Owen's heart

It's been a while since I've read any Owen, and I'm feeling the lack of weight and substance. Sinclair Ferguson made a comment somewhere that after he's read Owen he wonders why he spends time reading other theologians (or something like that). I can understand that (although I'm not sure I'd give up on the other theologians, but then again I'm sure neither would Ferguson). However, Owen's certainly got his difficulties, not least of which is he's hard to read. But he is rewarding, stimulating, and most importantly, he writes theology (and often very direct polemical theology) as a Christian man. When you read Owen you get the feeling that while his arguments are dense, complicated, and exhaustive (as well as being exhausting), his overarching purpose is to encourage you as a Christian, or to protect you from false teaching. The really important thing is not that you understand everything, but that you believe:

For my part, I had much rather my lot should be found among them who do really believe with the heart unto righteousness, though they are not able to give a tolerable definition of faith unto others, than among them who can endlessly dispute about it with seeming accuracy and skill, but are negligent in the exercise of it as their own duty.

The Doctrine of Justification by Faith – 5:63

Christologia - Chapter 3 (pt 2). The Glory of Christ

In the second half of this chapter, Owen turns to the place of faith in relation to the glory of God in Jesus. Faith, says Owen, is more excellent than any of the other powers of the soul, because it 'receives, assents unto, and rests in, things in their own nature absolutely incomprehensible', that is, the union of man and God in Jesus, and , as we shall see, that death of Jesus for us.

Owen goes so far as to say that:

...the more sublime and glorious - the more inaccessible unto sense and reason - the things are which we believe; the more are we changed into the image of God.

Owen isn't, I don't think, saying that if we believe really crazy things we'll be transformed into the image of God, but rather that things revealed, which are beyond sense and reason (a man rising from the dead, the union of God and man in one person, the substitution of the innocent for the guilty, etc.), when believed, is that which transforms us. The exercise of faith does something to the believer:

Hence we find this most glorious effect of faith, or the transformation of the mind into the likeness of God...

Even those whose 'comprehensive abilities are weak and contemptible' are able to respond to God in faith, and by doing so are transformed into the likeness of Christ. Faith in Christ is for all, regardless of academic standing or cognitive ability.

Some however, observes Owen, disagree, saying that things should only be believed if they 'be obvious and comprehensible unto our reason'. Such an approach arises from our own pride, is an 'invention to debase religion; and is designed to destroy the 'principal' mysteries of the Gospel' - the trinity and the incarnation. You can't help but get the sense that Owen is here saying that you're much better off with 'weak and contemptible' 'comprehensive abilities' if the alternative is to reject faith on the basis of 'reason'.

Yes, says Owen, things should be believed if they are reasonable - particularly in the areas of philosophy, etc. But it is a different matter for 'spiritual and heavenly mysteries'. In these areas only faith is the appropriate instrument of appropriation, and those without faith reject them - the reason people don't believe is because they don't have faith (2 Thes 3:2). By faith, says Owen, we receive these mysteries, and

...where this faith is, the greatness of the mysteries which it embraceth heightens its efficacy, in all its blessed effects, upon the soul.

Faith breeds faith. Faith strengthens faith. Faith grasps the glory of the person of Christ (2 Cor 4:6) as revealed in the gospel, and we behold his glory by faith alone.

And those whose view [of Jesus] is steadfast, who most abound in the contemplation by the exercise of faith, are thereby "changed into the same image, from glory to glory" - or are more and more renewed and transformed into the likeness of God, so represented unto them.

Ultimately, notes Owen, we will have sight (1 John 3:2) - 'faith begins what sight shall perfect hereafter'. But while faith and sight are different means, their object is the same - the glory of God in Christ - the 'will and wisdom of God'. Faith, Owen seems to be saying, is preparation (he speaks of it as an inititation) for sight - it raises and perfects the mind more than any other spiritual exercise.

Owen then appears to change tack very sharply - not a untypical things for him to do - although I think he is developing a tangent which still relates to faith. Christ, notes Owen, is the foundation and grounds of divine wisdom, and therefore is the only place 'wherein alone faith can find rest and peace.' For that is what we long for - rest and peace - Owen ties this rest and peace in with salvation in the words of the Philippian jailer. Only in Christ is there oblation and intercession for sinners, and Christ's death is the death of God himself for us. When we are reminded of our salvation, observes Owen, it is the person of Jesus that we are pointed to - 1 John 2:1-2 'If any man sin, we have an advocate with the Father, Jesus Christ the righteous: and he is the propitiation for our sins'. Owen points us to the fact that is the person of Jesus Christ who has died for us - our faith is faith in him, because he has provided the sacrifice we require.

Owen rounds out the chapter by showing his readers how faith actually does give rest and peace. Starting with the realisation that we are sinners, and by God's work in us, (is this, possibly, the beginning of faith breeding faith?) we realise that we require relief from this sin and its consequences. This relief, says Owen, is proposed in the gospel. But:

When any person comes practically to know how great a thing it is for an apostate sinner to obtain the remission of sins, and an inheritance among them that are sanctified, endless objections through the power of unbelief will arise unto his disquietment.

And it is at this point, says Owen, that faith comes into its own. For faith in Christ, in what he has done, in him as the wisdom and goodness of God in our salvation, is the only thing which can give rest and peace and comfort:

On this consideration of him, faith apprehends Christ to be - as he is indeed - the power of God, and the wisdom of God, unto the salvation of them that do believe; and therein does it find rest with peace.

Owen's work is always hard going, but in the space of four pages, he takes us on a wonderful journey as to the efficacy and aptness of faith in Christ. Faith transforms us into the image of Christ (although I hope Owen will go on to explore more how this is the case). Faith is the right response to revelation; it prepares us for the sight we will have when we are with God in glory, for the object of faith and sight are the same. And faith is the only thing suited to our greatest concern - how might we be saved - how might we find rest and peace before God. For faith fixes our eyes upon Jesus, the wisdom and goodness and power of God for the salvation of all who believe. I hope you saw, too, the way in which Owen moved from theology to pastoral care. His concern is not just to say that Jesus is great, or that faith is important, but to show his readers how these truths affect them in their walk with Christ. Faith in Christ is glorious because it is faith in Christ. Because Christ is glorious, because what he has done for us and for our salvation is glorious.

Christologia - Chapter 3 (pt 1). The Glory of Christ

It's been a while, but Cam and I are about to launch back into Owen's Christologia. We're up to chapter 5, which is hard work, but before we get there I thought I'd post some thoughts on chapters 3 and 4.

Chapter 3 is where Owen turns to focus on the person of Jesus as the foundation for all true religion (religion being, according to Owen, to glorify God as God). God himself is the primary foundation of all religion, but not in essence - rather God as revealed. Essentially, Owen is saying that God is only known as he is, by what he does. Therefore, God is known, or his power, wisdom, goodness is known, in creation, to a certain extent, but He is known most perfectly in the person of Christ. Not Christ as eternally generated (for this is an internal and eternal act of God), but rather Christ as incarnate. This is the mystery of godliness (1 Tim 3:16), and Owen has some wonderfully beautiful language to describe it. Some examples are needed:

But this assumption of our nature into hypostatical union with the Son of God, this constitution of one and the same individual person in two natures so infinitely distinct as those of God and man - whereby the Eternal was made in time, the Infinite became finite, the Immortal mortal, yet continuing eternal, infinite, immortal - is that singular expression of divine wisdom, goodness and power, wherein God will be admired and glorified unto all eternity.

Go on, read it again. Read it out loud. And if that doesn't make you smile and whisper prayers of praise and adoration to our gracious Father, you've got something wrong with you.

This mystery, continues Owen, has a veil drawn over it in Scripture. It is declared without being described - it is a mystery. Statements are made like john 1:14 - the Word became flesh and dwelt among us.

But what Word was this? That which was in the beginning, which was with God, which was God, by whom all things were made, and without whom was not any thing made that was made; who was light and life. This Word was made flesh, not by any change of his own nature or essence, not by a transubstantiation of the divine nature into the human, not by ceasing to be what he was, but by becoming what he was not, in taking our nature to his own, to be his own, whereby he dwelt amongst us.

This indeed, says Owen, is wisdom. However, some, he observes, say that it isn't. That if the only way by which humanity might be reconciled is by the incarnation of the divine, then there is no wisdom in it. Owen's reply is superb. 'Vain man indeed would be wise, but is like the wild ass's colt.' Owen then turns to Hebrews 1:1-3 and Isaiah 6 to see the glory of the one who was made flesh.

This, summarises Owen, is the glory of the Christian religion. This is where God might truly be worshipped. True religion, he observes, existed in the garden. Being made in the image of God, man was able to glorify God, but because this image was not 'united to himself in a personal union', it quickly fell. It required a firmer foundation - a foundation whereby the human and divine were united - permanently, perfectly, so that true worship might be offered. No 'gracious relation could be stable and permanent' unless 'our nature was assumed into personal union and subsistence with himself'. This is wonderfully true, and a helpful corrective to our (post)modern thinking about relationships in general, and our worship of God in particular. Owen is here carrying on thinking about divine-human relationships in a way which he more fully developed in Communion with God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost (published some 21 years earlier). To worship, know, and love God qua God requires being drawn into, united with, the one whom we seek to worship, know, and love. While he doesn't address it here, the work of the Holy Spirit is hugely significant here.

Owen's point, however, is the centrality of the hypostatic union to our relationship with, and true worship of, God. There was true worship post-fall, observes Owen, for the cult was revealed by God. However, it all pointed to Christ, both in promise and the outward institutions associated with it. Heb 1:1-3 again. Only in Christ, the God-man, in whom the divine has united himself with the creature, is the real foundation of true worship. In the rest of the chapter Owen will go on to describe how faith is the right response and action in light of the mystery of Godliness. But that will have to wait until tomorrow!

Christologia - Chapter 2. Opposition to the Church

It’s been a while since Owen has featured – on the blog that is – Cam and I are still drinking and reading the great one – but the blogging is a little behind. That said, I’ll try and fill you in on chapter two (although it will involve some skim reading on my part (of Owen) and that’s never a good thing).

Building on the foundation he set of Peter’s confession of Christ, and Jesus’ words to Peter, Owen addresses part of those words – that is, that the ‘power and policy of hell’ will be ever raging against the church built on the person, office and grace of the Lord Jesus. He identifies that in both rage and subtlety, Satan uses two agents in his attacks – the unbelieving world (from outside the church) and heresies (from within).

Starting with the attacks from outside, Owen rightly sees that Jesus himself was victim to these – first in his temptation, then in his crucifixion. And, as the master, so too the servants: ‘And he hath assured his followers that such, and no other (at least for the most part) shall be their lot in this world.’ And yet in these attacks Satan cements his own undoing. First and most obviously in the cross, but also I would add, in the strengthening of our faith in the one who has overcome the evil one.

The early church was also victim to these outwards attacks – first from their Jewish countrymen – then from the Roman Empire. And I’m sure had Owen been writing now he would have listed page upon page of the atrocities committed against our brothers and sisters. But he isn’t, and instead turns to the other attacks – ‘by pernicious errors and heresies.’ Here we get an overview of many of the heresies of the first four centuries, and Owen helpful compartmentalises them. There were attacks which introduced other doctrines and ‘notions of divine things’ – gospel plus heresies if you will. Other attacks focused specifically on the denial of the divine nature – upon Jesus not being pre-existent (Ebionism) upon him being a lesser divine being (Arianism), upon his human nature being questioned (Docetism). Lastly, Owen sees that there were attacks upon the hypostatic union (that Jesus was one person with two natures) – most notably says Owen was Nestorianism.

And then, like all good theologians, Owen takes the lessons of the past and recognises that there are present situations where these same issues are coming to a head. He lists a number:

1. He identifies the attacks the Socinians make on the divine nature of Jesus.
2. Owen also sees that many around him ‘expressly deny not his divine person, yet seem to grow weary of any concernment therein’. That is, people are happy to be spiritual, to be religious, but to do so without any recourse to Jesus himself. They are, suggests Owen, implicitly denying the divine nature of Jesus, and therefore the foundation of true religion.
3. Some prefer reason, and say that ‘the common notions of Divine Being and goodness will guide men sufficiently unto eternal blessedness’. It’s a Mick Dundee ‘Me and God – we’re mates’ approach.
4. Some (and here I struggle to understand Owen) it appears, ‘have so ordered the frame of objective religion, as that it is very uncertain whether they leave any place for the person of Christ in it or no.’ I think what he means is that some have their theological systems – their ways of relating to God and knowing him – so sown up, that the personal mediatorial work of Christ is redundant.
5. Others so focus on the religiosity of religion – on the form and outwards trappings – and on the discipline of personal holiness – that Jesus is effectively unnecessary. The only place Christ has in this pattern is as an example of how to be good.
6. Owen also sees that people are encouraged in their displacement of Christ. Writers suggest alternative schemes of religion, those who protest and assert the centrality of Jesus are mocked, and love for Christ ‘is traduced as a mere fancy and vapour of distempered minds or weak imaginations.’ The idea of ‘preaching Chris is become a term of reproach and contempt.’
7. Lastly, Owen recognises that the cause, or ‘that which all these things tend unto and centre in, is that horrible profaneness of life – that neglect of all Gospel duties – that contempt of all spiritual graces and their effects…’ That is, people’s doctrine is screwed up because their lives are screwed up. Doctrine often follows practice. People want to live or behave a certain way, and soon their theology is used to justify it.

And of course, we would have to be blind to not see the similarities with our time. And not because we are reading ourselves into history, but because Satan is doing what Jesus promised he would do – raging against God’s church. What denomination doesn’t have someone in an established position who would deny the divinity of Jesus? What church doesn’t have a member who thinks that we should just follow Jesus example and love each other? Who hasn’t spoken to a neighbour or friend or family member and heard a self-justifying – ‘I do my best – I don’t need Jesus – God loves a try-er.’ God’s church is still attacked – Satan is still throwing himself against her gates.

Owen’s purpose is not only to bolster us as we stand firm on Christ, but also to equip those who ‘declare and represent [Christ] unto men in the office of the ministry’. His concern is theological, and therefore necessarily pastoral – so that ministers might stop people from wandering away from Jesus in the face of these attacks. The way he will do that is to set forth ‘some few things concerning the person of Christ’ (sure, if by ‘some few things’ you mean 400 pages!). Owen states three things before he does this: First, he recognises that he might go about things in a way different to how others might address the topic. Second, the topic he is about to embark upon is unsearchable – he makes no attempt to understand the person and work of Christ perfectly. ‘Only I shall endeavour to represent unto the faith of them that do believe, somewhat of what the Scripture doth plainly reveal – evidencing in what sense the person of Christ is the sole foundation of the church.’ Lastly, he is not going to attack the people who attack the church in the ways he has set forth (he’s done that elsewhere). Rather, he is going to attack their conviction – he’s playing the ball, not the man.

Owen’s point in this chapter has been to set out the truth of Jesus’ words to Peter. Satan has, is, and always will attack the church. But our comfort and hope comes from the rest of Jesus’ words. The church is built upon Him. The living Lamb is our foundation, the conqueror of death is the one upon whom our faith is built, and therefore we do not need to fear. And as we travel with Owen to see the glory of Christ, may we be strengthened in our faith, and equipped in our ministry to proclaim Jesus as the only ground of true religion – the only basis for confidence before the face of God.

Owen and a Pint

As many of you know, on Fridays I am required to attend a Clinical Pastoral Education course. People talk about their feelings. A lot. Sometimes there are tears. To be honest I’m not a huge fan (but I am learning stuff). However, there is one aspect of Fridays that I look forward to. A friend of mine (a great guy who took over running Christianity Explored from me at St John’s, and who, might I add, instigated this), meet up for an hour to drink beer and chat about John Owen. I imagine it's a bit like coming out of purgatory into glory (if you're into that sort of thi. We’re reading through Christologia, and I thought that given we’re spending a fair amount of time reading it and thinking about it, it would be worth letting you know what the great one has to say.

Goold (Owen’s editor) states that Owen’s purpose is to ‘illustrate the mystery of divine grace in the person of Christ’ (Works, 1:2). Owen himself states that his purpose is to ‘plead and vindicate’ the ‘eternal truth of God concerning the mystery of his wisdom, love, grace, and power, in the person and mediation of Christ, with our duties towards himself therein’. (Works, 1:5).

Owen writes extensively in the prologue setting out what he is going to do, as well as reminding readers about the historical (i.e., first four centuries) opposition to Christ. I’ve taken some notes but can’t find them right now, so let’s get to the meat of it.

In chapter one Owen starts with addressing Peter’s confession of Christ in Matthew 16:16. Owen sees that Peter’s confession contains the heart of the Christian faith – it identifies that Jesus is both God and man, and also contains his offices towards the church. I’ve already commented on Owen’s insightful point that it isn’t an inability to understand that puts people in danger, but adding or subtracting things to this confession.

A number of points that Owen identifies about Peter’s confession of faith. First, it comes about by revelation, and it brings blessing. Second, and contrary to Roman Catholicism, it is not Peter but Christ who is the foundation of faith. Owen lists four reasons – one exegetical, one on the humanity of Peter (cf. Hebrews 7:8, 23-24), one on the basis of the Old Testament only ever referring to one rock (and Jesus clearly being that rock from elsewhere in the NT), and the last showing that if indeed Peter was the rock, look how he was treated by Jesus only a few verses later ‘get behind me Satan’.

Owen then turns to a positive statement regarding Peter’s confession, which essentially sets out where he is going to go over the next few chapters. First, the person of the Christ, the Son of God, as vested with his offices, is the foundation upon which the church is built. Second, the church will always be opposed. But, third, this opposition will never prevail.

Finally, Owen stresses the nature of the foundation – it is both real and doctrinal. By real, he picks up on Calvin’s idea of a mystical union. We are really united to the rock by faith and our life comes from him. And by doctrinal Owen means ‘that the faith or doctrine concerning him and his offices is that divine truth which in a peculiar manner animates and constitutes the Church of the New Testament: Eph. ii. 19:22’ (Works, 1:34).

Who and what we are as Christians, as the church, is grounded in who and what Christ is to us. Him we confess, him we are united to, and upon him the church is built.

A Reason for Unbelief

Some thoughts from Owen on Peter's confession of faith (Matt16:16) which are apt both for Easter and the state of the church worldwide.

The danger of men's souls lieth not in a disability to attain a comprehension of longer or more subtile confessions of faith [than Peter's], but in embracing things contrary unto, or inconsistent with, this foundation thereof. Whatever it be whereby men cease to hold the Head, how small soever it seem, that alone is pernicious.

The importance of being simple

I was chatting to a guy here in Methven this morning, a good solid New Zealand farmer, who is doing some study on the gospels at the Bible College of New Zealand. I got to know him when he visited our church and borrowed Blomberg's Jesus and the Gospels for his course. I asked him how the course was going, and how he was finding Blomberg.

"Great" he replied. "I'm not an intellectual - I don't want to hear fancy language. But he [Blomberg] helps me understand who Jesus is".

Let us pray that people would walk out of our churches, and away from conversations with us saying the same thing. Particularly this Easter, let us speak simply and clearly the gospel message of the death and resurrection of God's Son.

Owen's words are a timely reminder for those of us fortunate enough to have spent time studying theology:

By some men's too much understanding, others are brought to understand nothing at all.
From Sermon: The Strength of Faith. Works 9:20.

Pray that that wouldn't be us, but that we would boldly preach that simple message that sinners can be forgiven, prisoners set free, and rebels reconciled.

Taylor on Reinker on Ferguson on Owen on Saving Faith

Once you trace it all back, Sinclair Ferguson has made a number of comments on Owen's view of saving faith. Read them here.

Even better, read Owen himself here.

Defining Faith

One of the great but difficult things about study is the way in which preconceived ideas get knocked over so easily! Consider one aspect of John Owen’s thinking about faith.

Some scholarly opinion would suggest that Owen, becuase he is what is known as a 'reformed scholastic', would first want to define faith. This is so that he could then break it down into its different parts and examine it, much like engineer taking a machine apart so that he might find out exactly how it works.

Owen, however, takes the opposite position, preferring descriptions over definitions:

…receiving on Christ, leaning on him, rolling ourselves or our burden on him, tasting how gracious the Lord is, and the like, […] convey a better understanding of the nature, work, and object of justifying faith, […] than the most accurate definitions that many pretend unto; some whereof are destructive and exclusive of them all. (John Owen, The Doctrine of Justification by Faith, 107).

He said this in a sermon which he preached on Romans 4:20:

And whereas the general way, in treating of faith, is, for the most part, to use strictness of expression, that so it may be delivered in a philosophical exactness; the constant way of the Holy Ghost is, by metaphorical expressions, accommodations of it to things of sense and daily usage in the meanest, to give a relish and perception of it to all that are interested in it. (John Owen, Sermon: The Strength of Faith, 20-21)

Owen wants to first define faith for, I think, two reasons. First, Owen recognises that in the Bible the Holy Spirit has chosen to give us ‘metaphorical expressions’ of things rather than exact definitions. Owen doesn’t want to, in his words, ‘…embrace such senses of things [faith] as are inconsistent with them [the metaphorical expressions], and opposite unto them.’ Owen’s primary concern is to be faithful to the biblical articulation of faith.

Second, Owen first defines faith because at its heart faith is active. To draw a somewhat arbitrary distinction, what faith does is of more significance than what faith is. Because faith is what the believer does towards God, and is therefore experiential, it is better described than defined. This is because, at its very core, faith is relational. Faith for Owen is always in the person of God, specifically in the person of Christ, ‘the first and principal object of faith’.

Here is a great lesson for us who are of a more conservative evangelical bent, especially those who are involved in the academic study of theology. While we rightly want to understand our faith and to be able to describe how it works, Owen reminds us that this is of secondary importance. The wonder of faith is not what it is, but what it does - it unites us to Christ, draws us into Communion with God, and brings to us all the blessings of God in Christ.

Transforming theology

I read recently the outstanding collection of essays entitled Always Reforming (ed. A.T.B. McGowan; Leicester: IVP, 2006). While there are a number of particularly outstanding essays, I was struck by the recurring theme of the necessity of the theologian himself being changed in the theological task. In Gamble’s essay on Systematics and Biblical Theology, he notes that ‘… “theology”, by its very nature transforms the student’ (emphasis added). Of course the theologian must be self-aware in other ways also (their cultural and epistemological presuppositions that they bring to the text; the need to do theology within the community of the church, etc.), but it seems to me that the primary concern of the theologian in the theological task is to sit under and be changed by the Scriptures, which ‘judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart’ (Heb 4:12b).

This has really come home to me lately in wrestling with some work I’m doing on John Owen. In the stress of formulating a research method and seeking to identify and define a particular issue to address, I have been aware that I have slipped away from being transformed by the very task of theology. Of course studying Owen is not the same as studying Scripture, but both he and I share the same goal – to glorify God and declare his greatness as revealed in his Word. I think I need to spend more time on my knees as I read.