Originally posted April 4, 2006. As previously announced, I’m amputating the earliest half-or-so of the blog and republishing any part of it that seems worth saving. I doubt if this post actually qualifies as “worth saving,” but you know how poets are — imposing all manner of atrocious verse on whomever will listen. This isn’t actually the first song I’ve written, or even the first of this kind. It’s just the first I’ve inflicted on the public. It doesn’t have a title. I’m sure you can think of something to call it. Sing to the tune of Hooked on a Feeling. Pretend you’re David Hasselhoff. Words that are so simple Don’t require no thought Stir up my emotions With pathos fraught       Yeah, I sing them       Over many times       All I ask is       That the verses rhyme    I-I, I’m hooked on a feeling    I’m high on believing    That this is worshipping The second verse is kind of Like the other one Mindless repetition Can be pretty fun I just love this feeling Flooding over me Yeah, it’s warm and fuzzy It’s kind of dreamy       When I stand here       Hands up in the air       With my eyes closed       I ain’t got a care    I-I, I’m hooked on a feeling    I’m high on believing    That this is worshipping       When I stand here       Hands up in the air       With my eyes closed       I ain’t got a care    I-I, I’m hooked on a feeling    I’m high on believing    That this is worshipping    I-I, I’m hooked on a feeling    I’m high on believing    That this is worshipping    I’m hooked on a feeling    I’m hooked on a feeling    I’m hooked on a feeling* * Repeat until you just can’t stand it anymore.

The following excerpt from Evangelicalism Divided is a good warning to those who abandon scriptural inerrancy and confidence in the actual words of Scripture. It should also be an encouragement to those ministers who remain faithful.    The ministry of J. C. Ryle, first Bishop of Liverpool (1880–1900), was devoted to teaching what Scripture says, and the result has been the abiding faithfulness and relevance of his writings. By 1897, and estimated twelve million copies of Ryle’s tracts and booklets had been sold and his writings continue to be read world wide-today. Compare this with the work of his son, Herbert Edward Ryle, Hulsean Professor of Divinity at Cambridge and ultimately Dean of Westminster. Herbert Ryle, in contrast with his Father, believed that verbal inspiration was ‘irretrievably shattered’. He probably agreed with his biographer that the tendency of the Evangelical Revival was towards ‘bibliolatery’. From the year 1916, Herbert Ryle was at work on a Commentary on the Minor Prophets and much of the work was done by the time of his death in 1924. Yet it was never published. A professor of theology, asked to evaluate it, considered the manuscript, ‘the work of a tired man’. It was probably already out of date. Today no one reads Dean Ryle of Westminister. —Iain Murray, Evangelicalism Divided (Banner of Truth, 2000), 205. The statement above concerning Herbert Ryle’s Commentary on the Minor Prophets — “It was probably already out of date” — deserves attention, as it exposes the dilemma of liberal scholarship. That dilemma is that, in order to be relevant, one must be on the cutting edge of current scholarship. In plain terms, that means the cutting edge of what liberal scholars are saying right now. Keep up, or be relegated to the dustbin of yesterday’s fads. The scholar who only seeks to be faithful to God’s Word has no such worries. Everything that really matters was written two thousand or more years ago. Everything since then only builds on that foundation. There is no pressure to be novel, only the responsibility to guard and accurately teach the ancient truths of God (1 Timothy 6:20; 2 Timothy 2:15).

I have a bit of Papism on the brain lately; you may have to bear with me. Last week I commented on the so-called explanation for the Roman doctrine of the perpetual virginity of Mary found in The Catholic Study Bible (Mark 6:3). This is a de fide doctrine, that is, “of the faith.” These are essential doctrines, denial of which is heresy. Also held de fide is the doctrine of the immaculate conception: On the 8th December, 1854, Pope Pius IX, in the Bull “Ineffabilis” promulgated the following doctrine as revealed by God, and therefore to be believed firmly and constantly by all the faithful: “The Most Holy Virgin Mary was, in the first moment of her conception, by a unique gift of grace and privilege of Almighty God, in view of the merits of Jesus Christ, the redeemer of mankind, preserved free from all stain of original sin.” —Ludwig Ott, Fundamentals of Catholic Dogma (The Mercier Press, 1960), 199. According to Roman dogma, Mary was born, and remained, without sin. Mary: sinless, and perpetually virgin. There is a conflict in there that ought to be obvious. Can you see it? If not, don’t feel too badly. It only occurred to me as I listened to John MacArthur Explaining the Heresy of Catholicism. The following verses from 1 Corinthians 7 should clear it up for you: 3 The husband must fulfill his duty to his wife, and likewise also the wife to her husband. 4 The wife does not have authority over her own body, but the husband does; and likewise also the husband does not have authority over his own body, but the wife does. 5 Stop depriving one another, except by agreement for a time, so that you may devote yourselves to prayer, and come together again so that Satan will not tempt you because of your lack of self-control. If Mary had remained a virgin, she would have sinned. That she would have sinned gives me no problem. I certainly believe that she, like every other descendant of Adam, was conceived in sin and brought forth in iniquity (Psalm 51:5), and lived, like all of us, in constant need of forgiveness. I could even buy her perpetual virginity, if it was not so plainly false and the Roman apologies so absurd. What is impossible to reconcile is the proposition that she both was sinless and lived a life that was fundamentally sinful. As I like to say, you do the math.

I was glad when they said to me, “Let us go to the house of the Lord.” Recovered from the Tomb Mather Byles (1706–1788) To Thee, my Lord, I lift the song, Awake, my tuneful powers; In constant praise my grateful tongue Shall fill my following hours. Guilty, condemned, undone I stood; I bid my God depart. He took my sins, and paid His blood, And turned this wandering heart. Death, the grim tyrant, seized my frame, Vile, loathsome, accursed; His breath renews the vital flame, And glories change the dust. Now, Savior, shall Thy praise commence; My soul by Thee brought home, And every member, every sense, Recovered from the tomb. To Thee my reason I submit, My love, my memory, Lord, My eyes to read, my hands to write, My lips to preach Thy Word. —Worthy Is the Lamb (Soli Deo Gloria, 2004). John 13:6–15 So He came to Simon Peter. He said to Him, “Lord, do You wash my feet?” 7 Jesus answered and said to him, “What I do you do not realize now, but you will understand hereafter.” 8 Peter said to Him, “Never shall You wash my feet!” Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no part with Me.” 9 Simon Peter said to Him, “Lord, then wash not only my feet, but also my hands and my head.” 10 Jesus said to him, “He who has bathed needs only to wash his feet, but is completely clean; and you are clean, but not all of you.” 11 For He knew the one who was betraying Him; for this reason He said, “Not all of you are clean.”    12 So when He had washed their feet, and taken His garments and reclined at the table again, He said to them, “Do you know what I have done to you? 13 You call Me Teacher and Lord; and you are right, for so I am. 14 If I then, the Lord and the Teacher, washed your feet, you also ought to wash one another’s feet. 15 For I gave you an example that you also should do as I did to you. The verses we have now read conclude the story of our Lord’s washing the feet of His disciples, the night before He was crucified. It is a story full of touching interest, which for some wise reason no Evangelist records except St. John. The wonderful condescension of Christ, in doing such a menial action, can hardly fail to strike any reader. The mere fact that the Master should wash the feet of the servants might well fill us with surprise. But the circumstances and sayings which arose out of the action are just as interesting as the action itself. Let us see what they were.    We should notice, firstly, the hasty ignorance of the Apostle Peter. One moment we find him refusing to allow his Master to do such a servile work as He is about to do:—“Dost thou wash my feet?” “Thou shalt never wash my feet.” Another moment we find him rushing with characteristic impetuosity into the other extreme:—“Lord, wash not my feet only, but my hands and my head.” But throughout the transaction we find him unable to take in the real meaning of what his eyes behold. He sees, but he does not understand.    Let us learn from Peter’s conduct that a man may have plenty of faith and love, and yet be sadly destitute of clear knowledge. We must not set down men as graceless and godless because they are dull, and stupid, and blundering in their religion. The heart may often be quite right when the head is quite wrong. We must make allowances for the corruption of the understanding, as well as of the will. We must not be surprised to find that the brains as well as the affections of Adam’s children have been hurt by the fall. It is a humbling lesson, and one seldom fully learned except by long experience. But the longer we live the more true shall we find it, that a believer, like Peter, may make many mistakes and lack understanding, and yet, like Peter, have a heart right before God, and get to heaven at last.    Even at our best estate we shall find that many of Christ’s dealings with us are hard to understand in this life. The “why” and “wherefore” of many a providence will often puzzle and perplex us quite as much as the washing puzzled Peter. The wisdom, and fitness, and necessity of many a thing will often be hidden from our eyes. But at times like these we must remember the Master’s words, and fall back upon them:—“What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.” There came days, long after Christ had left the world, when Peter saw the full meaning of all that happened on the memorable night before the crucifixion. Even so there will be a day when every dark page in our life’s history will be explained, and when, as we stand with Christ in glory, we shall know all. We should notice, secondly, in this passage, the plain practical lesson which lies upon its surface. That lesson is read out to us by our Lord. He says, “I have given you an example, that ye should do as I have done to you.”    Humility is evidently one part of the lesson. If the only-begotten Son of God, the King of kings, did not think it beneath Him to do the humblest work of a servant, there is nothing which His disciples should think themselves too great or too good to do. No sin is so offensive to God, and so injurious to the soul as pride. No grace is so commended, both by precept and example, as humility. “Be clothed with humility.” “He that humbleth himself shall be exalted.”—“Let this mind be in you, which was also in Christ Jesus; who, being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God: but made Himself of no reputation, and took upon Him the form of a servant, and was made in the likeness of men: and being found in fashion as a man, He humbled Himself.” (1 Pet. v. 5; Luke xviii 14; Phil. ii. 5–8.) Well would it be for the Church if this very simple truth was more remembered, and real humility was not so sadly rare. Perhaps there is no sight so displeasing in God’s eyes as a self-conceited, self-satisfied, self-contented, stuck-up professor of religion. Alas, it is a sight only too common! Yet the words which St. John here records have never been repealed. They will be a swift witness against many at the last day, except they repent.    Love is manifestly the other part of the great practical lesson. Our Lord would have us love others so much that we should delight to do anything which can promote their happiness. We ought to rejoice in doing kindnesses, even in little things. We ought to count it a pleasure to lessen sorrow and multiply joy, even when it costs us some self-sacrifice and self-denial. We ought to love every child of Adam so well, that if in the least trifle we can do anything to make him more happy and comfortable, we should be glad to do it. This was the mind of the Master, and this the ruling principle of His conduct upon earth. There are but few who walk in His steps, it may be feared; but these few are men and women after His own heart.    The lesson before us may seem a very simple one; but its importance can never be overrated. Humility and love are precisely the graces which the men of the world can understand, if they do not comprehend doctrines. They are graces about which there is no mystery, and they are within reach of all Christians. The poorest and most ignorant Christian can every day find occasion for practicing love and humility. Then if we would do good to the world, and make our calling and election sure, let no man forget our Lord’s example in this passage. Like Him, let us be humble and loving towards all.    We should notice, lastly, in this passage, the deep spiritual lessons which lie beneath its surface. They are three in number, and lie at the very root of religion, though we can only touch them briefly.    For one thing, we learn that all need to be washed by Christ. “If I wash thee not, thou hast no part in Me.” No man or woman can be saved unless his sins are washed away in Christ’s precious blood. Nothing else can make us clean or acceptable before God. We must be “washed, sanctified, and justified, in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God.” (1 Cor. vi. 11.) Christ must wash us, if we are ever to sit down with saints in glory. Then let us take heed that we apply to Him by faith, wash and become clean. They only are washed who believe.    For another thing, we learn that even those who are cleansed and forgiven need a daily application to the blood of Christ for daily pardon. We cannot pass through this evil world without defilement. There is not a day in our lives but we fail and come short in many things, and need fresh supplies of mercy. Even “he that is washed needs to wash his feet,” and to wash them in the same fountain where he found peace of conscience when he first believed. Then let us daily use that fountain without fear. With the blood of Christ we must begin, and with the blood of Christ we must go on.    Finally, we learn that even those who kept company with Christ, and were baptized with water as His disciples, were “not all” washed from their sin. These words are very solemn,—“Ye are clean: but not all.” Then let us take heed to ourselves, and beware of false profession. If even Christ’s own disciples are not all cleansed and justified, we have reason to be on our guard. Baptism and Churchmanship are no proof that we are right in the sight of God. —J. C. Ryle, Expository Thoughts on the Gospels (Baker Books, 2007). Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.

I love this hymn. Sadly, I don’t think I’ve had occasion to sing it in the last twenty years. If you’ve got anything to do with the music at your church, sing it for me! 19 My God! How Wonderful Thou Art My God, how wonderful Thou art,    Thy majesty, how bright! How beautiful Thy mercy seat    In depths of burning light! How dread are Thine eternal years,    O everlasting Lord, By prostrate spirits day and night    Incessantly adored! How wonderful, how beautiful,    The sight of Thee must be, Thine endless wisdom, boundless pow’r,    And awful purity! O how I fear Thee, living God!    With deepest tend’rest fears, And worship Thee with trembling hope,    And penitential tears! Yet, I may love Thee, too, O Lord!    Almighty as Thou art, For Thou hast stooped to ask of me    The love of my poor heart. No earthly father loves like Thee,    No mother, e’er so mild, Bears and forbears as Thou hast done    With me, Thy sinful child. My God, how wonderful Thou art,    Thou everlasting Friend! On Thee I stay my trusting heart,    Till faith in vision end. The first two of the performances below are Dundee, the tune found in the Concordia. The final performance, by New Zealand chamber choir Musica Sacra, is Westminster. Organ Concordia Chapel Choir Musica Sacra

Iain Murray offers one of the reasons he believes evangelicals of the twentieth century have not followed in the footsteps of the Whitefields and Wesleys two centuries prior: There is a prominent feature in the evangelical history of the eighteenth century which may explain why many evangelicals in Britain and the United States have taken a different course in these last fifty years. As we have seen, evangelical leadership today has been much concerned with a matter about which their predecessors took a very different view, that is, the approval and support of non-evangelical clergy and denominational leaders. Wesley and Whitefield lost any possibility of gaining the good opinion of their peers at the very outset of their work. But far from moderating themselves in an attempt to win it back, they regarded the very idea as a temptation to be resisted. In the midst of a worldly church they saw the bearing of reproach as a necessary part of being a Christian. ‘In our days,’ said Whitefield, ‘to be a true Christian, is really to become a scandal.’    The church leaders of the eighteenth century did their utmost to hinder other clergy from turning evangelical and one of the principal threats was the certain loss of reputation and preferment. Wesley said the ‘great pains were taken’ to keep the number willing to take a bold stand few in number. Anyone who did so ‘could give up at once all thought of preferment either in Church or State; nay, all hope of even a Fellowship, or a poor scholarship, in either University’.    For Wesley and Whitefield resistance to such threats was the duty of all who did not live for the approval of man. To clergy who failed to make such a stand a Scripture commands, Wesley said: ‘You dare not: because you have respect of persons. You fear the faces of men. You cannot; because you have not overcome the world. You are not above the desire of earthly things. And it is impossible . . . till you desire nothing more than God.’ —Iain Murray, Evangelicalism Divided (Banner of Truth, 2000), 169–170.