Puritans were supposed to be dour, sour, austere, hardhearted killjoys, always afraid that someone somewhere might be enjoying themselves, right?  That’s the stereotype.  But stereotypes don’t always fare well in the light of day.

Consider Jonathan Edwards.  He’s the guy who preached about “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.” But if you take a closer look at Edwards’ writings, you’ll find a man who despised the emotional coldness of mere religion for religion’s sake and who spoke warmly of a lively, joyful, and sweet faith in Christ.

But what I want to draw your attention to today is how Edwards delighted in “the exuberant goodness of the Creator” as it was made known in every detail—large and small—of the natural world.

Consider his reflections on his days as a young believer, rejoicing in the knowledge of God:  “I often used to sit and view the moon, for a long time; and so in the daytime, spent much time in viewing the clouds and sky, to behold the sweet glory of God in these things.”

This appreciation for how the character of the Creator was reflected in his creation began to develop when Edwards was first converted, around the age of 17.  He writes that at that time, “The appearance of everything was altered….  There seemed to be, as it were, a calm, sweet cast, or appearance of divine glory, in almost everything….  God’s excellency, his wisdom, his purity and love, seemed to appear in everything; in the sun, moon, and stars; in the clouds and blue sky; in the grass, flowers, trees; in the water and all nature; which used greatly to fix my mind.”

He was especially enthralled with the “sweet” power and beauty of thunderstorms:  “I felt God at the first appearance of a thunderstorm.  And used to take the opportunity at such times, to fix myself to view the clouds, and see the lightning’s play, and hear the majestic and awful voice of God’s thunder… leading me to sweet contemplations of my great and glorious God.  While thus engaged, it always seemed natural for me to sing, or chant for my meditations; or, to speak my thoughts in soliloquies with a singing voice.”

Edwards — who was an absolute genius by any standard — wrote many scholarly essays on different aspects of nature which delighted him, such as atoms, light rays, rainbows, butterflies, and much more.  He once wrote a piece on New England’s “flying spider” which was known for “marching in the air from one tree to another, sometimes at the distance of five or six rods, though they are wholly destitute of wings.”

After careful observation, Edwards explained this spider’s ability to “fly.” And then — in characteristic Edwards style — he wrote of “the exuberant goodness of the Creator, who hath not only provided for all the necessities, but also for the pleasures and recreations of all sorts of creatures, even the insects.”

That’s right.  Edwards argued that God even wanted his bugs to enjoy themselves.

This love of God’s world was frequently observed in Edwards’ sermons.  Preaching to Mohican and Mohawk Indians gathered by a river to hear something of the gospel, Edwards declared that “God’s goodness is like a river that overflows all of its bounds.”

Inviting these Indians to consider the beauty of the Bible, Edwards said:  “We invite you to come and enjoy the light of the Word of God, which is ten thousand times better than the light of the sun.”

In one of his most interesting works (to me, anyway!), “Images and Shadows of Divine Things,” Edwards drew wonderfully insightful spiritual lessons and analogies from things like trees, rivers, stars, a cat playing with a mouse, a difficult climb up a mountain, etc.

Edwards was in awe of the beauty of God’s creation: “The reason why almost all men, and those that seem to be very miserable, love life: because they cannot bear to lose the sight of such a lovely and beautiful world.”

This, too, is the story of the church.  God’s people are a people who have been set free to understand how the very attributes of the Eternal and Living God Himself are on display every day in the world around us (Romans 1.19,20; Psalm 19.1-6; Acts 14.17; 17.24-27). 

In every garden there are 1,000 intense theological truths that demand our wonder and praise. 

“Seeing the crowds, he went up on the mountain, and when he sat down, his disciples came to him. And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying…” (Matthew 5.1,2).

For a while now in our Life category, we’ve been considering what the Son of God had to say about living the Christian life in the “beatitudes” of Matthew 5. And actually, he had quite a lot to say. Consider this summary from John Stott:

“The beatitudes paint a comprehensive portrait of a Christian disciple. We see him first on his knees before God, acknowledging his spiritual poverty and mourning over it. This makes him meek or gentle in all his relationships, since honesty compels him to allow others to think of him what before God he confesses himself to be. Yet he is far from acquiescing in his sinfulness, for he hungers and thirsts after righteousness, longing to grow in grace and in goodness.

“We see him next with others, out in human community. His relationship with God does not cause him to withdraw from society, nor is he insulated from the world’s pain. On the contrary, he is in the thick of it, showing mercy to those battered by adversity and sin. He is transparently sincere in all his dealings and seeks to play a constructive role as a peacemaker. Yet he is not thanked for his efforts, but rather opposed, slandered, insulted and persecuted on account of the righteousness for which he stands and the Christ with whom he is identified.”

There you go. That’s the man/woman who is “blessed,” according to the lips of the king.

Note that all the beatitudes are describing equally what every Christian is called to be. Even that last one that we looked at briefly last time — the blessing of being persecuted for the sake of Christ (see the June 22, 2008 post).

Apparently, whenever Christians are despised, sneered at, rejected, mocked, slandered, excluded, or persecuted, they are to receive this as an everyday mark of Christian discipleship — like being merciful or pure in heart. Those who stand with the suffering and rejected Christ in this world will occasionally know suffering and rejection themselves. Expect it.

This is frequently taught in the Bible, actually. John 15.18-25; 1 Peter 4.13,14; Acts 14.22; 2 Timothy 3.12. 

Remember the story of Dietrich Bonhoeffer? (If you need a refresher, visit the blog post from November 7, 2007.) He had a pretty good handle on this connection between Christian discipleship and suffering. Consider:

“Suffering, then, is the badge of true discipleship. The disciple is not above his master. Following Christ means passio passiva, suffering because we have to suffer. That is why Luther reckoned suffering among the marks of the true Church….  Discipleship means allegiance to the suffering Christ, and it is therefore not at all surprising that Christians should be called upon to suffer. In fact, it is a joy and a token of grace.”

Mark Twain was a quite a celebrated man in his lifetime. He was often the guest of honor at receptions and “society” meetings, and he was a much–sought–after speaker for after dinner engagements. And time after time, Twain would be introduced by the chairmen of these events in the most glowing terms.

On November 15, 1900, Twain found himself being introduced in that very familiar and very complimentary manner again.  The man introducing the “virtuous” Mr. Twain this time was Judge Rastus S. Ransom.  After the introduction, Twain began his speech this way…

“Mr. Chairman, Ladies and Gentlemen… It seems a most difficult thing for any man to say anything about me that is not complimentary.  I don’t know what the charm is about me which makes it impossible for a person to say a harsh thing about me and say it heartily, as if he was glad to say it.

“I am constructed like everybody else, and enjoy a compliment as well as any other fool*, but I do like to have the other side presented. And there is another side. I have a wicked side. Estimable friends who know all about it would tell you and take a certain delight in telling you things I have done, and things further that I have not repented. The real life that I live, and the real life that I suppose all of you live, is a life of interior sin.”

[…later on in the same speech…] “Judge Ransom seems to have all the virtues that he ascribes to me. But oh my! If you could throw an x–ray through him! We are a pair! I have made a life–study of trying to appear to be what he seems to think I am. Everybody believes that I am a monument of all the virtues, but it is nothing of the sort. I am living two lives — and it keeps me pretty busy. I have more personal vanity than modesty.”

Now, it seems as if Twain is honestly confessing his sinful, fallen nature, in a very striking and sincere (even profound) manner. But before you get the wrong idea about where Twain was headed with all of this, let me go back and finish that part of the paragraph I left out earlier… “The real life that I live, and the real life that I suppose all of you live, is a life of interior sin. That is what makes life valuable and pleasant! To lead a life of undiscovered sin! That is true joy!”

Twain concludes this speech (entitled “My Real Self”) with this line:  “I thank everybody for their compliments, but I don’t think I am praised any more than I am entitled to be.”

In the end, Mark Twain had a very flippant attitude toward the concept of sin.

But according to his Word, the Maker of heaven and earth does not.

For a while now our studies in the Faith category of our blog have been about the three most basic doctrines and most central themes of the Bible:  Creation, the Fall, and Redemption.

Most recently we’ve been looking at the effects of the Fall upon God’s good creation. Now we’ll begin to consider the effects of the Fall upon humanity in particular. Is it true that the “real life” we live is a life of “interior sin”? 

And if it is, is that really the definition of true joy… as Twain suggests?  Or is it a shame and misery from which God would have us redeemed?

*later on in the speech, Twain said: “I like compliments. I like to go home and tell them all over again to the members of my family. They don’t believe them, but I like to tell them in the home circle, all the same. I like to dream of them if I can.”

Some of Cornerstone’s single ladies enjoy hosting occasional slumber parties for the young girls of Cornerstone.  On this particular occasion most of the young girls were out of town for summer vacations, but those who were in town had a wonderful time, I’m told.  They made jewelry, crafts, ordered pizza, watched a movie, and the next morning they got up out of their sleeping bags and went to church together. 

This is the kind of thing that lays a foundation of beautiful relationships in the body of Christ, preparing the way for the kind of covenant–family dynamics that Paul mentions in Titus 2, where the older women are to train the younger women in godliness. 

That kind of discipling relationship requires love.  And love requires time and effort and attention.  For 6–8 year old girls, this means things like slumber parties. 

CPC – Cornerstone Presbyterian Church

MEN – adult male persons

BOYS – male children, from birth to full growth, esp. those less than 18 years of age

CAMP – a place where a group of persons is lodged in tents, as a temporary means of shelter

CANOE – a slender, open boat, tapering to a point on both ends, propelled by paddles

2008 – we intend to do this again next year