By Jonathan Edwards (1703-1758)

Listen to me, O Jacob, and Israel, whom I called! I am he; I am the first, and I am the last. — Isaiah 48.12

I have greatly longed for a broken heart and to lie low before God. It is affecting to think how ignorant I was when a young Christian—of the bottomless, infinite depths of wickedness, pride, hypocrisy and deceit, left in my heart.

I have a much greater sense of my universal, exceeding dependence on God’s grace and strength, and mere good pleasure, of late, than I used formerly to have. And I have experienced more of an abhorrence of my own righteousness.

The very thought of any joy arising in me—on any consideration of my own amiableness, performances, or experiences, or any goodness of heart or life—is nauseous and detestable to me. And yet I am greatly afflicted with a proud and self righteous spirit; much more than I used to be. I see that serpent rising and putting forth its head continually, every where, all around me.

Holiness appears to me to be of a sweet, pleasant, charming, serene, calm nature—which brings an inexpressible purity, brightness, peacefulness and ravishment to the soul. In other words, it makes the soul like a field or garden of God, with all manner of pleasant flowers; all pleasant, delightful, and undisturbed: enjoying a sweet calm and the gently vivifying beams of the sun.

The soul of a true Christian appears like such a little white flower as we see in the spring of the years; low and humble on the ground, opening its bosom to receive the pleasant beams of the sun’s glory; rejoicing as it were in a calm rapture; diffusing around a sweet flagrancy; standing peacefully and lovingly in the midst of other flowers; all in like manner opening their bosoms to drink in the light of the sun.

There is no part of creature holiness, that I have such great a sense of its loveliness, as humility, brokenness of heart, and poverty of spirit—and there is nothing else I so earnestly long for. My heart pants after this—to lie low before God, as in the dust; that I might be nothing and that God might be all; that I might become as a little child.

*Abridged and language updated from The Personal Narrative of Jonathan Edwards and His Seventy Resolutions.

Today’s Reading
Isaiah 48 (Listen – 3:39)
Revelation 18 (Listen – 4:48)

You felt secure in your wickedness, you said, “No one sees me”; your wisdom and your knowledge led you astray, and you said in your heart, “I am, and there is no one besides me.” — Isaiah 47.10

No one sees me—Adam as he hid in the garden of Eden. No one sees me—David after he dominated Bathsheba and sent her away. No one sees me—Peter as he cowered into the night after the crowds identified him as a follower of Christ.

The eyes of the Lord are in every place, keeping watch on the evil and the good. — Proverbs 15.3

“Where are you?” God’s voice called after Adam. “You are that man!” the prophet cried to David. “And Peter remembered the saying of Jesus, ‘Before the rooster crows, you will deny me three times.’ And he went out and wept bitterly.”

Exposed.

Each had legitimate reasons—wisdom and knowledge—that explained what happened and could help self-justify so their lives could move forward. But, “I am and there is no one besides me”— the mantra of self-actualization—quickly turned to “I AM was beside me.” Each caught in their sin.

And, yet, none were left alone. None were crushed for moral failure. God saw not only their sin, but the path of restoration. Richard Rohr remarks,

Perhaps the most difficult forgiveness, the greatest letting go, is to forgive ourselves for doing it wrong. We need to realize that we are not perfect, and we are not innocent. If I want to maintain an image of myself as innocent, superior, or righteous, I can only do so at the cost of truth. We have for too long confused holiness with innocence, whereas holiness is actually mistakes overcome and transformed, not necessary mistakes avoided.

Letting go is different than denying or repressing. To let go of it, you have to admit it. You have to own it. You see it and you hand it over to God. You refuse to let the negative story line that you’ve wrapped yourself around define your life.

Letting go of our cherished images of ourselves is really the way to heaven, because when you fall down to the bottom, you fall on solid ground, the Great Foundation, the bedrock of God. It looks like an abyss, but it’s actually a foundation. On that foundation, you have nothing to prove, nothing to protect: “I am who I am who I am,” and for some unbelievable reason, that’s what God has chosen to love.

Today’s Reading
Isaiah 47 (Listen – 2:52)
Revelation 17 (Listen – 3:19)

Hire a goldsmith, and he makes (a god); then they fall down and worship! — Isaiah 46.6

Because modernism has largely done away with physical representations of deities, it is far more difficult to identify the idols which pursue our hearts each day. As I’ve written, a culture’s idols are revealed by what it pours the most energy and resources into. Ancient cultures built structures that survived millennia; U.S. investment portfolios designed around the 7 deadly sins outperform the S&P 500 every quarter.

Yet our idols are not always sins like lust and anger. Timothy Keller, in his book Counterfeit Gods, explains, “When anything in life is an absolute requirement for your happiness and self-worth, it is essentially an ‘idol,’ something you are actually worshiping.”

The greatest sign of idolatry is its churn. Pursuit after pursuit proves insufficient. Jobs come and go; markets crash; lovers disappoint; things once counted on fall through. It’s not the pressure of modern culture, it’s the result of our heart’s natural path to seek fulfillment in things outside God. In his observations of 19th century America, Alexis De Tocqueville recorded:

Sixty years is too brief a compass for man’s imagination. The incomplete joys of this world can never satisfy his heart.

The fulfilling life we long for isn’t found in our pursuits, but as a result of our ability to prune such things from sapping our time and energy. Only then can we fully pour ourselves into, and receive everything we need from, the one true source of life. Dr. Keller concludes:

Idolatry is not just a failure to obey God, it is a setting of the whole heart on something besides God. This cannot be remedied only by repenting that you have an idol, or using willpower to try to live differently. Turning from idols is not less than these two things, but it is far more.

“Setting the mind and heart on things above” where “your life is hid with Christ in God” means appreciation, rejoicing, and resting in what Jesus has done for you. It entails joyful worship, a sense of God’s reality in prayer.

Jesus must become more beautiful to your imagination, more attractive to your heart, than your idol. That is what will replace your counterfeit gods. If you uproot the idol and fail to “plant” the love of Christ in its place, the idol will grow back.

Today’s Reading
Isaiah 46 (Listen – 2:12)
Revelation 16 (Listen – 3:17)

All of them are put to shame and confounded; the makers of idols go in confusion together. But Israel is saved by the Lord with everlasting salvation. — Isaiah 45.16-17

Because many of Scripture’s authors lived under political oppression it is easy to see how Christians today can faithfully respond to leaders with whom we do not agree. “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities. For there is no authority except from God, and those that exist have been instituted by God,” wrote Paul. He would spend extended portions of his life —even penning the gospel—in chains.

Most Christians in the western world do not face this type of persecution. It is not uncommon for politicians to defend freedom of faith and work to serve causes which sit at the heart of the Christian Scriptures. Victories in these areas—like treatment of the fatherless, single mothers, and immigrants—are massive steps forward for humanity. But elevating political victory to supreme importance is to confess functional atheism.

In his book Onward: Engaging the Culture without Losing the Gospel, Southern Baptist ethicist Russell Moore highlights this tension in America:

Christian values were always more popular in American culture than the Christian gospel. That’s why one could speak of “God and country” with great reception in almost any era of the nation’s history but would create cultural distance as soon as one mentioned ‘Christ and him crucified.’

God was always welcome in American culture. He was, after all, the Deity whose job it was to bless America. The God who must be approached through the mediation of the blood of Christ, however, was much more difficult to set to patriotic music or to ‘Amen’ in a prayer at the Rotary Club.

Isaiah reminds his readers that all idols will crumble—yet that is not what brings joy to the faithful. Russell continues:

Our vote for President is less important than our vote to receive new members for baptism into our churches. A President is term-limited and, for that matter, so is the United States (and every other nation)…. Our church membership rolls say to the people on them, and to the outside world, ‘These are those we believe will inherit the universe, as joint-heirs with Christ.’

Christians should celebrate when truth breaks through in our culture’s institutions and politics—but our hope should, at the same time, be drawn beyond these temporary victories to the glory of the Kingdom. “It may be that America is not ‘post-Christian’ at all,” Russell reflects. “It may be that America is instead pre-Christian, a land that though often Christ-haunted has never known the power of the gospel, yet.”

Today’s Reading
Isaiah 45 (Listen – 4:39)
Revelation 15 (Listen – 1:29)

The Summer Reading Series is designed to equip our growing community with curated book recommendations that shape faith and sharpen cultural insight.

By Timothy Keller

Research and experience tell us that a majority of people reach for the spiritual to help them interpret and bear up under horrendous suffering. Viktor Frankl, a Jewish psychiatrist who survived three years in the Nazi death camps, observed how some of his fellow prisoners were able to endure the horror and pass through it while others could not. The difference came down to what Frankl called meaning.

The problem is that contemporary people think life is all about finding happiness. We decide what conditions will make us happy and then we work to bring those conditions about. To live for happiness means that you are trying to get something out of life. But when suffering comes along, it takes the conditions for happiness away, and so suffering destroys all your reason to keep living.

To “live for meaning” means not that you try to get something out of life but rather that life expects something from us. In other words, you have meaning only when there is something in life more important than your own personal freedom and happiness, something for which you are glad to sacrifice your happiness.

Because this was the only way to survive the terror of the death camps, Frankl noted how often secular or nominally religious people turned to faith once they entered those place. Many prisoners developed a new “religious interest… the most sincere imaginable.”

The secular view of life does not work for most people in the face of suffering. Why not? One reason is because human suffering comes in such an enormous variety of forms, stemming from a wide spectrum of different causes. The Western approach oversimplifies the complex causes of suffering.

As Frankl recognized in the death camps, people who are their own legislators of morality and meaning have nothing to die for, and therefore nothing to live for when life takes away their freedom.

That story of late modern culture—that life is about individual freedom and happiness—has no place for suffering. But the Christian story is utterly different. Suffering is actually at the heart of the Christian story.

Suffering is the result of our turn away from God, and therefore it was the way through which God himself in Jesus Christ came down and rescued us for himself. And now it is how we suffer that comprises one of the main ways we become great and Christ-like, holy and happy, and a crucial way we show the world the love and glory of our Savior.

*Excerpt from Timothy Keller, Walking with God through Pain and Suffering. Penguin Books, 2015. Review at Christianity Today.
Today’s Reading
Isaiah 42 (Listen – 4:11)
Revelation 12 (Listen – 2:58)

This Weekend’s Readings
Isaiah 43 (Listen – 4:06) Revelation 13 (Listen – 3:20)
Isaiah 44 (Listen – 5:12) Revelation 14 (Listen – 3:51)