ABSTRACT: “And the Rock was Christ.” Some have interpreted Paul’s claim in 1 Corinthians 10:4 as a departure from grammatical-historical exegesis, or even as evidence that Paul gave credence to unhistorical Jewish myths. A close reading of his words against the backdrop of the canon, however, shows that Paul was reading Moses the way Moses intended. In the Pentateuch, Moses identifies the two water-giving rocks in the wilderness with Yahweh himself. Later in the Old Testament, the psalmists and prophets further identify the rock with Yahweh and look forward to a new exodus. In the Gospels, Jesus fulfills Old Testament expectations for that new exodus, with himself as the bread from heaven and water-giving rock. And in 1 Corinthians, therefore, Paul embraces the united perspective of the biblical authors. In drinking water from the rock, the Israelites drank from a type of Christ, who now lives as the thirst-quenching spiritual Rock of the church.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors and Christian leaders, we asked Jim Hamilton, professor of biblical theology at The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, to explain Paul’s typological exegesis in 1 Corinthians 10:4.

Peter Enns identifies his “aha moment” — when he realized that what he was taught about the Bible and how to interpret it in his evangelical background was untenable — as coming to his understanding of 1 Corinthians 10:4: “They drank from the spiritual Rock that followed them, and the Rock was Christ.” Enns relates how Professor James Kugel explained in a lecture

that water coming from the rock twice — once at the beginning of the wilderness period (Exodus 17) and again toward the end of the 40-year period (Numbers 20) — led some Jewish interpreters to conclude that the “two” rocks were actually one and the same, hence, one rock accompanied the Israelites on their 40-year journey.

To help his readers feel the force of the problem, Enns asserts,

Let me put a finer point on that: no rock moved in the Old Testament, but Paul said one did. Paul says something about the Old Testament that the Old Testament doesn’t say. He wasn’t following the evangelical rule of “grammatical-historical” contextual interpretation. He was doing something else — something weird, ancient, and Jewish.

I am going to argue in this essay that we should regard this moment as an “oops” rather than an “aha.” That is, Enns’s conclusions do not stand up to examination. While the apostle Paul has interpreted the Old Testament in accordance with the intentions of its authors, Peter Enns has not.

Before we look at the Old Testament contexts and New Testament claims of fulfillment, let us observe that Paul does not say exactly what Enns says he does. Enns claims that Paul says the rock moved, and he takes that as conclusive evidence that Paul believed an ancient Jewish myth that was not, in fact, true.1 Note, however, that Paul identifies the rock as Christ, in which case a possible interpretation is that Paul does not endorse the Jewish myth at all but rather says that the people drank from Christ, their rock, and that Christ followed them through the wilderness.

In what follows, we turn our attention to the Old Testament contexts of Exodus 17 and Numbers 20, and move from there to how the ideas developed in the rest of the Pentateuch and later Old Testament writings. We will then consider the way Jesus seems to present himself as the fulfillment of the water-from-the-rock episode, before returning to Paul’s treatment in 1 Corinthians 10.

Water from the Rock in Exodus and Numbers

Michael Morales has persuasively suggested that the whole of the Pentateuch is chiastically structured, centering on the Day of Atonement in Leviticus 16, with the two episodes of water from the rock standing across from one another in the literary structure.2 This suggests that Moses, author of the Pentateuch, intended the two episodes to be read in light of one another.3

Given the topic under discussion, it seems particularly significant that the first of these episodes entails Yahweh standing before Moses on the rock that Moses is to strike, from which the water will flow for Israel to drink: “Behold, I will stand before you there on the rock at Horeb, and you shall strike the rock, and water shall come out of it, and the people will drink” (Exodus 17:6). It is almost as though, by placing himself on the rock that Moses is to strike, Yahweh means to identify himself, in some sense, with the rock, so that when Moses strikes the rock he implicitly strikes Yahweh, as a result of which the people’s need for water will be met.4

Some points of contact between the contexts of Exodus 17 and Numbers 20 are worth observing. For instance, after the water from the rock in Exodus 17, Israel defeats Amalek, and Moses builds an altar and names it “Yahweh is my banner” (Exodus 17:15), the term rendered “banner” reflecting the Hebrew nēs. After the water from the rock in Numbers 20, Israel defeats Arad (Numbers 21:1–3) but then speaks against God and Moses (verse 5), in response to which the Lord sends fiery serpents so that many Israelites die (verse 6). When the people repent, the Lord instructs Moses to “make a fiery serpent and set it on a pole” (verse 8), and the term rendered “pole” in Numbers 21:8–9 is the same as the term rendered “banner” in Exodus 17:15, nēs. The only other place this term is used in all the Pentateuch is Numbers 26:10, making its presence in the contexts that immediately follow the two water-from-the-rock episodes all the more noticeable.

Given the myth of the moveable well that supposedly followed Israel from Exodus 17 until they entered the promised land in Joshua, it also would seem noteworthy that they come to a well in Numbers 21:10–20. In terms of narrative space, Israel has the rest of Numbers 22–36 and all of Deuteronomy before they enter the land. This includes the defeat of Sihon and Og (Numbers 21), the Balaam oracles (Numbers 22–24), and the sin at Baal Peor (Numbers 25), followed by the war against Midian (Numbers 31). So it would seem that they still face some time before they enter the land of promise, which is to say, the Pentateuch itself shows that the rocks Moses struck were not Israel’s only water sources during the forty-year wilderness wandering.

“At no point does Moses indicate that a literal stone or a moveable well followed Israel through the wilderness.”

The two narratives in question, Exodus 17 and Numbers 20, stand in literary relationship to one another, but at no point does Moses indicate that a literal stone or a moveable well followed Israel through the wilderness.

Water from the Rock in Deuteronomy

Note again that the apostle Paul does not, as Peter Enns suggests, endorse the Jewish myth of the moveable well. That is, Paul does not say that the rock from which the water flowed in Exodus 17 followed Israel through the wilderness, giving them water across the forty-year period. Rather, Paul says that Israel drank from the “spiritual Rock that followed them, and the Rock was Christ” (1 Corinthians 10:4). Why does Paul call it a “spiritual Rock,” and where would he have gotten that idea? As a step toward an answer for why Paul would refer to a “spiritual Rock,” I make two related observations. First, Paul identifies this “spiritual Rock” as Christ. Second, the KJV and ESV capitalize “Rock” in the phrase “spiritual Rock,” which seems to indicate that these translation committees understand Paul to be calling God the “spiritual Rock,” with Paul then identifying Christ with God.

As to where Paul might have gotten these ideas, I contend that he got them from the Old Testament itself, beginning with Moses. In Deuteronomy 32, Moses calls God “the Rock” five times (all with the Hebrew term ṣūr *for “rock,” which is also in Exodus 17:6, whereas Numbers 20:8–11 uses *selaʿ):

Verse 4: “The Rock, his work is perfect, for all his ways are justice. A God of faithfulness and without iniquity, just and upright is he.”
Verse 15: “But Jeshurun grew fat, and kicked; you grew fat, stout, and sleek; then he forsook God who made him and scoffed at the Rock of his salvation.”
Verse 18: “You were unmindful of the Rock that bore you, and you forgot the God who gave you birth.”
Verse 30: “How could one have chased a thousand, and two have put ten thousand to flight, unless their Rock had sold them, and the Lord had given them up?”
Verse 31: “For their rock is not as our Rock; our enemies are by themselves.”

Perhaps reflecting the incident in Exodus 17:6, when Yahweh stood on the rock, so that when Moses struck the rock it was as though he struck through Yahweh to smite the rock, in Deuteronomy 32:13 there seems to be an identification made between Yahweh, Israel’s “Rock,” and the “rock” from which they drank:

32:13: “He made him ride on the high places of the land, and he ate the produce of the field, and he suckled him with honey out of the rock [selaʿ], and oil out of the flinty rock [ṣūr].”

Since both terms for “rock” appear in Deuteronomy 32:13, the one from Exodus 17:6 (ṣūr) and the other from Numbers 20:8–11 (selaʿ), it seems that Moses means to reference both passages.

Note, too, the proximity of the “rock” statements to one another in the poetry of Deuteronomy 32 — Yahweh is the rock whose work is perfect (verse 4), and he suckled his people with oil from the flinty rock (verse 13), but they were unmindful of Yahweh, their rock (verse 15). It also seems significant that Moses does not speak of prosaic and historical water from the rock but rather speaks poetically in verse 13 of honey from the crag and oil from the rock. Hereby Moses accentuates the life-giving provision the Lord made for his people, and simultaneously he forges a connection between the identity of Yahweh as the Rock for Israel and the physical rock, struck by Moses, from which water flowed.

I want to point out here as well that teasing out the sophisticated metaphorical and theological implications of the kinds of statements Moses makes does not entail a departure from grammatical-historical interpretation. No, understanding all the fullness of what Moses has written across the Pentateuch demands that we understand his grammatical constructions and the historical meaning of his terms in their literary context. We get at poetic, symbolic, metaphorical meanings by going through grammatical-historical interpretation in canonical context, not by departing from these necessary interpretive controls.

Before moving on to references to the water-from-the-rock episodes later in the Old Testament, we should make two observations on what Moses meant to communicate in the Pentateuch. First, we have no indication that Moses intended his audience to understand that the rock he struck in Exodus 17:6 became mobile and followed Israel through the wilderness all the way to the second incident in Numbers 20:8–11. In fact, the use of different Hebrew terms for “rock” in Exodus 17:6 and Numbers 20:8–11 seems to indicate that Moses did not intend his audience to understand that he struck the same object on the two occasions.

Second, there are indications that Moses meant for his audience, at some level, to identify Yahweh with the rock. Moses clearly distinguishes between Yahweh and the rock, and yet by relating how Yahweh stood before Moses on the rock he was to strike (Exodus 17:6), and then by referring to Yahweh as Israel’s Rock in close proximity to his rehearsal of the water-from-the-rock episodes in Deuteronomy 32, Moses seems to say that Yahweh is the real source of Israel’s provision, the real solid ground and stable shelter. Yahweh is the Rock for his people.

Water from the Rock in Later OT Writings

There are a number of references to the Lord providing water from the rock through the rest of the Old Testament. Consider the following:

Isaiah 48:21: “They did not thirst when he led them through the deserts; he made water flow for them from the rock [ṣūr]; he split the rock [ṣūr] and the water gushed out.”
Psalm 78:15: “He split rocks [ṣūr] in the wilderness and gave them drink abundantly as from the deep.”
Psalm 78:16: “He made streams come out of the rock [selaʿ] and caused waters to flow down like rivers.”
Psalm 78:20: “He struck the rock [ṣūr] so that water gushed out and streams overflowed. Can he also give bread or provide meat for his people?”
Psalm 78:35: “They remembered that God was their rock [ṣūr], the Most High God their redeemer.”
Psalm 81:16: “But he would feed you with the finest of the wheat, and with honey from the rock [ṣūr] I would satisfy you.”
Psalm 105:41: “He opened the rock [ṣūr], and water gushed out; it flowed through the desert like a river.”
Psalm 114:8: “. . . who turns the rock [ṣūr] into a pool of water, the flint into a spring of water.”
Job 29:6: “. . . when my steps were washed with butter, and the rock [ṣūr] poured out for me streams of oil!”

Note three observations on these texts. First, just as Moses never indicates that the physical stone he struck in Exodus 17:6 followed Israel through the wilderness for forty years, so also later Old Testament authors never indicate that during the forty-year wandering in the wilderness Israel relied upon a moveable well to provide them with water. That is to say, the myth of the moveable well does not derive from exegesis of the Old Testament.

Second, in the same way that Moses identified Yahweh with the rock, later Old Testament authors regularly speak as David does in Psalm 18:2: “The Lord is my rock [selaʿ] and my fortress and my deliverer, my God, my rock [ṣūr], in whom I take refuge.” In the bullet-pointed list above, I included the references to the water from the rock in Psalm 78:15, 16, and 20, and in that same psalm we see the assertion, “They remembered that God was their rock [ṣūr]” at verse 35. Similarly, in Psalm 42:1 the psalmist likens God to the streams of water for which the deer pants, and then in 42:9 he says, “I say to God, my rock [selaʿ].”

Third, these references to the water-from-the-rock episodes in later Old Testament texts often point back to the way God saved his people at the exodus in order to point forward to the way he will save them at the new exodus. In other words, once the two water-from-the-rock episodes in Exodus 17 and Numbers 20 have been narrated, when water from the rock is mentioned in later Old Testament texts, these later authors are contributing to the typological expectation of a new exodus.

I contend, then, that Moses, the prophets, and the psalmists all treat the water-from-the-rock episodes in the same way: Moses narrates the historical events of the exodus, and because he has presented similar patterns of events in the lives of Abraham (Genesis 12:10–20; 15:7–16) and Jacob (Genesis 28–32), while also indicating that the conquest of the land will be a new exodus (Exodus 15:5–10, 13–17), the historical correspondences generate an escalating sense of expectation.5 That is to say, Moses intends his audience to understand that the exodus (including related wonders like manna from heaven and water from the rock) typifies the way God will save his people in the future. The prophets and the psalmists have learned from Moses and been led by the Spirit to understand the exodus and water from the rock in the same way, and thus they too present Israel’s past experience of salvation as typifying what God will do for them in the future.

Moses and the Old Testament authors who followed him did not indicate that the literal stone followed Israel through the wilderness, but they did indicate that insofar as Yahweh was Israel’s real source of protection and provision, he was their Rock. Further, they also indicate that the exodus and God’s provision for his people in the wilderness typify the way God would save his people in the future. I contend that the New Testament authors learned this same perspective from Moses, the prophets, and the Lord Jesus.

Water from the Rock in John’s Gospel

In his Gospel, John everywhere presents Jesus as the one who brings about the typological fulfillment of the exodus from Egypt.6 As part of this, in John 4:10–14 Jesus presents himself as the source of living water. Then in John 6, Jesus is the prophet like Moses (verse 14) who feeds the people in the wilderness in the season of Passover (verses 4–13). Then having miraculously crossed the water (verses 16–21), Jesus identifies himself as the true bread from heaven that gives life (verses 32–33), going so far as to assert, “I am the bread of life” (verse 35).

Whereas the feast of Passover celebrated the exodus from Egypt, the feast of Tabernacles celebrated the way God provided for his people through the forty-year wilderness wandering, when God led his people by the pillar of fire and cloud and gave them water from the rock. These two aspects of Israel’s experience likely inform the famous candle-lighting and water-pouring ceremonies that came to be celebrated in the feast of Tabernacles (cf. m.Sukkah 4:9–5:3). In keeping with this, Jesus not only presents himself as the light of the world (John 8:12), but he also presents himself as a rock-like source of water, only he offers something better than water: the Holy Spirit (7:37–39). In the same way that Jesus is himself the fulfillment of the manna from heaven and the pillar of fire, he is the fulfillment of the rock from which the water flowed.

Thus we read in John 7:37–39,

On the last day of the feast, the great day, Jesus stood up and cried out, “If anyone thirsts, let him come to me and drink. Whoever believes in me, as the Scripture has said, ‘Out of his heart will flow rivers of living water.’” Now this he said about the Spirit, whom those who believed in him were to receive, for as yet the Spirit had not been given, because Jesus was not yet glorified.

I submit that John intends his audience to understand this statement along the following lines: In the same way that God saved his people from Egypt then provided for them in the wilderness, God is saving his people through Jesus and will provide for them in him until they reach their destination. In the fulfillment of the exodus accomplished by Jesus, however, God gives something better than manna from heaven and water from the rock to sustain his people on their life-journey through the wilderness to the fulfillment of the land of promise, the new Jerusalem in the new heavens and new earth. God gives his people Christ himself as the bread of life, and Jesus gives to his people the Holy Spirit as the fulfillment of the water from the rock.

John has asserted that Christ is the Word made flesh (John 1:14) and that the Word was in the beginning, was with God, and was God (1:1–2). John thus identifies Jesus with Yahweh, and his presentation includes Christ, the one who has promised living water, being struck: “One of the soldiers pierced his side with a spear, and at once there came out blood and water” (19:34). After testifying that he tells the truth (verse 35), John immediately asserts that the fact that the legs of Jesus were not broken (verses 32–33) fits with his death being the typological fulfillment of the death of the Passover lamb in the fulfillment of the exodus pattern of events: “These things took place that the Scripture might be fulfilled: ‘Not one of his bones will be broken’” (verse 36).

From the Gospel of John, we can make the same three points about the idea of water from the rock that we have made about this theme in Moses and the Prophets. First, at no point does John present Jesus or any other character in his narrative suggesting that a literal rock or moveable well followed Israel through the wilderness across the forty-year wandering. Second, Yahweh, and in John’s case Jesus, whom he identifies with Yahweh, is symbolically and metaphorically presented as the one who abides with, provides for, and protects his people, and like Moses, John presents the Lord as the stricken water-giver. And third, God’s deliverance of his people at the exodus and through the wilderness typifies the future salvation, which John claims is fulfilled in Jesus.

Given the claims made by Peter Enns, we can engage in a thought experiment at this point. Which is the more likely scenario, that Paul perpetuates what Moses, the prophets, the psalmists, and the evangelist John indicate about water from the rock, or that Paul picks up a relatively obscure Jewish myth7 — a myth unsubstantiated by exegesis of the Torah, unsupported in the Prophets and Psalms, and unattested in any tradition of what Jesus taught — and perpetuates it in 1 Corinthians 10:4?

It is not as though there were no careful thinkers in Paul’s earliest audiences, and it is not as though all his letters were recognized as having been inspired by the Spirit and included in the New Testament. I suspect that if the believing community had understood Paul to be perpetuating that myth, which was in fact false to history, they would not have received what we now refer to as 1 Corinthians into their growing collection of New Testament Scripture.

So what did Paul say, and what does it mean?

‘And the Rock Was Christ’ in 1 Corinthians 10:4

Paul has addressed the identity issues, sexual immorality, and idolatry plaguing the Corinthian church in 1 Corinthians 1–9. The identity issues manifest in members of the church making themselves notable through their claims about whom they follow, whether Paul, Cephas, or Christ (1 Corinthians 1:12), and in his opening words in chapter 10 Paul continues to reshape their understanding of who they are with his typological application of Scripture. He addresses the Jewish and Gentile congregation as his “brothers,” and he refers to the exodus generation as “our fathers”: “I do not want you to be unaware, brothers, that our fathers were all under the cloud, and all passed through the sea” (10:1). Paul speaks to the church as though they belong to the family of faith.

In the reports that have come to him (e.g., 1:11; 5:1; 7:1), Paul may have heard that some members of the church thought that because they had been baptized and had partaken of the Lord’s Supper, they could engage in sexual immorality and/or idolatry with impunity — or he could be anticipating this unacceptable response. He seems to address this mindset with his typological explanation of what happened to Israel in 1 Corinthians 10:2–5.

Paul’s view appears to be that Moses presented a recurring pattern in which Noah was saved through the floodwaters of judgment, then baby Moses was saved in his ark-basket through floodwaters of judgment, and then the nation was saved through the floodwaters of judgment when they crossed the Red Sea (there are verbal connections between these narratives that signal Moses’s intent to link them).8 The Lord Jesus seems to allude to this “salvation through the floodwaters of judgment” theme when he speaks of his looming death as a baptism he has to undergo (e.g., Mark 10:38–39). Paul explains in Romans 6 that when believers are immersed in water, they are plunged into a symbolic union with Christ in his death, that they might then symbolically rise from the waters with him (Romans 6:1–11; cf. Ephesians 2:5–6).

Thus, when Paul speaks of Israel being “baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea” in 1 Corinthians 10:2, he words it this way to highlight the pattern of salvation-through-the-waters-of-judgment that typify Christian baptism. Paul moves to address the presumption that baptism allows one to sin with impunity by rehearsing how “with most of them God was not pleased, for they were overthrown in the wilderness” (verse 5). The point being: Israelites “were baptized into Moses in the cloud and in the sea” (verse 2), and God judged them for their sin, so do not think that having been baptized into Christ allows for continuing in sin with impunity.

Before we proceed to discuss 1 Corinthians 10:3–4, we must note the thoroughly typological way Paul is dealing with the events of the exodus from Egypt. The Greek rendered by the ESV “examples” in verse 6 and “example” in verse 11 is the root we transliterate to form the English term type. We could just as well translate these statements as follows:

Verse 6: “Now these became types of us . . .”
Verse 11: “Now these things happened to them typologically . . .”

The point I am trying to emphasize is that just as Moses indicated that the exodus typified future salvation, just as the Prophets and Psalmists learned that view from Moses, and just John presented Jesus as the one who brought the exodus pattern of salvation to typological fulfillment, so Paul applies the exodus and wilderness narratives typologically to the Corinthians. On this point, Paul’s understanding is consistent with that of Moses, Isaiah, Asaph, John, and Jesus of Nazareth.

When Paul speaks in 1 Corinthians 10:3–4 of the exodus generation eating “spiritual food” and drinking “spiritual drink,” he clearly has in view the manna from heaven and water from the rock. He seems to refer to these as “spiritual” as opposed to “natural” (cf. the same contrast in 1 Corinthians 2:14–15) because, unlike normal food and water obtained in the usual human way, this food and water were provided through the direct intervention of God. The fact that Paul speaks of the Lord’s Supper in 10:16–21 and again in 11:17–34 fits with the idea that he sees the manna from heaven and water from the rock as prefiguring types of the Lord’s Supper. In the same way that, having saved Israel from Egypt, God provided for them through the wilderness on their journey to the land of promise, so now, having saved Christians through the fulfillment of the exodus in Christ, God provides the Lord’s Supper to sustain his people through the wilderness to the fulfillment of the land of promise in the new heavens and new earth. Paul’s treatment of the Lord’s Supper thus matches the way that the Lord Jesus provided himself as the fulfillment of the manna from heaven in John 6 and the fulfillment of the rock from which the water flowed in John 7.

This brings us to Paul’s explanatory comment in 1 Corinthians 10:4b: “For they drank from the spiritual Rock that followed them, and the Rock was Christ.” The fact that Paul calls this a “spiritual Rock” argues against the idea that he means to refer to a literal stone that supposedly followed Israel around in the wilderness. That he proceeds to identify this Rock with Christ amounts to the assertion of a conclusion that naturally follows from the premises he has established, and neither the premises nor the conclusion has anything to do with the myth of a moveable well.

Rather, Paul’s premises are those that we have seen in the Law, Prophets, Writings, and Gospels. First, this is a “spiritual Rock” for the same reason the food and drink were “spiritual” — because it is not a naturally occurring physical stone as a source of water but something that results from the direct intervention of the transforming work of God. Second, just as Moses identifies Yahweh with the rock, and just as John identifies the Christ with Yahweh, so Paul identifies the rock with Christ. Third, just as the point of identifying Yahweh as the rock was to communicate his presence with, protection of, and provision for his people, so also Paul asserts that the people of Israel experienced the presence, protection, and provision made by Christ. This affirms the inseparable operations of the members of the Godhead — what the Father does the Son does — and it matches Jude referring to “Jesus, who saved a people out of the land of Egypt” (Jude 5).

“The God who saved Israel at the exodus and in the wilderness is the Christ who has saved Christians.”

Paul’s point here is to warn the Corinthians. He urges them not to think, wrongly, that they can sin with impunity since they partake of the Lord’s Supper. His proof against this is that even though the Israelites partook of the type of the Lord’s Supper, God judged them for their sin. Why does Paul assert that the rock was Christ? By doing so, he affirms that the God who saved Israel at the exodus and in the wilderness is the Christ who has saved Christians.

Paul the Biblical Theologian

How would the affirmation of the little-known myth of the movable well have helped Paul to make this point with his Corinthian audience? Would it not have been a confusing distraction from the point he sought to make? Would it have helped him to establish typological identity between Israel and the church? Would it have helped him to warn the church in Corinth away from the sexual immorality and idolatry that tempted them? Would it have helped them to relish their experience of the fulfillment of the manna from heaven and water from the rock as they partook of the Lord’s Supper? Would it have established him in the church as a sound interpreter of the Law and the Prophets, as a faithful exponent of the message of the Lord Jesus? Paul comments in 1 Corinthians 4:6, “I have applied all these things to myself and Apollos for your benefit, brothers, that you may learn by us not to go beyond what is written.” Bringing in the myth of the moveable well undoubtedly goes “beyond what is written,” and such interpretive moves more likely characterized Paul’s opponents in Corinth rather than Paul himself.

“Christ is the Rock. Let all who thirst go to him and drink.”

The fact that the moveable well would not have helped Paul in any of these ways does not establish that he did not reference the myth. That he did not say it has already done that. Paul did not say something like, “Forty years did he rain bread from heaven for them, and he brought them quails from the sea, and a well of water following them” (Ps.-Philo, L.A.B., 10.7). Paul did not teach that the miracle that happened in Exodus 17:6 kept happening across the forty years in the wilderness because the well from which the water flowed actually followed Israel through their journey. No, Paul did what Moses did. He treated the exodus and wilderness narratives typologically. He identified the rock with God, and for Paul that includes God the Son, Christ. And hereby we see the brilliance of Paul as a biblical theologian. He has succeeded in the task of understanding and embracing the perspective of the biblical authors,9 and the church recognized that Paul’s success was due in no small part to the inspiration of the Holy Spirit. Further, they recognized that the Spirit had inspired Paul’s writing of what we refer to as 1 Corinthians, as attested by its presence in the New Testament.

Christ is the Rock. Let all who thirst go to him and drink. And those who go to him shall never hunger, those who believe in him never thirst, for what he gives is better than mere water. Indeed, he gives the Spirit. And those who eat this bread and drink this cup proclaim his death until he comes. Amen. Come, Lord Jesus.

ABSTRACT: When the Act of Uniformity (1662) mandated that all English clergy must adhere to the Book of Common Prayer, controversy ensued among the Puritans. Some Puritans, like John Owen and John Bunyan, argued that written prayers in corporate worship violated Scripture and could quench the Spirit. Others, like Richard Baxter, resisted the Act of Uniformity, but still maintained that written prayers could aid Christians’ corporate worship and prevent disorder. Their disagreement reveals how greatly the Puritans prized biblical worship; it also calls Christians today to pray from sincere and engaged hearts, with words shaped by Scripture.

For our ongoing series of feature articles for pastors, leaders, and teachers, we asked Dr. Greg Salazar, Assistant Professor of Historical Theology at Puritan Reformed Theological Seminary, to explore the disagreement among the Puritans on the use of written prayers in corporate worship.

The last seventy years have witnessed a resurgence in interest in the Puritans. Two events in particular have catapulted the Puritans from the dusty pages of history into the center of mainstream Calvinism. The first was the establishing Banner of Truth Trust in 1957 in order to republish the classics of Puritan literature. Then, recent decades have witnessed the emergence of the New Calvinist movement, which finds its historical and theological roots within the Puritan movement. The result is that there are many (myself included) who are zealous to put down the often-repeated stereotype that the Puritans were those who had “the haunting fear that someone, somewhere, may be happy.”1

Some observers of Christianity also have noted how some evangelicals (including those who identify as Reformed) have drifted toward a more liturgical approach to worship.2 In recent years, Christians have desired to understand the Puritans’ view of the use of written prayers in both corporate and private worship. Although many Puritans argued against the Book of Common Prayer’s prescription to use written prayers in corporate worship, some Puritans believed that such a practice was consistent with biblical worship. Moreover, most Puritans — even those who were opposed to the use of written prayers in public worship — believed that it was perfectly legitimate to use written prayers in one’s own private or even family worship.

This article will examine the most important arguments put forward by some of the most influential Puritans — particularly John Owen, John Bunyan, Richard Baxter, and Matthew Henry. It will survey their arguments for and against the use of written prayers in both public and private worship. It will end by exploring four lessons we can learn from studying the Puritans’ perspectives on these important issues.

Persecuted Puritans

In order to grasp why many Puritan divines opposed the use of any set prayers in public worship, it is important to remember the historical context in which the Puritans lived and ministered.3 The Puritan movement began in the early 1560s, when the Protestant Queen Elizabeth I ascended to the throne, following the death of her Catholic sister, Queen Mary I. As a result of this transition, English Puritans were able to return home from Continental Europe (particularly John Calvin’s Geneva), where they had been living in exile to avoid Catholic persecution.

They brought with them newly forged convictions about the nature of biblical — and, in their mind, truly reformed — doctrine, worship, and church polity. They believed the Church of England — with its commitment doctrinally to the Thirty-nine Articles, liturgical set forms of prayer (outlined in the Book of Common Prayer), and episcopal polity — was a “half-reformed” church in need of further reformation along the lines of Calvin’s Geneva. Thus, for the next century, they sought to reform the Church of England. Some pursued these ideals as somewhat-loyal members of the Church of England, while others remained outside the established church and attempted (and often failed) to set up structures alongside it.

While the first eighty years of the Puritan movement saw little success, the 1640s and 1650s were the golden age — insofar as the Puritans’ aspiration of forming a national church on Puritan principles was now within their grasp. However, when Puritanism’s political leader, Oliver Cromwell, died in 1658 and his son Richard took his place as Lord Protector of England, Oliver’s son lacked the charismatic leadership and giftedness of his father. Within two years, Puritans concluded that their vision of a national church would be better executed in the stable soil of a restored monarchy rather than a failing republic. Consequently, the Puritans invited Charles II — son of Charles I, whom they executed in 1649 — out of exile to reinstate the monarchy.

The initial negotiations between parliament and Charles II for a “broadly inclusive” national church that would grant liberty to Puritan consciences around polity and worship looked promising. However, following the failure to reach a consensus on the particular scope and structures of the newly forming church and the election of a new slate of young “Cavalier” Anglicans to parliament in 1661, the political and ecclesiastical tide turned wholly in favor of the Anglicans and against the now-marginalized Puritans.

Now, not only were the Puritans’ hopes for a broadly inclusive national church dashed, but the likelihood of persecution was imminent as the established church handed down a mandate known as the Act of Uniformity (1662). The Act of Uniformity required all ordained English clergy to repudiate their former presbyterian ordination and political allegiances and to submit themselves to reordination by a bishop and to adherence to the liturgical ideals outlined in the Book of Common Prayer, which had had just been revised in a more Anglican direction. Those ministers who failed to conform in writing would lose both their ministerial posts and the livings tied to those posts.4 In the end, over two thousand clergymen in England and Wales failed to conform and were ejected from their pulpits and livings. It was the most significant and systematic persecution of Puritans in their over one-hundred-year history.5

Against Written Prayers in Corporate Worship

Given their conviction that the Church of England was a “half-reformed” church and their experience of persecution by the church they sought to reform, it is not surprising that many Puritan divines opposed the use of any written prayers in public worship. Consider some of the arguments Puritans like John Owen and John Bunyan raised against the practice.

Written prayers violate the regulative principle.

The clearest reason Puritans opposed such prayers is because they believed their use violated the regulative principle for worship — namely, that nothing should be done in corporate worship unless it is prescribed by God’s word.

In one of the most formidable defenses of the regulative principle and his most extended critique on the Church of England, John Owen (1616–1683) argued that his commitment to the regulative principle of worship, and particularly the second commandment, necessitated his opposition to the use of written prayers in public worship.6 Owen argued that they were “a human invention” and an idolatrous violation of the second commandment.7 He even contended that though the apostles were inspired by the Holy Spirit to write Scripture, they were never inspired to write “prescribe[d] forms of prayer, either for the whole church or single persons.”8 Thus, he concludes, if the very apostles were never tasked with this duty, “there is no such especial promise given unto any, this work of composing prayer.”9 Owen’s explanation for why written prayers existed in corporate worship was simple: throughout human history since the fall, man has devised other ways to “worship” God than those prescribed by the Lord himself as “revealed in the Word of God.”10

“The Puritans possessed a vital zeal to worship God according to the prescriptions of Scripture.”

John Bunyan (1628–1688) likewise defended the regulative principle of worship, specifically opposing written prayers because he “did not find” them “commanded in the word of God.”11 Simply put, these Puritans forbade the use of written prayers in corporate worship because the practice was not prescribed in Scripture.

Written prayers are a Catholic and even Old Testament practice.

Second, Puritans believed the use of written prayers in corporate worship was a Catholic and Old Testament practice. For example, both Owen and Bunyan argued that the Church of England’s use of written prayers rendered it guilty of the Catholic Church’s error of worshiping according to human invention.12 Owen went even further to argue that it reduced worship “to the very state and condition wherein they were in Judaism” and therefore was antithetical to Christ’s saving work. For Christ “delivered his disciples from the yoke of Mosaical institutions,” and the very destruction of the temple in Jerusalem by the Romans in AD 70 was a providential indication that a transition had taken place in the worship of God. In short, the Old Testament pattern was literally “buried in the ruins of the city and temple,” making it impossible to worship God in that way.13

Prayer is chiefly inward.

Third, Puritans argued that the Book of Common Prayer could not facilitate what was chiefly an inward, spiritual, sincere engagement of the affections expressed in external words. Following the Act of Uniformity, John Bunyan was imprisoned for his nonconformity and was denied the opportunity to be released from prison because he would not promise to cease preaching according to Puritan principles. Bunyan’s opposition to the use of written prayers in corporate worship was a central point of his trial discussion with authorities, especially Sir John Keeling, which took place seven weeks after his initial imprisonment.

In Bunyan’s Discourse Touching Prayer (1662), published during his imprisonment, he argued that the use of written prayers opposed the very essence of true prayer that was to be “with the spirit and with understanding” (see 1 Corinthians 14:15).14 Citing texts like Jeremiah 29:12–13 and echoing John Calvin and Matthew Henry, Bunyan said, “Prayer is a sincere, sensible, affectionate pouring out of the heart or soul to God . . . for such things as God hath promised, or, according to the Word.”15 When he was asked by Keeling at his imprisonment trial if one could “pray with the spirit, and with understanding” using “the Common Prayer-book,” Bunyan replied that he was convinced “that it is impossible that all the Prayer-Books that men have made in the world should lift up or prepare the heart,” for “it is not the mouth that is the main thing to be looked at in prayer, but whether the heart be so full of affection and earnestness in Prayer with God.” When authorities defended the use of written prayers by arguing that “prayers made by men” “are good to teach, and help men to pray,” Bunyan replied that while “one man may tell another how he should pray,” neither he nor the prayer book could help that man “make his condition known to God” or “stirreth up in our hearts desires to come to God,” since that was the Spirit’s work to assist the believer in prayer (Romans 8:26).16

Indeed, Puritans believed that there was nothing distinctly spiritual about the utterance of specific familiar forms, for true spirituality involved engaging the affections in prayer, for only “then the whole man is engaged.”17 Since an emphasis on the importance of heart religion was a major theme laced throughout all of Puritan theology, it is not surprising that it would be central to their understanding of prayer.

Written prayers quench the Spirit.

Fourth, Bunyan and Owen argued that written prayers not only failed to facilitate true prayer, but quenched the Holy Spirit.18 Owen called written prayers “a stinted form of prayers,” whose “constant and unvaried use . . . may become a great occasion of quenching the Spirit.”19 Likewise, the Welsh Independent preacher Walter Cradock (c. 1606–1659) said that those who require using written prayers in public worship “restrain the Spirit of God in the Saints” as well as in the minister himself. For although a minister would come to the Lord in public prayer burdened to pour “out his soul to the Lord” for his congregation, he was “tied to an old Service Book” requiring him to “read” it until they “grieved the Spirit of God, and dried up” their “spirit[s] as a chip.”20

Ministers lead using Spirit-empowered public prayers.

Finally, Puritans argued that ministers were empowered to lead God’s people in corporate worship by the Spirit, rather than by the written words of man. Owen argued that the use of written prayers actually “render[ed] useless” Christ’s true means for leading in public prayer — namely, his “sending the holy Spirit . . . to enable” the minister to lead the congregation in “Divine Worship.”21 In Owen’s mind, there were two kinds of ministers: those who rightly administered the “holy things in his assemblies” by aid of the Holy Spirit, and those who ministered “by the prescription of a form of words” of men.22 Similarly, Bunyan said that even if ministers “had a thousand Common-Prayer-Books” but lacked the “Spirit,” they would “know not what [they] should pray for as [they] ought,” but would be “like the Sons of Aaron, offering with strange fire” (Levitcus 10:1–2).23 Owen and Bunyan likewise argued that since the Spirit must equip ministers with the ability to pray extemporaneously in public prayer, by extension those who relied on the prayer-book liturgy for public prayer lacked the necessary spiritual gifting from God for ministry.24 Puritans sought to even provide less-competent ministers with tools — like Nathaniel Vincent’s “Directions how to attain unto the gift of prayer and readiness of expression in that duty” — to help them grow in extemporaneous prayer.25

For Written Prayers in Corporate Worship

However, while the above arguments were pervasive throughout the Puritan movement, there were other Puritans — most notably, Richard Baxter (1615–1691) — who were open to using written prayers in corporate worship. While Baxter extolled extemporaneous prayer, understood these arguments against written prayers, and had significant concerns about (and desired to reform) the Book of Common Prayer, he nevertheless believed there were some advantages to using written prayers and, like John Calvin, composed set prayers for use in public worship.26 He even went so far as to compose a Puritan alternative to the Book of Common Prayer, complete with liturgical forms and written prayers drawn principally from Scripture and especially the Lord’s Prayer and the Ten Commandments.27 He drafted it in only two weeks and claimed that he only used the Bible, his biblical concordance, and the Westminster “Assemblies Directory.”28 He hoped that his Reformed Liturgy (as it would be called) might be a substitite prayer book that his fellow moderate Presbyterians and Anglican opponents could both support.29 What follows are some of Baxter’s arguments in favor of the use of written prayers in corporate worship.

Written prayers can prevent disorder and unnecessary repetition.

First, Baxter argued that the use of written prayers in worship could prevent disorder and unnecessary repetition in public prayer. He argued that the public “prayers of many a weak Christian” were so plagued by “disorder and repetitions and unfit expressions” that he preferred that they use written prayers.30 He claimed that other Puritans held the same position, saying that the Westminster Assembly divine Simeon Ashe (1595–1662) “hath often told us, that this was the Mind of the old Nonconformists, and that he hath often heard some weak Ministers so disorderly in Prayer, especially in Baptism and the Lord’s Supper, that he could have wish’d that they would rather use the Common-Prayer.”31

Written prayers can be a subordinate help to the Holy Spirit’s leading.

Second, Baxter argued that the use of written prayers could function as a “help” that was “subordinate to the Spirit’s help.”32 He said that written prayers could help Christians to pray in the same way as “spectacles” help others to see or even “sermon notes” help “weak memories” — even sharing candidly that set “forms are oft a help to me.”33 While he agreed with those who contended that true prayer is from the heart, he argued against those who opposed written prayers on this ground, saying that “it is a great error to think, that the gifts and graces of the holy spirit may not be exercised, if we use the same words, or if they be prescribed.”34

The Lord’s Prayer is a written prayer.

Third, the Puritans were perhaps most open to the use of the Lord’s Prayer in public worship since it was prescribed by Jesus himself as a pattern for how to pray. The Westminster Assembly differed over the issue of whether to include the Lord’s Prayer in the Directory of Public Worship. Some divines were happy to include it, while others were reticent to compel churches to use the Lord’s Prayer in worship. While the former divines believed it would serve as a model to train congregants how to pray, the later group believed, as Bunyan and Owen had argued, that not even the mere words of the Lord’s Prayer could incite true prayer from the heart, as this is the Spirit’s work.35 In the end, the Directory of Public Worship did not require ministers to use the Lord’s Prayer in worship, but rather “recommend[ed]” it, as the Westminster divine William Gouge stated, as “a pattern of prayer” and “a most comprehensive prayer . . . to be used in the prayers of the Church.’”36

Written prayers have historical precedent.

Finally, Puritans, particularly Richard Baxter and John Preston (1587–1628), argued that there was sufficient historical precedent throughout the history of the church of trusted Reformed divines using written prayers in corporate worship. For example, John Preston wrote, “There is no doubt that a set form [of prayer] may be used” in public worship, as Luther, Calvin, the early church, and “the Church at all times” had done.37 The diversity of views throughout the history of the church led Baxter to the conclusion that a minister’s conviction concerning written prayer was a secondary matter upon which he should be given liberty of conscience “at his discretion,” since written prayers are “neither in their nature, or by vertue of any promise of God” pertaining “to mens salvation.”38 Understanding this is key to understanding Baxter’s position. For although Baxter himself was affected by the Act of Uniformity, and he defended ministers ejected in 1662, before and after the great ejection he labored to cultivate unity through negotiating a mediating position that might be agreeable to Puritans and Anglicans alike.

Puritan Divines Closer Than Assumed

These disagreements between Puritans over the use of written prayers in public worship were often hidden from public view. One notable exception was a clash between Owen and Baxter that was a result of Baxter receiving a copy of Owen’s Twelve Arguments against any Conformity to Worship not of Divine Institution and Baxter’s responding with his own work.39

Geoffrey Nuttall has persuasively argued that, despite their expressed differences, “Baxter and Owen in fact were . . . close spiritually” on the issue.40 For example, despite all of his opposition to the use of written prayers in corporate worship, at one point Owen appears to soften, expressing that while he does not desire to express “any dissent about” or “to judge or condemn” either the practice of or those who used written prayers, he does argue that it is not necessary to use them.41 This led Nuttall to conclude that perhaps part of the reason Owen and Baxter differed over written prayer was because Owen never got over the fact that it was the Anglicans’ zeal for set prayers that lead to their “silencing, destroying, [and] banishing” his fellow Puritan brothers.42

Using Private Prayer Books

While Puritans were divided about the use of written prayers in public worship, they were, on the whole, quite sympathetic to using private prayer books in personal and family worship. Their reason was singular and simple: they believed these prayer books could be especially helpful in aiding individuals and families in learning how to pray according to Scripture. They said that just as inflatable floaties (what they called “bladders”) could be helpful in aiding a new swimmer to swim, so these private prayer books could aid Christians in learning how to pray in both private and family prayers.43 While dozens of Puritans published these prayer books, many of the most well-known ones — such as Henry Scudder’s The Christian’s Daily Walk, John Preston’s The Saint’s Daily Exercise, Nathaniel Vincent’s The Spirit of Prayer, and Lewis Bayly’s The Practice of Piety — were reprinted continually throughout the seventeenth century in England.

“Puritans were, on the whole, quite sympathetic to using private prayer books in personal and family worship.”

Probably the most well-known of these private prayer devotionals was A Method for Prayer (1710) by the Presbyterian minister Matthew Henry (1662–1714). One gets a sense of the importance Henry placed on prayer by the fact that he actually paused finishing his now-famous commentary on the entire Bible to write it. Henry intentionally composed his work using only scriptural language to demonstrate “the sufficiency of the Scripture to furnish us for us for every good work” and to teach Christians how to plead the promises of God. Nevertheless, he conceded that it was “often necessary to use other expressions in prayer besides those that are purely Scriptural.”44

Henry’s book is organized according to a rather familiar pattern — adoration, confession, petitions and supplications for ourselves, thanksgiving, intercession for others, and a conclusion — that followed the basic outline of the “public prayer before the sermon” in the Westminster Directory for Public Worship.45 His prayer book also contains written prayers for numerous occasions, including daily morning and evening prayers, prayers of parents for their children, shortened prayers children could use to learn to pray, a paraphrase of the Lord’s Prayer for children and youth, and specific prayers for special blessings and challenges.46 There were also prayers one could pray privately (or presumably publicly) in a corporate worship service before the Lord’s Supper and during marriage or funeral services.

Learning from the Puritans

We can learn at least four lessons from studying the Puritans’ perspectives on written prayers. First, the Puritans possessed a vital zeal to worship God according to the prescriptions of Scripture rather than one’s own preferences. In a day in which many churches worship God according to the latest worldly or churchly trends in order to boost church attendance, appeal to unbelievers, or be relevant to the culture, the Puritans understood that God is honored by and will bless only scriptural worship.

“The chief instrument that must be engaged throughout the whole of corporate worship is the heart.”

Second, the Puritans urge us to pursue God with all our heart in corporate worship. Having worshiped in a variety of Reformed church settings over the years, I have noticed that sometimes those most zealous to preserve the regulative principle of worship appear most lacking in the Puritans’ central conviction — namely, that the chief instrument that must be engaged throughout the whole of corporate worship (praying, singing, hearing the sermon) is the heart. They understood that those who simply go through the motions of worship are no different from the Pharisees, of whom Jesus said, “This people honors me with their lips, but their heart is far from me” (Matthew 15:8).

Third, this study of the Puritans teaches us that it is possible for faithful Reformed people to differ over secondary matters — and that sometimes those variances are the result of either ignorance of the existence of similar practices within their own Reformed tradition or differing personal experiences. For example, in addition to Nuttall’s insight above about Owen’s and Baxter’s differing personal experiences of persecution, it is possible that some Puritans were not aware that influential Reformed divines like John Calvin composed written prayers for corporate worship.

Finally, the Puritans encourage us to use Scripture to shape our prayers and engage our hearts in prayer. Whether this insight is familiar or new to you, I would encourage you to use either the Psalms, Matthew Henry’s Method of Prayer, or the Valley of Vision collection of Puritan prayers as means to cultivate praying the Scriptures in your daily devotional times with God.47 One section of Matthew Henry’s Method for Prayer that I find particularly insightful is his exhortation to begin one’s Scripture reading and prayer time by meditation on Scripture so as to engage one’s affections toward vital communion with God.48 This practice encourages the believer to fix his “attention” wholly upon “the Lord” and to “set [himself] in his special presence.” Therein, the believer can “attend upon the Lord without Distraction” and without his heart being “far from him when” he draws dear God in prayer.49 Ultimately, the chief lesson the Puritans teach us is to seek the Lord in prayer with the full assurance that as we draw near to him, he will draw near to us (James 4:8).

Audio Transcript

In the ninth chapter of the Gospel of John, we read a remarkable story of a man born blind who was made to see by the miraculous healing power of Christ. It was the kind of miracle, like so many of them, that could not be kept a secret. Word spread far and wide of what Jesus had done to this young man. But the power players of the day rejected the news. And so we read that

the Jews did not believe that he had been blind and had received his sight, until they called the parents of the man who had received his sight and asked them, “Is this your son, who you say was born blind? How then does he now see?” His parents answered, “We know that this is our son and that he was born blind. But how he now sees we do not know, nor do we know who opened his eyes. Ask him; he is of age [that is, he’s at least 13 years old]. He will speak for himself.” (His parents said these things because they feared the Jews, for the Jews had already agreed that if anyone should confess Jesus to be Christ, he was to be put out of the synagogue.)

So there’s a power move here, an intimidation factor at play. John continues,

Therefore his parents said, “He is of age; ask him.” So for the second time they called the man who had been blind and said to him, “Give glory to God. We know that this man is a sinner.” He [the healed man] answered, “Whether he is a sinner I do not know. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” (John 9:18–25)

“Was blind, but now I see” — a famous line, worked into John Newton’s famous hymn “Amazing Grace.” John 9 is a key chapter in explaining God’s plan for physical disability. But it’s also a key chapter for understanding how we as Christians, changed by the grace of God, can testify of Christ before the world’s most powerful and educated people. Here’s Pastor John to explain.

Here we see the full-blown courage of a beggar — a mere beggar standing up to the most religious, most educated people of the land. And we see here full-blown blasphemy in response to that kind of courage.

Testifying Power

Verse 24: “Give glory to God. We know that this man is a sinner.” In other words, “Join us in blasphemy, or we’ll excommunicate you out of the synagogue.” That’s not like being excommunicated out of Bethlehem, because do you know what happens if we do discipline on an unrepentant person? They go join another church. In spite of any letter we might send, there are churches of all kinds, and people just move on.

That can’t happen here. When you get kicked out of a synagogue, you get kicked out of Judaism. This is life. This is like being in a Muslim-dominated context. You can’t be there as a Christian. It won’t work. This is huge. Don’t just hear, “We’ll kick you out.” Getting rid of you from the synagogue means you’re out of the community. This is huge, what this man was standing up against.

“A personal testimony trumps arguments when they’re bad arguments — and they’re all bad when they’re against Jesus.”

Verse 25 is his most famous sentence. People all over the world know this sentence, even if they don’t know the Bible: “Whether he is a sinner I do not know. One thing I do know, that though I was blind, now I see.” I hope you feel something here. You don’t think of yourself as a theologian and you don’t think of yourself as a scientist, but you’ve got people coming against your faith with every manner of argument — historically, scientifically, experientially. They’re coming against you if you try to be a bold, regular witness.

And I want you to feel the power of this: a personal testimony trumps arguments when they’re bad arguments — and they’re all bad arguments when they’re against Jesus. Don’t be intimidated. This man was way less educated than everybody in all these rooms, and he’d been blind all of his life. And he just simply said with all boldness, “Look, you may know some things I don’t know, but I can see.”

Doctrines of Courage

One of the reasons I teach and preach on the doctrines of grace is because there are so many Christians who don’t know how they got saved, so that they don’t know they have a stunning testimony that they sheer believe. Your belief is a miracle; you didn’t choose it.

Of course, if you have a theology that says, “I did it,” then you’ve got no testimony to the power of God in your life. But at age 6 or 16 or 36, when you saw Jesus as needed and beautiful and sufficient, and you confessed, “I’m a sinner, I need you, I receive you,” a miracle happened. A miracle happened. That’s why these theological things matter.

You can stand up in front of the Senate and say, “I don’t know much about what you guys deal with here. I just know one thing: I was blind once, and now I see the glory of Christ as self-evidencing and compelling, and I will die for him. I’ll stake my life on the truth of what I’ve seen in Jesus.” That’s what you can say. That’s very powerful. It is here. It will come to a point where they can’t handle him anymore. That’s what he said. I hope you’re willing to say it. I hope you have enough understanding to say it, and if you don’t, I hope you study about how you got saved, so that you will know that if you’re saved, you can say it.

Blind Hearts

His courage becomes scorn. Verse 27: “Why do you want to hear it again? Do you also want to become his disciples?” Whoa, what are you doing, man? You’re going to get yourself killed. They’re very hostile, of course. Verses 28–29: “They reviled him, saying, ‘You are his disciple, but we are disciples of Moses. We know that God has spoken to Moses, but as for this man, we do not know where he comes from.’”

Now the controversy has revealed another deceit: They’re not disciples of Moses. They think they are. They’re not, because Jesus said in John 5:46, “If you believed Moses, you would believe me; for he wrote of me.” “You don’t know Moses, and you don’t know God. You talk about Moses. You read Moses. You talk about God. You read God’s word. And you don’t know God, because if you knew God and you knew Moses, you’d know me.”

Again, the controversy is revealing what’s really going on in the Jewish leaders’ hearts. Now we are seeing who’s really blind here. They take the first five books of their Bible, and they read them, and they don’t see anything. They’re blind. We’re watching a man whose sight is becoming clearer and clearer and clearer, and whose courage is becoming stronger and stronger, and we’re watching these Pharisees reveal more and more blindness. You don’t want to be a part of that.

Jesus in Pursuit

Jesus and the beggar have a conversation in verses 35–38, after the Jewish leaders cast the beggar out. What makes this conversation so amazingly significant is that Jesus sought him out and found him. Verse 34: “‘You were born in utter sin, and would you teach us?’ And they cast him out.” Now, that’s really serious. To whom will he turn when he’s just been cast out of the community? To whom will he turn?

He doesn’t have to turn anywhere. Jesus turns to him. We’ve seen this before, haven’t we? Jesus found him. Jesus seeks him. It is no accident that the next chapter is about the Good Shepherd who gathers his sheep. It’s no accident. John knows what he’s doing. He found him. “That’s one of mine. Nobody else wants him right now. I want him.” That’s what I’m praying he’ll do to you in the next five minutes of this sermon. He is after you. He is going to find you. That’s why you’re here. That’s why you’re there.

Jesus heard that they had cast him out, and having found him he said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?” He answered, “And who is he, sir, that I may believe in him?” Jesus said to him, “You have seen him, and it is he who is speaking to you.” He said, “Lord, I believe,” and he worshiped him. (John 9:35–38)

“Do you confess Christ openly and defend him with your simple testimony, ‘I was blind, and now I see’?”

Then the beggar is gone out of this story. He never says another word. We never see him again. The last thing he does is worship Jesus. I pray that’s the last thing I do. Jesus does the works of God. Jesus is the glory of God. Jesus is to be worshiped. That’s the point of the story. The beggar is blind. He calls Jesus a man. Then he calls Jesus a prophet. Then he defends him at huge risk to his life. And then he worships him after he is found by Jesus.

‘Finally, I Saw’

Jesus came into the world to seek worshipers. That’s why he’s here. Do you confess him openly and defend him with your simple testimony? No big apologetic reasoning. Some of you are called to that, but most of you aren’t. You’re just called to be witnesses. If you see a car hit a person, you can be a witness. You don’t need any education at all.

“I saw” — 95 percent of Christians are saved that way. No big argument — just, “I saw. Finally, I saw. I was reading the Gospels, and I couldn’t resist this man anymore. He was real. He’s real. He’s true. He’s exactly what I need. He’s what the world needs. He’s real. This is not made up. I saw.”

I simply ask, Do you confess him openly and defend him with your simple testimony, “I was blind, and now I see”?