How You Can Know The Will Of God Order Printed Copy
- Author: Kenneth E. Hagin
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About the Book
"How You Can Know the Will of God" by Kenneth E. Hagin is a practical guide that teaches readers how to discern and follow God's will for their lives. The book covers topics such as prayer, listening to the Holy Spirit, and studying God's Word to gain a fuller understanding of His plans for them. Hagin emphasizes the importance of obedience and faith in aligning oneself with God's will. Overall, the book offers clear and actionable advice for those seeking to live according to God's purpose.
Jonathan Edwards
Jonathan Edwards (1703-1758), colonial New England minister and missionary, was one of the greatest preachers and theologians in American history.
At the close of the 17th century, the science of Isaac Newton and the philosophy of John Locke had significantly changed man's view of his relationship to God. Man's natural ability to discover the laws of creation seemed to demonstrate that supernatural revelation was not a necessary prelude to understanding creation and the creator. God was no longer mysterious; He had endowed men with the power to comprehend His nature and with a will free to choose between good and evil.
It was Jonathan Edwards's genius that he could make full use of Locke's philosophy and Newton's discoveries to reinterpret man's relationship to God in such a way that the experience of supernatural grace became available to people living in an intellectual and cultural climate very different from that of 17th-century England. In so doing, Edwards helped transmit to later generations the richest aspect of American Puritanism: the individual heart's experience of spiritual and emotional rebirth. Further, by his leadership in the religious revivals of the early 18th century, Edwards helped make the experience an integral part of American life for his own time and for the following century.
Jonathan Edwards was born on Oct. 5, 1703, in East Windsor, Conn., where his father was a minister. Jonathan's grandfather was pastor to the church in Northampton, Mass. Jonathan was the only boy in the family; he had 10 sisters. He graduated from Yale College in 1720, staying on there as a theology student until 1722, when, though not yet 19 years old, he was called as minister to a church in New York. Edwards served there for 8 months. In 1723, though called to a church in Connecticut, he decided to try teaching. He taught at Yale from 1724 to 1726.
Early Writings
At an early age Edwards showed a talent for science. At Yale he studied Newton's new science and read Locke with more interest "than the most greedy miser" gathering up "handfuls of silver and gold, from some newly discovered treasure." During these years he also began recording his meditations on the Bible and his observations of the natural world. Edward's central purpose was not to become a scientist but to lead a life of intense holiness.
Edwards's "Personal Narrative" (written ca. 1740) and his letters and diaries show a young man whose religious experience was of great power and beauty. As Edwards tells it, after several "seasons of awakenings," at the age of 17 he had a profound religious experience in which "there came into my mind so sweet a sense of the glorious majesty and grace of God, that I know not how to express. I seemed to see them both in a sweet conjunction; majesty and meekness joined together; it was a sweet, and gentle, and holy majesty; and also a majestic meekness; an awful sweetness; a high, and great, and holy gentleness." Adapting Locke's philosophy to his own purposes, Edwards interpreted the "sweet" sense of God's majesty and grace as a sixth and new sense, created supernaturally by the Holy Spirit. As he wrote later in A Treatise of Religious Affections (1746), the new sense is not "a new faculty of understanding, but it is a new foundation laid in the nature of the soul, for a new kind of exercises of the same faculty of understanding."
Edwards's perception of ultimate reality as supernatural is further evidenced in his statement that "the world is … an ideal one." He wrote in his youthful "Notes on the Mind": "The secret lies here: That, which truly is the Substance of all Bodies, is the infinitely exact, and precise, and perfectly stable Idea, in God's mind, together with his stable Will, that the same shall gradually be communicated to us, and to other minds, according to certain fixed and exact Methods and Laws."
In 1726 Edwards was called from Yale to the Northampton church to assist his grandfather; when his grandfather died in 1729, Edwards became pastor of the church. In 1727 he married the beautiful and remarkable Sarah Pier-repont of New Haven.
Early Revivals
Religious revivals had been spreading through New England for 100 years. In his youth Edwards had seen "awakenings" of his father's congregation, and his grandfather's revivals had made his Northampton church second only to Boston. In early New England Congregationalism, church membership had been open only to those who could give public profession of their experience of grace. The Halfway Covenant of 1662 modified this policy, but when Edwards's grandfather allowed all to partake of the Sacraments (including those who could not give profession of conversion), he greatly increased the number of communicants at the Lord's Supper.
Edwards's first revival took place in 1734-1735. Beginning as prayer meetings among the young in Northampton, the revivals soon spread to other towns, and Edwards's reputation as a preacher of extraordinary power grew. Standing before his congregation in his ministerial robe, he was an imposing figure, 6 feet tall, with a high forehead and intense eyes. A contemporary wrote that Edwards had "the power of presenting an important Truth before an audience, with overwhelming weight of argument, and with such intenseness of feeling, that the whole soul of the speaker is thrown into every part of the conception and delivery… Mr. Edwards was the most eloquent man I ever heard speak."
Edwards endeavored to convey as directly as possible the meaning of Christ's Crucifixion and Resurrection. His words, he hoped, would lead his listeners to a conviction of their sinful state and then through the infusion of divine grace to a profound experience of joy, freedom, and beauty. Edwards's A Faithful Narrative of the Surprising Work of God in the Conversion of Many Hundred Souls in Northampton, and the Neighboring Towns and Villages (1737) relates the history of the 1734-1735 revival and includes careful analyses of the conversions of a 4-year old child and an adolescent girl.
Edwards's preaching and writings about the nature and process of the religious experience created powerful enemies. In western Massachusetts the opposition to Edwards was led by his relatives Israel and Solomon Williams, who maintained that a man's assurance of salvation does not lie in a direct and overpowering experience of the infusion of grace and that he may judge himself saved when he obeys the biblical injunctions to lead a virtuous life. Edwards too believed that a Christian expresses the new life within him in virtuous behavior, but he denied that a man is in a state of salvation simply because he behaves virtuously. For him, good works without the experience of grace brought neither freedom nor joy.
In 1739 Edwards preached sermons on the history of redemption. He clearly thought the biblical promises of Christ's kingdom on earth would be fulfilled soon. His interest in the history of redemption is further evidenced in the many notes he made on the prophecies he found in the Bible and in natural events.
Great Awakening
In 1740 the arrival in America of George Whitefield, the famous English revivalist, touched off the Great Awakening. Revivals now swept through the Colonies, and thousands of people experienced the infusion of grace. The emotional intensity of the revivals soon brought attacks from ministers who believed that Whitefield, Edwards, and other "evangelical" preachers were stirring up religious fanaticism. The most famous attack was made by Charles Chauncy in Seasonable Thoughts on the State of Religion in New England (1743).
Edwards defended the Great Awakening in several books. He acknowledged that there had been emotional excesses, but on the whole he believed the revivals were remarkable outpourings of the Holy Spirit. His works of defense include The Distinguishing Marks of a Work of the Spirit of God (1741), Some Thoughts Concerning the Present Revival of Religion in New England (1742), and A Treatise Concerning Religious Affections (1746), the last a classic in religious psychology. He also wrote a biography of his daughter's fiancé the Native American missionary David Brainer.
The Great Awakening intensified Edward's expectations of Christ's kingdom. With English and Scottish ministers, he began a Concert of United Prayer for the Coming of Christ's Kingdom. To engage people in the concert, he wrote An Humble Attempt to Promote Visible Union of God's People in Extraordinary Prayer for the Revival of Religion (1747).
Edward's Dismissal
The troubles that culminated in Edwards's dismissal from Northampton began in the 1740s. Considerable opposition to Edwards had remained from his revivals. Animosity between him and members of his congregation was increased by an embarrassing salary dispute and an incident in 1744 when Edwards discovered that some children had been secretly reading a book on midwifery. Many children of influential families were implicated; Edwards's reading of their names publicly from the pulpit was resented. But the most important factor in Edwards's dismissal was his decision, announced in 1748, that henceforth only those who publicly professed their conversion experience would be admitted to the Lord's Supper. His decision reversed his grandfather's policy, which Edwards himself had been following for 20 years.
Edwards was denied the privilege of explaining his views from the pulpit, and his written defense, An Humble Inquiry into the Rules of the Word of God, Concerning the Qualifications Requisite to a Complete Standing and Full Communion with the Visible Christian Church (1749), went largely unread. After a bitter struggle, the church voted 200 to 23 against Edwards, and on July 1, 1750, he preached his farewell sermon.
Late Works
In August 1751 Edwards and his large family went to Stockbridge, Mass., where he had been called as pastor to the church and missionary to the Native Americans. As a missionary, he defended the Native Americans against the greed and mismanagement of a local merchant. These struggles consumed much of his time, but he still managed to write extensively. Among the most important works are A Careful and Strict Enquiry into the Modern Prevailing Notions of That Freedom of Will … (1754) and The Great Christian Doctrine of Original Sin Defended (1758). In the first, he asserted that a man has freedom to choose but freedom of choice is not the same as freedom of will. The power which decides what a man will choose—his willing—is in the hands of God and beyond his personal control. In Original Sin Edwards maintained that all men live in the same unregenerate state as Adam after the fall.
Two other works show that Edwards had not become embittered by his dismissal. In The Nature of True Virtue (1756) he defines virtue as benevolence to "being" in general. Concerning the End for Which God Created the World (1756) is a prose poem, a praise to God Who is love, and Whose universe is the expression of God's desire to glorify Himself.
In January 1758 Edwards became president of the College of New Jersey (now Princeton). Two months later he died of fever resulting from a smallpox inoculation. He was buried in Princeton.
Lord, Make Us Diligent and Desperate
“Lord, make me as holy as a pardoned sinner can be made.” This prayer, often found on the lips of Robert Murray McCheyne, strikes a chord in every Christian soul. When the Holy Spirit makes his home in us, holiness ceases to be the stuffy obligation we thought it was. All of a sudden, holiness feels like heaven in our hearts, and every earthly longing bows the knee to this burning, bright desire: “Lord, make me holy.” As we look ahead to a new year, how might we expect the Holy Spirit to fulfill that longing? One answer may not be surprising, but it is easily forgotten and neglected. To make us holy, the Spirit leads us on the pathways of Scripture, prayer, and the other means of grace. And along the way, he shapes our posture to align with two fundamental truths: Holiness cannot be found apart from the Spirit’s means of grace; therefore, we must be diligent in the use of them. Holiness cannot be found in the means of grace themselves; therefore, we must be desperate for the Spirit to work through them. Diligence and desperation: these are the postures that honor the Spirit’s means of grace. And by his design, they are our only hope for true holiness. Lord, Make Us Diligent Some of us hesitate to associate the sanctifying work of the Spirit with a word like diligence. We can be prone to think of the Spirit’s ministry in terms of spontaneity and flexibility, not discipline and diligence. But unless we read the Bible attentively, pray devotedly, and gather for worship regularly, the holiness that comes from the Spirit will not be ours. In other words: no diligence, no holiness. “No Christian drifts into holiness. The flesh is too weak, the devil too deceitful, and the world too alluring.” The Bible’s description of the growing Christian hums with activity and effort. Such a Christian does not read the Bible merely when he gets around to it; instead, he aims to meditate “day and night” (Psalm 1:2) — thinking over the word (2 Timothy 2:7), attending to the word (Proverbs 2:2), storing up the word (Psalm 119:11). He does not pray a few vague petitions on his way to work; rather, he endeavors to “continue steadfastly in prayer” (Colossians 4:2), devoting his whole mind to the task (1 Peter 4:7) as he struggles on behalf of himself and others (Colossians 4:12). And he does not simply gather with the church when his schedule allows; he exhorts (and is exhorted) “every day” (Hebrews 3:13), “not neglecting to meet” with his brothers and sisters (Hebrews 10:25). Just as no twig drifts upstream, so no Christian drifts into holiness. The flesh is too weak, the devil too deceitful, and the world too alluring. When it comes to holiness, the Spirit speaks the same command to us as the one he spoke two thousand years ago: strive (Hebrews 12:14). Holy Habits Sometimes, of course, our striving toward holiness does not seem like striving at all. We feel carried along by the Spirit, filled with a power that scorns sin and sends us with joy to the means of grace. These are precious experiences. But they can lead us astray if we begin to expect that the path to holiness will always feel like flying on eagles’ wings. The reality is that much of our progress toward holiness requires painful, painstaking effort — though not joyless — carried along by a stubborn faith that clings to God’s promise. J.I. Packer offers the realism many of us need to hear: “Holiness teaching that skips over disciplined persistence in the well-doing that forms holy habits is . . . weak; habit-forming is the Spirit’s ordinary way of leading us on in holiness” (Keep in Step with the Spirit, 90). In the moment, of course, “habit-forming” may not feel very spiritual — at least if by spiritual we mean an uplifted or ecstatic emotional state. It will probably feel like ordinary hard work. But keeping in step with the Spirit is sometimes as simple as, well, taking the next difficult step in faith: Throw the covers off and get up. Resist the urge to get lost in your phone or email. Push through distractions in your prayers. Whatever it takes, keep the reward in view, and form the habits that put you in the places where the wind of the Spirit blows. So, as we pray for more holiness in the year ahead, we might also ask, “Lord, make us diligent.” Lord, Make Us Desperate And yet, woe to us if diligence is our only watchword in the pursuit of holiness. The Pharisee in Jesus’s parable could claim diligence — far more than many of us can claim. “I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week; I give tithes of all that I get” (Luke 18:11–12). All the means of grace are on display in this man. He knows the Scriptures. He prays. He gathers in the temple. And he is lost. “Whatever it takes, form the habits that put you in the places where the wind of the Spirit blows.” Diligence, if left without the seasoning of humble desperation, becomes the bitterest of all roots. As John Murray writes, “If we are not keenly sensitive to our own helplessness, then we can make the use of means of sanctification the minister of self-righteousness and pride” (Redemption Accomplished and Applied, 156). If we devote ourselves to the means of grace without depending on the God of grace, then the means may only serve our self-righteousness. In the pursuit of holiness, as in every other area of life, the first of Jesus’s Beatitudes abides: “Blessed are the poor in spirit” (Matthew 5:3). Blessed are those who know they can see nothing on their own (1 Corinthians 2:14). Blessed are those who can say with the apostle, “We do not know what to pray for as we ought” (Romans 8:26). Blessed are those who, like the tax collector in the parable, know that mercy is their only hope (Luke 18:13). Diligence can put our face in front of the Bible, but it cannot show us wonders there (Psalm 119:18). Only the Spirit can do that — and he loves to do so for the desperate. ‘Give Me Life!’ The author of Psalm 119 models what desperate diligence might sound like in practice. All throughout the psalm, notes of diligence and notes of desperation meld into a harmony that can come only from the Holy Spirit. To call the psalmist diligent puts it mildly: “With my whole heart I seek you” (Psalm 119:10). “I will keep your law continually, forever and ever” (Psalm 119:44). “I hasten and do not delay to keep your commandments” (Psalm 119:60). “Your testimonies are my meditation” (Psalm 119:99). “Seven times a day I praise you for your righteous rules” (Psalm 119:164). Here is diligence indeed. Yet it is the diligence of a man who knows, deep down, that he is hopeless apart from his God. Hear his desperation: “My soul clings to the dust; give me life according to your word!” (Psalm 119:25). “Put false ways far from me and graciously teach me your law!” (Psalm 119:29). “Incline my heart to your testimonies, and not to selfish gain!” (Psalm 119:36). “May my heart be blameless in your statutes, that I may not be put to shame!” (Psalm 119:80). “I am your servant; give me understanding, that I may know your testimonies!” (Psalm 119:125). The psalmist knew what we often forget: holiness requires hard work, but it is never the product of mere hard work. From first to last, holiness is a gift of grace. And so, we pray not only, “Lord, make us diligent,” but, “Lord, make us desperate.” Lord, Show Us Christ By diligence and desperation, the Spirit leads us onward to holiness. But if we are going to embody these two postures in the upcoming year, then we need to remember what we really mean by holiness. Too easily, we talk about holiness merely as a set of abstract moral virtues — patience, love, peace, generosity, boldness — and not as what it really is: Christlikeness. To be holy is to be near Christ and like Christ; the pursuit of holiness, therefore, is the pursuit of him. If we conceive of holiness merely as moral virtue, then our diligence and desperation will likely dry up after a time. But if Christ is at the center of our pursuit, then we have a goal glorious enough to summon all of our energy, all of our longings, all of our attention, all through the year. “Diligence can put our face in front of the Bible, but it cannot show us wonders there.” Rise up early for Christ, read and meditate and memorize for Christ, pray and fast for Christ, gather and worship for Christ — not to be more accepted by him than you already are, but to enjoy him more than you already do. Whatever else we gain this year cannot compare with knowing him, loving him, trusting him more dearly than we do now. “Oh, if ye saw the beauty of Jesus, and smelled the fragrance of his love,” Samuel Rutherford once wrote, “you would run through fire and water to be at him” (The Letters of Samuel Rutherford, 111). This, ultimately, is the Holy Spirit’s passion and purpose in all the means of grace: to glorify Christ in our eyes so that we become like him (John 16:14; 2 Corinthians 3:18). So, if we want God to make us as holy as pardoned sinners can be made, we will ask for more diligence and desperation. And underneath both of these, we will say, “God, show us Christ.” Article by Scott Hubbard