The Pugilist: What the Gargantuan Effects tell us of Him whose Advent Was so Humble

The rise of Christianity was a phenomenon of too little apparent significance to attract the attention of the great world. It was only when it had refused to be quenched in the blood of its founder, and, breaking out of the narrow bounds of the obscure province in which it had its origin, was making itself felt in the centers of population, that it drew to itself a somewhat irritated notice. The interest of such heathen writers as mention it was in the movement, not in its author. But in speaking of the movement they tell something of its author, and what they tell is far from being of little moment. – B.B. Warfield in Jesus Christ

Old Princeton for New Calvinist

If you find yourself enjoying the quotes I throw at you from B.B. Warfield this year you may also want to start reading The Gospel Coalition blog as they will be doing a year long series on Old Princeton. Click here to read the first installment.

The Pugilist: Fight For Words

Stick through the quote for the last paragraph.

You see, that what we are doing today as we look out upon our current religious modes of speech, is assisting at the death bed of a word. It is sad to witness the death of any worthy thing, even of a worthy word. And worthy words do die, like any other worthy thing–if we do not take good care of them. How many worthy words have already died under our very eyes, because we did not take care of them! Tennyson calls our attention to one of them. The grand old name of gentleman,” he sings, “defamed by every charalatan, and soil’d with all ignoble use.” If you persist in calling people who are not gentleman by the name of gentleman, you do not make them gentleman by so calling them, but you end up making the word gentleman that kind of people.

…If everything that is called Christianity in these days is Christianity, then there is no such thing as Christianity. A name applied indiscriminately to everything, designates nothing.

The words ‘Redeem,’ ‘Redemption,’ ‘Redeemer’ are going the same way. When we use these terms in so comprehensive a sense…that we understand by “Redemption” whatever benefit we suppose ourselves to receive through Christ,–no matter what we happen to think that benefit is–and call Him “Redeemer” merely in order to express the fact that we somehow or other relate this benefit to Him–no matter how loosely or unessentially – we have simply evacuated the terms of all meaning, and would do better to wipe them out of our vocabulary.

I think you will agree with me that it is a sad thing to see words like these die like this. And I hope you will determine that, God helping you, you will not let them die thus, if any care on your part can preserve them in life and vigor. But the dying of the words is not the saddest thing which we see here. The saddest thing is the dying out of the hearts of men of the things for which the words stand.  – B.B. Warfield in “Redeemer” and “Redemption”

Hero: 2012

I don’t believe the Bible is a book of heroes. The Bible does have heroes in it, but that is not what it is about. It is a book about the Hero. Nonetheless, I do believe in having heroes, and I believe it is Biblical to have them.

Heroes are not perfect, and thus they point us to Christ in three ways. Their faults (weaknesses and sins) point us to the Savior that they, and we, all need. With this foundation we learn two further truths concerning their strengths. First, they are a result of God’s gifting and working in them such that He gets all the glory. Second, their strengths also point us to Jesus by whom they are graded – Jesus is the ultimate curve breaker. All heroes are judged in relation to Him.

Every year I single out one hero to study in particular. This year I will study the life and works of B.B. Warfield. He was born the son of a farmer on November 5, 1851 near Lexington Kentucky.

Warfield was fighter. While attending Princeton College he got into a fight following an afternoon lecture in front of the chapel. The reason – Warfield had drawn a picture of another student that was passed around the class. The picture wasn’t flattering so they fought. The fight evidently didn’t amount to much because no action was taken by the school, but Warfield’s reputation as a fighter stuck.

Warfield was a champion for the authority and inerrancy of the Word of God and many precious doctrines taught therein. He primarily fought with his pen and by teaching students at Princeton Seminary where he taught for 34 years instructing more than 2,700 students. But he was a gentleman fighter. Primarily he attacked ideas, not persons. This isn’t to say that his arguments didn’t sting or were void of sarcasm, but he was fair.

And yet there was a tenderness in this man that allowed him to fight so tenaciously. At 25 he married Annie Peirce Kinkead and while on their honeymoon she was struck by lightning. She was a semi-invalid the rest of her life. Warfield rarely left her side for more than two hours. Because he was tied so closely to home by love, this freed him to fight with his pen for the glory of God and the edification of our souls.

Every week I will post some gleanings from Warfield. All such posts will be marked, “The Pugilist,” a nickname given to him in those early college years and an identity sanctified by God.

The Sweet Dropper: He is Our Portion

There is in him to supply all good and remove all ill, until the time come that we stand in need of no other good. It is our chief wisdom to know him, our holiness to love him, our happiness to enjoy him. There is in him to be had whatsoever can truly make us happy. We go to our treasure and our portion in all our wants; we live by it and value ourselves by it. God is such a portion, that the more we spend on him the more we may. ‘Our strength may fail, and our heart may fail, but God is our portion for ever,’ Ps. Ixxiii. 26. – Richard Sibbes in The Soul’s Conflict with Itself

The Sweet Dropper: More Sure to Rise from the Grave than the Bed

But the greatest trial of trust is in our last encounter with death, wherein we shall find not only a deprivation of all comforts in this life, but a confluence of all ill at once; but we must know, God will be the God of his unto death, and not only unto death, but in death. We may trust God the Father with our bodies and souls which he hath created; and God the Son with the bodies and souls which he hath redeemed; and the Holy Spirit with those bodies and souls that he hath sanctified. We are not disquieted when we put off our clothes and go to bed, because we trust God’s ordinary providence to raise us up again. And why should we be disquieted when we put off our bodies and sleep our last sleep, considering we are more sure to rise out of our graves than out of our beds? Nay, we are raised up already in Christ our Head, ‘who is the resurrection and the life,’ John xi. 25, in whom we may triumph over death, that triumpheth over the greatest monarchs, as a disarmed and conquered enemy. Death is the death of itself, and not of us.  – Richard Sibbes in The Soul’s Conflict with Itself

The Sweet Dropper: Your Corruption Least When You Feel It Most

Many out of a misconceit think that corruption is greatest when they feel it most, whereas indeed, the less we see it and lament it, the more it is. Sighs and groans of the soul are like the pores of the body, out of which in diseased persons sick humours break forth and so become less. The more we see and grieve for pride, which is an immediate issue of our corrupted nature, the less it is, because we see it by a contrary grace; the more sight the more hatred, the more hatred of sin, the more love of grace, and the more love the more life, which the more lively it is, the more it is sensible of the contrary. Upon every discovery and conflict corruption loses some ground, and grace gains upon it.  – Richard Sibbes in The Soul’s Conflict with Itself

The Sweet Dropper: How to Frame your Complaints

We see likewise here, how to frame our complaints. David complains not of God, nor of his troubles, nor of others, but of his own soul; he complains of himself to himself, as if he should say, Though all things else be out of order, yet, O my soul, thou shouldst not trouble me too, thou shouldst not betray thyself unto troubles, but rule over them. A godly man complains to God, yet not of God, but of himself. A carnal man is ready to justify himself and complain of God, he complains not to God, but of God, at the least, in secret murmuring, he complains of others that are but God’s vials; he complains of the grievance that lies upon him, but never regards what is amiss in himself within; openly he cries out upon fortune, yet secretly he striketh at God, under that idol of fortune, by whose guidance all things come to pass; whilst he quarrels with that which is nothing, he wounds him that is the cause of all things; like a gouty man that complains of his shoe, and of his bed, or an aguish man of his drink, when the cause is from within. So men are disquieted with others, when they should rather be disquieted and angry with their own hearts.  – Richard Sibbes in The Soul’s Conflict with Itself

The Sweet Dropper: The Art of Bearing Burdens

There is an art or skill of bearing troubles, if we could learn it, without overmuch troubling of ourselves, as in bearing of a burden there is a way so to poise it that it weigheth not over heavy: if it hangs all on one side, it poises the body down. The greater part of our troubles we pull upon ourselves, by not parting our care so, as to take upon us only the care of duty, and leave the rest to God; and by mingling our passions with our crosses, and like a foolish patient, chewing the pills which we should swallow down. We dwell too much upon the grief, when we should remove the soul higher. We are nearest neighbours unto ourselves. When we suffer grief, like a canker, to eat into the soul, and like a fire in the bones, to consume the marrow and drink up the spirits, we are accessory to the wrong done both to our bodies and souls: we waste our own candle, and put out our light.  – Richard Sibbes inThe Soul’s Conflict with Itself