skillfully carving the Sunday roast, to give the proper portion to each member of the family.
This is the place to highlight the craft of sermon preparation. While whole books have been written on this, I think we can compress the process into three phases:
(1) The task begins with selecting the preaching passage and studying the passage and its theological themes. (This presupposes, of course, my conviction that true preaching must be both expositional and theological.) This often involves heavy reading, though the longer you preach, the broader your knowledge of both Scripture and theology should be. But even so, we need to stay fresh and sharp. And that means reading.
(2) As you study, you gather a large amount of raw material. I’ve found it helpful to compile as much as possible into a single file devoted to the specific message I’m preparing. This usually includes the text of the passage I’m preaching on; written observations about the passage; important cross references; notes from commentaries; potential outlines for the sermon; as well as possible illustrations and ideas for application.
(3) Finally this material must be shaped into a message. This requires determining the main theme and focus of the sermon, crafting a clear structure with a smooth flow of thought, and developing a “homiletical plot” for the message that seeks a deliberate intersection between our fallen condition and God’s redemptive grace revealed in the gospel.[iii]
4. Know your flock
Thinking through the fallen condition of our hearers naturally leads to Owen’s fourth requirement, “a prudent and diligent consideration of the state of the flock… their strength or weakness, their growth or defect in knowledge…their temptations and duties, their spiritual decays or thrivings.” Owen saw an integral relationship between a pastor’s care for the flock and his feeding of the flock in the ministry of the word. But even when our context today involves a less personal relationship between pastors and people, we should remember that preaching is not merely teaching or motivational speaking. It is the work of a shepherd charged with guarding, tending, and feeding the flock. Therefore, we must do our best to understand the spiritual conditions of our hearers. 
5. Check your motives
Finally, Owen reminds us that all these duties should be “constantly accompanied with the evidence of zeal for the glory of God and compassion for the souls of men.”Motivation is all-important. With a nod to the old catechism, the “chief end” of preaching “is to glorify God and enjoy him forever.” But zeal for God’s glory necessarily includes love and compassion for people, born of a deep recognition of both our shared need for the good news of God’s saving word. In the words of Richard Baxter, I should “preach as never sure to preach again, as a dying man to dying men.”[iv]
What a high calling!
Reading guys like Baxter, Owen, and M’Cheyne help me feel something of the gravitas I should always feel when approaching the pulpit. It makes me say, “Who is sufficient for these things?” (2 Cor 2:16) I know that I’m not. But that realization, too, is part of the preparation process.  For, in the words of Paul,
What we proclaim is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake.  For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. (2 Cor 4:5-7)
This post was written for ChurchPastor.com
Notes
[i] All quotes from John Owen are from Chapter V in The True Nature of a Gospel Church in The Works of John Owen, volume 16 (Carlisle, PA: The Banner of Truth Trust, 1968).
[ii] Andrew Bonar, Memoirs & Remains of Robert Murray M’Cheyne (Carlisle, PA: The Banner of Truth Trust, 2004), p. 36.
[iii] For further help on discerning the “fallen condition” and “gospel solution” see Bryan Chapell’s excellentChrist-centered Preaching: Redeeming the Expository Sermon (Grand Rapids, MI: Baker Academic, 2005). I’ve also found help in Eugene Lowry’s The Homiletical Plot: The Sermon as Narrative Art Form (Louisville, KY: Westminster John Knox Press, 2000).
[iv] Quoted in I. D. E. Thomas, A Puritan Golden Treasury (Carlisle, PA: The Banner of Truth Trust, 1977) p. 223.

Communion with Christ in the Grace of Sanctification


In his magnificent masterpiece, Communion with the Triune God, John Owen discusses how believers have distinct communion with each member of the Trinity. 

Discussing “Communion with Christ in the Grace of Sanctification,” Owen shows the difference between people who are convicted of sin but pursue holiness in their own strength and believers who look to Christ for holiness: 

Convinced persons who know not Christ, nor the fellowship of his sufferings, would spin a holiness out of their own bowels; they would work it out in their own strength. They begin it with trying endeavors (Rom. 10:1–4); and follow it with vows, duties, resolutions, engagements, sweating at it all the day long. Thus they continue for a season—their hypocrisy, for the most part, ending in apostasy.

The saints of God do, in the very entrance of their walking with him, reckon upon it that they have a threefold want:
            (1) of the Spirit of holiness to dwell in them;
            (2) of a habit of holiness to be infused into them;
            (3) of actual assistance to work all their works for them;
and that if these should continue to be wanting, they can never, with all their might, power, and endeavors perform any one act of holiness before the Lord.

They know that of themselves they have no sufficiency—that without Christ they can do nothing (John 15:5): therefore they look to him, who is entrusted with a fullness of all these in their behalf; and thereupon by faith derive from him an increase of that whereof they stand in need.

Thus, I say, have the saints communion with Christ, as to their sanctification and holiness.
From him do they receive the Spirit to dwell in them;
from him the new principle of life, which is the root of all their
obedience;
from him have they actual assistance for every duty they are called unto.

In waiting for, expectation, and receiving of these blessings, on the accounts before mentioned, do they spend their lives and time with him. In vain is help looked for from other mountains; in vain do men spend their strength in following after righteousness, if this be wanting.

Fix your soul here; you shall not tarry until you be ashamed.

This is the way, the only way,
to obtain full, effectual manifestations of the Spirit’s dwelling in us;
to have our hearts purified,
our consciences purged,
our sins mortified,
our graces increased,
our souls made humble, holy, zealous, believing—like to him;
to have our lives fruitful, our deaths comfortable.

Let us herein abide, eyeing Christ by faith, to attain that measure of conformity to him which is allotted unto us in this world, that when we shall see him as he is, we may be like unto him.


--John Owen, Communion with the Triune God, edited Kelly M. Kapic and Justin Taylor, Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2007, p. 333. (Emphasis and breakdown into paragraphs mine.)

Why is Waiting on God So Hard?



Most of us don’t like waiting.
We are annoyed with lengthy checkout lines at the store, frustrated by long red lights, and (if you live in northern Indiana like me) depressed with the lingering of winter temperatures in the middle of April. But we especially don’t like waiting on God. Of all the commands of Scripture, perhaps this is one of the hardest to obey.
But the times and seasons for waiting on the Lord are many and varied. Scripture teaches us to wait on the Lord for guidance (Psalms 25:5), deliverance (Psalms 33:20), answers to prayer (Psalms 38:15), strength (Isaiah 40:31), and fresh assurance of God’s pardon and forgiveness (Psalms 130:5).
Of course, we want these things now. Our needs seem urgent. We want immediate answers. That’s why waiting is so hard.
How to Wait
Waiting on the Lord is difficult, but it isn’t a passive activity. It’s not like waiting on your dentist or waiting for surgery, where you perhaps feel dread but little else. Waiting on the Lord is an act of faith.
The 17th century pastor john owen compared waiting on the Lord to sailors at sea who were at a great distance from land and beset with storms, yet were sustained in hope by the glimpse of land on the distant horizon.
What does it mean to wait? Owen, who was writing specifically about waiting on the Lord for the assurance of forgiveness and pardon, highlights three things: quietness, diligence, and expectancy.
First of all, we need quietness. This is the opposite of a fretful mind, a troubled, anxious heart. “It is good that one should wait quietly for the salvation of the Lord” (Lamentations 3:26). “Be still before the Lord and wait patiently for him” (Psalms 37:7).
But we also need diligence. Quietness doesn’t mean passivity, lethargy, or spiritual sloth. Waiting also involves faithfully following the Lord in everything we know to be right.  As the Psalmist says, “Wait for the Lord, and keep his way” (Psalms 37:34).
For Owen, this especially meant diligence in using the means of grace (or, to use a contemporary phrase, the spiritual disciplines). “This, then, belongs unto the waiting of the soul: diligence in the use of means, whereby God is pleased ordinarily to communicate a sense of pardon and forgiveness,” Owen writes. “What these means are is known. Prayer, meditation, reading, hearing of the word, dispensation of the sacraments, they are all appointed to this purpose; they are all means of communicating love and grace to the soul.”
The third component to waiting is expectancy. If quietness keeps us from worry, and diligence from sloth, expectancy guards the heart from unbelief and despair. Waiting is to be hopeful. “I wait for the LORD, my soul waits, and in his word I hope” (Psalms 130:5). “From of old no one has heard or perceived by the ear, no eye has seen a God besides you, who acts for those who wait for him” (Isaiah 64:4).
Owen’s components to waiting show remarkable balance. Quietness without diligence can make us passive, lazy, negligent, and lead to escapism. But diligence without a quiet heart is just thinly disguised self-reliance. And either of these without hope in God himself will leave us trusting ourselves, rather than God and the promises of his word. 
The God on Whom We Wait
The most important part of waiting is remembering who it is that we wait for, namely, God himself.Isaiah 40:31, quoted above, is one of the best known passages on waiting, a common caption for framed art, usually under the picture of an eagle soaring in the mountain heights. But sometimes we forget the rest of Isaiah 40, a magnificent chapter that calls us to behold our God in all of his transcendent greatness in majesty (see Isaiah 40:12). 
This is the God who holds oceans in his hand and measures the sands of the earth the way a chef measures sugar, salt, and flour. This is the God who weighs mountains in a balance and stretches the heavens like a curtain. This is the God who names and numbers the stars! He is so great, in fact, that we might be tempted to think that a God this powerful couldn’t possibly be concerned with the minute details of our petty, insignificant lives.
But that’s exactly the response anticipated and countered in the text!
   Why do you say, O Jacob,
      and speak, O Israel,
   “My way is hidden from the LORD,
      and my right is disregarded by my God”?
   Have you not known? Have you not heard?
   The LORD is the everlasting God,
      the Creator of the ends of the earth.
   He does not faint or grow weary;
      his understanding is unsearchable.
  He gives power to the faint,
      and to him who has no might he increases strength.
   Even youths shall faint and be weary,
       and young men shall fall exhausted;
       but they who wait for the LORD shall renew their strength;
       they shall mount up with wings like eagles;
       they shall run and not be weary;
       they shall walk and not faint. (Isaiah 40:27)
The Lord, in other words, is not only a God of transcendent power and majestic greatness, he is also a God of immanent strength who delights to strengthen the weak.
The God on whom we wait is not only great, he is also near.
And this is exactly the kind of God we need. If we lose either his greatness or his nearness, we will also lose faith and hope.
So, take a moment to test your theology. What is your view of God? If you think of God as remote and powerful, but basically unconcerned with the details of your life, you will lack warmth in your faith. Your view of God will be cold and distant. Your relationship with God won’t be marked by either a heart of trust or the practice of prayer. At best, God will be a distant sovereign, a king who doesn’t care too much. At worst, you’ll drift into either resentment towards God or practical atheism – living as if he doesn’t exist at all.
On the other hand, if you think of God as near, personal, and caring, as a friend with whom you can talk, but not a God of exhaustive wisdom, power, majesty and sovereignty, then you will lack reverence in your faith. Your view of God will be mushy and sentimental. Your faith will sound as hollow as a Hallmark commercial. Maybe it makes you feel good, but will it really do any good? And over time you will likely drift away even from the warmth of friendship with God, because your faith will lack the gravitas that comes from knowing that he reigns as sovereign over all.
But if your view of God rests on his unchanging revelation of himself in Scripture, your faith will be both strong and warm. You will not always understand God or his ways, but you will trust his inscrutable wisdom and his steadfast love. And you will be able to wait for him with quietness, diligence, and expectant faith.

John Owen on the Work of the Spirit in Prayer

In the double interests of going deeper in some of my favorite theologians and trying to strengthen my own prayer life, I've recently been reading John Owen's The Work of the Holy Spirit in Prayer. This 116 page treatise is actually the seventh out of nine "books" in Owen's magnum opus Pneumatologia: A Discourse Concerning the Holy Spirit. 

Because it is situated within the larger framework of Owen's pneumatology, it has a fairly narrow focus as far as prayer is concerned. 

It is nothing close to an exhaustive treatment of prayer in general (although everything by Owen feels exhaustive - and sometimes exhausting - in comparison with most contemporary writing!), but rather a study of the Holy Spirit's particular role in prayer. 

I'd like to write a more thorough summary of the book, but that's going to take more time than I presently have. So, in the interests of sharing at least some of what I've been learning from Owen, here's a shorter post on just one part of Owen's book.

In chapter six, having already discussed the matter of prayer, Owen takes up the role of the Spirit in the manner of prayer and outlines four specific things the Spirit does in helping us to pray as we should. 

And, in typical Owenian (and Puritan) fashion, there are also a few sub-points along the way! 

In what follows, I've paraphrased Owen, except when direct quotes are used. All the quotes are from volume 4 of Owen's Works

The Spirit works on our wills and affections. 

He not only enables us to pray, he also gives us affections suited to the things we pray about. "And in this work of the Spirit lies the fountain of that inexpressible fervency and delight, of those enlarged labourings of mind and desires, which are in the prayers of believers, especially when they are under the power of more than ordinary influences from him." (p. 288) 

Owen's main Scriptural support for this comes from Romans 8:26-27, where Paul writes about the Spirit's intercession for us with groanings that cannot be uttered. Owen understands this to be "nothing but his working in us and acting by us that frame of heart and those fervent, labouring desires, which are so expressed, and these with such depth of intension and labouring of mind as cannot be uttered." (p. 288). I'm not sure this is the only thing meant by the Spirit's intercession, but surely Owen's general point stands. 

The Spirit works in the soul an "inward labouring of heart and spirit," that is, a "holy, supernatural desire and endeavor." (p. 288) 

This point seems somewhat coextensive with the first. And, in fact, Owen's following exposition is primarily focused on distinguishing the intercessory work of the Spirit in Romans 8:26-27 from the intercessory work of Christ in Romans 8:34. 

But I think Owen here intends to describe the Spirit's work in giving us earnestness in prayer, whereas the first point had more to do with the affections themselves. Think of point #1 as having to do with the kind of affections we need, and point #2 with their degree

The Spirit gives the believer "a delight in God as the object of prayer." (p. 290) 

Owen now has in mind a very specific and necessary kind of affection, which he further characterizes as a "a filial, holy delight in God...such as children have in their parents in their most affection addresses unto them" (p. 291). ("Filial," by the way, is an obscure word that means "befitting a son or daughter.") 

This is what Paul means when he says that the Spirit causes us to cry out "Abba, Father." 

This kind of delight is important, according to Owen, because "without it ordinarily the duty of prayer is not accepted with God, and is a barren, burdensome task unto them by whom it is performed" (p. 290-291).

Owen then discusses three things included in this delight. 

"A sight or prospect of God as on a throne of grace." 

See Hebrews 4:16

Owen further clarifies that this prospect is by "spiritual illumination" or faith, and that it the throne of grace is the holy place which we enter into with boldness through the blood of Jesus. See Hebrews 10:19. "God, therefore, on a throne of grace is God as in a readiness through Jesus Christ to dispense grace and mercy to suppliant sinners." 

This is Owen at his gospel-centered best. He is showing us how the Triune persons of the Godhead work together in relation to prayer. The Spirit gives us access to the Father through the Son. See Ephesians 2:18. In Owen's words, "it is the work of the Spirit, who alone, in and through Christ, revealeth God unto us, and enableth us to discern him in a due manner . . . All the acquaintance which we have with God, in a way of grace, is from the revelation made in us by his Spirit" (p. 292).

"Unto this delight is required a sense of God's relation unto us as a Father." 

See 2 Corinthians 6:18, Ephesians 2:18, and Romans 8:16

"There is nothing more essential" to the duty of prayer than this: that "we address ourselves unto God under the notion of a Father; that is, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, and in him our Father also. Without this we cannot have that holy delight in this duty which is required in us, and the want whereof  ordinarily ruins our designs in it." In other words, without the faith-fueled delight of a child in God as our Father, prayer is ruined. 

But the only way to get this kind of child-like delight in the Father is from the Holy Spirit. 

This delight is also characterized by boldness. 

See Hebrews 10:19, 22

This boldness includes both (a) "freedom of speech" (2 Corinthians 3:17) and (b) "confidence of acceptance." 
  • "Freedom of speech" is the ability of the heart to "express all its concerns unto God as a child unto its father." 
  • And by "confidence of acceptance" Owen means not the assurance that we'll get every single thing we ask for, but rather the "holy persuasion that God is well pleased" with our prayers and accepts us when we come to his throne. 

The Spirit keeps believers focused on Jesus Christ "as the only way and means of acceptance with God." 

See John 16:16, Ephesians 2:18, Romans 5:2, and Galatians 4:6

The Spirit of God is "the Spirit of the Son." He has been sent to glorify Christ in our hearts. And it is because of his work in our hearts that we call out to God as Father. "And hereof believers have a refreshing experience in themselves; nor doth any thing leave a better savour or relish in their souls than when they have had their hearts and minds kept close, in the exercise of faith, on Christ the mediator in their prayers" (p. 296).

Summary

So, how does the Spirit work in our prayers? 
  • He inclines our wills and stirs our affections towards God
  • He gives us earnestness in seeking God 
  • He gives us delight in God as our Father and boldness to approach his throne of grace
  • He keeps us focused on Christ as the sole means of approaching God 
So, if you want a diagnostic tool for your prayer life, try asking these questions: 
  • Am I relying on the Spirit to incline my heart to God?
  • Am I trusting in the Spirit to make me earnest in prayer? 
  • Am I approaching God's gracious throne with the free and delightful boldness of an accepted child? 
  • Am I trusting in Christ alone to give me access to God? 



John Owen's Ten Observations about the Legal Nature of Justification


Since I'm preaching through Romans, I recently decided to bite the bullet and plow through John Owen's treatise on justification in volume 5 of his Works (Full Title: The Doctrine of Justification by Faith Through the Imputation of the Righteousness of Christ; Explained, Confirmed and Vindicated.) It is well worth the work. 

Here is a series of ten observations Owen makes about the legal (his word is "forensic") nature of justification as taught in Scripture. This comes from chapter 4 of his book (Works, Vol. 5, pp. 135-136). The headings are mine, but based on Owen, while the numbering, sentences in italics, and Scriptural references are his. (And I have updated the language and have slightly reworded in a few places to make it more readable.)


1. Judgment


A judgment is supposed in justification, concerning which the psalmist prays that it may not proceed on terms of the law.


Psalm 143:2


2. The Judge


The judge is God himself.


Isaiah 50:7-8; Romans 8:33


3. The Tribunal


The tribunal on which God sits in judgment is the throne of grace.


Hebrews 4:16; Isaiah 30:18


4. A Guilty Person


This is the sinner, who is so guilty of sin as to be exposed to the judgment of God, and whose mouth is stopped by conviction.


Romans 1:32;Romans 3:19


5. The Accusers


Accusers are ready to propose and promote the guilty person; these are the law, the conscience, and Satan.


John 5:45; Romans 2:15; Zechariah 3:1; Revelation 12:10


6. The Charge


The charge is admitted and drawn up in handwriting in the form of the law, and is laid before the tribunal of the Judge, in bar, to the deliverance of the offender.


Colossians 2:14


7. A Plea


A plea is prepared in the gospel for the guilty person; and this is grace, through the blood of Christ, the ransom paid, the atonement made, the eternal righteousness brought in by the surety of the covenant.


Romans 3:23-25; Daniel 9:24; Ephesians 1:7


8. The Defense


The sinner takes himself to God's grace alone, renouncing all other defenses. There is no other plea for a sinner to make before God. He who knows God and himself will not trust any other defense, even if he was certain that all the angels of heaven would plead for him.


Psalm 130:2-3; Psalm 143:2; Job 9:2-3; Job 42:5-7; Luke 18:13; Romans 3:24-25; Romans 5:11, 16-19; ; Romans 8:1-3, 32-33; Isaiah 53:5-6; Hebrews 9:13-15; Hebrews 10:1-13; 1 Peter 2:24; 1 John 1:7


9. The Advocate


To make this plea effective, we have an Advocate with the Father, and he pleads his own propitiation for us.


1 John 2:1-2


10. The Sentence


The sentence given is not guilty, as the sinner is absolved from all blame, on account of the ransom, blood, sacrifice, and righteousness of Christ. He is also accepted into God's favor as one fully approved by God.


Job 33:24; Psalm 32:1-2; Romans 3:23-25; Romans 8:1, 33-34; 2 Corinthians 5:21; Galatians 3:13-14


Conclusion

If we seriously considered how all these things concur and are required for the justification of every person who is ever saved, we wouldn't have such slight thoughts of sin and the way of deliverance from sin as we seem to have.

Trinitarian Spirituality: John Owen and the Doctrine of God in Western Devotion by Brian K. Kay (Book Review)

While Evangelicals are hungry for authentic spiritual experience, we are, it seems to me, rather confused about how to get it. This hunger is a good thing, evidenced by the many books now available on spiritual formation and the disciplines, not to mention the plethora of devotional guides now on the market. But evidence of the confusion is seen in the actual content of some this material.

On one hand, there is a focus on technique over theology. Richard Foster, whose Celebration of Disciplines in many ways pioneered three decades of literature on renewed interest in the disciplines, is a case in point. In many ways, it’s a helpful book, full of practical guidance on practicing the classic disciplines. But it is so thin on theology that a Unitarian would probably find little with which to disagree in its pages.

On the other hand, even when there is theological reflection in books on spirituality, more appeal is often made to authors in the mystical and contemplative traditions than to their Evangelical and Reformed counterparts. (And this isn’t a new trend. A. W. Tozer’s Pursuit of God, now almost fifty-five years old, freely quotes Thomas a’Kempis, Nicolas of Cusa and the anonymous The Cloud of Unknowing.) Though I have no hard evidence for it, my suspicion is that the effect of our confused attempts to meet this hunger is something like trying to satisfy a voracious physical appetite by gorging on cotton candy – it may taste good at first, but it lacks the nourishing value of a well-balanced meal.

A partial course correction may lie in an under-noticed theological monograph on the infamously difficult-to-read Puritan theologian John Owen – Brian Kay’s Trinitarian Spirituality: John Owen and the Doctrine of God in Western Devotion (Wipf & Stock, 2008). The stated purpose of Kay’s book is “to answer the question of how the Christian doctrine of God has, and can, make an impact on Christian models of spirituality” (p. 1). Kay believes that since we practice our spiritual lives before the face of God who has rightful claims on our lives, our spirituality should therefore “be subject to external controls of divine revelation” (1). In other words, true spirituality is grounded on right theology.

Kay is particularly concerned to determine how Trinitarian theology should shape spirituality and sees John Owen as an “illustrative test case of what kinds of devotional fruit result when trinitarian doctrine is built right into the groundwork of a system of prayer and meditation” (2). Kay presents two criteria for evaluating various models of trinitarian spirituality.
  1. “A good model should draw explicitly (and substantially) from the classic trinitarian doctrine of the ancient formulations”;
  2. “The model [should] make use of the historia salutis [history of salvation] as the lens through which the believer gazes upon and responds to such a trinitarian God.” (4)

Kay’s book is a thoughtful and well-informed exploration of both theology and spirituality that situates John Owen’s trinitarian spirituality in its historical context of post-medieval and post-reformation spirituality, while contrasting and comparing Owen with a broad swath of conversation partners, from Bernard of Clairvaux and Thomas a’Kempis to James Torrance, Karl Rahner, and Karl Barth.

Five Gains from This Book

I’ve read few books in recent years that have yielded more spiritual profit and pleasure than Trinitarian Spirituality. I hope this review will help direct the attention of pastors (and scholars) to this important contribution. Let me suggest five gains to be had from a careful reading.

1. The first gain is an increase in historical consciousness about the different streams of thought in Western devotion and their relationship to Puritan spirituality in general and John Owen in particular.  

Too many pastors lack broad, first-hand familiarity with the people we quote so often in sermons – Meister Eckhart, Julian of Norwich, Thomas a’Kempis, Bernard of Clairvaux, Lewis Bayly, et cetera. Like the popular Evangelical books we read, we sometimes quote these writers without paying much attention to the fuller context of their teaching. And, of course, we can’t (unfortunately!) read everything. Books like  Trinitarian Spirituality, while selective in focus, can go a long ways in helping us better understand some of the distinctives of these different writers and the larger movements of which they were part, as well as give us some guidance for further reading.

2. The second benefit of this book is a deeper understanding of John Owen’s unique contributions to Trinitarian spirituality. 

This is the real focus of the book, of course, and Kay doesn’t disappoint the reader in providing fresh and insightful analysis of Owen’s work. Kay demonstrates that “Owen represents the closest pastoral appropriation of the theological trinitarianism of the Reformed scholastics,” but with emphases that are “somewhat unique when compared with other famous devotional writings of the period” (54). And, by highlighting the devotional warmth of Owen’s writings, Brian Kay also helps correct the mistaken notion, postulated by Alan Clifford and R. T. Kendall, that Owen “helped to ruin Protestant devotion by infusing it with a cold predestinarianism built upon deadening Aristotelian logic” (2).

3. A somewhat incidental gain could be in how this book furthers the discussion about the role of faith in sanctification. 

In light of the recent exchange between DeYoung and Tchividjian, I found Kay’s unpacking of Owen very helpful. Kay shows how Owen’s Federal theology and Trinitarian spirituality enabled him to avoid legalistic and moralistic directives for sanctification. Owen, of course, is best known today for his practical treatments on indwelling sin, temptation, and mortification. Holiness was clearly a high priority for Owen and he didn’t shun detailed and practical guidance on how to deal with sin and pursue holiness. In some ways, Owen is the premier Reformed theologian when it comes to sanctification.

Kay contends that “there is probably no better lens through which to observe Owen’s trinitarian view of communion [with God] than his teaching on sanctification” (157). After demonstrating that Owen’s system of spirituality is “born out of a doctrine of the Trinity that recognizes historically initiated and fulfilled covenant obligations between the members of the Godhead,” Kay infers that “the great advantage is that sanctification is prevented from functionally becoming either legalistic of human-centered, since human moral energy is itself rooted in a reward to the Son from the Father…To root sanctification’s power in so steady and determined an exchange between the Father and the Son is even more potent than merely saying that sanctification is somehow generally ‘by grace’” (158). Here, I think, are fruitful fields ripe for harvest.

4. Related to this is a fourth gain, as Kay explicitly traces out the “meditative technique” in Owen’s spirituality.  

He does this a few places (e.g. pp. 68-71, 89-91, 129-134, and 156-160). Most of chapter five is devoted to a detailed analysis of Owen’s 1657 masterpiece, Communion with the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, Each Person Distinctly in Love, Grace and Consolidation. At its heart, Owen’s method calls for deep reflection on the grace and love of God. “If there is a ‘spiritual discipline’ to be drawn from Owen’s Federalism [covenant theology], this is it – to work hard to convince oneself of the Father’s determined love” (130).

But the Father’s love is expressed in the giving of the Son and the sending of the Spirit. “Because of its roots in the Trinity’s own ministrations, this is a way to practice sanctification that proves much more worship- and grace-centered than some kind of an endeavor to merely ‘imitate Christ”… This is a meditative technique to be sure, but one that has the believer glued to the divine drama for the basis of her consolation and moral energy” (160). Because Owen’s devotional method is rooted in the doctrine of the Trinity, it is also radically gospel-centered.

5. Finally, Kay’s exposition of Owen demonstrates the importance of the drama of redemption for a rich devotional life.

In contrast to both (a) the esoteric devotion of mystical spiritualities, which so easily veer into “platonic, hyper-spirituality” in their focus on immediacy and transcendence to the neglect of God’s redemptive acts in history, and (b) the “maudlin and short-lived” emotions manufactured through “revivalistic spiritualities,” which tend to rely on “sentimental music” and “forceful oratory” (198) in their attempts to produce an affective response to God, this book unpacks a biblical and attractive alternative for stirring the affections of the heart. Kay, using Owen, shows us that (in Dorothy Sayers’ words) “the dogma…is the drama” (197).

By giving sustained attention to the distinctive redemptive acts of our Triune God, our hearts are made to burn within us with the fires of love and devotion to God in a deeper way than mere exhortations and flat explanations can produce. As Kay summarizes near the end of his book (195, 197): “Emplotment captures us in a way that static explanations do not, so it should not be a surprise that a God who intends us to worship him has revealed himself in moving history . . . . The story is deep enough to tell us not only who God is, but who we are, what is wrong with us, what the cure is, and even where the Lord of the story is surely taking us in the final act. This is a story that has doctrinal content, yes, but it also has an epic power to strike the heart.”