Archives For Vintage Saints

George_Whitefield_preaching

In all lawful marriages it is absolutely necessary, that the parties to be joined together in that holy and honourable estate are actually and legally freed from all pre-engagements whatsoever. ‘A woman is bound to her husband (saith the Apostle) so long as her husband liveth.’ The same law holds good in respect to the man. And so likewise, if either party be betrothed and promised, though not actually married to another, the marriage is not lawful, till that pre-engagement and promise be fairly and mutually dissolved.

Now, it is just thus between us and the Lord Jesus. For, we are all by nature born under and wedded to the law as a covenant of works. Hence it is that we are so fond of and artfully go about in order to establish a righteousness of our own. It is as natural for us to do this, as it is to breathe. Our first parents, Adam and Eve, even after the covenant of grace was revealed to them in that promise, ‘the seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent’s head’ reached out their hands and would again have taken hold of the tree of life, which they had forfeited, had not God driven them out of paradise and compelled them, as it were, to be saved by grace. And thus all their descendants naturally run to and want to be saved, partly at least, if not wholly, by their works. And even gracious souls, who are inwardly renewed, so far as the old man abides in them, find a strong propensity this way. Hence it is, that natural men are generally so fond of Arminian principles. ‘Do and live,’ is the native language of a proud, self-righteous heart.

George Whitefield, “Christ the Believer’s Husband,” The Sermons of George Whitefield (Kindle Edition)

Martyn Lloyd-Jones

There has been one in this world called Jesus of Nazareth, and it is he who says to you, “Let not your heart be troubled . . . believe in me,” which means, “Come to me, tell me your troubles, tell me all about your difficulty about God, the difficulty of prayer, the difficulty about your weak will and failure.”

I do not care what it is that makes you restless and ill at ease. It may be the possibility of war, it may be illness, it may be business troubles, it may be your own weakness morally in the realm of the will—whatever it is, whatever is troubling and making you unhappy, go to him about it. He is the one who loved you enough to die for you. He said, “Come unto me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest” (Matthew 11:28). There is no need for you to be unhappy and restless. Believe in God. Believe in the Son of God, the Lord Jesus Christ who came on earth to deliver you from that very thing and who has removed every barrier between you and God and who can give you rest and peace here and now.

Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled (Kindle Edition)

 

Martyn Lloyd-Jones

The trouble I find with psychology is that it is simply an attempt to give you quiet nerves instead of giving you a quiet heart. I want to be fair to psychology. It can give us, up to a point, quiet nerves, but that is not what we need—we need a quiet heart. Thank God for something that, as far as it goes, can give us quiet nerves, but do you want to be at rest on the surface or do you want to be at rest in the very depths and vitals of your being? It is at that point that the gospel claims that it, and it alone, can meet and satisfy our deepest need, and here in John 14 we are told exactly how it does that. . . .

What seems to me to be so entirely different about the gospel, at the very beginning, is that it always faces facts, it is always realistic, it never conceals anything. Read these chapters of John’s Gospel, and you will find that our Lord brought these men face-to-face with the very worst, whereas all the other teachings and philosophies try to hide the worst from us. My heart will not be really quiet until I have been told the very worst and faced it, and then I can surmount it. I do not believe in a teaching that simply plays tricks with me. I have no use for a philosophy that tells me there is no such thing as matter, and because of that there can be no pain, and therefore I do not have pain—when I know there is pain. I know that may work psychologically; it may convince me for a time—I believe the lie and am relieved. But I do not merely want to be relieved of my pain. I want the disease to be faced and tackled.

Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled (Kindle Edition)

machen

Science, it is said, is founded upon the regularity of sequences; it asumes that if certain conditions within the course of nature are given, certain other conditions will always follow. But if there is to be any intrusion of events which by their very definition are independent of all previous conditions, then, it is said, the regularity of nature upon which science bases itself is broken up. Miracle, in other words, seems to introduce an element of arbitrariness and unaccountability into the course of the world. The objection ignores what is really fundamental the Christian conception of miracle.

According to the Christian conception, a miracle is wrought by the immediate power of God. It is not wrought by an arbitrary and fantastic despot, but by the very God to whom the regularity of nature itself is due–by the God, moreover, whose character is known through the Bible. Such a God, we may be sure, will not do despite to the reason that He has given to His creatures; His interposition will introduce no disorder into the world that He has made. There is nothing arbitrary about a miracle, according to the Christian conception. It is not an uncaused event, but an event that is caused by the very source of all the order that is in the world. It is dependent altogether upon the least arbitrary and the most firmly fixed of all the things that are–namely upon the character of God.

J. Gresham Machen, Christianity and Liberalism (Kindle Edition)

Martyn Lloyd-Jones

I suppose that in many ways it can truthfully be said that the greatest need of men and women in this world is the need of what is called a quiet heart, a heart at leisure from itself.

Is that not, in the last analysis, the thing for which we are all looking? You can if you like call it peace; that means exactly the same thing, peace of mind and peace of heart, tranquillity. We are all restless; we are all disturbed. There is unhappiness in us, and it is produced by many different causes.

One thing that causes all our hearts to be restless and disturbed, one thing that robs everybody of peace, is the thought of death. This is a great and certain fact; in the words of the woman of Tekoah, “For we must needs die, and are as water spilt on the ground, which cannot be gathered up again” (2 Samuel 14:14). That is a most disturbing, a most troubling thought. The author of the Epistle to the Hebrews says that until we become Christians, we are all in lifelong “bondage . . . through fear of death” (Hebrews 2:15). Shakespeare, who knew the human heart, gives these words to Hamlet: “The dread of something after death, the undiscovered country, from whose bourn no traveller returns.”

“Conscience,” he adds, “doth make cowards of us all.” Yes, we do this and that, but thought of that “undiscovered country” upsets everything. That is the trouble and that is the cause of the restless, unquiet heart.

Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Let Not Your Heart Be Troubled (Kindle Edition)

machen

Jesus is an example not merely for the relations of man to man but also for the relation of man to God; imitation of Him may extend and must extend to the sphere of religion as well as to that of ethics. Indeed religion and ethics in Him were never separated; no single element in His life can be understood without reference to His heavenly Father. Jesus was the most religious man who ever lived; He did nothing and said nothing and thought nothing without the thought of God.

If His example means anything at all it means that a human life without the conscious presence of God–even though it be a life of humanitarian service outwardly like the ministry of Jesus–is a monstrous perversion. If we would follow truly in Jesus’ steps, we must obey the first commandment as well as the second that is like unto it; we must love the Lord our God with all our heart and soul and mind and strength.

The difference between Jesus and ourselves serves only to enforce, certainly not to invalidate, the lesson. If the One to whom all power was given needed refreshment and strengthening in prayer, we more; if the One to whom the lilies of the field revealed the glory of God yet went into the sanctuary, surely we need such assistance even more than He; if the wise and holy One could say “Thy will be done,” surely submission is yet more in place for us whose wisdom is as the foolishness of children.

J. Gresham Machen, Christianity and Liberalism (Kindle Edition)

In Him, Religion and Ethics Are Never Separated

machen

If our zeal for the greatness and uniqueness of Jesus led us so to separate Him from us that He could no longer be touched with the feeling of our infirmities, the result would be disastrous; Jesus’ coming would lose much of its significance. But . . . likeness is not always necessary to nearness. The experience of a father in his personal relation to his son is quite different from that of the son in his relation to his father; but just that very difference binds father and son all the more closely together.

The father cannot share the specifically filial affection of the son, and the son cannot share the specifically paternal affection of the father: yet no mere relationship of brotherhood, perhaps, could be quite so close. Fatherhood and sonship are complementary to each other; hence the dissimilarity, but hence also the closeness of the bond. It may be somewhat the same in the case of our relationship to Jesus. If He were exactly the same as ourselves, if He were merely our Brother, we should not be nearly so close to Him as we are when He stands to us in the relationship of a Savior.

J. Gresham Machen, Christianity and Liberalism (Kindle Edition)

Likeness is Not Always Necessary to Nearness

Jesus-Reaching-Out

“Which of you convinceth Me of sin?” is too low a question. Who can find in all His life a single lack, a single failure to set us a perfect example? In what difficulty of life, in what trial, in what danger or uncertainty, when we turn our eyes to Him, do we fail to find just the example that we need? And if perchance we are, by the grace of God, enabled to walk with Him but a step in the way, how our hearts burn within us with longing to be always with Him,—to be strengthened by the almighty power of God in the inner man, to make every footprint which He has left in the world a stepping-stone to climb upward over His divine path. Do we not rightly say that next to our longing to be in Christ is our corresponding longing to be like Christ; that only second in our hearts to His great act of obedience unto death by which He became our Saviour, stands His holy life in our world of sin, by which He becomes our example?

B.B. Warfield, “Imitating the Incarnation” (as published in Sermons and Essays from the Works of B.B. Warfield)

Too Low a Question

cross-trees

Sincerity must be the stamp of my Christian profession. Though utterly unable to render perfect obedience to the least of the commandments, yet my desire end purpose will have respect unto them all. I shall no more venture to break the least than the greatest of them; much less shall I ever think of attempting to atone for the breach of one by the performance of the rest. They are indeed many commandments; yet-like links in a chain-they form but one law; and I know who has said, “Whoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, he is guilty of all.” However the professor may confine his regard to the second table (as if the first were ceremonial, or obsolete, or the regulation of the outward man was the utmost extent of the requirement,) I would fix my eye with equal regard to both; yet specially marking any command in either of them; that may appear most directly opposed to my besetting corruptions. Thus “walking in the fear of the Lord,” I may hope to walk “in the comfort of the Holy Spirit” and “hereby shall I know that I am of the truth, and shall assure my heart before God.”

Charles Bridges, Exposition Of Psalm 119

The Stamp of My Christian Profession

Benjamin Breckinridge Warfield [1851-1921]

Every redeemed soul, knowing himself reconciled with God through His Son, and quickened into newness of life by His Spirit, turns alike to Father, Son and Spirit with the exclamation of reverent gratitude upon his lips, “My Lord and my God!” If he could not construct the doctrine of the Trinity out of his consciousness of salvation, yet the elements of his consciousness of salvation are interpreted to him and reduced to order only by the doctrine of the Trinity which he finds underlying and giving their significance and consistency to the teaching of the Scriptures as to the processes of salvation. By means of this doctrine he is able to think clearly and consequently of his threefold relation to the saving God, experienced by Him as Fatherly love sending a Redeemer, as redeeming love executing redemption, as saving love applying redemption: all manifestations in distinct methods and by distinct agencies of the one seeking and saving love of God. Without the doctrine of the Trinity, his conscious Christian life would be thrown into confusion and left in disorganization if not, indeed, given an air of unreality; with the doctrine of the Trinity, order, significance and reality are brought to every element of it. Accordingly, the doctrine of the Trinity and the doctrine of redemption, historically, stand or fall together.

B.B. Warfield, “The Biblical Doctrine of the Trinity” (as published in Sermons and Essays from the Works of B.B. Warfield)

Trinity and Redemption: Standing or Falling Together