GIP Library icon

LOG IN TO REVIEW
About the Book


"Strangers to Failure" by Benson Idahosa is a motivational book that encourages readers to overcome obstacles, embrace challenges, and see failure as a stepping stone to success. Through personal anecdotes and practical advice, Idahosa inspires readers to cultivate a positive mindset, persevere in the face of adversity, and achieve their goals. This book empowers individuals to see themselves as capable of great things and to view failure as a temporary setback rather than a permanent defeat.

John Wesley

John Wesley John Wesley, (born June 17, 1703, Epworth, Lincolnshire, England—died March 2, 1791, London), Anglican clergyman, evangelist, and founder, with his brother Charles, of the Methodist movement in the Church of England. John Wesley was the second son of Samuel, a former Nonconformist (dissenter from the Church of England) and rector at Epworth, and Susanna Wesley. After six years of education at the Charterhouse, London, he entered Christ Church, Oxford University, in 1720. Graduating in 1724, he resolved to become ordained a priest; in 1725 he was made a deacon by the bishop of Oxford and the following year was elected a fellow of Lincoln College. After assisting his father at Epworth and Wroot, he was ordained a priest on September 22, 1728. Recalled to Oxford in October 1729 to fulfill the residential requirements of his fellowship, John joined his brother Charles, Robert Kirkham, and William Morgan in a religious study group that was derisively called the “Methodists” because of their emphasis on methodical study and devotion. Taking over the leadership of the group from Charles, John helped the group to grow in numbers. The “Methodists,” also called the Holy Club, were known for their frequent communion services and for fasting two days a week. From 1730 on, the group added social services to their activities, visiting Oxford prisoners, teaching them to read, paying their debts, and attempting to find employment for them. The Methodists also extended their activities to workhouses and poor people, distributing food, clothes, medicine, and books and also running a school. When the Wesleys left the Holy Club in 1735, the group disintegrated. Following his father’s death in April 1735, John was persuaded by an Oxford friend, John Burton, and Col. James Oglethorpe, governor of the colony of Georgia in North America, to oversee the spiritual lives of the colonists and to missionize the Native Americans as an agent for the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel. Accompanied by Charles, who was ordained for this mission, John was introduced to some Moravian emigrants who appeared to him to possess the spiritual peace for which he had been searching. The mission to the indigenous peoples proved abortive, nor did Wesley succeed with most of his flock. He served them faithfully, but his stiff high churchmanship antagonized them. He had a naive attachment to Sophia Hopkey, niece of the chief magistrate of Savannah, who married another man, and Wesley unwisely courted criticism by repelling her from Holy Communion. In December 1737 he fled from Georgia; misunderstandings and persecution stemming from the Sophia Hopkey episode forced him to go back to England. In London John met a Moravian, Peter Böhler, who convinced him that what he needed was simply faith, and he also discovered Martin Luther’s commentary on the Letter of Paul to the Galatians, which emphasized the scriptural doctrine of justification by grace through faith alone. On May 24, 1738, in Aldersgate Street, London, during a meeting composed largely of Moravians under the auspices of the Church of England, Wesley’s intellectual conviction was transformed into a personal experience while Luther’s preface to the commentary to the Letter of Paul to the Romans was being read. From this point onward, at the age of 35, Wesley viewed his mission in life as one of proclaiming the good news of salvation by faith, which he did whenever a pulpit was offered him. The congregations of the Church of England, however, soon closed their doors to him because of his enthusiasm. He then went to religious societies, trying to inject new spiritual vigour into them, particularly by introducing “bands” similar to those of the Moravians—i.e., small groups within each society that were confined to members of the same sex and marital status who were prepared to share intimate details of their lives with each other and to receive mutual rebukes. For such groups Wesley drew up Rules of the Band Societies in December 1738. For a year he worked through existing church societies, but resistance to his methods increased. In 1739 George Whitefield, who later became an important preacher of the Great Awakening in Great Britain and North America, persuaded Wesley to go to the unchurched masses. Wesley gathered converts into societies for continuing fellowship and spiritual growth, and he was asked by a London group to become their leader. Soon other such groups were formed in London, Bristol, and elsewhere. To avoid the scandal of unworthy members, Wesley published, in 1743, Rules for the Methodist societies. To promote new societies he became a widely travelled itinerant preacher. Because most ordained clergymen did not favour his approach, Wesley was compelled to seek the services of dedicated laymen, who also became itinerant preachers and helped administer the Methodist societies. Many of Wesley’s preachers had gone to the American colonies, but after the American Revolution most returned to England. Because the bishop of London would not ordain some of his preachers to serve in the United States, Wesley controversially took it upon himself, in 1784, to do so. In the same year he pointed out that his societies operated independently of any control by the Church of England. Toward the end of his life, Wesley became an honoured figure in the British Isles.

What Dead Abel Speaks to Us

The story of Cain and Abel in Genesis 4 tells much more about Cain than Abel. In fact, not one word is recorded from living Abel. But the author of Hebrews says that, “through [Abel’s] faith, though he died, he still speaks” (Hebrews 11:4). So what is dead Abel speaking to us? It was dusk. Cain was working late. Not wanting to face his parents, he was trying to disguise his guilt-infused fear with a preoccupation with his crops. Then suddenly the unmistakable voice of the Lᴏʀᴅ sent a shock through his core: “Where is Abel, your brother?” Cain had grown to loathe Abel. It had been building for years. No matter what, Abel always seemed to turn a situation to his advantage. Was there a conflict? Abel the Humble loved to be the first to reconcile. Did anyone need help? Abel the Servant loved to be the first to offer it. Was there an injury? Abel the Compassionate loved to be the first to comfort. Even when Cain showed greater endurance and ingenuity in his work, Abel could rob him of any satisfaction with a virtuoso performance of self-effacing virtue. What Cain found most maddening was Abel the Pious, flaunting his tender conscience and precious devotion to God for the admiration of all. Cain could barely stomach how father and mother gushed over that. With every perceived humiliation, Cain caressed the secret suspicion that Abel only used goodness to show himself superior to Cain. But that morning Cain had suffered a crushing blow. The Lᴏʀᴅ had required each brother to present an offering, the first fruits of their labors. Cain saw in this an opportunity. This time Abel would not upstage him. Cain would prove that he too could excel in devotion. So he made sure that his offering lavishly exceeded the required amount of his best produce. But when the Lᴏʀᴅ reviewed Cain’s extravagant offering, he rejected it. Cain was stunned. Then, injury to insult, the Lᴏʀᴅ accepted Abel’s comparatively simple lamb offering. Humiliated by Abel again! But this time before God! Cain was beside himself. Hatred metastasized into horror. Abel had outshined him for the last time. By late afternoon Abel’s lifeless body lay in a remote field, abandoned in the hope that a beast’s hunger would conceal the fratricide. But the Lᴏʀᴅ’s question left Cain naked and exposed (Hebrews 4:13). He lied with the anger of cornered guilt: “I do not know; am I my brother’s keeper?” What it was, in fact, that he did not know was that his silenced brother had not been quiet. The Lᴏʀᴅ replied, “What have you done? The voice of your brother’s blood is crying to me from the ground” (Genesis 4:9–10). Yes, the blood of dead Abel cried out to God for justice (Genesis 4:10; Hebrews 12:24). But the faith of dead Abel “still speaks” (Hebrews 11:4). So what is he saying to us through his faith? “Without faith it is impossible to please God” One thing we hear is that God only accepts faith-fueled offerings. It’s significant that God doesn’t provide details about either Cain’s or Abel’s offerings, the first ever recorded in the Bible. In the story, I imagined Cain trying to win God’s approval with an impressive looking offering. But it could just have easily been a stingy offering or an exactingly precise offering. The point is that right from the beginning God draws our attention away from what fallen humans think is important, namely how our works can make us look impressive, to what God thinks is important, namely how our works reveal who we trust. All of Scripture teaches us that “the righteous shall live by his faith” (Habakkuk 2:4) because “without faith it is impossible to please” God (Hebrews 11:6). Abel was “commended as righteous” by God because he presented his offering in faith (Hebrews 11:4). Cain’s offering was “evil” (1 John 3:12) because without humble trust in God, even our offerings (hear: any work we do for God) are evil to God — no matter if they appear to everyone else as obedient or impressive. “You will be hated by all for my name’s sake” A second thing we hear from Abel is that the world will hate you if you live by faith in Jesus (who the New Testament reveals is YHWH, the Lᴏʀᴅ in Philippians 2:11). The Apostle John makes this clear: “We should not be like Cain, who was of the evil one and murdered his brother. And why did he murder him? Because his own deeds were evil and his brother’s righteous. Do not be surprised, brothers, that the world hates you” (1 John 3:12–13). Abel was the first to discover that “all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted” (2 Timothy 3:12). To “let [our] light shine before others, so that they may see [our] good works” (Matthew 5:16) will at times expose others’ wickedness and arouse their hatred (John 3:20). Jesus himself said, “you will be hated by all for my name's sake,” “some of you they will put to death” — some even at the hands of “parents and brothers and relatives and friends (Luke 21:16–17). Righteous faith arouses evil hatred. A better word than Abel’s blood In the story, though we’d rather see ourselves as Abel, we are all Cain. We were at one time cursed, “hostile to God” and alienated from him (Romans 8:7; Ephesians 4:18). Abel, the first martyr of faith, is a foreshadowing of our Lord Jesus, whose “blood… speaks a better word than the blood of Abel” (Hebrews 12:24). For though Abel’s innocent blood cried out for justice against sin, Jesus’s innocent blood cried out for mercy for sinners. Abel’s blood exposed Cain in his wretchedness. Jesus’s blood covers our wretchedness and cleanses us from all sin (Romans 7:24; 1 John 1:9). So now as we seek to present our bodies as living sacrifices to God, let us remember that the only thing that makes this acceptable to God, the only thing that makes it a spiritual service of worship, is our childlike faith in Jesus (Romans 12:1; 3:26). And let us soberly remember that the only reward this is likely to earn us from the world is its hatred. Article by Jon Bloom

Feedback
Suggestionsuggestion box
x