The Blizzard

Tony Reinke Winter

A giant storm ripped through the Midwest yesterday, covering much of the country in dense snow. But imagine enduring a blizzard like this in the 18th century. Here’s one perspective of living through a strong winter storm, written by theologian James Hervey (1714–1758) in his Meditations and Contemplations (Bath: 1748), 2:278, 264–266:

Cold comes out of the north. The winds, having swept those deserts of snow, arm themselves with millions of frozen particles, and make a fierce descent upon our isle. Under black and scowling clouds, they drive, dreadfully whizzing, through the darkened air. They growl around our houses; assault our doors; and, eager for entrance, fasten on our windows. Walls can scarce restrain them; bars are unable to exclude them; through every cranny they force their way. …

How mighty! How majestic! And O, how mysterious, are thy works, thou God of heaven, and Lord of nature! When the air is calm, where sleep the stormy winds? In what chambers are they reposed, or in what dungeons confined? Till Thou art pleased to awaken their rage, and throw open their prison doors. Then, with irresistible impetuosity they fly forth, scattering dread, and threatening destruction.

The whole atmosphere is hurled into the most tumultuous confusion. The aerial torrent bursts its way over the mountains, seas and continents. All things feel the dreadful shock. All things tremble before the furious blast. The forest, vexed and tore, groans under the scourge: her sturdy sons are strained to the very root, and almost kiss the soil, they were wont to shade. The stubborn oak, that disdains the bend, is dashed headlong to the ground; and, with shattered arms, with prostrate trunk, blocks the road.—While the flexible reed, that springs up in the March, yielding to the gust eludes the force of the storm, and survives amidst the widespread havoc.

For a moment, the turbulent and outrageous sky seems to be assuaged: but, it intermits its wrath, only to increase its strength. Soon, the founding squadrons of the air return to the attack, and renew their ravages with redoubled fury. The stately dome rocks, amidst the wheeling clouds. The impregnable tower totters on its basis; and threatens to overwhelm, whom it was intended to protect. The ragged rock is rend in pieces; and even the hills, the perpetual hills, on their deep foundations, are scarce secure.

Where, now, is the place of safety? When the city reels, and houses become heaps! Sleep affrighted flies. Diversion is turned into horror. All is uproar in the element; all is consternation among morals; and nothing but one wise scene of rueful devastation through the land.—Yet, this is only an inferior minister of divine displeasure. The executioner of milder indignation. How then—O, how will the lofty looks of man be humbled, and the haughtiness of men be bowed down; when the Lord God omnipotent shall meditate terrors—when he shall set all his terrors in array—when he arises, to judge the nations, and to shake terribly the earth!

On Legalistic Preaching

Tony Reinke Legalism, Legalist, Preaching

Yesterday I spent the day researching in the main reading room at the Library of Congress. Reading there is really one of the coolest experiences a nerd could ever blog about. Mainly I was there to kick around some ideas I have for a potential book project and the purpose of my trip was really not much more than acclimating myself to a number of 18th century writers that I am only vaguely familiar. One of those writers is Ralph Erskine. Erskine wrote a book, indecisively titled Gospel Sonnets, Or, Spiritual Songs (Edinburgh: 1755). One of the chapters in the book is comprised of several sonnets that slap legalistic preachers around. This sonnet was too good not to post (pp. 49-51):

Hell cares not how crude holiness be preach’d,
If sinners match with Christ be never reach’d;
Knowing their holiness is but a sham,
Who ne’er are marry’d to the holy Lamb.
They mar true holiness with tickling chat,
To breed a bastard Pharisaic brat.
They woefully the gospel-message broke,
Make fearful havoc of the Master’s flock;
Yet please themselves and the blind multitude,
By whom the gospel’s little understood.

Rude souls perhaps imagine little odds
Between the legal and the gospel roads:
But vainly men attempt to blend the two. …
The fiery law, as ’tis a covenant,
Schools men to see the gospel-aid they want;
Then gospel-aid does sweetly them incline
Back to the law as ’tis a rule divine.
Heav’n’s healing work is oft commenc’d with wounds,
Terror begins what loving-kindness crowns.

Preachers may therefore press the fiery law,
To strike the Christless man with dreadful awe.
Law-threats which for his sins to hell depress,
Yes, damn him for his rotten righteousness;
That, while he view the law exceeding broad,
He fain may wed the righteousness of God.

But ah! to press law-works as terms of life,
Was ne’er the way to court the Lamb a wife.
To urge conditions in the legal frame,
Is to renew the vain old cov’nant game.
The law is good when lawfully ’tis us’d,
But most destructive then it is abus’d.
They set not duties in the proper sphere,
Who duly law and gospel don’t sever;
But under lassy chains let sinners lie,
As tributaries, or to DO or DIE.
Nor make the law a squaring rule of life,
But in the gospel-throat a bloody knife.

I Am Not What I Once Was

Tony Reinke John Newton

John Newton:

I am not what I ought to be. Ah, how imperfect and deficient!

I am not what I wish to be. I abhor what is evil, and I would cleave to what is good!

I am not what I hope to be. Soon, soon shall I put off mortality, and with mortality all sin and imperfection.

Yet, though I am not what I ought to be,
nor what I wish to be,
nor what I hope to be,
I can truly say, I am not what I once was;
a slave to sin and Satan;
and I can heartily join with the apostle, and acknowledge,
‘By the grace of God I am what I am.’

And check out this excellent church video made by the folks at Grace Community Church in San Antonio, Texas:

HT: T-Wax

Reading Newton’s Mail

Tony Reinke John Newton

Last year I was a little surprised, and much encouraged, by the response to my blog posts featuring John Newton (1725–1807). I’ve since put more thought into how to expand these posts which led to a plan that should work out nicely. The plan is to publish these meditations each week on CJ’s blog, under the series title: “Reading Newton’s Mail.” Last Friday I published a brief intro to the series. Today I posted the first installment: “Aiming High, Missing Low, Aiming High Again,” highlighting Newton’s thoughts on the spiritual disciplines, both in our ambitious pursuit of them and in responding to personal failures. In all likelihood I will continue to post brief excerpts from Newton here on Miscellanies, but the meditations will now appear each Friday on Cheap Seats. Should be fun. Thanks for reading!

My Awesome Birthday Cake

Tony Reinke Funny business, spurgeon

In case you missed it on Facebook or Twitter, my birthday was last Friday. My gluten free triple-fountain-encore monster truck cake (feat. Grave Digger) was pure chocolate awesomeness. Here are two iPhone pics of the end result. Note how the cocoa powder dusting gave the entire scene a nice authentic appearance. And it was delicious too! My wife rocks.

And here’s the inspiration, a YouTube clip of a real encore fountain feat. Grave Digger (2 trucks):

Calvinism

Tony Reinke Calvinism, John Calvin, John Newton

John Newton (Works 6:151):

I remember that, three or four years ago, I mentioned some part of the gospel truth to a gentleman who called on me here, and he answered, “If it is a truth, you are indebted for it to Calvin.” As well might he have said, because Calvin had seen the sun, and has mentioned it in his writings, we build our knowledge of its light and influence upon his testimony.