R.C. Sproul once said, “The cultural revolution of the 1960’s was similar to the French Revolution in that its goal was to bring radical change to the forms, structures, values, and ethics of the status quo. It sought to bring in a New Age with the dawning of the Age of Aquarius. Now the dawn of the New Age is long past. Aquarius is now at high noon.”[1] He wrote those words only six years ago, which means that Aquarius is still at high noon. It means that the dawning of the Pagan Age is still long past. Sproul’s words beckon the question, “Why did it take Aquarius reaching high noon for the Reformed and Evangelical Church to get so hot and bothered by it?”
You can see the growth of the New Religion in covenantal terms (Adam, Abraham, Moses, David). The cultural revolution of the 60’s was the Adamic Administration, “Be fruitful and multiply and fill the earth with hippy love.” John Lennon supplied the Abrahamic promises—
Imagine there’s no heaven. it’s easy if you tryNo hell below us, above us only sky 
You may say I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only oneI hope someday you’ll join us, and the world will live as one
I have spoken of the recent rise of Social Justice as the Mosaic Administration of Paganism. The New Religion has reached its Mount Sinai, and down from that unholy mountain has come the creature-law of intersectionality, critical theory, and all of that social justice tomfoolery. Adherents of the new religion have heard, and they believe, that if they simply obey these laws, then they will enter the Promised Land. A significant step toward a Pagan Davidic Administration can be seen with the recent Orwellian governmental tyranny as the state begins to enforce iniquitous and arbitrary standards. Some Christians are already denying any necessity for human law to accord with divine revelation and preparing to obey whatever despotic mandates civil authority decrees. The point is, we are a good deal down the line and if you’re going to fight well, then it helps to know where you are on the battlefield.
Over the past few years, the Evangelical and Reformed world has been full of debate, literature, conferences, and statements surrounding social justice, critical theory, wokeness, etc. It is clear where some leaders and organizations stand. It is not entirely clear which side of the fault line others are on. Neither is it clear, depending on how broad you draw the lines, whether the woke or the un-woke have more numbers. But, it is clear that you could now write the book Not Woke Church and likely sell a good number of copies. In the first place, let us praise the Lord. Amen to the church identifying idols and staying away from them. And in the second place, caution is in order. For there is now a market for Not Woke. And Big Eva knows a market when she sees one.
But we must know repentance and hard work more than markets. Aquarius never should have made it to high noon. If we had been walking in the true light, then there would have been no room for the dawning of another. If we had done biblical justice, then there would have been no room for social justice. If we had cooked up Christian community, then there would have been no taste for the faux allegiances sold along all of those intersections. If we had been clothed in the armor of God in battle array against the forces of darkness, then we wouldn’t have safe places for the training of ministers on our seminary campuses. If we had been adorning the doctrine of God with true manhood and womanhood, then the North American Mission Board wouldn’t be supporting all of the women preachers. And if we had confessed and taught that Jesus is King of Kings, then there would be no talk about governmentally mandated pinwheels.
We need a return to the root (Christ) and a flourishing of the fruit (Christ’s kingdom).
So Not Woke is not enough. If you don’t like the function of wokeness, then you must also despise the organ of wokeness. If you don’t like the function of wokeness, then you must want the function of Christ’s kingdom. And if you want the function of Christ’s kingdom, then you must have the organ of that kingdom. It is the organ that gives rise to the function—”In a sort of ghastly simplicity we remove the organ and demand the function. We make men without chests and expect of them virtue and enterprise. We laugh at honor and are shocked to find traitors in our midst. We castrate and bid the geldings be fruitful.”[2]
Many evangelicals are just coming to realize that they don’t like the function of paganism. They want the function of Christianity. They want things to be the way they were in those bygone good-ole days when we paid attention to the laws of nature and nature’s God. But, we have not perceived the root of the matter. We are far too superficial. We have not identified either of the organs at play. One of those organs is the living Christ, and a return to Him is the only way out of the mess we are in. The other of those organs is the devil himself and his various idols, which like their leader are all broken and doomed.
There are plenty of Americans who are Not Woke and Not Christian. And that should be enough to prove the point that Not Woke is not enough. Yes, there is a place for cobelligerents. But, do not mistake a cobelligerent for an ally; and do not think that Christless Conservatives know the way out of the pit we are in. The way out is Christ and His kingdom. The former precedes the latter and the latter must follow the former. Many want the latter without the former and others want the former without the latter. But neither of those options will do.
In short, we need a return to the root (Christ) and a flourishing of the fruit (Christ’s kingdom). We need this amid the flourishing of paganism and its rotten fruit. We need this while many unbelieving conservatives want the fruit without the root; and many evangelical Christians want the root without the fruit. The message is the same to both of these groups: Not Woke is not enough. You must awake—”Awake, O sleeper, and rise from the dead, and Christ will shine upon you” (Ephesians 5:14). Then, being awake, you must go on with living.
We have had many leaders who, like Azariah, have failed to press the crown rights of King Jesus all the way out to the high places—”And he did what was right in the eyes of the Lord, according to all that his father Amaziah had done. Nevertheless, the high places were not taken away. The people still sacrificed and made offerings on the high places” (2 Kings 15:3-4). What we are experiencing is not the rise of new idols. It is rather the metastasizing of the idols which we have permitted out on the high places for years. Saying that you will not offer their drink offerings of blood is good, but it is not enough.
It is time to cut down the groves. And set up altars over every square inch to the living God.
To that end, pray for the Institute of Public Theology. Classes have begun this very week. The Lord has gathered men who appear to have understanding of the times, to know what Israel ought to do (1 Chronicles 12:32).

[1] Foreward to The Other Worldview by Peter Jones.
[2] C. S. Lewis, Abolition of Man

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’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear,  And grace my fears relieved;How precious did that grace appear  The hour I first believed!

This second stanza of John Newton’s “Amazing Grace” provides Christians with a rich and subtle insight into the nature of God’s saving work in the lives of believers. The verses encourage us to consider God’s providence over both the universal, objective elements of conversion – the new birth, including conviction of sin, repentance, and faith – but also over the subjective, particular circumstances of that conversion: the events, conversations, and degrees of the conviction that all believers feel. All are under the sovereignty of God in working out His purpose to save His people.

What might surprise the reader upon closer examination of the hymn is the stanza’s first line: “’Twas grace that taught my heart to fear, And grace my fears relieved.” What is interesting about this line is that it at least implies that the same grace which prompts fear answers that fear. But how can the grace of God prompt fear? The fear Newton mentions is spurred by recognition of the Law’s demands and the wrath of God imminent upon a sinner. The Scriptures reinforce this fear of God’s wrath. As far back as the Exodus, Moses observes, “Who considers the power of your anger, and your wrath according to the fear of You?” (Psalm 90:11-12). In the New Testament, the writer of Hebrews rhetorically declares, “It is a fearful thing to fall into the hands of the living God” (Heb. 10:31). This fear from God’s righteous standards is succinctly articulated by Abraham Booth, the great English Particular Baptist:

“[W]hen the Spirit of God convinces of sin by the holy law, and manifests its extensive    demands to the conscience of the sinner; when he is informed that every sin subjects the offender to a dreadful curse; then his fears are alarmed and his endeavours are quickened…for now, guilt burdens his soul, and conscience sharpens her sting; while the terrors of the Almighty seem to be set in array against him. The duties he has neglected, the mercies he has abused, and the daring acts of rebellion he has committed against his divine Sovereign, crowd in upon his mind and rack his very soul.”[i]

But again, how can fear be gracious? It is gracious in hindsight when considered as part of the process through which God redeems a Christian. It could be said that God prepares a person for salvation through an awareness of the guilt and judgment impending upon him as a sinner before God. The fear of God’s Law can precede the comfort of God’s Gospel as day follows night.

Newton’s own life and conversion provides a concrete example of just this kind of providential work. While a sailor at sea, living in “carnal security,”[ii] Newton was awoken by a violent storm that threatened to sink them, and though working frantically to exhaustion to save the ship, he despaired of any hope of deliverance:

“As he was returning, [Newton] said, almost without meaning, ‘If this will not do, the Lord have mercy upon us!’…[s]truck with his own words, it directly occurred to him, What mercy can there be for me!”[iii]

Ultimately, the ship and crew were spared, but it was through these circumstances that Newton came to reflect on the Scripture’s teaching of his need for Christ and the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit within him, and during this trial became a follower of Jesus. Yet, it should be clear, it was not ultimately physical death that concerned Newton – he was terrified that, were the Scriptures true, his soul would be lost, condemned before a holy God. It was precisely this experience of fear before the terror of God’s holy wrath that John Newton learned about the allaying power of the Gospel.

Nor is Newton’s life an anomaly in redemptive history. The book of Acts especially provides examples of fear preceding the comfort found only in Christ. There is the record of Pentecost. After hearing Peter’s preaching, the Jews were “cut to the heart” (Acts 2:37) – that is, they were filled with anxiety and remorse over the realization that they had been responsible for crucifying the Lord’s Christ.[iv] In their desperation they cried out for some source of hope – “Brothers, what shall we do?” – recognizing that they had no apparent hope for redemption against the God they had offended. Yet they received the words of Peter to repent of their sins and became devoted to the apostles’ teaching and fellowship (2:42). Another example can be found in the Philippian jailer. He too, upon learning of Paul and Silas’ presence in the cell, became filled with fear and trembling, and not merely due to his concern for his life, but clearly through the witness of their praying and singing hymns (Acts 16:25).

The idea that God prepares sinners for conversion prior to regeneration has roots in Protestant history. Particularly during the Puritan era, as Scriptural truths were being rediscovered and developed, it was a topic of discussion how much of God’s illumination merely convicted of sin and how much actually saved a person.[v] They astutely observed that Law works in the hearts of men so as to deprive them of any sense of hope to stand before God in their own righteousness and power, and it is through that helplessness that the sweetness of the Gospel message is tasted. For example, in Bunyan’s The Pilgrim’s Progress, we see in the early pages that the pilgrim Christian is tormented by the burden of his sin lashed to his back. He is aware of his guilt, and desires to be free of its ponderous weight. Yet it will be some time in the narrative before Christian is free of his burden. In fact, it will not be removed until he enters the Wicket Gate and the place of deliverance beyond. Consequently, the reader may infer that, though we cannot know for certain how long it is, there is sometimes distance between a believer’s awareness of his burden (the fear of God’s Law) and that burden’s removal (the power of the Gospel to save).

Yet this fearful sensitivity, called conviction of sin, cannot be identical with regeneration. It is not clear merely from conviction whether the Spirit’s work is completed, or whether this constitutes earthly fears of heavenly realities now considered. John Owen, reflecting on the work of the Spirit in regeneration, observes, “ordinarily there are certain previous and preparatory works, or workings in and upon the souls of men, that are antecedent and dispositive unto it. But yet regeneration doth not consist in them, nor can it be educed out of them.”[vi] Newton himself concurs, “We may be unable to judge with certainty upon the first appearance of a religious profession, whether the work be thus deep and spiritual or not; but ‘the Lord knows them that are his.”[vii] Though the outside fear may not be infallible as to its origin, it is nevertheless true that such fears can be and often are expressive of a heart in the process of being converted. This makes the nature of when regeneration takes place imprecise. The divine aspect of regeneration, the work of God, is internal; we only see external aspects – conviction of sin, repentance, faith in Christ. The new birth, in Jonathan Edwards’ words, may come in “a confused chaos…exceeding mysterious and unsearchable.”[viii] B. H. Carroll further articulates this imprecision:

 “[c]onviction, repentance, and faith are the constituent elements of regeneration; that is, they are the elements within our range of vision. We can see only the under side of what is above us. When we describe it, we describe it as we see it. As the view is partial, the description is partial.”[ix]

Occasionally, some Puritans steered into language and concepts of God’s convicting work prior to conversion that were unhelpful and imbalanced. A particularly famous example is the New England Puritan Thomas Hooker. In some of his works he asserted that an acute sense of fear from God’s Law is a necessary qualification to repentance and faith: “[the pre-regenerate person] must be a lost man in his own apprehension…All men must thus be disposed before they can be saved.”[x] However, many contemporaries challenged Hooker’s suggestion that godly terror must first precede regeneration. From the earlier quote from Owen, we can see how he qualifies his observations with the word “ordinarily.” Preparatory works resulting in fear can certainly be present, but that is not a necessary precondition for the Spirit to work. Notably, the early Particular Baptist William Kiffen found Hooker’s thoughts distasteful, and his thoughts are reflected in Article 25 of the First London Baptist Confession of 1644 (1646 revision): “The preaching of the gospel to the conversion of sinners, is absolutely free; no way requiring as absolutely necessary, any qualifications, preparations, or terrors of the law, or preceding ministry of the law.”[xi]

More recent Christian theologians, especially after the First Great Awakening, have concurred with this hesitancy toward a unilateral experience prior to salvation. The thoughts of Archibald Alexander, living in the generation subsequent to the labors of Edwards, Whitefield, Rowland, and Wesley, summarize this consensus. After observing the idea of legal conviction (being convicted of the law’s curse) had “generally prevailed in all our modern revivals: and it is usually taken for granted, that the convictions experienced are prior to regeneration,” he then states, “But it would be very difficult to prove from Scripture, or from the nature of the case, that such a preparatory work was necessary.”[xii] In the present day Sinclair Ferguson observes, “Because God sees what he intends to produce in us and through is as his children, he exposes us to differing levels of conviction. Some like Peter’s sermon on Pentecost, are under conviction for minutes; others, like Paul, perhaps for days; yet others go through a dark night of the soul which seems interminable, like Bunyan and Luther before him.”[xiii]

These historical-theological accounts invite the question: if conviction of sin is a part of salvation – one sign of regeneration – why is it not essential prior to salvation? Further, how can some experience the conviction of sin and its attendant fear more acutely than others? Why do some not experience the degree of fear Newton summarizes so well in “Amazing Grace”? The answer to this lies in understanding what might be called universal and particular aspects of salvation. Every Christian is saved in accordance with God’s eternal electing plan, the universal character of this saving work between the God who redeems and the person who is redeemed. All sinners are hopeless in themselves to be saved. All three Persons of the Godhead participate in a person’s being brought from death to life; the work of the incarnate Son, accomplished in His earthly ministry, is implemented by the Holy Spirit who regenerates the believer at the behest of the Father’s effectual call. Every Christian is incorporated into the one people of God (Eph. 4:4-6). In sum, the work of redemption has a linear process, from the effective call to glorification, with regeneration, repentance/faith, justification, and sanctification falling between these (Rom. 8:30).

Nevertheless, this work of redemption, universal in character, takes place during a person’s life and experience, the particular aspect. Were it God’s will, He could simply redeem a person immediately with the fullness of Christ’s purchased salvation. This is certainly within the power of Him who called all things into being by the utterance of His Word (2 Cor. 4:6). Yet God has rarely chosen such an expeditious manner in saving sinners. Very often, in fact almost always, He works in a believer’s life through the events, circumstances, and processes unique to his life. Archibald Alexander, in his insightful Thoughts on Religious Experience, places these differences in experience within the situational, historical, and constitutional differences between each individual person, requiring pastoral wisdom in assessing a person’s spiritual state.[xiv] There is manifold wisdom in God’s way of saving sinners. Each person participates in the one salvation wrought by Christ, yet each person also contributes a distinct story of how that saving grace is manifested in him. John Murray observes, “If God has provided for the salvation of men, it must be salvation that takes effect in the sphere of human existence, that is, in the temporal, historical realm. Salvation as accomplished in time comprises a great many elements, factors, and aspects.”[xv]

The universal and particular aspects of redemption lead us to conclude that, though there is one salvation for all, the experience of one Christian in that process may drastically differ from another’s. All these circumstances, though unique, are not outside of God’s purview, but are the very means through which the Gospel, like leaven, works in the sinner’s heart to convict him of sin and bring him to faith and repentance. Whether the night of conviction is long or short, God’s grace brings a recollection of how He worked providentially in each of us to save us, drawing Christians into deeper devotion to Him for His grace, and a greater sense of our dependence on Christ for our unimpeachable hope.

“How precious did that grace appear, the hour I first believed.”

[i] Abraham Booth, The Reign of Grace: From Its Rise to Its Consummation (reprint, Sprinkle Publications, 2017), 100. A similar insight into the uncertainty of when redemption is genuinely effected can be found in John Bunyan’s autobiographical Grace Abounding to the Chief of Sinners. This short piece can be found in The Whole Works of John Bunyan (Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1977), 1:6-65. The Banner of Truth Trust has a standalone version of this title.

[ii] The Works of John Newton (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1988), 1:25.

[iii] Ibid, 1:26, italics original.

[iv] The verb used here, κατανύσσομαι (“to be pierced, stabbed”), can mean pain in reference to anxiety or remorse. See Bauer, Danker, Arndt, and Gingrich, A Greek-English Lexicon of the New Testament and other Early Christian Literature, 3rd edition (Chicago, University of Chicago Press, 2000), 523.

[v] For a helpful discussion of the topic of “preparation,” see Joel R. Beeke and Mark Jones, A Puritan Theology: Doctrine for Life (Grand Rapids: Reformation Heritage Books, 2012), 443-461, especially 455-461.

[vi] John Owen, The Works of John Owen (Banner of Truth, 1981), 3:229.

[vii] Newton, Letters of John Newton (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1976), 15, emphasis added.

[viii] Jonathan Edwards, Religious Affections, quoted in Beeke and Jones, A Puritan Theology, 459.

[ix] B. H. Carroll, “The Human Side of Regeneration,” in J. B. Cranfill, Sermons and Life Sketch of B. H. Carroll, D. D. (Philadelphia: American Baptist Publication Society, 1893), 177.

[x] Thomas Hooker, The Soul’s Preparation for Christ, 170-171, quoted in James M. Renihan, For the Vindication of the Truth: A Brief Exposition of the First London Baptist Confession of Faith (Cape Coral, FL: Founders Press, 2021), 99, emphasis added.

[xi] Quoted from Renihan, Vindication, 98. For evidence that Kiffen’s views are harmonious with the 1st London Confession, see ibid, 98-102.

[xii] Archibald Alexander, Thoughts on Religious Experience (reprint, Banner of Truth Trust, 1967), 15-16.

[xiii] Sinclair Ferguson, The Christian Life: A Doctrinal Introduction (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 2017), 42. Roland Bainton provides a useful summary of Luther’s “Damascus Road” experience in Here I Stand (New York: Mentor Books, 1950), 15. It is interesting to compare Luther’s earlier experience and subsequent vow with his later wrestling over salvation seen in the same biography at 46-51.

[xiv] Alexander, Religious Experience, 32-36.

[xv] John Murray, The Collected Writings of John Murray (Edinburgh: Banner of Truth, 1977), 2:123. Though Murray is specifying the diverse aspects of the plan of salvation from election to glorification, it is just as applicable to the personalized experience of salvation in the believer.

The Lord has promised good to me,  His word my hope secures;He will my shield and portion be  As long as life endures.

When John Newton penned his classic hymn in 1772, first sung in January 1773, the autobiographical reflections of his life to that point were clearly at the forefront of his mind. He had experienced more misadventures in his first few decades than most men, and the grace of the Lord had marvelously saved him from spiritual death as well as severe earthly danger.

In his fourth stanza Newton shifts his focus to the future, and he declares that the goodness of God which had thus far followed him through 46 years was his certain expectation for the remainder of his days. Indeed, believers should commemorate God’s previous acts of kindness and deliverance, and Newton reminds us we should also entrust ourselves to the goodness of God for all our future days. Christians should expect God’s perpetual goodness towards us. We should hold a posture of what one might call “Christian optimism,” rooted in the character and the sure promise of God.

The Truth of God’s Promise

God has promised good to his children. The reality of this statement is enough to make one marvel forever. The supreme Lord over all, who created the heavens and earth and is Himself majestic beyond comprehension, has condescended not merely to notice man, but to care for man and to devote himself to the good of man (Psalm 8). In God’s act of creation, he makes for man a good world full of blessing and wonder. When he calls Abraham, he states that his purpose is for Abraham to be blessed and to be a blessing to humanity (Genesis 12:2). Indeed, throughout redemptive history we see God dealing with his people with the design of goodness and blessing in view (Exodus 19:6, 34:10; Deuteronomy 26:18-19; 2 Samuel 7; Jeremiah 29:10-14, 31:31-34). Paul declares to us who believe in Christ that God is actively at work in our lives to bring about our good and his glory (Romans 8:28-39). We shall say more about the substance of the good that God has promised, but may we first believe this promise, embrace it, and wonder at it.

There is a danger for us who want to resist popular and pervasive caricatures of God found in modern Christian teaching, music, and subculture, which emphasize the goodness of God and his “friendliness” to the neglect of presenting his holiness, sovereignty, and righteousness. That danger is that in our efforts to champion these latter traits we can become myopic and fail to cherish and celebrate the kindness and genuine goodness of God and his delight in his people, “For the Lord takes pleasure in his people; he adorns the humble with salvation,” (Psalm 149:9; cf. Zephaniah 3:17).

 Instead, we must not lose sight of the consistent theme of scripture that God intends to bless his people and do good to them. True, God is not a cosmic Santa Claus, but neither is he a cold and indifferent potentate; he loves his children. Calling upon God as our Father is an act of faith in his benevolent disposition toward us. Hence, Jesus compares our love for our children with that of the Father for us: “Or which one of you, if his son asks him for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a serpent? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father who is in heaven give good things to those who ask him,” (Matthew 7:9-11). Christians ought to be the most hopeful, the most optimistic people because we know that the God who superintends the universe has a loving heart. Furthermore, the goodness of God is not a generalized intention but a personal promise; each believer can rightly say, “The Lord has promised good to me.” Believing that God is good and intends to do good to us is a matter of believing his Word.

The Surety of God’s Promise

As Newton asserts, our hope in God’s promise is a certainty because it is grounded in his Word and his character. The author of Hebrews makes this same connection in reference to Abraham’s hope and our own as heirs of the promise:

So when God desired to show more convincingly to the heirs of the promise the unchangeable character of his purpose, he guaranteed it with an oath, so that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus as gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek. [1]

Our hope is for that which is certain and yet presently unseen, namely God’s future goodness towards us in this life and ultimately in the final resurrection (Romans 8:20-25; 1 Corinthians 15:19). The Word of God is the basis for our hope; we believe the promises God has communicated to us. God’s Word is also the means by which this hope is secured or brought to pass in our lives and in human history. When the Lord speaks, he is acting; unlike the mere words of a man, God’s Word accomplishes purposes and has tangible effects on his creation. God’s Word secures our hope because it is his Word that produces saving faith and repentance, and his Word is the very power of God to direct the course of human events (Romans 10:17; James 1:21; Isaiah 55:10-11; 1 Corinthians 1:18).  Though Peter was an eyewitness of Christ’s glory, he asserts that the prophetic word of the Scriptures was more certain than his own firsthand experience (2 Peter 1:16-20). Hence, when we do not see firsthand that God is being good to us, we can nevertheless believe it.

The Substance of God’s Promise

God has promised good to us, but what is meant by “good?” Is it the “good” that is peddled by prosperity gospel hucksters, Word of Faith teachers, and even misguided evangelicals – namely physical health, material prosperity, and an abundance of self-esteem and self-affirmation? Does God’s word promise a life of comfort and ease to believers? Or is there a higher good which we should expect from God, one that transcends our own experience, emotions, and even existence? Newton answers this by directing our attention heavenward and insisting that essence of God’s promise for good is the promise that God would give himself to us – “He will my shield and portion be.”

Scripture declares that God himself is both the source and the substance of our good. As John Piper helpfully summarizes, “The best and final gift of the gospel is that we gain Christ… the highest, best, final, decisive good of the gospel, without which no other gifts would be good, is the glory of God in the face of Christ revealed for our everlasting enjoyment.”[2] So, what is this good that God has promised to us? It is nothing less than God himself. God calls, justifies, sanctifies, and glorifies us for our good because these are the means by which we will know him, the ultimate treasure.

The world and the enemies of the gospel define “good” based upon human sensory experience: an attractive spouse, an expensive car, an adventurous vacation, a clean bill of health, successful children, worry-free existence, political power, and the list goes on. The good which God will bring about in our lives certainly permeates our human experience and is delightful to us, but it is not centered on us; it is anchored in and defined by him. This is the sense in which God is our portion. The reward of believing the gospel is that we gain Christ, and there is no possible higher reward.

We ought not expect the world to understand that supreme gladness is found only in knowing the Lord, and yet do we believers not also sometimes seek to find our chief happiness in those things which cannot ultimately satisfy us? Even good and commendable things can usurp God’s rightful place on the thrones of our hearts, individually and corporately. In Jeremiah 2:13 the Lord upbraids his people for such an exchange:

For my people have committed two evils:

They have forsaken me,

The fountain of living waters,

And hewed out cisterns for themselves,

Broken cisterns that can hold no water.

The Lord declared himself to be the shield of Abraham (Gen 15:1), Israel (Deuteronomy 33:29), and David (Psalm 3:3; 5:12, 18:2), depicting himself as the one who protected them from trouble and calamity. Each of us could undoubtedly recount myriad ways in which the Lord had delivered us from hardships, and yet the Lord has most certainly protected us from unknown and unexperienced trials about which we know nothing simply because he spared us and shielded us from them. We can be sure that God will not permit anything to penetrate his shielding except that which he designs to afflict us for our good. This is why in the face of profound loss and unfathomable suffering, those who know God can say that such afflictions are themselves good (Job 1:20-22; Philippians 3:7-11).

The Duration of God’s Promise

If the Lord were to promise us good only in this lifetime, we should be thankful for his mercy even in that short span of time. Yet God’s promise extends through the end of our days on earth and beyond, “as long as life endures.” As Jesus declared to Martha, so he promises to us, “I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in me, though he die, yet shall he live, and everyone who lives and believes in me shall never die. Do you believe this?” (John 11:25-26). To believe this promise is to echo the praise of David, “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life, and I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever,” (Psalm 23:6).

The comfort that is ours in knowing the promise of God to do good to us, for us, and in us is a cause for great rejoicing when we see and experience this in our times of blessing. The birth of a child, a plentiful harvest, and seasons of spiritual growth and refreshment are tangible proofs of God’s promises and his faithfulness. But it is in the valley of the shadow of death, the periods of drought and famine, and the times of spiritual despondency when we most need to be reminded of God’s promises of goodness that will ultimately prevail over the trials we experience. When our temporal vista gives way to the perspective of eternity, we shall see that all along the Lord was doing everything for our good, just as he promised. As Newton’s friend William Cowper[3] penned,

Ye fearful saints, fresh courage take;

The clouds ye so much dread

Are big with mercy, and shall break

In blessings on your head.

Judge not the Lord by feeble sense, But trust him for his grace;

Behind a frowning providence

He hides a smiling face.

His purposes will ripen fast,

Unfolding every hour:

The bud may have a bitter taste,

But sweet will be the flower. [4]

In his summary of Newton’s life and theology, biographer Josiah Bull places a special emphasis on Newton’s optimism towards God’s providence, “But here we would especially speak of Mr Newton’s faith in the overruling providence of God. In all circumstances his soul stayed itself upon the Lord. Thus in the perils of the deep he possessed his soul in peace.”[5]

Newton saw that even the sufferings of life are part of God’s plan to bring about good, both in his own life and in the lives of others. In his deepest sorrow following the death of his wife, he remarked in his journal, “I acknowledge that it was well worth standing awhile in the fire for such an opportunity of experiencing and exhibiting the power and faithfulness of His promises.”[6] Newton looked externally to God for his support, and he was sustained through his trial by considering that others who saw both his afflictions and his steadfast trust would have reason to look to God and be comforted when their own trials came. Newton preached the funeral service for his wife, and he remarked in his journal that he expected this to bear fruit, stating, “I have reason to hope that many of my hearers were comforted and animated under their afflictions by what they saw of the Lord’s goodness to me in my time of need.” Thus, our trust in God amidst the darkness may be used to be a blessing to others if we will but have eyes to see beyond ourselves in our travails. The good purposes God has for him who is suffering extend beyond the sufferer himself (Philippians 1:14, Colossians 1:24-25).

The Christian is not called to be a Pollyanna, willfully oblivious of the troubles that beset us and blindly optimistic about happiness lying just around the corner. Neither should Christians be like Eeyore, the old perpetually pessimistic donkey, incapable of finding contentment due to an expectation of inevitable hardship. Instead, we ought to trust the promise of God, that he intends good for us and that “He who calls you is faithful. He will surely do it,” (1 Thessalonians 5:24).

[1]Hebrews 6:17-20

[2]John Piper, God is the Gospel (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Books, 2005), 13.

[3]For a concise account of their friendship, see George Ella, “John Newton’s Friendship with William Cowper, https://www.christianstudylibrary.org/article/john-newtons-friendship-william-cowper.

[4]William Cowper, “God Moves in a Mysterious Way.”

[5]Josiah Bull, The Life of John Newton (Carlisle, PA: The Banner of Truth Trust, 2007; reprinted 2020), 317.

[6]Bull, 262.