About the Book
"The Devil's Door" by John Bevere is a thought-provoking and biblically based exploration of how Christians can unknowingly open the door to demonic influence in their lives through sin, disobedience, and ungodly choices. The book provides practical guidance on how to recognize and close these doors through repentance, forgiveness, and spiritual warfare, ultimately leading to greater spiritual freedom and victory in Christ.
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.
A Letter to Younger Me About Money
If you listen to anyone in their senior years long enough, you’ll eventually hear something like, “If I knew then what I know now . . . ” But seniors aren’t the only ones who feel that way. At age thirty, I find myself already saying the same thing about money. Recently, I left a financial planning firm after working as a creative director and wealth coach. I learned more in one year about financial stewardship than I had learned in my first 29 years of life. While working at the firm, I discovered the sorry state of my family’s finances. I knew we weren’t great with money, but I didn’t realize the extent of our financial ignorance and problems. I also discovered that I wasn’t alone. After six months at the firm, I was able to counsel clients who needed basic financial coaching, and it wasn’t pretty. Regardless of income, most were living paycheck to paycheck, and they were up to their eyeballs in debt. Today, twenty-somethings are bombarded with opportunities to make poor financial decisions. At the relatively young age of thirty, I often find myself saying, “I wish I knew at twenty what I know today about money.” If I could have a conversation with my twenty-year-old self about money, here are three things I would tell him. 1. Money cannot buy you happiness. Throughout my twenties, I viewed money as the solution to most of my problems. This belief dictated how I spent my time and, ultimately, my earnings. At one point, I had seven jobs while pursuing a master’s degree. But I was still broke and in debt, and I never finished my studies. Rather than a source of joy, money became a cruel master (Matthew 6:24). What I’ve discovered is that my experience is all too common. The sad thing is that so few of us seem to learn from our mistakes. We keep trying to pursue happiness through more money. Some will point to studies that suggest there’s a correlation between money and happiness. One article reported that each additional dollar earned per year reduces people’s negative emotions — but that effect disappears at about $200,000 annually. In other words, money is a limited help at best, and certainly doesn’t buy lasting happiness, as any honest observer of wealthy people can quickly perceive. Ultimately, money is a means to an end. A dollar or a piece of gold is only as valuable as what we can trade for it. And money is dangerous. It gives the illusion of granting access to anything. So we can easily elevate it to the throne that should be reserved only for our ultimate provider: God, the giver of all good things. So I would tell my twenty-year-old self: Don’t try to buy happiness with money. This would have dramatically changed my finances, especially with regard to debt. 2. Don’t borrow money carelessly. In my twenties, I borrowed foolishly, and I’m still paying for it. From student loans to credit cards, I went into debt without giving it a second thought. Debt allowed me to get what I wanted when I wanted it. And the best part? I didn’t have to wait or ask for permission. This is the great temptation every twenty-something faces in an age when money is so easily borrowed. The Bible doesn’t condemn debt as inherently sinful, but it clearly warns us that money shouldn’t be borrowed haphazardly. And Scripture also tells us that when we incur a debt, it is evil not to pay what we owe. Romans 13:8 says, “Let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another” (NIV). And Psalm 37:21 says, “The wicked borrows and does not repay, but the righteous shows mercy and gives” (NKJV). If I could counsel my twenty-year-old self on debt, here’s what I would say: Don’t borrow money unless you absolutely have to. There is too much at stake to borrow money without giving it careful thought. If you’re considering a credit card or a loan, count the costs, and beware of the risks. And once in debt, I would say, Make a plan to eliminate it as soon as possible. 3. Save, give, and spend money proactively. “A wise man thinks ahead; a fool doesn’t and even brags about it!” (Proverbs 13:16 TLB). One of the worst mistakes I made with money was failing to plan wisely. When I received a paycheck or extra cash, I lacked direction. Like the fool in that Proverb, I was proud that I didn’t budget. I absolutely hated the idea. Budgeting felt intimidating and seemed like a lot of work. Besides, as long as I didn’t plan, I could remain in denial that I was a poor steward of the resources God had given me. I could pretend I was giving and spending wisely and no one could confirm or deny it. And I could make spending decisions based mostly on my feelings. This felt like freedom, but it wasn’t. Now I would say this to my foolish twenty-year-old self: Making a plan for your money may help give you dominion over it. Being planless is not being free; being planless makes you a slave to money. But a good financial plan turns money into your slave to serve what you really value. You will be empowered to save, give, and spend money proactively rather than reactively. It’s Not Too Late to Change Hindsight is indeed twenty-twenty. And it’s not like I now manage money perfectly. Even though I understand more now how to handle money, I don’t always act on my knowledge. But over the last year, I’ve come a long way. And if I can’t help my twenty-year-old self, I hope I can help others avoid the mistakes I made, or help them make changes like I’ve had to make. No matter how old we are, it’s not too late to correct our course. We’re never too old to stop trying to buy happiness with money, or to get out of debt as soon as possible, or to begin governing money instead of being governed by money. We want to serve God and not money (Matthew 6:24). But the less intentional we are with our money, the more likely we will end up serving it, for good stewardship is impossible without intentionality. Article by Phillip Holmes