Andy Farmer

Pondering the Passage of Time

The past isn’t a museum, it is happening every moment we live. We are creating our past every moment. How we understand the past is a very present concern. We need to be discerning in understanding the past. And we need to be mindful that our present lives are adding to the past we are accumulating.

I recently turned that magical age of 65, where the social services part of our government suddenly becomes very important. When I think about my life at this point, I’m very aware that the thing I have most of is my past. It seems like aging is simply the rapid accumulation of the past through wanton spending of an ever-decreasing supply of the future. The question is, what do we do with the past we’ve accumulated? Is the past an asset or a liability? How do we draw on the past for good use? How can a poor use of the past hinder our present and our future? These are questions of increasing urgency to people my age—maybe any age.
The Past Is the Human Experience of Time
Here’s a question that may seem dumb but is actually pretty important. How do we know there is a past? The obvious answer is that we know there is a past because we experience the passage of time. But that doesn’t solve the question. Where does time come from?
The perception of the passage of time is a distinctively human experience. God is eternal—timeless. Everything He creates exists in time. “In the beginning” (Gen. 1:1) does not refer to the beginning of God; it is the beginning of creation. Creation is time-constrained, while God is outside of time.
All of creation records the passage of time. Trees grow over time. Sharp rocks become smooth stones through weathering over time. Animals instinctively know when to build nests, when to hibernate, and when to migrate. But humans are the only creatures who conceptualize time, who “count” the passage of time. God called Adam to exercise dominion over creation—to tend it for good. One of the ways we do that is to manage life according to time. Days and seasons and years and centuries and epochs and millenniums, as well as hours and seconds and nanoseconds, are measurements we use to make sense of our existence in the exercise of dominion.
And we’re constantly monkeying with time. Anyone who has a spouse who watches a lot of sports knows not to trust when you hear, “I’ll be there in a second; there’s only two minutes left in the game!”
Think about it another way. How many of us can think back to what happened while we were asleep at 4 am this morning? Things didn’t stop happening when we fell asleep last night. We just don’t have any memory of it because sleep is a human state that stops tracking time.
God relates to us through time. We are not Buddhists, finding enlightenment in escape from the constraints of time.
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The Getting of Wisdom

There’s a big difference between “our days are numbered” and “numbering our days.” Acknowledging that our days are numbered is just assenting to the fact that we won’t be around forever. Numbering our days is the biblical wisdom that seeks to squeeze God-fearing insight out of all the days we occupy this life as we see them in light of God’s eternal purposes for us in this world.

We have all kinds of ways to measure ourselves. We have scales to measure our weight. We have thermometers to measure our temperature. We have blood tests to measure all kinds of things. We have charts to measure our body fat index—why would any of us want to do that?! Beyond our physical state, we can measure our financial condition, retirement planning, insurance needs, and how many steps we take each day.
We are a culture obsessed with assessment. In addition to physical assessments, these days, there are all kinds of tests to measure our personality, emotional state, intellect, productivity, and relational capacities.
Do you know what we’ve never been able to find a tool to measure? Our wisdom. How do you know if you’re wise or not? Are you as wise as you need to be? In a time when we seem to admire people who speak their minds and do things their own way, are we admiring wisdom? How do we measure that?
I sat on a jury one time in a very serious criminal case. Over the five-day trial, all the jurors spent a lot of time together. One guy was really clever and had snappy things to say about everything. His humor made the week a lot easier. When we reached the end of the trial and needed to choose a foreperson, the jury members voted for him because he had been the most popular member. He was terrible—all he knew how to do was be funny. In fact, the jury had overlooked another person with experience as a jurist in favor of someone they all liked.
Fortunately, the joking juror had the humility to recognize he wasn’t up to the task, and we elected the one member who had done this before. It was sobering. As a jury, we didn’t rightly measure wisdom, and it could have been very costly for a just outcome to the trial.
The Bible doesn’t allow us to make that mistake. It commends wisdom at every turn. But it does more than that. The Bible commands us to get wisdom.
The beginning of wisdom is this: Get wisdom, and whatever you get, get insight (Prov. 4:7).
In the biblical view, we all begin simple—we lack wisdom. But over time, we must seek to accumulate wisdom in life. Those who do are called wise. Those who don’t are called fools.
How do we get wisdom? The Scriptures offer two ways.
We Receive Wisdom as a Gift
We read in James 1:5, “If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask of God, who gives generously, who gives generously without finding fault.”
This way of getting wisdom isn’t my primary focus here.
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Born-Again Founder: The Gracious Conviction of Elias Boudinot

As Americans celebrate our nation’s founding on July 4, we remember the group of disparate leaders who came together in Philadelphia in the middle of the 1770s to forge enough unity to set thirteen individual colonies on the road to nationhood. What we have in the Declaration of Independence (itself primarily a document listing disagreements with the English government) came together with much contention and political wrangling. These founding leaders had much in common, but that commonality was put to the test over differences in regional interests, economic concerns, and political philosophy.

Different religious convictions also came into play. While most of the members of the Continental Congress were required to hold to basic Christian truths in order to serve in public office, their denominational commitments and doctrinal distinctives played in the background of the formal debates leading up to the ratification of the Declaration, and those tensions carried on into the founding era of the nation.

It is not hard for us to see in our rancorous times how political and religious differences intertwine as they did in our founding era. What was often in short supply then, as it seems to be now, is a model for holding differences in principles and convictions that do not undermine “the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace,” which sets the people of God apart in a fractured world (Ephesians 4:3).

Among that group of eighteenth-century disparate leaders, however, I did find an unusual founder — in my estimation, a model still worth considering. His name is Elias Boudinot.

Uncommonly Christian

Boudinot (1740–1821) is an important but little-known member of America’s founding generation. He grew up a child of the Great Awakening, sitting under the preaching of George Whitefield, Gilbert Tennent, and, for a brief time, Jonathan Edwards in Princeton. He rose to prominence in New Jersey politics and was a man of national influence in the lead up to the American Revolution. During the war, Boudinot served on George Washington’s staff and later in the Continental Congress; he was also president of the Congress at the signing of the Treaty of Paris to end the war. Boudinot was a major player in the first three federal congresses and then served in the administrations of Washington, John Adams, and Thomas Jefferson.

After retiring from public service in 1805, he spent the last decade and a half of his life supporting gospel mission in the states and abroad. His lasting legacy was his formative role in establishing the American Bible Society.

“Boudinot endeavored to lead an honorable life of consistent and ardent Christian faith.”

Throughout all of his public engagements, Boudinot endeavored to lead an honorable life of consistent and ardent Christian faith. Historian James Hutson, who has spent years studying the religious thoughts and lives of the founders, writes, “Boudinot is of particular importance, because he was a born-again Presbyterian, whose evangelical views were probably closer to those of the majority of his countrymen than were those of most of his fellow Founders.”1

Man of Gracious Convictions

Boudinot caught his view of God and the world in the great evangelical revival of the mid-eighteenth century, and he never deviated from the path of his early convictions. At the age of 18, he wrote to his friend William Tennent III,

May the Lord grant that we may make a proper use of the short time we have yet remaining. I can’t but record the great goodness of my gracious Protector as well as Preserver, in granting me restraining grace in my youth, and discovering the inestimable worth of an offered Savior unto me. I bless my God for the great hope that is wrought in us, by the resurrection of our Lord Jesus Christ from the dead, without which this life would be an intolerable burden, an inconceivable load of anxiety and despair, for vain are the days of man.2

Then, sixty years later, he would testify in his will to his

firm, unfeigned, and prevailing belief in one sovereign, omnipotent, and eternal Jehovah, a God of infinite love and mercy . . . [who] has been and is still reconciling a guilty world unto himself by his righteousness and atonement, his death and his resurrection, through whom, alone, life and immortality have been brought to light in his gospel, and, by all the powerful influences of his Holy Spirit, is daily sanctifying, enlightening, and leading his faithful people into all necessary truth.3

Boudinot did not cloister himself away from conflict and disagreement, however. An attorney by vocation, he made arguments for a living. He was a patriot, an identified member of the colonial elites who chose to rebel against the most powerful nation in his world. During the war, it fell to him to wrangle with the British over the treatment of captured American soldiers, who were treated not like prisoners of war but as traitors. In government, Boudinot was closely tied to Alexander Hamilton, the most polarizing politician of his era. He was also a committed abolitionist, which put him in unresolvable opposition with half of his country.

How might Elias Boudinot teach us, more than two centuries later, to stand on our own convictions with a firm but gracious disposition?

‘One Lord and Master’

First, Boudinot tended to major on what unites and not what divides.

Boudinot never wavered in his own doctrinal convictions, which were thoroughly Calvinistic. Yet the effect of the Bible’s good news on his life played out in both strong personal convictions and a gracious spirit that looked first for commonalities, not division. His interactions with those with whom he differed on issues of faith consistently displayed the biblical call to “pursue what makes for peace and for mutual upbuilding” (Romans 14:19). It was a lifelong impulse.

When he was 18, he wrote to a friend, “What a glorious Prospect (said I to myself) would it afford, if mankind in general would unite together, in living harmony and concord, and endeavor to make every circumstance of life tend to the common advantage.”4 Nearly sixty years later, he expressed his enduring desire to “pare off the rough points of party and conciliate minds of those who ought to consider themselves of one family, acknowledging one Lord and Master.”5

“Boudinot tended to look for what unites and not what divides.”

This Christian impulse toward unity when possible would serve him well in the public positions he held during the Revolution and beyond. It would also be a driving motivation late in life, leading him to gather support from across the Christian landscape to form the American Bible Society.

‘Truly Reviving to His People’

Second, Boudinot welcomed evidence of God’s activity even when he differed with those in whom he observed it.

Boudinot was a lifelong friend of the Anabaptist Quakers, seeing in them a piety that he aspired to emulate, though he disagreed deeply on important doctrinal points. Later in life, when the Second Great Awakening broke out in the early 1800s, though leaders in his denomination reacted with concern over its crowd-gathering practices and populist theology, Boudinot watched with fascination. While he shared their cautions, Boudinot had learned firsthand from his father and the leaders of the First Great Awakening to look for authentic spiritual fruit wherever it might be found.

In a letter written in the middle of the War of 1812, we get a glimpse of Boudinot’s mature view of the Christian revival experience.

Blessed be God, who in the midst of judgement remembereth mercy. Although our country is involved in a ruinous offensive war, yet is he proving to his church that he has not altogether forsaken us. The pouring out of his Spirit in various parts of the United States, is truly reviving to his people who stand between the porch and the altar, crying, Lord save thy people. In the eastern parts of New York, in Vermont and Connecticut, the revivals are more interesting than has ever been known. In Philadelphia, the appearances are very promising, and generally speaking in these parts, although there are no appearances of remarkable revivals, yet there is a growing attention to the ordinances of the gospel. Bless the Lord, O our souls, and let all that is within us bless his holy name.6

‘Hearts May Agree, Though Heads Differ’

Third, Boudinot valued denominational fidelity without succumbing to denominational sectarianism.

Boudinot was a man of national prominence for nearly five decades. By the end of his life, he was a revered statesman and a driving influence in Christian mission. But he was at heart a churchman who expressed his religious convictions throughout his life. He was a founding trustee of the Presbyterian General Assembly and was moderator of the assembly at the time of his death. He was also a trustee of the Presbyterian College of New Jersey for nearly half a century, and played a significant role in the formation of Princeton Seminary.

In retiring to Burlington, New Jersey, where there was no Presbyterian church, he could have simply enjoyed his wide range of Presbyterian associations. Instead, he joined the church across the street, St. Mary’s Episcopal, where his participation was lively and committed until the end of his life. A prominent Presbyterian joining an Episcopal church was eyebrow-raising in his day, but Boudinot’s actions demonstrated his large heart and vision for the church of Christ beyond its various and often competing expressions. He wrote to the pastor of his former Presbyterian church about his view of denominational differences,

Hearts may agree, though heads differ. There may be unity of Spirit, if not of opinion, and it is always an advantage to entertain a favorable opinion of those who differ from us in our religious sentiments. It tends to nourish Christian charity. I welcome with cordial and entire satisfaction everything that tends to approximate one denomination of Christians to another, being persuaded that he who is a conscientious believer in Christ cannot be a bad man.7

In a day where the church is wrestling with how to engage the society (and often internal differences) with Christian conviction and conduct, the example of Elias Boudinot can provide a much-needed perspective. Even in times of contention, we can stand with conviction without forfeiting a gracious and peace-loving spirit, and the very conduct commended by Christ and his apostles.

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