Richard Sibbes
Richard Sibbes was born in Tostock, Suffolk, four miles from Bury St. Edmunds, in 1577.[1] He is the eldest son of Paul Sibbes and Joane. His father was a wheelwright who hoped Sibbes would be in the same field of occupation. Instead of following the footsteps of his father, young Sibbes, out of love for reading, would choose books over wooden wheels.[2] Truly enough, throughout his lifetime, books were part of Sibbes’ life.[3] Proof of this interest to books is his accomplishments as a lecturer [pastor], fellow tutor, vicar, and for obtaining various degrees in his academic education.
Sibbes’ legacy of his seven-volume work was collected by A. B. Grosart which was published from 1862 to 1864.[4] Sibbes’ ministries and his works spread throughout England even after his death. However, he was never married.
Sibbes died on July 5, 1635, in his chambers at Gray’s Inn.[5] J. I. Packer noted that Sibbes’ left more than two million words on paper after his death.[6]
Educational Background
Sibbes’ started studying at St. John’s College, Cambridge when he was eighteen, in 1595. He then proceeded to finish a Bachelor of Arts in 1599. He received a fellowship grant in 1601. Sibbes continued studying, finishing a Master of Arts degree by 1602.
Sibbes became a prominent preacher in Cambridge and got the endorsement to apply for a Bachelor of Divinity. After his defense and fulfilling the requirements, he earned this degree in 1610.[7] Furthermore, in almost two decades, Sibbes received his Doctor of Divinity in 1627 after returning from London for his mastership at St. Katherine.[8]
Ministerial Experience and Vocation
Sibbes’ conversion happened after hearing Paul Bayne’s sermon in 1603. Bayne succeeded William Perkins at St. Andrews, Cambridge.[9] During Sibbes’ stay in Cambridge, as a fellow, he handled and supervised five to six students for a tutorial.[10] Sibbes held various vocations such as being chaplain, lecturer, and got a promotion from mere fellow to senior fellowship. After being a senior dean at St. John, Sibbes became the master of St. Katherine’s College in 1626.[11]
As a preacher, Sibbes received his ordination in Norwich, in 1607. He became the minister of Thurston in 1608. Later, in 1610, Sibbes accepted the offer as a lecturer of Holy Trinity Church, Cambridge until he was called to be a lecturer at Gray’s Inn, London, in 1617.[12] This lectureship lasts until his death.
Even during Sibbes’ mastership at St. Katherine, he remained a lecturer at Gray’s Inn. In 1633, through the appointment of King Charles I, Sibbes became the vicar of Holy Trinity Church, Cambridge. The positions held by Sibbes were mastership at St. Katherine, a lecturer at Gray’s Inn, and vicar of Holy Trinity Church.
Influence of the Heavenly Doctor
Throughout Sibbes ministries, prominence followed as he influenced many Puritan ministers. Sibbes, as an influencer, is known to be the “pastor of pastors,” not just in the Church of England but even to Presbyterians and Independent Congregationalists.[13] Sibbes was responsible for John Cotton’s conversion in 1612.[14]
Moreover, he persuaded John Preston’s style in preaching, transforming from witty sermons to more plain but spiritual preaching.[15] Sibbes’ book, The Bruised Reed, encouraged Richard Baxter to gain settled-conviction on his conversion.[16] Likewise, Sibbes helped Thomas Goodwin, the chief editor of most of his works, to keep away from Arminianism.[17]
Sibbes’ ministry extends even to common people. Humphrey Mills, a layman, shared his testimony about Sibbes’ ministry. Mills was spiritually refreshed and brought to peace and joy after hearing Sibbes’ “sweet soul-melting Gospel-sermons.”[18] Sibbes’ encouragement did not end in the days of Puritans. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, one of the greatest preachers in the twentieth century, was grateful for Sibbes’ works. Lloyd-Jones, in his spiritual dryness, said that Sibbes’ books “quietened, soothed, comforted, encouraged, and healed [him].”[19]
Sibbes was a renowned Puritan throughout Cambridge, London, and even to Amsterdam. Mainly because of his various offices plus broad networks outside the church. He remained a moderate Puritan perceiving the Church of England as the true church. Sibbes encouraged other Separatists to return and warned the moderates not to dissent.
Yet many historians and scholars misinterpreted Sibbes in his theology and ministry. Thankfully, Mark Dever, in his recent work, argues contrary to many historians that Sibbes was dismissed in his ministry. Dever also concludes that Sibbes did not drift away from Calvinism, claiming that he was a thoroughly Reformed preacher and never became non-conformist, rather a moderate puritan.[20]
Sibbes, through his works, are still penetrating churches and seminaries up to this day. Recently, his seven-volume set was published by The Banner of Truth Trust in 2001. The best introduction for Sibbes’ works, personally, is his The Bruised Reed and the Smoking Flax. For Michael Reeves’ opinion, Sibbes is “the best introduction to the Puritans…. Reading him is like sitting in the sunshine: he gets into your heart and warms it to Christ.”[21]
References
[1] Alexander B. Grosart, “Memoir of Richard Sibbes, D.D.,” in Richard Sibbes, The Works of Richard Sibbes, ed. Alexander Grosart, 7 vols. (1862-1864; reprint, Carlisle, Pennsylvania: The Banner of Truth Trust, 2001), 1:xxvii.
[2] Joel Beeke, “Richard Sibbes on Entertaining the Holy Spirit,” in The Beauty and Glory of the Holy Spirit, ed. Joel Beeke and Joseph Pipa Jr. (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Reformation Heritage Books, 2012), 228. Cf. Joel Beeke and Mark Jones, A Puritan Theology: Doctrine for Life (Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage Books, 2012), chap. 36, Kindle.
[3] Joel Beeke and Randall Pederson, Meet the Puritans (Grand Rapids, MI: Reformation Heritage Books, 2006), 534-5.
[4] Mark Dever, “The Works of Richard Sibbes,” in You Must Read: Books that Have Shaped Our Lives (Carlisle, PA: The Banner of Truth Trust, 2015), 154.
[5] Grosart, “Memoir,” in Sibbes, Works, 1:cxxxi.
[6] J. I. Packer, foreword to Richard Sibbes: Puritanism and Calvinism in Late Elizabethan and Early Stuart England, by Mark E. Dever (Macon, Georgia: Mercer University Press, 2000), ix.
[7] Dever, Richard Sibbes, 37-38. Bachelor of Divinity, according to Dr. Shawn Wright is equivalent with Master of Divinity today, “Lectures in English Puritanism” (The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, Louisville, KY, Spring 2020), but the process is different. Dever noted in his work that Sibbes undergone two public preaching, one in English and another in Latin, and two defense topics chosen by the panelists.
[8] Grosart, “Memoir,” in Sibbes, Works, 1:cxi.
[9] Beeke and Pederson, Meet the Puritans, 534-5.
[10] Dever, Richard Sibbes, 30-31.
[11] Dever, 31-34, 46.
[12] Beeke and Pederson, Meet the Puritans, 534-6.
[13] Beeke, “Richard Sibbes on Entertaining the Holy Spirit,” 230.
[14] Dever, Richard Sibbes, 40.
[15] Beeke and Pederson, Meet the Puritans, 535-7.
[16] Richard Baxter, The Autobiography of Richard Baxter (Bedford St., London: J.M. Dent & Sons Ltd., 1931), 7. Baxter’s father bought Sibbes’ book from a peddler and gave it to Richard Baxter. Cf. Timothy K. Beougher, Richard Baxter and Conversion: A Study of the Puritan Concept of Becoming a Christian (Scotland, UK: Christian Focus Publications, 2007), 21.
[17] Dever, Richard Sibbes, 41.
[18] Ronald Frost, “The Bruised Reed by Richard Sibbes (1577-1635)” in Kelly M. Kapic and Randal C. Gleason, The Devoted Life: An Invitation to the Puritan Classics (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 2004), 80-81. Quoting from a collection of Puritan testimonials by John Rogers, Ohel or Bethshemesh, A Tarbernacle for the Sun (London, n.p., 1653), 410.
[19] D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, Preaching and Preachers (Grand Rapids, Michigan: Zondervan Publishing House, 1972), 175. Cf. Publisher’s Foreword to The Bruised Reed, by Richard Sibbes, x.
[20] Dever, Richard Sibbes, 211-8.
[21] Michael Reeves, “A Short Biography of Richard Sibbes,” in Richard Sibbes, Christ it Best; or, St. Paul’s Strait (Carlisle, PA: Banner of Truth Trust, 2012), 66.
you are not that special - the glory of ordinary christianity
I had a professor in seminary who had a knack for humbling first-year students. He enjoyed showing them they weren’t special, no matter what their Sunday school teachers and home churches had told them. In fact, this professor was so effective at humbling new seminarians, he developed a reputation for it. He was provocative and polarizing. He had his detractors around campus, and beyond. To some, he seemed cocky and headstrong. But others loved him dearly. Not because he walked the fine line between arrogance and purposeful provocation, but because they themselves had been wonderfully awakened. First they had been humbled by his jabs, and it hurt. It was disorienting. But as much as it smarted at first, they came to humble themselves and receive the uncomfortable truth. The professor’s shocking words proved to be the wounds of a friend. He was right. They weren’t that special — not in the ways that seminary students (and most humans) tend to think they are. You Are (Not) Special For many of us, one of the earliest messages we heard, the constant refrain of children’s books, the chorus of our parents (and especially grandparents), and likely even the message we heard in Sunday school, was essentially you are special . There’s an element of truth in it, of course. You are indeed special — as human, and especially as redeemed — in ways that redound to the glory of God. In relation to the animal kingdom, God made our human race special, in his own image . Even the angels marvel at the grace we’ve received in Christ (1 Peter 1:12). And in Christ, no doubt, you are special  to God — through being chosen before the foundation of the world, and then particularly redeemed by the sacrifice of Christ two millennia before you were born. And then you are three times special by the regenerating work of the Holy Spirit. Jesus died for his friends (John 15:13), his sheep (John 10:14–15), his bride (Ephesians 5:25). He loved the church with his special love and gave himself up for her. “God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love  with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ” (Ephesians 2:4–5). In Christ, you are not just loved but greatly so. And on the human level, children are indeed special to their own parents and grandparents. We grant that. It’s in God’s good design. Also, it’s worth acknowledging that a group of self-doubting humans and saints have a difficult time believing they are special in ways that really matter. They’ve been so beaten down by life in this world – or perhaps they’ve simply found low self-esteem to be a convenient excuse for coddling sin. To be human, and alive, is amazing. To be called a child of the living God by being joined to his Son, by faith alone, is scandalous. Chosen by God  before you even did anything good or bad! What wondrous love is this? But oh, how prone we can be, like first-year seminarians, to let such specialness go to our heads — to transpose it into ways that serve the flesh rather than the Spirit. Not That Special When sinners contemplate their own specialness, we don’t typically think about our relation to animals or angels, or what it means to be in Christ, or our particular specialness to family and friends. Rather, we often think we’re special compared to others  — because of our qualities. Our gifts. Our achievements. Our abilities. Bells that ring to our own glory. This is where we need to hear a clear, and sometimes forceful, voice say, in love, You are not that special . You are not an exception to the basic laws and ordinances of human society, and as a Christian, you are not an exception to the ordinary means and patterns of the Christian life. You are not a cut above the rank-and-file in the world, and especially in the church. You are not exceptional in the ways you like to tell yourself in silence. You are not special in the sense that ordinary, everyday, normal Christianity is no longer essential to you because of your qualities. You are not that special . You don’t have a special path to heaven or a special route through the toils and snares of this world. Just consider Jesus. He is indeed the Father’s special  Son. If anyone could plead special privilege, it would be the divine Son. And yet. And yet! He did not cling to his equality with God as a self-serving privilege or ask to be excused from the mission. He did not request a pass from poverty, suffering, or even torture. He became “obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Philippians 2:6–8). Do we claim to be his disciples, yet presume ourselves to be greater than our Master? Inconvenient Specialness How might we discern whether we are appropriating specialness  in the right places and ways? One test would be whether we tell ourselves we’re special in ways that are easy and convenient for the flesh. Do I presume I’ll get my way because I’m special? Should others follow my lead, without my earning their trust, because I’m special? Another way at it might be this: Do I love the specialness of humanity, and being Christ’s, only when it applies to me, but not when it applies to those I find most difficult to endure? Which gets at what may be one of the greatest indicators of humility: how we view the church. Not the big, universal, capital-C Church — the one that is often much easier to love. But your  church. The local church where God has placed you. The people God has picked to appear, and reappear, and reappear again, in your real-life story. Those faces. That church. With all the warts and frustrations and inconveniences you’re increasingly aware of. When you ponder the flesh-and-blood Christians you know, and worship with weekly, and share the Table with, do you think of yourself as special in distinction  to them? Or are you special with  them? Really Belong to His Body Local churches are wonderfully humbling collectives. And one of the chief ways God roughs up our souls, and keeps them in shape, and prepares them to welcome his humbling hand when it descends — and often brings the very conflicts that are his humbling work — is through really belonging to a particular, imperfect local body of fellow believers. Really belong. Really join. As a fellow sheep. (Pastors too. Humble ones think of themselves first and foremost as sheep, not shepherds. They rejoice not that the demons are subject to them in great acts of ministry, but that their names are written in heaven, Luke 10:20.) Among other blessings, one gift that the messy, often difficult life of the local church offers us, if we will let it, is the regular reminder that we’re not that special, not in whatever twisted ways we like to tell ourselves. We are indeed special to God with these people , but not in comparison with them. And what the down-to-earth life of the local church reminds us is how good it can be to be normal, and to remember, for our good, that no Christian is exempt from normal Christianity: from repentance, from trust in Christ alone for forgiveness, from the moment-by-moment help of his Spirit, from saturating our lives in the word of God, from daily availing ourselves of his ear in prayer, and from genuinely belonging to his body in a local church. Good to Be Normal Brothers and sisters, let’s rehearse for ourselves, as much as we need it, that we are indeed special, and at the same time not that  special, not in ways convenient to our flesh. And let’s celebrate that together with Jesus’s church, we are indeed special. You are special — you  plural. Jesus loved the church and gave himself up for her. He laid down his life for this sheep. Through faith in Jesus, we are joined to him, and not alone. And in him we also are joined to his people, his bride, his flock. He has loved us  (plural) with his special, electing, and effective love. We glory in this specialness, and die to sin’s temptation to think of ourselves as special in ways that swell our hearts with conceit.