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About the Book
"Think and Grow Rich" by Napoleon Hill is a classic self-help book that outlines the principles for achieving financial success and fulfilling one's dreams. Hill emphasizes the power of positive thinking, goal setting, persistence, and taking action as key elements in achieving wealth and success. Through anecdotes and practical advice, the book offers a blueprint for anyone looking to improve their mindset and achieve their financial goals.
John Knox
"The sword of justice is God's, and if princes and rulers fail to use it, others may."
He was a minister of the Christian gospel who advocated violent revolution. He was considered one of the most powerful preachers of his day, but only two of the hundreds of sermons he preached were ever published. He is a key figure in the formation of modern Scotland, yet there is only one monument erected to him in Scotland, and his grave lies beneath a parking lot.
John Knox was indeed a man of many paradoxes, a Hebrew Jeremiah set down on Scottish soil. In a relentless campaign of fiery oratory, he sought to destroy what he felt was idolatry and to purify Scotland's religion.
Taking up the cause
John Knox was born around 1514, at Haddington, a small town south of Edinburgh. Around 1529 he entered the University of St. Andrews and went on to study theology. He was ordained in 1536, but became a notary, then a tutor to the sons of local lairds (lower ranking Scottish nobility).
Dramatic events were unfolding in Scotland during Knox's youth. Many were angry with the Catholic church, which owned more than half the real estate and gathered an annual income of nearly 18 times that of the crown. Bishops and priests were often mere political appointments, and many never hid their immoral lives: the archbishop of St. Andrews, Cardinal Beaton, openly consorted with concubines and sired 10 children.
The constant sea traffic between Scotland and Europe allowed Lutheran literature to be smuggled into the country. Church authorities were alarmed by this "heresy" and tried to suppress it. Patrick Hamilton, an outspoken Protestant convert, was burned at the stake in 1528.
In the early 1540s, Knox came under the influence of converted reformers, and under the preaching of Thomas Guilliame, he joined them. Knox then became a bodyguard for the fiery Protestant preacher George Wishart, who was speaking throughout Scotland.
In 1546, however, Beaton had Wishart arrested, tried, strangled, and burned. In response, a party of 16 Protestant nobles stormed the castle, assassinated Beaton, and mutilated his body. The castle was immediately put to siege by a fleet of French ships (Catholic France was an ally to Scotland). Though Knox was not privy to the murder, he did approve of it, and during a break in the siege, he joined the besieged party in the castle.
During a Protestant service one Sunday, preacher John Rough spoke on the election of ministers, and publicly asked Knox to undertake the office of preacher. When the congregation confirmed the call, Knox was shaken and reduced to tears. He declined at first, but eventually submitted to what he felt was a divine call.
It was a short-lived ministry. In 1547, after St. Andrews Castle had again been put under siege, it finally capitulated. Some of the occupants were imprisoned. Others, like Knox, were sent to the galleys as slaves.
Traveling preacher
Nineteen months passed before he and others were released. Knox spent the next five years in England, and his reputation for preaching quickly blossomed. But when Catholic Mary Tudor took the throne, Knox was forced to flee to France.
He made his way to Geneva, where he met John Calvin. The French reformer described Knox as a "brother ⌠laboring energetically for the faith." Knox for his part, was so impressed with Calvin's Geneva, he called it, "the most perfect school of Christ that was ever on earth since the days of the apostles."
Knox traveled on to Frankfurt am Main, where he joined other Protestant refugeesâand quickly became embroiled in controversy. The Protestants could not agree on an order of worship. Arguments became so heated that one group stormed out of a church one Sunday, refusing to worship in the same building as Knox.
Back in Scotland, Protestants were redoubling their efforts, and congregations were forming all over the country. A group that came to be called "The Lords of the Congregation" vowed to make Protestantism the religion of the land. In 1555, they invited Knox to return to Scotland to inspire the reforming task. Knox spent nine months preaching extensively and persuasively in Scotland before he was forced to return to Geneva.
Fiery blasts of the pen
Away from his homeland again, he published some of his most controversial tracts: In his Admonition to England he virulently attacked the leaders who allowed Catholicism back in England. In The First Blast of the Trumpet Against the Monstrous Regiment of Women he argued that a female ruler (like English Queen Mary Tudor) was "most odious in the presence of God" and that she was "a traitoress and rebel against God." In his Appellations to the Nobility and Commonality of Scotland, he extended to ordinary people the rightâindeed the dutyâto rebel against unjust rulers. As he told Queen Mary of Scotland later, "The sword of justice is God's, and if princes and rulers fail to use it, others may."
Knox returned to Scotland in 1559, and he again deployed his formidable preaching skills to increase Protestant militancy. Within days of his arrival, he preached a violent sermon at Perth against Catholic "idolatry," causing a riot. Altars were demolished, images smashed, and religious houses destroyed.
In June, Knox was elected the minister of the Edinburgh church, where he continued to exhort and inspire. In his sermons, Knox typically spent half an hour calmly exegeting a biblical passage. Then as he applied the text to the Scottish situation, he became "active and vigorous" and would violently pound the pulpit. Said one note taker, "he made me so to grew [quake] and tremble, that I could not hold pen to write."
The Lords of the Congregation militarily occupied more and more cities, so that finally, in the 1560 Treaty of Berwick, the English and French agreed to leave Scotland. (The English, now under Protestant Elizabeth I, had come to the aid of the Protestant Scots; the French were aiding the Catholic party). The future of Protestantism in Scotland was assured.
The Parliament ordered Knox and five colleagues to write a Confession of Faith, the First Book of Discipline, and The Book of Common Orderâall of which cast the Protestant faith of Scotland in a distinctly Calvinist and Presbyterian mode.
Knox finished out his years as preacher of the Edinburgh church, helping shape the developing Protestantism in Scotland. During this time, he wrote his History of the Reformation of Religion in Scotland.
Though he remains a paradox to many, Knox was clearly a man of great courage: one man standing before Knox's open grave said, "Here lies a man who neither flattered nor feared any flesh." Knox's legacy is large: his spiritual progeny includes some 750,000 Presbyterians in Scotland, 3 million in the United States, and many millions more worldwide.
Will You Praise Him While You Wait
I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. (Psalm 13:5) If faith is the beating heart of a Christianâs spiritual anatomy, then praise is the healthy pulse. When faith looks back upon Godâs wondrous deeds of redemption, we cannot help but praise. We praise him for parting the Red Sea with a word. We praise him for felling giants with a shepherdâs sling. We praise him for sending his Son to suffer and die. We praise him for raising Christ from the grave. âIf faith is the beating heart of a Christianâs spiritual anatomy, then praise is the healthy pulse.â Yet faith goes further still. Not content to praise God only on the far side of deliverance, faith teaches us to praise him before deliverance even comes: not only after heâs parted the Red Sea, but while the Egyptian army still presses in; not only after Goliath lies slain, but as he still taunts the hosts of Israel; not only after the stone rolls away from the tomb, but during the Sabbath silence of Holy Saturday. As David shows us in Psalm 13, such praise does not arise effortlessly. Often, it comes on the other side of agonizing prayer. How Long, O Lord? Without introduction or preamble, Psalm 13 opens in anguish: âHow long, O Lord?â The question is a familiar one for most, even if our straits have not been quite so dire as Davidâs. Pressure builds. Prayer apparently goes unheard. All the while, Godâs promises rest unfulfilled. No matter where David looks, comfort eludes him. Above, a wall of clouds hides Godâs face (Psalm 13:1). Within, cares and sorrows swirl (Psalm 13:2). Around, enemies threaten the tottering king (Psalm 13:2). Four times in two verses, David repeats his question: âHow long? . . . How long? . . . How long? . . . How long?â Yet even here, faith has not forsaken him. For all the misery wrapped up in Davidâs question, he knows that Godâs intervention is a matter not of if, but of when â not of âWill you?â but of âHow long?â His is no cry of despair thrown up into a godless sky, but rather the song of distressed trust. âConsider and Answer Meâ With each breath in the psalm, faith grows firmer. By verse 3, God is not only âO Lord,â but âO Lord my God.â At the same time, lament gives way to petition: âConsider and answer me . . . light up my eyesâ (Psalm 13:3). Genuine faith may often speak the language of lament and complaint, but eventually it takes up the language of specific request. David follows his prayers to be seen, answered, and revived with three reasons: âLest I sleep the sleep of death, lest my enemy say, âI have prevailed over him,â lest my foes rejoice because I am shakenâ (Psalm 13:3â4). These reasons may seem, at first, simply like the logic of desperation: âAnswer me or I will die!â But more is going on here than that. âWhen we merely give vent to the chaos within us, our prayers often leave us right where we started.â David, desperate as he may be, is appealing to God on the basis of his own promises. Early in Davidâs public life, God pledged that the shepherd boy would sit on the throne of Israel. Then he sealed that pledge with covenant promises: âI will make for you a great name. . . . I will give you rest from all your enemies. . . . When your days are fulfilled and you lie down with your fathers, I will raise up your offspring after youâ (2 Samuel 7:9, 11â12). In Psalm 13, those promises seem to be in jeopardy. So David sends them back to God, wrapped in prayer. When we merely give vent to the chaos within us, our prayers often leave us right where we started. But when we pray in the slipstream of Godâs promises, we often find, with David, faith slowly rising. âI Will Sing to the Lordâ Many Christians are familiar with the famous âBut Godâ statements of the New Testament (Ephesians 2:4, for example). Yet we can look not only at our sin and say, âBut Godâ; we can look also at our despair and say, âBut Iâ: But I have trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me. (Psalm 13:5â6) No circumstance has changed; no prayer has been answered; no deliverance has arrived. Yet in a moment, enemies grow small, sorrow and care loosen their grip, and lament gives way to praise. Why? Because Davidâs prayerful meditation on Godâs promises has reminded him of something more powerful than his enemies, more certain than his sorrow: âyour steadfast love.â Another psalm of David shows us why steadfast love had such an effect on the fainting king. From the perspective of time, the steadfast love of the Lord is âfrom everlasting to everlastingâ; from the perspective of space, it is âas high as the heavens are above the earthâ; from the perspective of Godâs character, it flows from him with abundance (Psalm 103:8, 11, 17). Such steadfast love is the pledge of all Godâs promises. No wonder David sings. Today, we have even greater assurances of Godâs steadfast love: a bloody cross, an empty tomb, and a Savior who sits on the throne. And if this steadfast love is ours, then we too can sing with abandon, far before deliverance comes. For if Christ has come, and if we are in him by faith alone, then God will not fail to deal bountifully with us. Article by Scott Hubbard