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About the Book


"The Bible And Reason" explores the intersection between faith and rationality, arguing that the Bible and reason are not mutually exclusive but can complement each other. The author, Gerard Eeedy, delves into theological and philosophical perspectives to demonstrate how reason can enhance one's understanding and interpretation of scripture. This book encourages readers to engage in critical thinking while maintaining their faith in the Bible.

Henry Martyn

Henry Martyn Martyn was born in Truro, England, where his father worked as head clerk of a merchant house. After attending Truro Grammar School, he proceeded to Cambridge to read mathematics. Influenced by his younger sister, and by Charles Simeon, he soon professed evangelical faith. He graduated (as Senior Wrangler) in 1801, also earning the Smith’s Prize. In 1802 he became a fellow of St. John’s. Admiration for David Brainerd persuaded him to abandon legal ambitions for missionary service. A curacy with Simeon at Holy Trinity Church, Cambridge, followed. Changed personal circumstances made missionary service impossible for him, so instead, he accepted a chaplain’s commission with the East India Company. During the 305-day voyage to Calcutta, he studied Urdu and Bengali. Until he was posted inland, he assisted the Serampore Baptists in Bible translation work. He was chaplain from 1806 to 1809 at Dinapore and from 1809 to 1810 at Cawnpore. In both places, his refusal to regard Indians as inferior and his respect for India culture annoyed and alienated many of his peers. Encouraged by fellow evangelicals, he took as his main task Bible translation. With the assistance of munshis (translators), he produced Urdu, Arabic, and Persian versions of Scripture, thus focusing on Muslim languages. Confessing that ignorance of Islam handicapped his ability to communicate the gospel, he also “read everything [he] could pick up about Mohammadans.” Late in 1810, suffering from consumption, Martyn took a leave of absence to travel through Iran, to test his Persian translation, and to benefit from a drier climate. He hoped eventually to return to England to persuade a childhood sweetheart, who had refused an earlier request, to marry him. In Iran, he thoroughly revised his Persian translation of the New Testament, which, with the help of Sir Gore Ouseley (1779-1844), was presented to the shah. Reluctantly, Martyn also agreed to exchange tracts with the Muslim ulema (religious scholars), later published as his Controversial Tracts on Christianity and Mohammedanism (1824). Martyn died at Tocat at age 31, cared for and buried by Armenians, whose ancient church he had long admired. Martyn’s ecumenical openness, his desire to implant the gospel in Indian culture, and his concern for spiritual exchange with Muslims have often been obscured by his reluctant use of polemic. Nevertheless, his legacy inspired later missionaries, such as Thomas Valpy French and Temple Gairdner toward a more irenic approach to Muslims and to Islam. Clinton Bennett, “Martyn, Henry,” in Biographical Dictionary of Christian Missions, ed. Gerald H. Anderson (New York: Macmillan Reference USA, 1998), 438-39. This article is reprinted from Biographical Dictionary of Christian Missions, Macmillan Reference USA, copyright © 1998 Gerald H. Anderson, by permission of Macmillan Reference USA, New York, NY. All rights reserved.

When I (Still) Don’t Desire God

It’s been fifteen years since I wrote  When I Don’t Desire God: How to Fight for Joy . I wrote it because hundreds of people who hear the message of Christian Hedonism with hope drift into discouragement because they don’t have the joy in God that they know they should. Christian Hedonism says that  God is most glorified in us when we are most satisfied in him . Which makes matters worse if that satisfaction is missing. That’s why I wrote the book. I have been asked, What would I say now, with the accumulated wisdom of 72 years, to those  still  struggling to “delight yourself in the Lord” (Psalm 37:4)? This is not theoretical for me. Not only do I share the struggle, but I have conversations with real people struggling like this. I followed up one such conversation recently with an email. I’m going to share that with you below. But first a caution. Wisdom for the Darkness Whether we can help someone struggling with joylessness in the Christian life depends not primarily on the quantity of wisdom we have accumulated over the years, but on how we apply the truth we have, and whether the Spirit of God turns that truth into life and freedom and joy. “When the darkness of uncertainty and fear hangs over you, don’t let go of the One you knew in the light.” I am not minimizing the value of accumulated wisdom. The Old Testament sage commands, “ Get  wisdom” (Proverbs 4:7). Jesus “ increased  in wisdom” (Luke 2:52). Paul prays that we would be “ filled  with spiritual wisdom” (Colossians 1:9). We know that in Christ “are hidden all the treasures of wisdom” (Colossians 2:3). Paul calls us to admonish each other “in all wisdom” (Colossians 3:16). James tells us that if we “lack wisdom,” we should ask for it from God (James 1:5). For there is a “wisdom that comes down from above” (James 3:17). We can never get too much wisdom. But my point is that if you are 30 instead of 70, you should not be intimidated or paralyzed by the fact that you still have 40 years of wisdom accumulation in front of you. As you read your Bible tomorrow morning, praying for supernatural insight, God may grant you a glimpse of some precious truth that later in the day will be exactly the truth that your struggling friend needs. Am I Beyond Hope? After the conversation that I had recently with my friend, he followed up with an email. He was still in distress. What do you say when you feel you have said all you know to say — in the book and in conversation? One answer is this: Don’t think that you need  the  tailor-made answer to the presenting problem. Instead, realize that  any  precious biblical truth that has ministered deeply to you, though it may seem irrelevant to your friend’s situation, may be more helpful than you realize. Just go ahead and overflow from your morning devotions. They will know the truth (which may seem random to us), and the truth may set them free. You also can give the sober counsel that struggling has hope of success, but forsaking the struggle does not. I think it is a mistake to give unqualified assurance to a struggler when you do not know if they are born again. You hope they are. They hope they are. But you are not God. And they are in a season of darkness. What you do know beyond doubt is: if they finally abandon Christ and hope, there is no hope. “Struggling has hope of success, but forsaking the struggle does not.” So I thought it might be helpful to share with you how I responded to my friend’s email. Keep in mind that his struggle has to do with patterns of repeated sin which make him feel hopeless about ever getting victory. These failures leave him feeling distant from God and, at times, wondering if he is a Christian, or perhaps whether he may even be an Esau who has spurned grace so often that true repentance is no longer possible (Hebrews 12:16–17). This is a terrifying position to be in. I don’t think my friend is unusual. I think thousands of Christians, if they will pause to be painfully honest, will admit to the same struggles. It is hard to admit this, because it is so scary. Parts of the following letter are exact quotes. Other parts are altered enough so as not to betray any confidences. Letter to a Distressed Friend Dear brother, I totally empathize with the frustration and fears of possibly being an Esau because of sinning so deeply against God’s mercy and light and patience. There is no comfortable answer to how one conquers such fears and escapes such a condition. From my own experience, what I would say is this: If you have the grace to hold on to God’s mercy and not throw it away in apostasy, there is hope. This is not a comfortable answer. It doesn’t speak in terms of simple certainties — namely, that you will definitely prove not to be an Esau. But it is the only way forward into light and hope and relief. I can’t promise that you  are  a child of God, but I  can  promise that if you throw away hope, you will prove  not  to be a child of God. God’s word speaks often about “waiting” for the Lord, as in Psalm 40: I waited patiently for the Lord;      he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction,      out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock,      making my steps secure. (Psalm 40:1–2) How long was David in the miry bog? It doesn’t say. But what is clear from all the psalms is that the psalmists never forsake God when they feel like he has forsaken them. Something holds them. “I can’t promise that you’re a child of God, but I can promise that if you abandon hope, you will prove not to be.” Not only does the Bible speak of waiting for God in the miry bog, but it also speaks of true believers walking in a kind of darkness. Perhaps you have considered this word from Isaiah: Who among you fears the Lord      and obeys the voice of his servant? Let him who walks in darkness       and has no light trust in the name of the Lord       and rely on his God. Behold, all you who kindle a fire,      who equip yourselves with burning torches! Walk by the light of your fire,      and by the torches that you have kindled! This you have from my hand:      you shall lie down in torment. (Isaiah 50:10–11) We may not be able to describe adequately what it means  both  to walk in darkness  and  to trust the Lord. They seem contradictory. And yet there it is. I’m suggesting that it would mean this: When the darkness of uncertainty and fear hangs over you, inasmuch as by grace it remains in you,  don’t let go of the One you knew in the light . Keep holding on, if only, it may seem, by your fingernails. Know this: his hands are on his children’s fingernails — day and night. Pray for dawn and deliverance. From where I stand at age 72, I believe I can encourage you that it will come. Paul speaks in a way that captures some of the mystery of the ongoing battle with sin: Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord! So then, I myself serve the law of God with my mind, but with my flesh I serve the law of sin. (Romans 7:24–25) Paul is ashamed of his inconsistency in these times of defeat. But he does not despair. He looks away from himself, confesses his divided self, and presses on in the battle. But he also tells us that the way he fights as an imperfect saint is by the hope that Christ has a firmer grip on him than he does on Christ. He may feel like only his fingernails grip the cliff. But he believes that Christ grips his fingernails: Not that I have already obtained this or am already perfect, but I press on to make it my own,  because Christ Jesus has made me his own . (Philippians 3:12) Or, to paraphrase, “I grasp for the hope for future perfection, because Christ has already grasped me and will not let me go.” Sometimes we feel his grasp more sweetly than at other times. It is a fearful thing when we are going through a season where we don’t feel it at all. I’m not going to give you a list of ways to fight for your joy. Those are all in the book that you already read. What I am doing in this letter is simply reminding you (1) that God is present in the darkness, (2) that he is holding on to his people when they feel barely able to hold on to him, and (3) that though you may feel unsure of your salvation in this struggle, you may be  totally  sure you will not have salvation if you give up the struggle and walk away. “If you have the grace to hold on to God’s mercy and not throw it away in apostasy or suicide, there is hope.” May I recommend a song about God’s precious keeping power? In the last several years, the song “He Will Hold Me Fast” has gone deep with me and become very sweet. I love the robust congregational affirmation of this recording of Capitol Hill Baptist Church singing it. I could never keep my hold Through life’s fearful path. For my love is often cold, He must hold me fast. May God give you the grace to sing it anew.

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