7 Reasons to Stand Against False Teaching
“Do your best,” the apostle Paul writes to protégé Timothy, “Do your best to present yourself to God has one approved, a worker who has no need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth” (2 Timothy 2:15a). Paul is promoting a kind of eager, committed persistence for the truth that the flawless Word of God inspires in us who believe.
According to 2 Timothy 2:15-19, we can learn to stand in truth and against false teaching for at least seven reasons:
God is to be pleased.
False teaching leads to ungodliness.
False teaching quickly spreads.
The faith of some believers might be upset by false teaching.
A firm foundation already exists.
God differentiates between those who spread truth versus falsehood.
False teaching is sin.
Paul unfolds his reasons about fervency for the truth on the basis of who God is and the kind of regard we are to have for Him and those around us.
Because God is Worthy
1.) God is to be pleased.
According to Paul’s teaching, one reason to be firm in the faith is for God to be pleased. Timothy was to view his work as a preacher/ leader as being directly for the Lord. In our contexts, we can consider our handling of God’s Word also as labor we present to Him in love.
We stand against false teaching because God is highly worthy to be pleased with our deeds.
2.) False teaching leads to ungodliness.
Paul progresses to instruct Timothy that any talk irreverent toward Scriptural truth will only produce more and more ungodliness. If believers present the Word of God as trivial, as means for personal gain or influence, or as mere material for displays of intelligence, wit, or debate skill, these self-serving attitudes can be readily replicated by others—far more readily than the devotion that comes from following God with one’s whole heart.
We stand against false—irreverent—teaching because we follow a God who deserves our fear and devotion so that our human words might reflect well upon the worth of divine ones.
Because People Stand to Be Deluded
3.) False teaching quickly spreads.
In 2 Timothy 2:17, Paul reiterates that irreverence can spread like a deadly condition. If we are dismissive about the importance of studying, discerning, and conveying the truth of God, others around us stand to be swayed. Those who might have been receptive to the authority of the Scriptures can find their interest in a complete commitment to Christ and His Word diminished if a less demanding alternative is made to seem viable.
4.) The faith of some believers might be upset by false teaching.
False teaching can also bear an impression upon committed believers. 2 Timothy 2:18 teaches: “[Those who have swerved from the truth] are upsetting the faith of some.” People who have been born again may entertain doubts about orthodox truths because falsehood can often sound profound and persuasive, what was once clear becoming clouded.
We stand against false teaching so that the seeker is not deterred from having ears that hear and the believer is not deluded into believing he or she has an unstable foundation.
Because God Has Spoken
At least three more reasons for determined persistence in truth are conveyed in Timothy 2:19: “But God’s firm foundation stands, bearing this seal: ‘The Lord knows those who are his,’ and, ‘Let everyone who names the name of the Lord depart from iniquity.’”
5.) A firm foundation already exists.
As Paul’s ultimate impetus for presenting oneself as a right handler of God’s Word, he indicates that God’s truth cannot be broken—that its authority stands regardless of the actions or attitudes of men. So, we stand against false teaching because God’s Word is exactly that.
6.) God differentiates between those who spread truth and falsehood.
By way of support, Paul outlines two primary inscriptions on God’s unbreakable foundation. First, God is able to differentiate between those who speak truth versus those who speak falsehood. While people might be deluded by false teaching, God’s perception is piercing. He knows.
We stand against false teaching because we are not judged by others’ reception to God’s message. Should world, friends, or family reject us for truth—that God sees us and knows us can be our strength and comfort.
7.) False teaching is sin.
Paul then refers to an activity that ought to characterize believers—while not being sinless, we are to be those departing from our sins. We stand against false teaching because teaching God’s truth falsely is iniquity.
Two Ways I Stand Against False Teaching
As a church member
In my daily life, one way I stand against false teaching is through my ongoing commitment to the kind of home church I have selected. I have confidence that those entering the place our church worships will receive words from the pulpit that arise from the Scriptures and that have been presented to and weighed before God prior to being delivered to the congregation. And, I have confidence in the eagerness of my church to attend to the truth of all that is being taught throughout its leadership, from pastor and elder to small group leader.
As a parent
Another way I stand against false teaching is through mothering my four-year-old daughter. I engage with her in apologetic and polemical work as we discuss the world in which we live—its reception to Christ and its favorite messages to her age group.
As a family, we also seek to find new ways to discuss and describe the gospel message, teaching nuances and applications. This guards against misconceptions that further teaching can dispel and against the fallenness of human memory that can find itself withered where once stoutly built. All of this I do as a follower of Christ who is ever needful of Him and His cross. So, as often as I sin against my daughter, I seek to make swift apology—to uphold what is right through failure to do it. After apologizing, I often reaffirm to her the truth of the perfection of God, who never does her wrong—and we rejoice in Him, and His truthfulness and graciousness, together.
Being firm in the faith can be considered a habitual occupation—a layer of good work for the Lord that rests atop the rest of the labor of our days. We can hear Paul’s instructions to Timothy like a refreshing call of reminder to be fervent about what is true, about the faith that has been delivered once for all to us, the saints (Jude 3).
This post was originally published at Unlocking the Bible.
'19 Reads
The ten books below are not ranked; you’ll not find here “the best books of the year according to Lianna,” “a list of books I endorse,” or even “my favorite books I read this year.” Instead, my list is comprised of a handful of books that drove themselves into my thinking—in the assorted ways described below—and changed me this year. (Note: In order to avoid redundancy, I excluded any books that I mention in Keeping the Faith.)
On the Incarnation, by Athanasius
Athanasius’ meditations on Jesus, God Incarnate, upholding the universe imparted to my spirit true Christmas joy. He wrote: “Existing in a human body, to which He Himself gives life, He is still Source of life to all the universe, present in every part of it, yet outside the whole; and He is revealed both through the works of His body and through His activity in the world.” (Pg. 15) To read Athanasius’ reflections was beauty imbibed!
Provence, 1970: M.F.K. Fisher, Julia Child, James Beard, and the Reinvention of American Taste, by Luke Barr
For all of this book’s discussion on good taste and foods that taste good, its greater value for me was in the distaste it produced: never before had I quite identified that what I call excellence might sometimes be snobbery. And, purchasing the book on a whim to read about Julia Child for fun, it was a surprise lesson no less.
American History: A Very Short Introduction, by Paul S. Boyer
Largely, Boyer carried me through a sweep of American events—but this book also made me grieve. The author wrote: “The means have changed—from open-air exhortation to televangelism and suburban megachurches—but evangelical faith and missionary zeal remain alive and well in the twenty-first-century America.” (Kindle Loc. 361) Can George Whitefield and Joel Osteen possibly be seen as belonging to the same group worshiping the same God?
Agnes Grey, by Anne Brontë
Prior to reading this novel, I had dwelt on character as a reward in itself—and most of all, as a response to God’s grace of godly perseverance in suffering (Romans 5:3-5). But this book propounded that being able to interact in robust and substantive ways with other people also rests on good character—another reward.
Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners, by John Bunyan
Bunyan influenced me as a writer. From him I saw that divulging how one’s personal, developing faith interacts with the truths of Scripture can be a writing pursuit timelessly of aid. Bunyan writes, for example, of an illness that brought him near death. After confessing that he had once been afraid of death, he relayed: “Now death was lovely and beautiful in my sight; for I saw we shall never live indeed till we be gone to the other World. Oh, methought this life is but a slumber in comparison with that above; at this time also I saw more in those words, Heirs of God (Rom. 8:17), than ever I shall be able to express while I live in this world. Heirs of God! God himself is the portion of the Saints.” (pg. 50)
Eight Women of Faith, by Michael A. G. Haykin
Lady Jane Grey: an Evangelical Queen—she was (very briefly) queen of England prior to her execution by “Bloody Mary.” Her debate with Roman Catholic John Howman, or John of Feckham, about why she was an evangelical; her words for her younger sister about the treasure of Scripture; and her final speech prior to death all reveal an abiding faith in Christ—whom she knew through Reformation doctrine. Addressing those who would soon witness her execution, she said: “I do look to be saved by no other mean, but only by the mercy of God, in the blood of his only Son Jesus Christ.” (Kindle Loc. 424) I pray that her conviction printed on Haykin’s page would be assumed in my heart with the same black-and-white clarity.
The Four Loves, by C. S. Lewis
Under Lewis’ tutelage, friendship became a less amorphous concept to me. He wrote, “To the Ancients, Friendship seemed the happiest and most full human of all loves; the crown of life and the school of virtue.” Another of his thoughts: “. . . [Friendship] is a relation between men at their highest level of individuality.” And then: “The very condition of having Friends is that we should want something else besides Friends. Where the truthful answer to the question Do you see the same truth? Would be ‘I see nothing and I don’t care about the truth; I only want a Friend,’ no Friendship can arise—though Affection of course may. There would be nothing for the Friendship to be about; and Friendship must be about something. . . .” I often want my friends involved in one endeavor or another that I undertake—and I have sometimes noticed the same tendency in others too. Lewis puts words to why. (Kindle Loc. 742, 859—Note: The Kindle edition I own is no longer available, so I have linked to another.)
Christianity & Liberalism, by J. Gresham Machen
Even if anti-intellectual Christians have existed, God cannot be described as such. I mused throughout reading Machen that the God who created the intellect gives it the satisfaction of His inscripturated word. My reasons for desiring knowledge, and anticipation of how knowledge can augment my faith expressed, grew meatier.
The Short Life of Jonathan Edwards, by George Marsden
For this entry on my list, I make an exception to my premise for this post. I must reveal my appreciation for this book—that if I were ranking books I read this year, this would be among the top. The even writing, the marked detail, the unexpected pieces of history interwoven—I fell ravenous over this little feast. (I say “little” because, in full, it registers at 176 pages as compared with Marsden’s Edwards: A Life at 640). The whole of it fed me; so, I can do no better than humbly raise it for your 2020 reading list (if you haven’t read it already).
The Soul in Paraphrase, By Leland Ryken
I am certainly not familiar with all of George Herbert’s poems—simply reading one here or there over the years or using a topical guide when I want to feel with him on a given subject. So, when might I have found Prayer (I) had I not read The Soul in Paraphrase? I stand indebted to Ryken for introducing me to a poem that I anticipate carrying into the next year and still remembering the year after that.
Luther Taught Me to Have Faith Again Today
These present days of Christian life can feel disjointed—I have been reborn, but am not glorified. Or, I have been made alive to the things of God, but am not without the sin He hates.
How Do I Relate with God, Though I Still Sin?
I have received the grace of Christ in justification—I trust that God credits Christ’s righteousness to me. I trust too that God will make me perfect in future glory, and that He is making me more like Christ by the power of the Spirit on this earth. But even while knowing Christ’s beauty, love, and hope, I have sorrowfully sinned this day.
So, though having been reborn and having hope in eternity, I have found a question concerning my day-to-day fellowship with God percolating within me: How do I relate with God at this present time, amidst the reality of my present sin that is incompatible with my new and future life in Christ?
Luther’s Answer Is Daily Faith
Reformer Martin Luther explains how living in constant fellowship with God on this earth depends upon ongoing faith. He writes that God “deals with us according to our belief in Christ until sin is killed.”[1]
Though my basis for approaching God cannot be that I have refrained from selfishness or that I have loved God will all of my being this day, I can approach God with faith in Christ. I can commune with him through faith that my burden of sins is removed from me—not strictly my burden of past sins, but the ones that would have just this day earned damnation for me, if not for Christ.
Daily Faith in God’s Grace
The gospel was not only true at the point of my conversion, and will not only be evident at the time of my glorification, but is in effect this minute. My Christ-purchased fellowship with God is preserved and available, though I am not without sin. This in-between time seems designed to continually remind me of God’s kindness anew—as I continually must acknowledge my need for this grace.
I require a sustaining, presently-saving work of God—a work no less necessary to keep me from wrath than my initial rebirth. I can never be without the gospel because I am saved again every day. I am not suggesting that I must be re-justified, or born again again. My one-time justification instantly ushered me into the realm of peace with God (Romans 5:1). But, as Paul teaches, Christians are presently “being saved” by the gospel (1 Corinthians 1:18, 15:2), and are presently “being guarded” in a state of peace with God by his power, which takes place through the continual relationship with Christ of faith (1 Peter 1:5).
God knows I am not perfect; I am not to approach Him as if I were. He knows I am not made to stand independently of Christ; I am never to approach Him as if I could. I come before the Father in Christ with faith—yesterday, today, and until faith becomes sight.
Daily Faith with Full Assurance
Luther describes faith as ongoing in the Christian life: “Faith is a living, unshakeable confidence in God’s grace.”[2] And this is how God would have me approach Him, with full assurance of pardon and certainty of salvation—for I do know Christ, and this is true to how I know my Lord to be.
Luther continues: “This kind of trust in and knowledge of God's grace makes a person joyful, confident, and happy with regard to God and all creatures.”[3] Not only are my questions of practical fellowship with God met with God’s daily grace, these questions are spun through Christ into new praises of the present day’s preservation.
In this practice of imperfectly coming before Him, God impresses upon me a glad, bold, happy certitude that none of this salvation stems from me. I could not earn it at first, and I cannot sustain it at present. But nevertheless, it is sustained! Salvation for today is delivered by the God whose mercies are new toward me every morning (Lamentations 3:23).
Daily Faith That Sustains Good Works
When I do come before this kind God, then, I desire that I might bring to him not only the confessions of how his grace has been needed, but my thanks too—offerings of glad, good works that His grace has wholly enabled and inspired.
Luther describes how faith is connected to a willing spirit:
Through faith, a person will do good to everyone without coercion, willingly and happily; he will serve everyone, suffer everything for the love and praise of God, who has shown him such grace. It is as impossible to separate works from faith as burning and shining from fire.[4]
Doing good works—this aspect of my fellowship with God—is sustained through daily faith as well. For faith is completed—it finds its fitting outlet—by works (James 2:22); if faith in in God’s assurance of grace is not continual, neither will works be. But as faith is exercised, works flow.
I think the Christian life will continue to feel disjointed—for, I am declared righteous, but do not live fully righteously. But God’s grace is laced through each phase of the pilgrimage to support it all—not only justification and glorification, but also this present day’s salvation.
Luther has taught me to exercise faith in the Lord again today—that this present, imperfect moment in time meets a grace perfect and preserving. Every day until sin is no more, God communes with me once again through faith in my Lord.
[1] Martin Luther, Preface to the Letter of St. Paul to the Romans (Grand Rapids: Christian Classics Ethereal Library, n.d.), 5, https://www.ccel.org/ccel/luther/prefacetoromans.pdf.
[2] Ibid., 6.
[3] Ibid.
[4] Ibid.
This post was originally published at Unlocking the Bible.
We Are Never Helpless in Helping
Regularly, I encounter suffering in other believers’ lives that I cannot remedy or change. Further, I am unable to comprehend the full impact and the unique features of others’ pressures and sorrows. Yet, I often desire to be that impossibly close. Knowing what I cannot do could lead to discouragement. But the apostle Paul writes of a better way.
“Join Me”
Paul tells—no, urges—the church in Rome to join him in his struggle (Romans 15:30). He doesn’t instruct his fellow Christians to solely accept and acknowledge their real limitations in helping him. He also doesn’t say that because they are not the agents of solution or omniscient listeners, they aren’t much help after all. He tells them to enter into his concerns.
After teaching upon teaching of gospel theology in his letter to the Romans, Paul then writes to the church in Rome about his needs. He desires to be free in Judea to continue his mission and well-received in ministry in Jerusalem (cf. Acts 24:17), all so that he may be refreshed through a trip to the church at Rome(Romans 15:31-32). And Paul gives the church at Rome these prayer requests fundamentally on the basis of their being fellow believers who share with him in the love of God through Christ, as his letter describes. While he is hoping to visit them, he has been prevented from doing so (Romans 1:13). But he entreatsthat they share his concerns; he wants their help.
As one immediate and personal application of the theology he had been teaching—a theology that joins believers together in the Lord—he asks them to pray.
“I urge you, brothers and sisters, by our Lord Jesus Christ and by the love of the Spirit, to join me in my struggle by praying to God for me.”
Romans 15:30 NIV
Commonality Affects Prayer
If any of the recipients of his letter have merely casual concerns for him thus far, he urges them forward. If they have little to no concerns, he asks them to consider their same Lord and the same love of the Holy Spirit among them—the God who makes their priorities and sense of mission shared. And if they already do have significant concern, then he directs that drive of compassion toward one end—the means by which he believes that he will substantially receive their aid.
When a believer is suffering and we want to help more than we possibly can help, we can pray.
Perhaps you have done all that you are able to do in the life of a suffering friend—been present to listen, continued toremembered him or her over time, sought to offer specific service of some kind, or insightful and compassionate words of biblical help that God has enabled you to provide—and you still feel as though you wish you could do more. Don’t belittle the help you have already given. And then, don’t doubt the purpose of the compassion that is remaining in your heart; don’t allow it to make you feel helpless. It’s there for a purpose.
As we pray for God’s glory in the lives of our believing friends and family members, we remember what He can do:
God can see into our inner beings to know our exact needs,preparing corresponding provisions of Himself to help the believer stay near to Him in sorrow. The Holy Spirit is able to guide the suffering Christian into the truth of the Word, the truth that affords lasting comfort and provides foundation for perseverance.
God could change circumstances altogether, glorifying Himself through a demonstration of His power. And He can also arrange the sufferer’s days to allow for upliftingcircumstantial help amidst pain.
God can provide opportunities through suffering by the Spirit to display Christ-like character and proclaim the gospel that alone gives hope, as God’s glory radiates through the believer’s life. God can enable the Christian to maintain, and often increase, his or her witness to Christ while in the saddest of days.
God can move the Christian’s inner spirit to pray with a hopeful, expectant, and believing heart that He would come back for His own soon. And the Christian’s spirit can also gain greater compassion for those who yet do not have the hope of the gospel, thanking God for His patience with this world.
God can press His good purposes into human sorrow with such power that the believer can have immense joy through the privilege of glorifying His Name and depending upon Him at all times. Paul is, of course, right. We have commonality through our shared love of God that enables us to instantaneously understand the manner in which we can pray for one another.
Additionally, Paul does not only ask for prayer as a fellow believer, but also as one who is engaged in a life devoted to the ministry of the Word and to the spread of the gospel to those who had not yet heard it. As we think of those who are suffering, we can pray too for believers experiencing various pressures as a result of their devotion to ministry and missions—joining as supporters of their labors.
Never Helpless in Helping
Because we have prayer, we are never helpless in helping. We can call upon the Lord who knows us and all of our circumstances with knowledge that is comprehensive, familiar, and precise. Pressing into our desires to help others in impossible-to-us ways is useful, hope-filled. For, in those desires, we remember to pray into others’ lives the comforts of our shared, infinite God.
This post was originally published at The Ploughman’s Rest.
Proverbs for the Writer
“The fear of the Lord is the beginning of knowledge” (Proverbs 1:7). This, stated my professor, would be the starting point for our class on doctrine. Delivered to Bible college by the bus of the public school system, this axiom was delightfully new to my academic environment. The basis of a for-credit class would be not only the knowledge of God, but a pursuit of knowing God from a requested disposition of worship and humility? I gleaned from Proverbs 1:7 and this class: Humble yourself before God in order to know Him. Who He is as Lord requires it!
This principle has followed into my present-day studies and writing. I do not first learn and write so that I can write a post or make a submission. I first learn and write, privately, so that I can love my God more and better as He deserves. If He so ordains my study and writing to remain private, I am content—no, rejoicing!—already.
When God does ordain study and writing to be for others—not only my transformation and worship—I find that the book of Proverbs also gives help for handling the truth and conveying it from the basis of humility before the Scriptures. A survey of Proverbs has been helpful to me as a framework for wise theological blogging—and if you are a studier and writer, I invite you to peer into these notes I have made on Proverbs in case they are beneficial for you as well:
“For the LORD gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding” (Prov. 2:6). If I am writing theologically, I ask: What is the basis for truth in my words—how has His revelation driven these words?
“The LORD by wisdom founded the earth; by understanding he established the heavens; by his knowledge the deeps broke open, and the clouds drop down the dew” (Prov. 3:19-20). If the Lord made all of creation with wisdom, understanding, and knowledge, how many depths of these do I not know? My eyes can distinguish only drops. So, I am led to specificity with my words, attempting to not write of little-known (to me) depths, to be watchful for assumptions, and to not champion my own sense of reasonableness.
“My son, be attentive to my wisdom; incline your ear to my understanding, that you may keep discretion, and your lips may guard knowledge” (Prov. 5:1-2). To accurately preserve the knowledge of God when writing about Him is a sacred charge. Thus, I work against a rambling writing style and thoughtless, vague metaphors. For with these, the full point is purposefully beyond ascertaining and misinterpretations are easily made, causing truth to be delivered in obscured tidbits, at best.
“The wise lay up knowledge, but the mouth of a fool brings ruin near” (Prov. 10:14). Truth about God is to be sought as gold, causing me to desire carefully-selected and to document accessibly-cataloged sources.
“Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge, but he who hates reproof is stupid” (Prov. 12:1). To be corrected into better theology is a service to me—disagreement on content never being taken personally. Public debates and dialogues can be appreciated for the same reason—that they might purify the theological understandings of readers beyond those directly involved.
“A scoffer seeks wisdom in vain, but knowledge is easy for a man of understanding” (Prov. 14:6; c.f. 15:14). A desire to exalt God’s perfections and ways allows theological knowledge to be healthily absorbed. And this parallels then passing forward knowledge through writing. When God is the focus, study and personal experiences flow into being utilized for demonstrating and conveying truth.
“The tongue of the wise commends knowledge, but the mouths of fools pour out folly” (Prov. 15:2). Before I began blogging and was familiar with the evangelical blogging landscape, I appreciated and commended truth-saturated articles from evangelical sites irrespective of the writer. Since, I have become more familiar with the blogosphere’s writers and notice the bylines when I read articles, yet I still aim to remember my former mindset. Meaning, I like to remember that other readers are likely looking at the knowledge content of articles at ministry blog sites—over and above the writers. What I write, the substance, is deserving of my attention—not that I have been the one to write it. If truth has been conveyed—whether through me or someone else—I can rejoice.
“Whoever restrains his words has knowledge, and he who has a cool spirit is a man of understanding” (Prov. 17:27). I have been a writer who thought I knew much; later, I experienced conversations with a humble professor at seminary who confessed how much he stood to learn. Far surpassing me, he chose to not answer some of my questions on this basis. I saw him demonstrate wise restraint—I was impressed and immediately desired to possess the same disposition.
“Desire without knowledge is not good, and whoever makes haste with his feet misses his way” (Prov. 19:2). The organizational, connective, and creative aspects of blogging have all been part of my desire to write online. Yet, these desires needed to be weighed. And this proverb has taught me a singular test: Am I publishing this to promote the knowledge and worship of God? On this basis, my impulses are honed, steered, or rejected.
“The eyes of the LORD keep watch over knowledge, but he overthrows the words of the traitor” (Prov. 22:12). Theology is a study involving precision and accuracy. God is worthy to be pursued and known for who He has revealed Himself to be, which causes me to—prayerfully—refrain from taking liberties with Scripture.
“By wisdom a house is built, and by understanding it is established; by knowledge the rooms are filled with all precious and pleasant riches” (Prov. 24:4; c.f. 24:5). Needing to be built and filled implies process and progress—or, hard work—not the Google searches I often employ. How much will I exemplify my love for God by working in a disciplined manner for more understanding of Him? This proverb reminds me to watch the lives of those already more disciplined and studied. How compelling, reaching, and fluid are the words of those who have long studied God! I can witness the reward.
Just as I learned in Bible school that knowledge of God starts with humble study, so when I write theologically for others, my words can also humbly submit to His revelation. When God’s Word drives the substance of my words for others, unhelpful practices and mindsets can be more easily and routinely eliminated. My best defense against temptations that accompany writing online is a high view of God, a fear of Him—that He is utterly worthy of words that honor who He is and make Him wisely known.
This post was originally published at Servants of Grace.
Imitating Jonathan Edwards’ Godly Parenting
Words filled with biblical truth spoken into an air of uncertainty must be among the most agonizing parents can deliver to a child. Will children receive the Scriptures as foolishness or as the wisdom of God (1 Corinthians 1:18)? The answer is not always known.
As parents, if closeness with our children were the only aim when they approach us with their fears and pains, we might restrict our replies to: “God is near. He is with you” or “God aches with you.” I find momentous biblical truth about the character of God in each of these replies (Hebrews 13:5; Lamentations 3:32-33).
Yet, when in self-sacrificial love for our children we prioritize their relationships with God over and above their relationships with us, more biblical counsel emerges. This counsel potentially puts the parent-child relationship at risk for the sake of their good (Matthew 19:29) and sends us in prayer toward a God who draws people to himself.
Jonathan Edwards and His Daughter, Esther
Jonathan Edwards offered this kind of self-sacrificial love to his daughter, Esther. He wrote the following words to her when she was ill. His words meet the reality of the world’s sorrows:
I would not have you think that any strange thing has happened to you in this affliction: ‘Tis according to the course of things in this world, that after the world’s smiles, some great affliction soon comes.[1]
He counsels her to make the time of illness useful within her spirit:
God has now given you early and seasonable warning not at all to depend on worldly prosperity.
Having humility before God about her earthly illness would foster contentment in eternal rest. If she cannot improve her circumstance on this earth, Edwards advises she look to the eternal glory God might glean from her difficult season:
Therefore I would advise….if it pleases God to restore you, to lot upon no happiness here.
Labour while you live, to serve God and do what good you can, and endeavor to improve every dispensation to God’s glory and your own spiritual good, and be content to do and bear all that God calls you to in this wilderness, and never expect to find this world any thing better than a wilderness.
Lay your account to travel through it in weariness, painfulness, and trouble, and wait for your rest and your prosperity ‘till hereafter where they that die in the Lord rest from their labours, and enter into the joy of their Lord.
He encourages his daughter to give herself wholly to the Lord in suffering. He can deliver challenging, truth-focused counsel because he has already made the same commitment to the Lord in his life. As a loving parent, being at a distance from his child without hope for future visits would undoubtedly be painful.
But the exemplary nature of his contented commitment to God is on display when writing to his suffering daughter who is out of his reach, across many miles.
You are like to spend the rest of your life (if you should get over this illness) at a great distance from your parents, but care not much for that. If you lived near us, yet our breath and yours would soon go forth, and we should return to our dust, whither we are all hastening.
‘Tis of infinitely more importance to have the presence of an heavenly Father, and to make process towards an heavenly home. Let us all take care that we may meet there at last.[2]
He delivers world-denying hope in courageous words to a hurting child. First, by speaking challenging thoughts he risks that his words might be met with disagreement causing relational distance.
Second, he speaks words for the good of his child, without thought of himself. He advises his daughter to “care not much for” being near or far from him—so long as she remains near to the Lord. Edwards clearly has no greater joy than that his daughter would walk in the truth (3 John 1:4).
My Own Parenting
I do not want any less than what Edwards exemplifies. I would not ultimately want a pleasant-enough relationship with my daughter to the detriment of considering eternity—heaven and hell—together. Truth may be agonizing, at times, to convey—but these kinds of words are good; they are love. Speaking them is the kind of risk God asks me to take for the sake of Christ and the good of my daughter (Romans 10:14).
When my daughter is grown, I want her to see parents like Edwards. I want us to be rightfully content in the Lord so that our only request and hope is that she walk with the Lord to eternity. Edwards’ counsel is compelling, in part, because he is true to maintaining an eternal focus himself. To ask my daughter to follow me in contentment where I have never been would prove challenging!
Ultimately, Edwards and his daughter are brought closer together through this focus. Esther writes of their relationship:
Last eve I had some free discourse with My Father on the great things that concern my best interest—I opened my difficulties to him very freely and he as freely advised and directed.
The conversation has removed some distressing doubts that discouraged me much in my Christian warfare—He gave me some excellent directions to be observed in secret that tend to keep the soul near to God, as well as others to be observed in a more publick way—What a mercy that I have such a Father! Such a Guide![3]
Every decision of faith in the Lord is solely each individual’s to make. But, parents can aid their children’s individual decisions by refusing to create a relational dynamic intent on bringing us a sense of happiness and fulfillment.
Looking to Edwards and his Esther, as a type of Christ-exalting relationship, we can continue to aim higher, with prayerful hope, for the kind of rich comradery that flows when both parties, by God’s grace, love the truth and content themselves in the Lord alone.
This post was originally published at Unlocking the Bible.