GIP Library icon

LOG IN TO REVIEW
J.C. Ryle

J.C. Ryle ​John Charles Ryle (May 10, 1816 - June 10, 1900) was an evangelical Anglican clergyman and first Bishop of Liverpool. He was renowned for his powerful preaching and extensive tracts. Biography Ryle was born on May 10th, 1816 at Park House, Macclesfield, the eldest son of John Ryle MP and Susannah Ryle. His family had made their money in the silk mills of the Industrial Revolution, and were prominent members of Cheshire society. Accordingly, Ryle was educated at Eton College and then Christ Church, Oxford, where he took a congratulatory First in Greats, and a Blue in cricket. Conversion and ordination Ryle's family were nominal Anglicans, and until his time as an undergraduate Ryle had a similar attitude to Christianity. However, as he was due to sit his final examinations, he became seriously ill with a chest infection, and was confined to his bed. During this time he began to pray and seriously read the Scriptures. However his conversion occurred when he attended an unknown church, and arriving late, he heard the reading Ephesians 2:8-9. The force of these words hit his heart, and from that point on he was assured of his salvation. After leaving Oxford, he returned to Macclesfield to assist his father in business and with the assumption that he would inherit the estate. However in June 1841 Ryle Senior was bankrupted, and the family was left ruined, and forced to leave Macclesfield. With his future now in tatters, Ryle was forced to look for a profession to sustain himself, and as a last resort, he offered himself for ministry in the Church of England. He was duly accepted and ordained in December 1841 by Bishop C.R. Summner of Winchester. Parish ministry Ryle's first charge was as curate of the hamlet of Exbury in Hampshire, an area of a rough but sparse agricultural population, and riddled with disease. After a difficult two years, he became unwell, and was forced to spend several months recuperating. In November 1843 he moved to become the rector of St Thomas', Winchester, where he made a reputation for himself as an energetic and thorough pastor. Over a period of six months the congregation grew to well over six hundred communicants, and the church was forced to consider alternative accommodation. However Ryle was offered the living of Helmingham, Suffolk, and it was to here that he moved in 1844, where he stayed until 1861. With a congregation of some two hundred, it was here that Ryle began to read widely amongst the Reformed theologians, and produce the writings that would make him famous. It was at Helmingham that he began his series of "Expository Thoughts on the Gospels", and started his tract-writing. Though his time at Helmingham was extremely fruitful, Ryle quarreled with the squire John Tollemache, and by 1861 he felt the need to move on. His final parish incumbency was Stradbroke, also in Suffolk, and it was from here that Ryle became nationally famed for his firm preaching and staunch defense of evangelical principles, both from the study and the platform. He wrote several well-known books, mainly based on his tracts and sermons, and often addressing issues of contemporary relevance for the Church from a Biblical standpoint. Of these, perhaps the most enduring are "Holiness" and "Practical Religion", both still in print. Episcopate Ryle's uncompromising evangelicalism in the face of increasing liberal and Tractarian opposition gained him many admirers, and he was fast becoming one of the leading lights of the evangelical party. He was originally recommended for the post of Dean of Salisbury, but before he was appointed the out-going Conservative Prime Minister Benjamin Disraeli offered him the position of Bishop of the newly-created Diocese of Liverpool. Ryle moved to Liverpool in 1880, and would stay until 1900. Despite his previous ministry experience having been almost exclusively exercised within a rural context, his plain speech and distinctive principles made him a favorite amongst Liverpool's largely working-class population. He proved an active bishop, encouraging the building of more churches and missions to reach out to the growing urban communities, and generally seeking to develop the new diocese as best he could. In common with many late Victorian bishops, Ryle was increasingly forced to deal with the tensions caused by the developing Anglo-Catholic wing of the Church of England. Of particular note is the so-called "Bell Cox Case" of 1885. Bell Cox was vicar of St. Margaret's, and a committed Ritualist. His Catholic practices soon came to the attention of several prominent evangelicals in the city, and one of them, James Hakes of the Liverpool Church Association, brought a private prosecution against Bell Cox under the Public Worship and Regulation Act of Despite Ryle's entreaties, Bell Cox refused to moderate his behavior, and thus the case proceeded to the Chancery Court of York, where Bell Cox was found guilty of contempt of court, and imprisoned for seventeen days. Ryle's behavior in particular was criticized for his failure to exercise his legal episcopal veto over the prosecution, and his apparent willingness to allow one of his clergy to be imprisoned over matters of worship. However, an examination of letters written by Ryle from the time suggest that Ryle was by no means a supporter of such practice, yet felt it wrong to come between the law and the defendant, particularly in the case of a private prosecution. In his speech to the Liverpool Diocesan conference the same year he openly declared the imprisonment of clergy over such matters as "barbarous", hardly a note of support. ​ Ryle's tenure as bishop in general is remarkable for his efforts to build churches and mission halls to reach the rapidly expanding urban areas of Liverpool. Though subsequent biographers have criticised this policy, owing to figures which suggest a general decline in church attendance,[[ Link title]] it perhaps says most about Ryle's heart as an evangelist; a desire for all to hear and respond to the Gospel. Ryle served as Bishop until March 1900, where in his eighty-fourth year, a stroke and a general decline in health forced him to retire, despite his desire to die "in harness." He retired to Lowestoft, Suffolk, however passed away on 10th June 1900. He was interred in All Saint's, Childwall, next to his third wife, Henrietta. Bio. Taken from Theopedia

Reformation Day: Jesus Came Knocking

Sometime around A.D. 95, Jesus, through the apostle John, came metaphorically knocking on the door of the church in Laodicea with an unsurpassed invitation: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” (Revelation 3:20) Pulled out of its context, this verse can sound like Jesus was calling softly and tenderly. Paintings inspired by this verse tend to portray a gentle Jesus mildly knocking. In reality, he was anything but soft and tender, gentle and mild. This invitation came on the heels of a bracing rebuke and serious warning. Jesus was pounding on the Laodicean’s door with the urgency of emergency: “I know your works: you are neither cold nor hot. Would that you were either cold or hot! So, because you are lukewarm, and neither hot nor cold, I will spit you out of my mouth. For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked. I counsel you to buy from me gold refined by fire, so that you may be rich, and white garments so that you may clothe yourself and the shame of your nakedness may not be seen, and salve to anoint your eyes, so that you may see. Those whom I love, I reprove and discipline, so be zealous and repent.” (Revelation 3:15–19) Jesus was pounding on the door of a church whose trust in an idol put them in grave spiritual danger. Their prosperous tepidness made him want to gag. But because he loved these lukewarm Christians, he lovingly disciplined them with hard words and called them to zealous repentance and reformation. When Jesus Came Knocking in Wittenberg On October 31, 1517, Jesus, through a little-known German priest/professor named Martin Luther, came quite literally knocking on the Wittenberg door of the Roman Catholic Church. Unrestrained corruption of power and wealth was a sin-cancer that had metastasized in the Roman Catholic Church and spread to many of her leaders and, through them, into her doctrines and practices. This cancer was killing the church. She too had grown very prosperous and yet did not realize how wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked she had become. She had not listened sufficiently to Jesus’s authoritative voice in the Scriptures, or to the prophetic voices of warning that he had repeatedly sent to her. The Lord was at the end of his patience. But because he loved his sin-diseased church whose idolatry put her in grave spiritual danger, he sent an unlikely messenger from an unlikely town — so very like the Lord — with a hard word of loving discipline. Professor Luther walked up to the door of the Castle Church in Wittenberg with a hammer, a few nails, and a parchment listing 95 stinging indictments against the Roman Catholic Church. Unlike what the Laodiceans received, Luther’s theses were not inerrant Scripture. In fact, later Luther knew a number of them did not go far enough. But still, they were a largely biblical call to zealous repentance, as the first thesis so clearly captures: When our Lord and Master Jesus Christ said, ‘Repent’ (Matthew 4:17), he willed the entire life of believers to be one of repentance. In the pounding of Martin’s hammer, Jesus came knocking. And his knocking set off a chain-reaction that exploded into the Protestant Reformation, a gospel detonation that is still shaking the world nearly 500 years later. A Reformation Detonation As a result of October 31, 1517, hundreds of millions of Christians all over the world have submitted to God’s word as their highest authority (Sola Scriptura) and his teaching that salvation is a gift given by God’s grace alone (Sola Gratia) through the instrument of faith alone (Sola Fide) in the death and resurrection of their one savior and mediator, Jesus Christ (Sola Christus), so that all glory would always redound to the Triune God alone (Sola Deo Gloria). Wherever the church opened the door to Jesus, repentance and reformation was like chemotherapy to the cancer of spiritual corruption and recovered belief in the gospel of Christ spread spiritual health through much of Europe, then on to the New World, Asia, and Africa. It spawned massive evangelism, church planting, Bible translation, and frontier missions efforts. And in its wake it brought about all manner of social good: stronger families, honest commerce, economic empowerment for the poor, hospitals and clinics for the sick, education for the masses, encouragement for the scientific enterprise, democratic forms of civic government, and on and on. When we really comprehend the massive floodgate of mercy that was opened to us because Jesus came knocking in Wittenberg, Reformation Day (October 31st) becomes a thanksgiving day — a day for feasting or perhaps for fasting and prayer for another reformation detonation in our lives and churches and nations. Is Jesus Knocking on Your Door? In fact, given the prosperity that most of us in the West are experiencing and the arid spiritual climate most of us live in, it may be that the best way we can observe Reformation Day is to do some serious, prayerful soul-searching. Have we allowed a Laodicean type of acedia to settle in? We know that significant portions of the Western church are diseased with various heresies. Do they provoke us to earnest prayer? And we should ask ourselves, is Jesus knocking — or pounding — on our door? Are we hearing him? Are we ignoring or even resisting him? Are we tolerating and justifying any idols? One clear symptom of idolatry is spiritual lukewarmness. Tepidness typically does not feel like a grave danger. It can feel like a tolerable and even nearly pleasant malaise. But it is deadly. In this state we do not realize how wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked we are. And because Jesus loves sinful people like us, when we fall into such a state he comes knocking — hard. We often do not recognize it as him at first because he can come in the form of a messenger, sometimes an unlikely one. And the pounding of their hard words can make us defensive and mad. But let us listen carefully and drop our guard. The hard words are painful, especially to our pride. But Jesus (or his imperfect messenger) is not being mean or condemning us. It is the loving discipline of our Savior to warn us. Lukewarmness means spiritual life-threatening idolatry. The cure is for us to “be zealous and repent” (Revelation 3:19). If Jesus is knocking on our door, let us welcome him in fully that we may eat with him and he with us (Revelation 3:20). Accepting his unsurpassed invitation to joy through repentance and reformation may be the greatest way to celebrate Reformation Day. Article by Jon Bloom

Feedback
Suggestionsuggestion box
x