Dominion, Donuts, and the Digital Age

When I put a new vegetable in front of my four-year-old, his eyes narrow, his brow furrows, he leans slowly closer to his plate, and, before tasting it, he predictably says, “I don’t like this.” This neophobia—the fear of the new—seems contextually inborn.

When I tell my four-year-old, “We are going to watch a new movie,” his eyes widen, his arms raise, a spontaneous interpretive dance ensues, and, after I tell him what the movie is, before he’s seen it, he predictably says, “I like this movie.” Neophilia—the love of the new—seems contextually inborn.

My hunch is that in the first half of your life, there is a natural neophilia for technology, and in the second half of your life, there is a learned neophobia for technology. Is that neophilia youthful folly or openness, a sense of possibility, and belief in the ingenuity of the imago dei? Is that neophobia sober wisdom or cynicism, the accumulation of disappointment from the over-promise-under-deliver marketing gurus?

When we turn to the Scriptures, we see neither neophobia nor neophilia endorsed. Rather, within the first few chapters of Genesis, we see a wise formula for how we ought to engage technology as Christians and parents: open, but cautious.

Skirts for Shame

In Genesis 3, after breaking the one commandment that God had given them, Adam and Eve are in crisis-management mode. In a sense, they default back to their good and proper design: they make something.

God had previously assigned them the task of unfolding the latent goodness of creation. The exact words in Genesis 1:27 are “subdue” and “dominion,” which, to the Hebrew mind, conjure up images of kneading bread, plowing fields, or crushing grapes: it is creative force.

Adam and Eve, feeling ashamed, then use the ability God gave them and “sewed fig leaves together and made themselves loincloths” and hid from God (Genesis 3:7-8). They are doing the work God had called them initially to do, but in a misdirected way.

Both the process of sewing and the result of sewing are good technologies; hiding from God is a disordered use of technology. Theologian Al Wolters gives us the categories of Structure and Direction to make sense of this recurring reality. The structures or processes of creation remain good—Adam and Eve can still do the work of subduing and dominion—but the direction or goals can be disordered and contrary to God’s desires.

Rather than creating in such a way that fosters a relationship with God, they use what they make to create distance between themselves and their Maker.

Farming for Fratricide

In Genesis 4, Cain kills Abel. How? Genesis doesn’t say, but the non-canonical book of Jasher says that he used “the iron part of his plowing instrument.” This is likely what Joel is referring to when he says, “beat your plowshares into swords.”

Humanity had developed the good technology of mining, blacksmithing, and plowing. They were walking in faithfulness to the command to “have dominion over all the earth” (Genesis 1:26) and fulfilling their call to “work the ground” (Genesis 2:5).

Yet, while this tech was originally developed for good purposes, the human heart found a way to twist it and use it for violence. Instead of only getting more efficient at farming, humanity also got more efficient at bludgeoning; the original design of the plowshare to support and extend human life is inverted and becomes a means of ending human life.

Dominion for Debauchery

In Genesis 9, Noah gets off the ark and gets busy living into the responsibility of mankind to work the ground. He becomes a “man of the soil” and “plants a vineyard” (Genesis 9:20). This is good. Wine, winepresses, wineglasses, wine barrels, and viticulture are all technology—the creatures are creating as was designed.

Turning the field into a vineyard doesn’t end well, though. The good structures are used for disordered ends. Noah drinks to the point of being drunk and then embarrasses himself and his family in such a way that there are generational consequences (Genesis 9:21-29).

The wine that was meant to “gladden the heart of man” (Psalm 104:15) instead brings sorrow, shame, and servitude. Noah was too open and not cautious enough to the thrills of technology.

Bricks for Babel

In Genesis 11, humanity uncovers new technology that can be used in construction: baked bricks and bitumen. Even after the fall, humans continue to walk in the image of the creator God and can’t-stop-won’t-stop innovating and developing.

Yet, instead of leaning into the image of God and letting their creativity be a conduit of fame and reverence for the Almighty Creator, they use it as a chance to “make a name” for themselves. Rather than letting this new technology propel them outward and fill the earth with the imago dei, they decide to build a tower “lest we be dispersed across the face of the earth” (Genesis 11:4); the tech produces glory-stealing and sloth.

The result of the story gives the story its name: Babel. The civilization organized around a shared affinity for self-glory and resistance to the LORD’s commission ends up unable to communicate within itself; the first echo chambers are established, and the once-unified community breaks into tribes.

Craftsmanship for Crucifixion

In the New Testament, the tree, the great symbol of life with God (cf. Psalm 1), becomes the instrument of torturous death: the wooden cross, a piece of technology designed to embarrass, torture, and kill. The inventors have become “inventors of evil” (Romans 1:30).

Consider the variety of technological means employed in the murder of the Son of God. He is flogged using a special whip made of leather, bone, and lead. He is crowned and clothed in thorns and wool twisted together, woven, and dyed. Iron was mined and formed into hammers and nails for crucifixion. Then, a sign was commissioned to shame him, a sponge harvested and put in his face to extend his suffering, and a spear was used to verify the death.

The carpenter is killed by a work of carpentry. The Creator is murdered creatively by His creation’s creations.

Regulate, Don’t Abdicate

People do not plan on becoming alcoholics, yet many find themselves there. They were too open and not cautious enough. The same is true for technology; our neophilia often gets the best of us.

The temptations of technology are the same that the serpent dangled in Eden: you can be like God. Delusions of omnipotence, omnipresence, and omniscience pour gasoline on our bullish neophilia.

As the serpent has dominion over Adam and Eve in the garden, so also our technology tends to have dominion over us; most adults I know, myself included, carry some level of shame regarding how they feel they are on their phones too much. The Artificial Intelligence revolution is not going to slow down our algorithmic overlords.

I think we need to relate to our technology like we relate to donuts. If I let my four-year-old eat as many donuts as he wants, he’ll get sick, be grouchy, and, at a certain point, his development will be impaired; refined sugars are addictive by nature. Even for adults, too many donuts too often could inflame our gut, harm our sleep, and contribute to premature death in a dozen ways. At the same time, it’s hard to beat a donut with your son on a Saturday morning.

I think we need to parent our kids around technology like we parent them around donuts. The mental health epidemic teens face is inseparable from the ubiquity of screen time, unfiltered internet access, and premature consumption of addictive and adult content. At the same time, it’s hard to beat FaceTiming your aunt who lives on another continent.

Too often, as adults, we trust Big Tech to act in our best interests, presuming that they’d choose to limit their profits in the name of “do no harm.” That is a poor assumption, and it amounts to abdication. Not engaging in self-harming behavior is our responsibility.

Likewise, as parents, we are tempted to hand our children iPads and iPhones and let the algorithm work its magic, hoping we can enjoy uninterrupted evenings or a Saturday on the couch. This is like handing a four-year-old a box of donuts and saying, “Stop eating whenever you want.” Not only is it selfish, at a certain point it is neglect and abdication.

We must be regulators and not abdicators. Set the limits, hold the lines, and put our creations in their rightful places. Adam and Eve weren’t able to say, “Get behind me Satan,” but Jesus was. The technological society won’t place proper limits on itself; one inch at a time, the people of God must walk in authority over our devices specifically and our technology generally.

We already understand that other technologies need to be purposefully limited. Nobody, Christian and non-Christian alike, thinks it’s wise to eat donuts all day every day or drink alcohol all day every day (yes, donuts and alcohol are both technically technology); we’d label that as “having a problem.” Do we apply that same standard to our digital technologies?

No—like many in our society, unfortunately, cannot imagine what having fun looks like without alcohol, the next generation increasingly cannot imagine what life might look like with proper boundaries on digital tech. Programs like AA exist for those who need help walking in dominion over alcohol, and programs like Bark, Screen Time, and Covenant Eyes exist for those who need help walking in dominion over their tech.

Alcoholism is a specific type of technological addiction, and society quickly needs to come to grips with another type of technological addiction that will prove to be equally self-destructive.

Open but cautious isn’t merely wisdom, it’s congruent with the story of reality given to us by God in the Scriptures.



Episode 273: Grab Bag!

It’s another installment of the Grab Bag feature here at the FTC Pod. Jared and Ross each come with unique questions for the other. Tune in and find out what surprise topics they discussed! Also, during the month of July you can enter to win the entire Puritan Paperback series from Midwestern Seminary, along with daily faculty book giveaways on social media. Enter to win at mbts.edu/mbtsbooks



Three Ingredients for Faithful Preaching

Faithful preaching has three primary ingredients. Creativity and homiletical polish are helpful, but the key ingredients of faithful preaching are preset and established by God. The three ingredients touch on who is qualified to preach, why one should preach, and what one should preach.

Who May Preach?

Though the gospel call is promiscuous, the call to preach is not. In fact, preachers are a conscripted force, mustered by God’s Spirit into service for the church.

As Spurgeon observed, the call to preach begins with an intense, internal, and all-absorbing desire for ministry work.[1] In addition to this internal aspiration, the Apostle Paul set forth sterling character and the ability to teach God’s Word as pastoral non-negotiables (I Tim 3:1–7; Titus 1:5–9).

From man’s perspective most anyone can enter ministry by donning clerical garb, speaking in religious platitudes, and receiving church-based compensation. However, from God’s perspective only those called by his Spirit, qualified by his Scriptures, and affirmed by his local church can preach faithfully.

Why Do We Preach?

 Those called to preach should do just that—preach. Preaching is God’s divinely ordained means of communicating his Word, nourishing his church, and redeeming his people. Other pastoral activities may complement preaching, but nothing should displace it.

God only had one son, and he made him a preacher. Scripture tells us “Jesus came preaching” (Mark 1:14) and then he sent his disciples out to preach. From the prophets of old, to Pentecost, to the end of the age, preaching is God’s appointed means of reconciling sinners to himself.

As Spurgeon warned, “I do not look for any other means of converting men beyond the simple preaching of the gospel and the opening of men’s ears to hear it. The moment the church of God shall despise the pulpit, God will despise her. It has been through the ministry that the Lord has always been pleased to revive and bless his churches.”[2]

Whether in the first century or the twenty-first century, man will find signs attractive and wisdom appealing, but God has always been well-pleased through the foolishness of preaching to save those who believe.

We preach because God ordained it.  We dare not do anything else.

What Do We Preach?

Faithful preaching requires sermons be preached from God’s Word. Both prescriptively and descriptively, Scripture is clear—the preacher’s task is to preach God’s Word. We do not look to the news cycle, social media, or pop culture for sermon fodder. We look to the Scriptures. Illustrations, analogies, and applications can be helpful, but they must illuminate and underscore the text, not distract from it.

Biblical exposition—sermons that explain the text, place it with in its biblical context, and apply it to God’s people—is preferable because God has predetermined not only what, but also how, we preach.

There is a measure of latitude here. Whether the expository sermon is 30 minutes or 60 minutes, the sermon series counted in weeks or years, we can find joy when God’s Word is honored, explained, and authoritatively preached.

“The Bible says” remains the most beautiful refrain in the church house. Explaining and applying the Bible to God’s people remains the most noble—and urgent—ministerial task, which is why Paul’s dying words to Timothy bind and instruct preachers in every generation—preach the Word.

Conclusion

Martyn Lloyd-Jones famously observed preaching is “the highest, the greatest, and the most glorious calling to which anyone can ever be called.”[3] It is too high and too glorious a calling for just anyone to preach just anything for just any reason in just any way. Preaching is to be done by a man, called of God, who is compelled to herald the Bible with full conviction and faithful interpretation.

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[1] See C. H. Spurgeon, “The Call to Ministry,” in Lectures to My Students (repr.; Peabody, MA: Hendrickson, 2014), 23–42.

[2] C. H. Spurgeon, Autobiography, Volume 1: The Early Years (London: Banner of Truth, 1962), v.

[3] Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Preaching and Preachers (Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1972), 9.

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at JasonKAllen.com. To learn more from Dr. Allen and other seasoned pastors on faithfulness in ministry, join us on September 23-24 for the 2024 For the Church National Conference, “Faithful: Serving the Most Beautiful People on Earth.”



Episode 272: Conferences

Evangelicals love conferences. Well, most of them do anyway. Is the church’s interest in conferences changing? On this week’s episode of the podcast, Jared and Ross discuss the recent phenomenon of the mega-conference, what they like and don’t like about conferences, whether evangelicals’ love affair with conferences has changed, the advantages of smaller conferences, and even some thoughts on speaking at and hosting/organizing conferences. Also, during the month of July you can enter to win the entire Puritan Paperback series from Midwestern Seminary, along with daily faculty book giveaways on social media. Enter to win at mbts.edu/mbtsbooks



Prayer, A Sweet Communion

The Beginning of Prayer

In the beginning, God breathed His breath into humanity. According to both Moses and Paul, this breath (or Spirit) caused Adam and Eve to be living souls (see Gen 1:7; 1 Cor 15:45).

What does it mean to be a living soul? At the very least, it means that we were created with a unique spiritual capacity to commune with God. But why would God give us this capacity?

The Bible’s answer is simple yet profound: God desires to dwell with humanity. This becomes evident in many places: the Garden of Eden (Gen 1-2); the tabernacle of Israel (Ex 40); the incarnation of Christ (Mt 1; Lk 1; John 1); the New Jerusalem (Rev 21-22); and more. Indeed, the entire biblical story culminates in the fulfillment of God’s desire: “Behold, the dwelling place of God is with man. He will dwell with them, and they will be his people, and God himself will be with them as their God” (Rev 21:3).

Thus, prayer can be described as an offshoot or implication of God’s desire to dwell with us. It is a God-given means by which we commune with God—through speech and listening and meditative reflection—this side of heaven. Its great and final end, as noted above, is everlasting and unencumbered communion with God.

The Fall of Prayer

How was prayer affected by the Fall of humanity? Did Adam and Eve’s sinful rebellion eradicate the possibility of prayerful communion with God?

According to the biblical story, prayer continues on, even after the Fall. Indeed, God speaks to Adam and Eve as they hide from Him, and they speak back (see Gen 3:9-10). And yet, a deep tension is revealed in the conversation, a tension which the New Testament calls “hostility” between God and humanity (Col 1:21).

What did this hostility mean for prayer? Among other things, it meant that prayer had become a means not only to commune with God but also to confess sin, to lament suffering in the world, and to seek deliverance from evil in all its forms.

The Restoration of Prayer

After the Fall, how is prayer restored? According to the New Testament, prayer finds its restoration through the person and work of Christ Jesus. On the cross, Jesus put an end to the dividing hostility between God and His people, declaring once-for-all, “It is finished” (John 19:30). At that very moment, the temple veil was torn in two, and the people of God were welcomed back into the presence of God (see Mk 15:38). Prayerful communion with God has thus been restored.

Of course, our end of the conversation still bears marks of the distorting effects of sin. For this reason, we struggle to pray. Indeed, more often than not, we do not even know what we ought to pray for (see Rom 8:26). And yet, in Christ, our weak and feeble prayers are made holy and lifted up to God. As John the Revelator says, “[The angel] was given much incense to offer with the prayers of all the saints on the golden altar before the throne, and the smoke of the incense, with the prayers of the saints, rose before God” (Rev 8:3-4). You see, God delights to smell the incense of our prayers. Every single one of them.

An Invitation to Prayer

Regarding prayer, C.S. Lewis said, “God has infinite attention to spare for each one of us. He does not have to deal with us in the mass. You are as much alone with Him as if you were the only being He had ever created.”[1] In other words, despite the millions and millions of prayers that are lifted up to God every single hour of every single day, God does not get stressed out. At all.

This means that you and I are invited to approach God through prayer at any moment of any day with any thing. From car trouble to stage-four cancer, the timeless God has more than enough “time” to care for you. In fact, He loves to do so (1 Pet 5:7).

Ultimately, the goal of prayer is a sweet communion with God: the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. Yes, we might begin the praying life with nothing more than petitions and requests, but in the end, we will receive much more than answered prayers. We will receive God Himself.

__________

[1]  C.S. Lewis, Mere Christianity (Touchstone: New York, 1996), pp. 148.



Why Every Church Member Matters

Most people don’t know who you are. In fact, most church members are unknown. They aren’t speaking at conferences, writing books, on a website, or being paid. I’ve been at conferences with thousands and thousands of people and less than a dozen on stage. Most Christians are the people in the pew, not the pulpit. But it’s easy to miss this. Even when we read the Bible, it is easy to think of it as a succession of tales of the important: Abraham, Moses, David, Ruth, Esther, Jesus, the disciples. But where does that leave us? What does God say to the average person in the chair? What does God say to the unknown church member or the unknown pastor for that matter?

One way to consider this is to look at all the names listed in Paul’s letters. Why are they there? Why did these otherwise unnamed people get a mention in the Bible? Why did the Holy Spirit in his infinite wisdom believe that these lists of names were useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting, and training in righteousness? What might God be trying to show us?

1. It takes many people to do God’s work.

Name some famous Christians who are known for their great work. Let’s make it easy; just narrow it down to those named John: John the Baptist, John Chrysostom, John Wycliffe, John Huss, John Calvin, John Knox, John Bunyan, John Owen, John Wesley, Jonathan Edwards, John MacArthur, John Piper.  That’s a lot of famous Johns!

But how many millions of people helped these ministries? There had to be untold amounts of editors, organizers, administrative assistants, people setting up chairs, watching kids, serving meals, cleaning up, managing the money, and so much more. The same is true in our churches. It takes many people to do God’s work.

When we look at Paul’s letters, we see him name around 100 different people. There are deacons, coworkers, ministry partners, friends, and church hosts. God’s work is too big for Paul, too big even for a Bible-writing apostle. There is no way to experience all that God intends for us as his church with only celebrity leaders, senior pastors, and paid staff. It takes many people to do God’s work.

Most of us won’t be the famous ones who speak on the stage or write the epistle, but we should strive to have our name on the list. We should show up, be involved, and be among the many co-laborers that work to build God’s church. We are not owners of our time, abilities, education, experiences, capacity, or gifting. We are stewards. It all belongs to God, and he wants us to use it to serve others in the church. We all have our part to play. God has decided that all of us are important for what he is doing in the church. Your ministry is needed. You are needed.

2. God values your work.

True, it takes many people; but are you just a cog in the machine? If we don’t have the prominent place or position, does what we do really matter? Is our role in the church valuable?

Often we recognize the value of the work being done by the titles given: Majesty, Excellency, Your Honor, Esteemed, Chief, Reverend, Doctor, even Pastor or Director. But what about those who don’t have a title? How does God view their work?

Paul gives many different titles to the normal people in his letters: dear friend, brother, saint, minister, faithful servant, coworker, partner, soldier, dearly loved, etc. These titles help us see the part we play. They help us see how what we do fits into what God is doing. When we do the ministry God has assigned to us, we are doing more than just the task. We are doing more than setting up pipe and drape, printing a bulletin, greeting, changing diapers, running sound, leading a small group, or playing the drums. We are fighting battles, creating family, strengthening relationships, meeting needs, shouldering burdens, fulfilling the mission, and working in the harvest. Ultimately, we are glorifying God by reflecting his character.

You may not have an official title that could be recorded on a resumé, but through Paul’s eyes you see how God feels about the work you do. God sees your contribution. God values your work. Your ministry is valued. You are valued.

3. It takes many unknown people to do God’s work.

Most of us would fail at trying to recall half the names Paul lists. When’s the last time you met a kid named Tryphena or Tryphosa? Or Philogus? Or take another example: who wrote the book of Romans? Most would say Paul, right? But, it was actually Tertius! He was the one who physically wrote down the text (Romans 1:1, 16:22). I know a Tertius. Even he didn’t know his name came from the Bible!

It takes many unknown people to do God’s work. This means it’s okay to be forgotten. We don’t have to leave a legacy. We don’t have to change the world. We don’t have to be remembered. We can serve faithfully and be forgotten.

We know this even with our favorite movies. How many people did it take to make Lord of the Rings? I know the names of the main characters and the director, but I’ve never sat through the credits and watched each name go by. I’m sure it took thousands of people over several years. Likewise, it took thousands of unknown people to build the great cathedrals of the world. It took millions of unnamed soldiers to win the great wars against evil in our world. And it takes millions of unknown volunteers, deacons, staff, and elders across our world every Sunday to love and serve God’s church. It takes countless unknown staff and volunteers for all the ministries serving in prisons, pregnancy centers, orphan care, youth ministries, camps, and every other imaginable good work.

You can play a huge part in history and no one even know it. You can write down the book of Romans and everyone forgets it. You can charge the hill that changes the war and no one knows your name. And you can faithfully serve God week in and week out and never make it on the website. That’s okay. It’s okay that much of our work goes unseen, unnoticed, and unrecognized. Faithfulness is better than fame. It takes many unknown people to do God’s work. Your ministry matters. You matter.

4. God knows each one doing his work.

“…help these women who have contended for the gospel at my side, along with Clement and the rest of my coworkers whose names are in the book of life.” Philippians 4:2–3

Reading this, I imagine a scene where Paul’s letter is being publicly read. You may know the feeling of having your name publicly acknowledged or thanked. It’s a great honor, even in something small. It feels good when we are seen and our name is said. Paul does this for some. The public acknowledgment must have felt good. And, if we were hearing the letter read, perhaps we would be wondering if our name was next. Would all the time we had put into working on that project, or showing up when others were having fun, or serving after hours finally be noticed? Would we be thanked and appreciated? But then after naming two women and Clement, Paul finishes with, “and the rest.” The list stops.

That may be you for your whole life. You name may not even make the list of unknown people. You may be just “the rest.” This may feel disappointing, discouraging, or unfair. We may be jealous, bitter, or unmotivated if our work isn’t seen.

But Paul doesn’t leave it there. It is the rest, “whose names are in the book of life.” That means even though they didn’t get the public accolades, God knows who they are. You may not have statues built of you or museums honoring your life or a biography telling your mighty works for the Lord. Your great-grandchildren may not even know much more about you than a photo in a dusty album. Though history may not remember your name, the one who wrote history does. The church may not see all you do, but the head of the church does. God knows all the overlooked, all the unseen, all the forgotten, all the unrecognized. God knows your name. He wrote your name as belonging to him. Your name is recorded forever in his book. Live for that book. God knows each one doing his work. Your ministry is known. You are known.



Episode 271: Best Books for Pastors

We know pastors love books and talking about books, so on this episode of the FTC Podcast, Jared and Ross share a few books they recommend for the pastor’s shelf. Also, during the month of July you can enter to win the entire Puritan Paperback series from Midwestern Seminary, along with daily faculty book giveaways on social media. Enter to win at mbts.edu/mbtsbooks



Thomas Jefferson, The Baptists, and A Giant Block of Cheese

Despite having a widespread reputation for irreligious beliefs, President Thomas Jefferson was a hero to many Baptists in America because he was arguably the nation’s greatest champion of religious liberty. Baptists wanted to convey how delighted they were with his election as president in 1800. A big block of cheese played a major role in the effort. The cheese was four feet wide and 1,200 pounds, made by the Baptist “Ladies” of Cheshire, Massachusetts. They made it, a Republican newspaper noted, “as a mark of the exalted esteem they had of [Jefferson] as a man of virtue, benevolence, and a real sincere friend to all Christian denominations.” Written on the rind was the Jeffersonian motto, “Rebellion to tyrants is obedience to God.”[1]

The cheese’s escort from Cheshire to Washington was the Baptist preacher John Leland, one of the era’s most influential evangelical leaders and a Jeffersonian zealot. Leland was eleven years younger than Jefferson and a native of Massachusetts. He had experienced conversion and became a Baptist in the early 1770s. Thereafter he began preaching and relocated to Virginia, where he served Baptist churches and the cause of religious liberty. In Virginia he became an ally of James Madison and Jefferson. Madison and Leland reportedly met in 1788, with Leland urging Madison to support a religious liberty amendment to the Constitution. (The original Constitution in 1787 did not include a Bill of Rights.) Leland agreed to back ratification of the Constitution if Madison would promote the amendment in the First Congress. When Leland returned to New England in 1791, he directed his political energies against the established, tax-supported Congregationalist churches of Connecticut and Massachusetts while pastoring in Cheshire.

Critics lambasted the “MAMMOTH CHEESE,” while newspapers punned incessantly about all things mammoth and cheese. This moniker was an allusion to Jefferson’s fascination with mastodon bones recently discovered in New York and his assumption that wooly mammoths still lived in the American interior. One Federalist watched as Jefferson’s supporters paraded with the cheese in a “ludicrous procession, in honor of a cheesen God.” The cheese moved down the Hudson River to New York, then by sea to Baltimore, and finally to Washington, where it arrived at the end of 1801. Jefferson himself had adopted the “mammoth cheese” label when he noted its arrival, saying it was “an ebullition of the passion of republicanism in a state where it has been under heavy persecution.”

We would know less about that religious liberty weekend in Washington were it not for a letter by a hostile Federalist representative, Manasseh Cutler, who disliked both Jefferson and Leland. The congressman reported that Leland delivered a sermon before Jefferson and members of Congress on January 3, 1802. Cutler had reluctantly visited the President’s House on New Year’s Day, where the staff treated members of Congress with “cake and wine” and allowed them to view the mammoth cheese. The Yale-educated Cutler, who was also a Congregationalist minister, thought that the “cheesemonger” Leland’s sermon two days later was a travesty. Leland, a “poor, ignorant, illiterate, clownish preacher,” spoke on Matthew 12:42: “behold, a greater [one] than Solomon is here.” To Cutler, the oration was a “farrago, bawled with stunning voice, horrid tone, frightful grimaces, and extravagant gestures.” No “decent auditory” had ever heard anything like it, Cutler scoffed.

Until the cheese became too maggot-ridden to keep, Jefferson made a viewing of it a standard experience for visitors to his home. He even had a special frame built to hold the cheese together as it aged. But the memory of it reminds us how important religious liberty was to the often-persecuted Baptists of the American founding era.

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[1] This essay is adapted from Thomas S. Kidd, Thomas Jefferson: A Biography of Spirit and Flesh (Yale University Press, 2022).



Episode 270: Baptists on Baptism

It’s an “everything baptism” episode today! Jared and Ross talk about the biblical meaning and mode of baptism, the phenomenon of “spontaneous baptisms,” the connection between baptism and membership and discipleship, what age is the right age to baptize, and even their funny baptism stories. Also, during the month of July you can enter to win the entire Puritan Paperback series from Midwestern Seminary, along with daily faculty book giveaways on social media. Enter to win at mbts.edu/mbtsbooks



Packer’s Dusty Puritan Discovery Still Guides and Helps

Editor’s Note: To celebrate the ministry of good books, Midwestern Seminary is giving away the entire Puritan Paperbacks series to one lucky winner during the month of July. Enter to win today and discover what made J.I. Packer and so many others love the Puritan writers.


During J. I. Packer’s second year of undergraduate studies at Oxford, he was invited to serve as the junior librarian at the Christian Union student organization. Having been converted only a year earlier, Packer was new to the Union but, as he would soon discover, so were a recent donation of books. An octogenarian clergyman had recently concluded that he could no longer make use of his library and thus gave them to the Union who, upon receipt, proceeded to pile them in the basement of their meeting space in North Gate Hall for an unknown future.[1] Thereafter, as is now famously told and retold, Packer discovered, as a nineteen year-old, the works of the Puritan John Owen—and the evangelical world has not been the same since.

At the time of this discovery, Packer would later relate his life “was all over the place” emotionally and thus “God used [Owen] to save my sanity.” More than just sorting out Packer, his literal “recovery” of the Puritans would start a movement that not only would bring great and good revived interest in these evangelical forebears, but also would help provide an anchor to the Word of God during the tumultuous 1960s and 1970s in the United Kingdom and abroad.

From this discovery, Packer would later help recover a more faithful understanding of Puritanism. He summarizes “the Puritanism of history” well in A Grief Sanctified (2002), “It was, rather, a holistic renewal movement within English-speaking Protestantism, which aimed to bring all life—personal, ecclesiastical, political, social, commercial; family life, business life, professional life—under the didactic authority and the purging and regenerating power of God in the gospel to the fullest extent possible.”[2]

Even more, Packer would spend a lifetime underscoring how the Puritans of the past can help Evangelicals of the present. As one example, Packer explains how reading the Puritans can correct the hyper-individualism and anti-thinking perspective that pervades Evangelicalism. In A Quest for Godliness (1990), Packer offers that the Puritans have these seven points of wisdom for present day Evangelicals:

1. The stress on God-centeredness as a divine requirement that is central to the discipline of self-denial.
2. The insistence on the primacy of the mind, and on the impossibility of obeying biblical truth that one has not yet understood.
3. The demand for humility, patience, and steadiness at all times, and for an acknowledgment that the Holy Spirit’s main ministry is not to give thrills but to create in us Christlike character.
4. The recognition that feelings go up and down, and that God frequently tries us by leading us through wastes of emotional flatness.
5. The singling out of worship as life’s primary activity.
6. The stress on our need of regular self-examination by Scripture, in terms set by Psalm 139:23-24.
7. The realisation that sanctified suffering bulks large in God’s plan for his children’s growth in grace.[3]

One could argue, that had not Packer discovered that box of books, his tremendously influential and life altering works, Fundamentalism and the Word of God (1958) and Knowing God (1973), may never have appeared—not to mention the republishing of the Works of John Owen themselves as well as many other volumes in the Puritan canon readily available today.[4]

Even more, Packer’s discovery in Oxford proved vital for helping Evangelicals strengthen their theological foundation, and still is helping. May a new generation continue to follow Packer to make new discoveries like his of their own.

At Midwestern Seminary, we currently have several PhD students reading and writing on the Puritans and Puritan influence. From John Owen, Richard Baxter, and Jeremiah Burroughs, to the Puritan influence on the English Baptists, Jonathan Edwards and D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, and then also, of course, the influence of the Puritans on Charles Spurgeon, explored uniquely through his Puritan collection in The Spurgeon Library

In brief, if you are interested in the Puritans and their legacy, continue the discovery work of J. I. Packer by coming to study them with us at Midwestern.

Editor’s Note: This post originally appeared at JGDuesing.com and is used with permission.

Notes

  1. ^ The location where this took place is North Gate Hall, St Michael’s St, Oxford OX1 2DU, UK.
  2. ^ J. I. Packer, A Grief Sanctified (Crossway, 2002), 19.
  3. ^ J. I. Packer, A Quest for Godliness (Crossway, 1990, 2010), 31.
  4. ^ Leland Ryken, J.I. Packer: An Evangelical Life (Crossway, 2015), 265-267. This key event in Packer’s life is also told in Alister McGrath, J. I. Packer: A Biography (Baker, 1998).