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- Author: Bill Johnson & Beni Johnson
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About the Book
"Raising Giant-Killers" by Bill Johnson and Beni Johnson explores the principles and practices for raising children who know their identity as sons and daughters of God and walk in their full potential as spiritual warriors. The book offers practical insights and guidance for parents on how to cultivate a Kingdom mindset in their children and equip them to live out their faith boldly in the world.
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.
The Dying World Outside My Window
“What a mystery,” wrote Horatius Bonar, “the soul and eternity of one man depends upon the voice of another.” What a mystery, I then thought, that I do not speak more. I gazed out of my window. Three houses stood across the street. Of two, I had to ask myself, Who lives there? What were they doing as I read and prayed? Although I had not yet met them, I knew much about them. They — whoever they were — like me, had been born in sin. They, like me, had souls. They, like me, careened irreversibly towards eternity. They, like me, were tempted to ruin their souls, blinded and energized to do so by unseen spiritual forces. And they, like me, lived deceitfully mundane lives upon a thread floating between heaven and hell, now and forever. As I looked at the homes which sheltered eternal beings, I realized that my voice had not yet traveled across the street. Even though I knew news that they desperately need to hear and a “him” that they were made for (Colossians 1:16), my voice had not bothered to make its way to speak to them, befriend them, and share with them the most necessary message to ever grace human ears: the gospel of Jesus Christ. What a mystery, that the soul and eternity of one man depends on the voice of another — and that the voice upon which souls depend would be so terribly silent and unconcerned. To the Highways and Hedges It is not an overstatement that souls depend upon us to speak. How will they believe if they never hear (Romans 10:14)? “It is not an overstatement that the world depends upon the church to speak.” Each one of us has a part to play; each has work of the ministry to accomplish (Ephesians 4:11–12). Standing far below the electing love of God, you and I muster our courage to knock on doors, to invite neighbors for dinner, to reason with them about God, sin, and Jesus Christ — his cross and resurrection. We all have people to tell the bad news of their condemned standing before a holy God, and the good news of amazing grace that God, in the gospel of his Son, is reconciling sinners to himself. What kind of man — and I stare at him in the mirror more often than I like — could so calmly smile and wave, laugh and chitchat with his dying neighbor, and yet rarely get around to opening my mouth to witness to the authority, love, and mercy of Jesus Christ? Devils wink as sinners perish. Demons dance as the lost submerge undisturbed. Saints, as we see them in Scripture and church history, do not join them, masking their indifference with tutored speech about God’s sovereignty to excuse inactivity. They weep, they fast, they pray. They walk across the street, they share their very lives and this great news, this only news of reconciliation with God. They speak the name — the only name given under heaven — by which we must be saved. As ambassadors of Christ, they implore the lost, “Be reconciled to God!” (2 Corinthians 5:20). They happily go to the highways and hedges of this fallen world, and compel them to come into the Master’s great banquet (Luke 14:23). When you look out your window, when you scroll through your text conversations, when you sit down at the dinner table, or enjoy laughter with friends, do they know? Have they heard? What else should we discuss if not this? But oh, how much do we discuss instead of this. Beyond Personality Types Some do not speak because you are not as profitably given to the verbal exercise as your extroverted brothers and sisters. What comes fluently, naturally, effortlessly for others requires great toil and courage for you. For whatever reason, speaking to strangers is very uncomfortable — your throat clenches in protest, you become short of breath, you grow very self-conscious. Perhaps you replay embarrassing moments early in life, when you seemed to speak English as a second language. Thus, this part of our Christian calling, speaking the good news to others, comes to you with dense clouds and a darkness to be felt. Though you are not the mouth of the Body, your voice — and perhaps especially your voice — is needed, my brother or sister. Your words, rarer and thus less inflated, can do what those whose words are voluminous cannot do as easily: come with weight. We need your testimony to the steadfast love of God. Consider less what your sweaty hands and rapid pulse has to say about you, or how Myers-Briggs describes you. Let God dictate who you are and how you see yourself. Who You Are Who are you? You are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people for his own possession, that you may proclaim the excellencies of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light. Once you were not a people, but now you are God’s people; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy. (1 Peter 2:9–10) Once you were less than nothing. A child of Satan, a spiritual harlot, a rebel defying the living God. You wallowed in the blood of your fallen father, Adam, without hope and without God in the world. But he, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved you — a love unsought, unreturned, undeserved — made you alive together with Christ. And this excellent Christ, not considering his equality with God something to be grasped, became poor so that you might be rich — died so that you might live (2 Corinthians 8:9). “Have we forgotten the wonder and privilege of bringing the power of God for salvation to lost souls?” And he made us a people — his people. And he gives us a voice, a purpose: to proclaim his excellencies. We, so seemingly unimpressive and nonthreateningly normal — saints with normal jobs in normal neighborhoods — carry the spectacular message next door and across the street: Christ has died for the forgiveness of sins for all who repent and believe the gospel. This gold lies in jars of clay. We must let it out. We must speak, and go on speaking. It depends not on what our strengths are nor on what personalities we possess — it matters who Christ has made us to be. And he has made us his chosen race, his royal priesthood, his holy nation of people who are satisfied in his excellencies — and can’t stop talking about them. Any Sweeter Work? Have I, have you, have we, forgotten the wonder and privilege of bringing the power of God for salvation to lost souls? Do we now count it a burden? Spurgeon asks each one of us, [We who are] sent on so sweet a service as the proclaiming of the gospel, how can we tarry? What, to tell the poor criminal shut up in the dungeon of despair that there is liberty, to tell the condemned that there is pardon, to tell the dying that there is life in a look at the crucified One — do you find this hard? Do you call this toil? Should it not be the sweetest feature of your life that you have such blessed work as this to do? To speak of him and live lives of love that do not blaspheme his holy name — do we not feel that this is a very small response to such a great salvation? Jesus was slaughtered in the garbage heap outside the camp so that we might go out to him and “continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name” (Hebrews 13:15). “What a mystery,” wrote Horatius Bonar, “the soul and eternity of one man depends upon the voice of another.” What a mystery indeed. Let’s not deprive our neighbors of ours this year, but resolve to send out our voices as light into the darkness, proclaiming the excellencies of Jesus Christ. Article by Greg Morse Staff writer, desiringGod.org