GIP Library icon

LOG IN TO REVIEW
About the Book


"Getting to Know God" by Novel Hayes is a spiritual guide that explores the ways in which individuals can deepen their relationship with God through prayer, meditation, and self-reflection. The book offers practical advice and exercises to help readers connect with their spiritual side and experience the presence of God in their lives. Hayes encourages readers to embrace faith, trust in God's plan, and cultivate a sense of peace and gratitude.

John Owen

John Owen John Owen’s life was incredibly difficult. Born in 1616 and dying in 1683, Owen lived through the deaths of his first wife and all of his children, several of whom died in very early childhood. He supported his last surviving daughter when her marriage broke down. He contributed to a political revolution, watched it fail, saw the monarchy restored and wreak a terrible revenge on republicans, and lived in and around London during the persecution that followed. For twenty years he would have seen the decapitated heads of his friends on display around the city. He died fearing that the dissenting churches had largely abandoned the doctrine of the Trinity and justification by grace alone through faith alone in Christ alone; and, with Charles II about to be replaced by his openly Catholic brother James, believing that the English Reformation was almost over. Owen was one of the most published writers in the seventeenth century. He published around 8 million words. These writings included books on theology and spirituality, politics and economics, and ranged in length from the largest commentary ever published on the epistle to the Hebrews to a short Latin poem that has never been reprinted. For not all of Owen’s works have been kept in print. The most widely circulating nineteenth-century edition, most of which is published by the Banner of Truth, did not include Owen’s sermon manuscripts that are kept in various English libraries, nor the book for children that Owen published in 1652. Owen was one of England’s earliest children’s authors. The catechisms that Owen published (1645) outlined what he expected children in his congregation to know. These catechisms were published before the Westminster Assembly published its better-known examples. But Owen’s catechisms are in many ways simpler. The Primer (1652), which Owen prepared after the death of several of his children during the years of poor harvests and disease at the end of the 1640s, showed what Owen expected of an ideal Christian home. Its routine would be built around Bible reading and prayer, he believed, and his little book included sample prayers that children could learn to pray in mornings, evenings, and at meals. Owen argued that those who led church services should take account of the needs of children. Services that were too long, he believed, did no one any good. Adult believers should not need written prayers, he believed, and these should be banned from public worship. But children were different and needed all the help they could get. Owen enjoyed many warm friendships. His social network included many of the most famous writers in seventeenth-century England. Among his friends and rivals were John Milton, Andrew Marvell, John Bunyan, and Lucy Hutchinson. Owen fell out with Milton and became the subject of one of his sonnets. Owen helped Marvell publish one of his most controversial political pamphlets. He encouraged his publisher, Nathanial Ponder, to publish Bunyan’s Pilgrim’s Progress. And he appears to have supported Lucy Hutchinson during her move into London, when she attended and took notes upon his preaching and translated large parts of his Theologoumena Pantodapa (1661)—a translation of which has been published with the title Biblical Theology. Owen’s letters reveal his kindness and care as a pastor, especially to mothers grieving their children’s death. Owen was deeply political. He preached to Members of Parliament on the day after the execution of Charles I, and pinned his hopes for the reformation of church and society on their efforts to transform England into a protestant republic. During the 1650s, under the leadership of Oliver Cromwell, Owen served on important committees that sought to establish a religious foundation for the new regime. But he grew dismayed by the ways in which the Cromwell family, and the administration they led, seemed to turn away from godly values. In 1658, he worked with leading army officers to create a crisis that, he likely hoped, would call the regime back to its earlier ideals. It failed, and instead created the crisis that was resolved by the restoration of the monarchy, the return of Charles II, and the persecution of dissenters that followed. During the Restoration, Owen kept his head down, and, as persecution slackened in the later 1660s, published pamphlets that argued that dissenters were the economic lifeblood of the English nation. But he was chastened by his attempts at political intervention and came increasingly to realize that his focus should be on things eternal. Owen often changed his mind. As his developing attitudes to political intervention suggest, Owen committed himself to some beliefs and behaviors that he came to regret. In his early years, he changed his churchmanship from Presbyterianism to Congregationalism. He innovated as a Congregationalist, installing as a co-elder and preacher a man who would not be ordained for several years. He argued for the weekly celebration of the Lord’s Supper, though it is not clear that he ever persuaded any of his congregations to practice it. He thought carefully about the end times and came to believe that, in the latter days, a large number of Jewish people would be converted to Christianity and would return to live in the Promised Land. He dismissed a great deal of discussion about the millennium, but became convinced that the binding of Satan had yet to be achieved. Owen changed his mind because he kept on studying the Bible. Owen was biblical, through and through, and depended just as much on the Holy Spirit. He certainly believed in a learned ministry–after all, he had taught theology at Oxford and done his best to promote godliness within the student body. But he also trusted the Holy Spirit to guide ordinary Christians in small group Bible studies that did not need to be policed by a formally trained expert. Aside from his own Bible study, which advanced on the serious scholarship represented by the three thousand titles that were included in the catalog of his library published soon after his death, Owen encouraged church members to meet together to study Scripture in private. Owen trusted the Bible and the work of the Spirit after writing about both. Owen was not a philosophically-driven, rationalist theologian. His writing abounds in biblical citations. It is molded and contoured by biblical revelation. But he warned that Christians could approach their study of the Bible with absolutely no spiritual advantage to themselves. Christians who approached the study of the Bible without absolute dependence upon the Spirit who inspired and preserved it would gain no more benefit than Jewish readers did from their Scriptures, he argued. Christians should never choose between entire dependence upon the Bible and the Spirit. Owen believed that the goal of the Christian life was knowing God. Before Owen, no one had ever shown clearly how Christians relate to each person of the Trinity. Owen described the goal of the gospel as revealing the love of the Father, who sent the Son as a redeemer of his people, who would be indwelt, provided with gifts, and united together by the Spirit. Owen’s Communion with God is among his most celebrated achievements—and no wonder. It is the exhalation of his devotion to Father, Son, and Spirit, and the discovery of the limitless love of God. Owen is much easier to read than many people imagine. There is a mystique to Owen—a widespread feeling that his books are too difficult and best left to expert theologians. But Owen’s greatest books were written as sermons for an audience of teenagers. Publishers have begun to modernize Owen’s language in new editions of his works. Now more than ever, it’s time to pick up Owen and find his encouragement for the Christian life.

Uncommon Evangelical

It is often difficult to know how to navigate between religious factions on the right and the left. To the right may be those who emphasize good doctrine but seem to stand at arm’s length from the world. To the left may be those who emphasize social engagement and activism but seem to have compromised theological fidelity. Yet we are not the first generation of evangelicals to grapple with this tension. The evangelicals of the early twentieth century also found themselves uncomfortably sandwiched between two increasing extremes. But, by God’s providence, several evangelical theologians in the mid-twentieth century began championing a different way. The most influential of them was Carl F.H. Henry. Henry was a brilliant theologian, journalist, seminary professor, and evangelical luminary, best known as the intellectual giant who served as the first editor-in-chief of Christianity Today, the magazine founded by Billy Graham. One of the magazine’s later editors, David Neff, said, “If we see Billy Graham as the great public face and generous spirit of the evangelical movement, Carl Henry was the brains.” More than anyone else, Henry set forth compelling intellectual arguments in favor of a new strand of evangelicalism — an evangelicalism that combined passion for right doctrine with passion for cultural engagement. Henry emphasized both evangelism and social activism. He insisted that evangelicals prioritize both theological scholarship and practical ministry training. And he modeled how to properly challenge those with whom you disagree, calling evangelicals to do so with kindness and humility. Henry gives us a blueprint for how we can be committed to both orthodoxy and orthopraxy. Fiery Bolt of Lightning Carl Ferdinand Howard Henry was born on January 2, 1913, to German immigrants and grew up in Long Island, New York. He was baptized in the Episcopal church and attended Sunday school, but religion was not important in the Henry household. After graduating high school in 1929, Henry began work as a freelance reporter. Within three years, he was the editor of a major newspaper in Long Island. He had become a “hard-nosed journalist given to pagan pleasures,” as Timothy George writes in Essential Evangelicalism (9). One day in 1933, however, Henry was sitting alone in his car during a violent storm, when a lightning strike frightened him. He described the experience like this: A fiery bolt of lightning, like a giant flaming arrow, seemed to pin me to the driver’s seat, and a mighty roll of thunder unnerved me. When the fire fell, I knew instinctively the Great Archer had nailed me to my own footsteps. Looking back, it was as if the transcendent Tetragrammaton wished me to know that I could not save myself and that heaven’s intervention was my only hope. (Confessions of a Theologian, 45–46) Soon after, Henry had a long conversation with a young evangelist named Gene Bedford. After that conversation, Henry embraced Jesus as Savior. Henry enrolled at Wheaton College in 1935, where he met Helga Bender, the daughter of Baptist missionaries. Carl and Helga married in 1940, beginning a 63-year marriage. He also developed a friendship with fellow classmate Billy Graham during his Wheaton years. Their friendship would last a lifetime and yield much fruit. After earning a BA and an MA from Wheaton as well as a BDiv and a ThD from Northern Baptist Theological Seminary, Henry pursued a PhD at Boston University. It was during his time in Boston that he strengthened his friendship with Harold John Ockenga, pastor of the historic Park Street Church. Together, Henry, Ockenga, and Graham became the three primary leaders of the resurgence of evangelicalism in the mid-twentieth century. New Kind of Evangelical Henry and Ockenga wanted to propagate a new brand of evangelicalism that avoided the social pull to both left and right extremes. The proponents of this new strand — often called neo-evangelicals — wanted to be more socially conscious than the fundamentalism of the previous decades, even as they stood for the same basic doctrines. They also were willing to work across denominational lines, hoping for a broader coalition of Christian leaders. Henry and Ockenga believed that Christianity had faltered culturally due to a lack of intellectual rigor among Christian leaders. The neo-evangelicals were convinced that if they were going to influence society, they needed to regain respect in academia. Evangelicalism would need to produce world-class scholars who could engage the elite intellectual centers, and thus “meet theological liberals on their own ground and beat them at their own game,” as Albert Mohler puts it. With these goals in mind, Henry helped pioneer several key evangelical initiatives, including the National Association of Evangelicals (1942) and the Evangelical Theological Society (1949). In 1947, Ockenga and radio evangelist Charles Fuller launched Fuller Theological Seminary to be the flagship neo-evangelical institution, and they immediately recruited Henry to be the school’s founding dean. Henry remained on the faculty of Fuller until he became the first editor-in-chief of Christianity Today magazine in 1956. The magazine quickly became tremendously influential, largely due to Henry’s leadership. These initiatives led to an explosion in evangelical scholarship. Before the neo-evangelical movement, evangelicals heavily relied on nineteenth-century conservative scholarship. Evangelicals were mocked for “relying on book reprints,” as Roger Nicole says (quoted in Awakening the Evangelical Mind, 168). However, in the second half of the twentieth century, evangelical scholars “produced works on history, psychology, pastoral theology, homiletics, family relations, the devotional life, denominational distinctive, and scores of other subjects,” Nicole says. “The problem in 1945 was that we had relatively few new conservative books; the problem now is that there are so many that few people can afford to purchase all those they would like to own.” As evangelical scholarship exploded, Henry led the way, earning his nickname “the dean of the evangelicals.” Henry wrote more than forty books and countless articles, essays, and reviews throughout his career. His magnum opus was the three-thousand page, six-volume work God, Revelation, and Authority. This remarkable work thoroughly explores epistemology, divine self-revelation, hermeneutics, authority, and the nature of truth. Gregory Alan Thornbury sums up the project by saying that Henry wanted to present a theology that was “epistemologically viable, methodologically coherent, biblically accurate, socially responsible, evangelistically oriented, and universally applied.” What Can We Learn from Henry? If Henry were alive today, what might he say to modern evangelicals? An examination of Henry’s life and writings gives us insight into how he might address us. EVANGELISM Henry’s first exhortation might be toward evangelism. He writes, It would be a supreme act of lovelessness on the part of the Christian community to withhold from the body of humanity, lost in sin, the evangel that Christ died for sinners and that the new birth is available on the condition of personal repentance and faith. (Evangelicals at the Brink of Crisis, 36) Henry observed that far too many Christians had relegated evangelism to the professional evangelists — absolving themselves from any responsibility in the Great Commission by claiming that they weren’t gifted for the task. During the early years of Fuller Seminary, Henry’s fervor for evangelism permeated the school’s culture. He fostered an “evangelistically alive missionary minded and warm collegial side of early Fuller community life,” as John Woodbridge puts it. Historian George Marsden has shared one student’s memory of Dr. Henry often arriving to lecture at early Saturday morning seminars looking “bedraggled in an old baggy overcoat [because] he would periodically spend half the night out in Los Angeles witnessing to derelicts and helping them find shelter” (Reforming Fundamentalism, 91). Henry was just as much an evangelist as he was a theologian or journalist. “Henry was just as much an evangelist as he was a theologian or journalist.” Henry balked at the idea that evangelism and theological studies were at odds. In his 1966 opening address to the World Congress on Evangelism in Berlin, he proclaimed the urgent need for biblically faithful theologian-evangelists. He knew that evangelistic efforts uninformed by good theology would lead to doctrinal confusion and weak discipleship. But he also knew that when theologians lack evangelistic fervor, they become too insular and persnickety. Henry challenged the delegates to “become theologian evangelists, rather than to remain content as just theologians or just evangelists,” John Woodbridge writes (Essential Evangelicalism, 82). JUSTICE In 1947, Henry published his most famous book, The Uneasy Conscience of Modern Fundamentalism, in response to the idea that there were only two options for Protestants: theological liberalism or a culturally detached fundamentalism. This book was a clarion call for evangelicals to reject this false dichotomy. Henry wanted evangelicals to lead the way in both theological integrity and social activism. He often said, “God is both the God of justice and justification.” Henry believed that the most important task was “the preaching of the gospel, in the interest of individual regeneration,” but he also believed that Christians ought to present the gospel “as the best solution of our problems, individual and social” (The Uneasy Conscience of Modern Fundamentalism, 89). God, in his self-revelation, gives us the best definition of justice. Therefore, Christians should be the greatest advocates for justice, on God’s terms, in any society — presenting God’s ways as the perfect picture of justice and righteousness. Henry writes, “Evangelicals know that injustice is reprehensible not simply because it is anti-human but because it is anti-God” (A Plea for Evangelical Demonstration, 14). Uneasy Conscience challenged evangelical leaders to address justice-related issues and to condemn social evils such as racism, exploitation of labor, and aggressive warfare. According to Henry, we should not be able to “look with indifference upon miscarriages of justice in the law courts, usury, plundering the needy, failure to feed and clothe the poor, and over-charging for merchandise” (33). In true Kuyperian-fashion, he writes, “The evangelical missionary message cannot be measured for success by the number of converts only. The Christian message has a salting effect upon the earth. It aims at a re-created society” (84). POLITICS Henry called upon more evangelicals to call out injustice in their writings, believing this would change hearts and minds. He also knew, however, that merely changing minds was not enough. To inspire societal change, he knew Christians needed to help change policies too. In his editorials, he often made arguments for specific pieces of legislation and policy changes. In Henry’s mind, it was not enough to simply get people to agree if such agreement did not lead to any practical effect. So, he was willing, as an editor, to publicly endorse specific ideas and frameworks in which the proper solutions to social ills could be found. “Henry would challenge us to cut against the harmful ideologies of both the left and the right.” The key for Henry, however, was to focus on ideas and frameworks rather than political parties. Henry would challenge us to cut against the harmful ideologies of both the left and the right. He would tell us to endorse good policies, regardless of which side of the aisle they come from, and he would warn evangelicals against becoming too loyal to one political party. Henry mostly agreed with conservative politics, but he insisted that evangelical leaders ought to avoid becoming mouthpieces for the conservative political movement in America. This put him at odds with the more conservative board members and financiers of Christianity Today, who wanted an outspoken politically conservative voice for the magazine’s editorials. This eventually cost Henry his job as editor-in-chief. Henry understood the power of politics, but he also understood the limitations too. He knew that policy changes could go only so far in the effort to reshape society. If Henry were alive today, he would exhort us to be careful to not put too much stock in political efforts. He knew that evangelicals needed to pour their greatest energies into gospel preaching and evangelism. RHETORIC Along with greater social engagement, the neo-evangelicals wanted to strike a more positive tone than the fundamentalists of the previous generation. Henry did not shy away from giving scathing warnings whenever necessary, but he often voiced striking notes of optimism and hope. In Uneasy Conscience, Henry asserts that evangelicals need to present their doctrine and ideas with a “dynamic to give it hope” (55). He wanted to engage with society, not just win an argument. After hearing the evangelical message, Henry wanted people to feel a sense of hope that there is indeed a better way. He also understood that our rhetoric matters. He knew that irenic and hopeful rhetoric would allow him to build rapport with people who otherwise might discredit or ignore him. For Henry, however, being irenic and hopeful was not merely a tactic in some quest to win more people to his side. Rather, such rhetoric was theologically informed. The ministry of Christ was personal and incarnational; therefore, Henry believed that the theologian must also be personal and incarnational. He wanted people to see the Savior through his life, so he sought to interact with others in the same manner as Christ. Timothy George, who spent significant time with Carl Henry, says, “The thing that stands out was his extraordinary humility and kindness toward others. . . . I never heard him speak in a bitter or disparaging way about anybody, not even those with whom he disagreed” (Essential Evangelicalism, 14). Modern evangelicals would be wise to follow Henry’s model. Humble Giant Marvin Olasky, former editor-in-chief of World magazine, shares an anecdote (recounted by Thornbury) from the life of Henry that gives us great insight into his humility. For several years toward the end of his life, Henry wrote op-ed columns for World. Olasky said that every few weeks he would get a letter in the mail from Henry — typically a three-page article. And in each letter, Henry always included a self-addressed stamped postcard with the handwritten words: Accept or Reject. He never presumed that what he had to say was worthy of being published. Henry was a remarkable leader and scholar. He was an impressive theologian. His evangelistic fervor was contagious. His kindness was sincere. His body of work is second to none in his generation. And his humility ran deep. Soon after Henry’s death on December 7, 2003, David S. Dockery wrote this tribute: “Those who met him for the first time often stood in awe of his giant intellect. But soon, almost without exception, they became more impressed with his humility and gracious spirit.” Article by Kenneth E. Ortiz

Feedback
Suggestionsuggestion box
x