February 25, 2011 by Tony Reinke
Categories: Newton
If you are familiar with the television show American Idol you know Simon Cowell, the judge famous for his bluntness, biting criticisms, and blatant insults. In the presence of Simon, grown men and women sing with passion, reaching out to grasp pop-recording stardom. But if they fail to meet his standards, many of those same men and women walk off the stage in tears or anger. They walk back into the real world carrying the shards of a shattered dream. Simon has that effect on people, and he is the man who comes to mind when I read Newton’s letter about how some Christians listen to sermons.
Last week we looked at a portion of this letter as we considered how to respond when our pastor preaches a “sermon dud.” A little later in that same letter, Newton explains how Christians should listen to sermons, and how they should not listen to sermons.
First, Newton explains how we should listen to sermons. We should at all times listen with active biblical discernment:
As a hearer, you have a right to try all doctrines by the word of God; and it is your duty so to do. Faithful ministers will remind you of this: they will not wish to hold you in an implicit and blind obedience to what they say, upon their own authority, nor desire that you should follow them farther than they have the Scripture for their warrant. They would not be lords over your conscience, but helpers of your joy. Prize this Gospel liberty, which sets you free from the doctrines and commandments of men; but do not abuse it to the purposes of pride and self.
Well said.
Then Newton explains how we should not listen to sermons:
There are hearers who make themselves, and not the Scripture, the standard of their judgment. They attend not so much to be instructed, as to pass their sentence. To them, the pulpit is the bar at which the minister stands to take his trial before them; a bar at which few escape censure, from judges at once so severe and inconsistent.
In these few words Newton offers counsel that is biblically wise, balanced, and ready for us to practice on Sunday. At all times we should pray for our pastor and encourage him. At all times we should listen to sermons with discernment. And at some times it may even be appropriate to give our pastor feedback to help him grow.
But we should never listen to sermons with our proverbial arms crossed, as if our pastor were preaching on the American Idol stage, seeking to win the approval of autonomous judges.
Yet this is exactly what happens when hearers base their conclusions about a sermon on personal preference rather than biblical authenticity, writes Newton. To appraise a sermon as a self-appointed judge is simply an inappropriate posture for the listener. However, to eagerly anticipate a sermon and to listen with biblical discernment is a posture of noble worth (Acts 17:11).
Tony Reinke serves as the editorial and research assistant to C.J. Mahaney. Reading Newton’s Mail is a series of blog posts reflecting on various published letters written by John Newton (1725–1807), the onetime captain of a slave trading ship—a self-described apostate, blasphemer, and infidel, who was eventually converted by grace. Newton is most famous for authoring the hymn “Amazing Grace,” or maybe for helping William Wilberforce put an end to the African slave trade in Britain. Less legendarily, Newton faithfully pastored two churches for 43 years, a fruitful period of his life when a majority of his letters were written. Reading Newton’s Mail is published on Fridays here on the Cheap Seats blog.
Source letter: John Newton, Works of John Newton (London: 1820), 1:224-225.
The great reformer and pastor John Calvin was no stranger to criticism. One of his biographers reports that he “was not unfamiliar with the sound of mobs outside his house [in Geneva] threatening to throw him in the river and firing their muskets”[1]. In fact, near the end of his life Calvin said this to a gathering of pastors: “I have lived here amid continual bickerings. I have been from derision saluted of an evening before my door with forty or fifty shots of an arquebus”[2], an arquebus being a large muzzle-loaded rifle that emitted a boom and a large cloud of smoke with each firing. Fifty rounds! And you thought you had critics!
I have been criticized, but to date I have never been threatened like this.
Yet Calvin faithfully ministered in the midst of this severe opposition because he was prepared for it. He understood that the faithful pastor will be criticized.
This wisdom is evident in the following quote from his commentary on 1 Timothy 5:19:
None are more exposed to slanders and insults than godly teachers. This comes not only from the difficulty of their duties, which are so great that sometimes they sink under them, or stagger or halt or take a false step, so that wicked men find many occasions of finding fault with them; but added to that, even when they do all their duties correctly and commit not even the smallest error, they never avoid a thousand criticisms.
It is indeed a trick of Satan to estrange men from their ministers so as gradually to bring their teaching into contempt. In this way not only is wrong done to innocent people whose reputation is undeservedly injured, but the authority of God's holy teaching is diminished....
The more sincerely any pastor strives to further Christ's kingdom, the more he is loaded with spite, the more fierce do the attacks upon him become. And not only so, but as soon as any charge is made against ministers of the Word, it is believed as surely and firmly as if it had been already proved. This happens not only because a higher standard of integrity is required from them, but because Satan makes most people, in fact nearly everyone, over credulous so that without investigation, they eagerly condemn their pastors whose good name they ought to be defending.[3]
The same man who wrote these words faced “continual bickerings,” gunfire, and the threat of drowning. If this was the criticism Calvin faced, then no pastor should be surprised when criticism arrives. Even the most faithful pastors will be criticized.
Knowing this will protect me from a number of temptations. It will certainly protect me from self-pity. I shouldn’t feel sorry for myself just because people say unkind and inaccurate things about me. This would be yet another evidence of pride in my life.
The opposition I have experienced is…well, I am embarrassed to even reference it in light of Calvin’s experience.
But amidst the criticism and opposition, Calvin pressed on.
So should you.
[1] Parker, Portrait of Calvin (Oxford, 1989), 29.
[2] John Dillenberger, John Calvin: Selections from His Writings (Anchor Books, 1975), 42.
[3] Calvin, The Second Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Corinthians and the Epistles to Timothy, Titus and Philemon (Eerdmans, 1996), 263.
February 22, 2011 by C.J. Mahaney
Categories: Correction/criticism
Where has John Newton been all my life?
Newton has recently become a mentor for me. He is a rare embodiment of pastoral humility, compassion, wisdom, and courage, and is always theologically informed and gospel centered.
I see his compelling pastoral example particularly in the words of his letters, first written to inquirers and later published for broad readership. Those letters have had a significant effect on my soul and life, and made a huge difference in how I view and respond to criticism. This is especially true of his letter titled “On Controversy.”
In this letter Newton explains how to humbly respond to an opponent when engaged in a potentially heated theological debate. The context is obviously different from personal criticism, but you will see that Newton’s instruction is relevant to pastors who experience the sting of personal criticism.
In his letter, Newton makes three particularly important points:
1. Pray for your critic.
As to your opponent, I wish, that, before you set pen to paper against him, and during the whole time you are preparing your answer, you may commend him by earnest prayer to the Lord's teaching and blessing. This practice will have a direct tendency to conciliate your heart to love and pity him.
In reality, it is difficult for me to sinfully judge—or even indefinitely dislike—someone I am consistently praying for.
2. If your critic is a believer, count them your brother or sister in Christ.
If you account [your opponent] a believer, though greatly mistaken in the subject of debate between you, the words of David to Joab concerning Absalom are very applicable: “Deal gently with him for my sake” [2 Samuel 18:5]. The Lord loves him and bears with him; therefore you must not despise him, or treat him harshly. The Lord bears with you likewise, and expects that you should show tenderness to others, from a sense of the much forgiveness you need yourself. In a little while you will meet in heaven; he will then be dearer to you than the nearest friend you have upon earth is to you now. Anticipate that period in your thoughts; and though you may find it necessary to oppose his errors, view him personally as a kindred soul, with whom you are to be happy in Christ forever.
“Dearer to me than the nearest friend.” How is that possible? It is possible in light of eternity, and it is possible because he is a brother for whom Christ also died (Romans 14:15).
Please read Newton’s words again (they cannot possibly be digested in one quick read). This paragraph is full of convicting wisdom. I have read it many, many times and I plan to return to it again, particularly when I am being criticized. This perspective will transform your attitude toward your critic.
3. Or, if your critic is not a believer, show them compassion as an unbeliever who needs Christ.
But if you look upon him as an unconverted person, in a state of enmity against God and his grace (a supposition which, without good evidence, you should be very unwilling to admit), he is a more proper subject of your compassion then of your anger.*
Newton’s three points are invaluable for the pastor:
- Pray for those who criticize you—this will soften your heart toward them.
- Know that your fiercest critic—if he is a Christian—will one day be closer to you than your closest friend is now.
- Have pity on your critics who appear to be yet unbelievers, for they need God’s converting grace above all else.
To be honest, I feel as if this 250-year old letter was written to me. The letter has personally guided and directed my heart in times of criticism and the temptations that soon follow.
If you expect personal criticism to be directed your way at some point in your life (and you should), keep Newton’s letter close. It will offer you a divine perspective on your critic, a perspective that can transform your perception of them, inform your prayers for them, and alter your attitude toward them.
* John Newton, The Works of John Newton (London: 1820), 1:268–269.
February 18, 2011 by Tony Reinke
Categories: Newton
Each week thousands of sermons are preached in churches. Some of those sermons will be excellent, many of them will be good, and a few of them will stretch the definition of the word “sermon.” But predictably, there will be a number of good and godly pastors who on a given week stand at the pulpit and deliver—well, how shall we say this?—a sermon dud.
John Newton may or may not have preached many duds, but he did put some thought into how we should respond after we hear one.
After addressing the danger of false teaching in one letter (“Error is like poison; the subtlety, quickness, and force of its operation is often amazing”), Newton changes gears to address how we respond to faithful preachers who deliver the occasional dud.
So how should we respond?
When you hear a Gospel sermon, and it is not in all respects to your satisfaction, be not too hasty to lay the whole blame upon the preacher.
Wait. Huh? Blame sharing?
Newton continues:
The Lord’s ministers have not much to say in their own behalf. They feel (it is to be hoped) their own weakness and defects, and the greatness and difficulty of their work. They are conscious that their warmest endeavors to proclaim the Savior’s glory are too cold, and their most importunate addresses to the consciences of men are too faint: and sometimes they are burdened with such discouragements, that even their enemies would pity them if they knew their case.
Do you pity your pastor? Think about the struggles and the sacrifices and the challenges your pastor faces on a regular basis. The demands of pastoral ministry and preaching are great. And on top of the demands, in many cases the pastor carries within himself a greater desire to serve you than he has the gifts to make it happen. This chronic disappointment is a terrible weight upon the soul of a faithful pastor. Perhaps here Newton is writing out of personal experience.
At this point in the letter Newton characteristically turns the table on his reader.
Indeed, they have much to be ashamed of; but it will be more useful for you, who are a hearer, to consider whether the fault may not possibly be in yourself.
He explains:
Perhaps you thought too highly of the man, and expected too much from him.
Perhaps you thought too meanly of him, and expected too little.
In the former case, the Lord justly disappointed you; in the latter, you received according to your faith.
Perhaps you neglected to pray for him; and then, though he might be useful to others, it is not at all strange that he was not so to you.
Or possibly you have indulged a trifling spirit, and brought a dearth [lack] and deadness upon your own soul; for which you had not been duly humbled, and the Lord chose that time to rebuke you.
Strong and helpful words from Newton.
When we hear a sermon dud, what should we remember?
- Our pastor is weak and sinful, and it’s quite likely that he is already aware of this without our help.
- Our pastor carries a heavy burden for the flock, and there is nothing he wants more than to serve the souls in his church (including you).
- Our pastor benefits from our realistic expectations. We should neither puff him up as a celebrity and expect too much, nor diminish him and his gifts and expect too little.
- Our pastor needs our earnest attention and eager hearts on Sunday. How can we be surprised that we gain so little, when our hearts arrive at church so dull and easily distracted?
- Our pastor must have our prayers. We should appear at church having already prayed that God will bless the sermon and affect hearts with the gospel.
Sermons duds are inevitable, but they are not the sole responsibility of the pastor.
Tony Reinke serves as the editorial and research assistant to C.J. Mahaney. Reading Newton’s Mail is a series of blog posts reflecting on various published letters written by John Newton (1725–1807), the onetime captain of a slave trading ship—a self-described apostate, blasphemer, and infidel, who was eventually converted by grace. Newton is most famous for authoring the hymn “Amazing Grace,” or maybe for helping William Wilberforce put an end to the African slave trade in Britain. Less legendarily, Newton faithfully pastored two churches for 43 years, a fruitful period of his life when a majority of his letters were written. Reading Newton’s Mail is published on Fridays here on the Cheap Seats blog.
Source letter: John Newton, Works of John Newton (London: 1820), 1:224.
Many quotes from the writings and sermons of Charles Spurgeon have served my soul over the years. And there is one particular quote that has served me big time when it comes to personal criticism. I review the quote either before personal criticism arrives (if I have advance warning), or after the criticism appears (if it was a surprise). It both prepares my heart for coming criticism, and provides perspective for my heart once the criticism has been shared.
Check it out:
Brother, if any man thinks ill of you, do not be angry with him; for you are worse than he thinks you to be. If he charges you falsely on some point, yet be satisfied, for if he knew you better he might change the accusation, and you would be no gainer by the correction. If you have your moral portrait painted, and it is ugly, be satisfied; for it only needs a few blacker touches, and it would be still nearer the truth.*
On different occasions over the years I have been on the receiving end of criticism from someone who appeared to have, well, a bad attitude. When this happens I am tempted to be offended by that attitude, and prematurely relieved, concluding that any criticism brought in such an attitude must certainly be inaccurate. And it might be inaccurate (or not). But even if the criticism is inaccurate, any relief I experience is a short-lived when I am reminded of Mr. Spurgeon’s words.
Even if the criticism is inaccurate, that leaves no room for my pride. This is due to the fact that I am more fully informed of my own sin than any critic. More importantly, God is perfectly informed of all my sins. So even if the correction is proven totally inaccurate, I shouldn’t be prouder for it.
Knowing this restrains me from too quickly criticizing and dismissing the perceptions of others, even if their correction is severe, even if their hearts don’t seem humble and kind, and even if their content is largely inaccurate. I can always learn from criticism one simple lesson: I am worse than they think!
Surgeon’s quote humbles me, restrains my pride, and reminds me that I always need a Savior even when others cannot accurately see the true depth of my own sin. I have learned over the years that even when criticism is inaccurate, it should humble me and remind me of God's accurate moral portrait of sinners like me. It should remind me that even the most ill-informed criticism is still more flattering than the reality.
* Charles Spurgeon, sermon, “David Dancing before the Ark because of His Election,” in The Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit Sermons, vol. 35.
February 11, 2011 by Tony Reinke
Categories: Newton
Christians have a long list of daily priorities. Two of the most important priorities are voiced in these two questions:
- How do I focus my life on God’s priorities in the midst of such a busy and complex life?
- How do I grow in demonstrating deeper love to others in the midst of what is often a very self-centered life?
On the surface, these questions may seem unrelated, but for John Newton simplicity and sincerity were indivisible.
For Newton, these two topics merge in the Apostle Paul’s proclamation: “For our boast is this, the testimony of our conscience, that we behaved in the world with simplicity and godly sincerity, not by earthly wisdom but by the grace of God” (2 Cor. 1:12).
From this passage Newton coined an important axiom for the Christian life: vertical simplicity in our relationship with God leads to horizontal sincerity in our relationships with others.
Let me explain how he makes this connection.
Vertical Simplicity
To be simple is to be single-minded, to have one aim, no hidden agendas, and no selfish ambition. Simplicity is another word for “pure devotion,” and it is evidenced by a fear of God in all of life (2 Corinthians 11:3, Colossians 3:22).
The simple heart is revealed in two ways: simplicity of intention and simplicity of dependence.
The Christian seeks to live with simplicity of intention. By this Newton means that the Christian has “but one leading aim,” and it is this: “to yield ourselves to him [God], so as to place our happiness in his favor, and to make his glory and will the ultimate scope of all our actions.” The Christian can (and should) peer through the busyness and fog of life with the single aim of pleasing God in all things. This is simplicity of intention.
Secondly, the Christian seeks to live with simplicity of dependence. This is a “faith in the power and promises of God” that “inspires a noble simplicity, and casts every care upon him, who is able and has engaged to support and provide.” This simple-hearted dependence is the fruit of the gospel in the heart.
The true simplicity, which is the honor and strength of a believer, is the effect of a spiritual perception of the truths of the Gospel. It arises from, and bears a proportion to, the sense we have of our own unworthiness, the power and grace of Christ, and the greatness of our obligations to him. So far as our knowledge of these things is vital and experimental, it will make us simple-hearted.
As we look to our own spiritual weaknesses, our obligations to God, our desperate need for the grace of God and the gospel, we begin to see our dependence. This need brings us to wholehearted trust in God. This is what it means to live in simplicity before God.
Simplicity is forever. This single aim—to live eternally for God’s glory, and to live in full dependence upon him—is what draws together all the Christians on earth, all the Christians in glory, and all the angels in heaven, into a unified chorus of eternal praise to the Savior (Revelation 5:6–14).* And it’s a simplicity we need for today.
Horizontal Sincerity
But what about the other question, the one about displaying genuine love toward one another? The ability to love with sincerity is bound up with a life of simplicity. Newton writes, “I need not take time to prove, that the effect of simplicity will be sincerity.” Of course not. Simplicity in our aim (glorifying God alone) will influence our treatment of others.
Their behavior will be all of a piece, because they have but one design. They will speak the truth in love, observe a strict punctuality in their dealings, and do unto others they would others should do unto them; because these things are essential to their great aim of glorifying and enjoying their Lord.
This explains why for Newton, vertical simplicity in our relationship with God leads to horizontal sincerity in our relationships with others. The outward expression of sincere love hinges upon our simplicity before God. Or to put it another way, the drive behind our love for others is a singular life purpose to live for God’s glory.
May God give us more of this simple-hearted dependence upon the gospel, that we may more and more echo Paul’s words. May we strive to live as single-minded Christians who honor God by loving and serving others from a heart of sincerity.
Note: As an aside, this same theme rings in the missional motives of Jonathan Edwards. To read more about how vertical simplicity creates a horizontal compassion for the lost, see John Piper, Let the Nations Be Glad! (Baker, 2010), chapter 6: “A Passion for God’s Supremacy and Compassion for Man’s Soul: Jonathan Edwards on the Unity of Motives for World Missions.”
Tony Reinke serves as the editorial and research assistant to C.J. Mahaney. Reading Newton’s Mail is a series of blog posts reflecting on various published letters written by John Newton (1725–1807), the onetime captain of a slave trading ship—a self-described apostate, blasphemer, and infidel, who was eventually converted by grace. Newton is most famous for authoring the hymn “Amazing Grace,” or maybe for helping William Wilberforce put an end to the African slave trade in Britain. Less legendarily, Newton faithfully pastored two churches for 43 years, a fruitful period of his life when a majority of his letters were written. Reading Newton’s Mail is published on Fridays here on the Cheap Seats blog.
Primary source letter: John Newton, Works of John Newton (London: 1820), 1:298–304. Secondary reference: *Works, 4:571.
When a pastor is criticized, his wife will likely be tempted to become offended on his behalf against the one bringing the criticism. Because she loves him, she may want to defend her husband from all attacks, criticisms, and corrections.
That can be the initial temptation, and it may seem appropriate, but it isn’t. Instead, she can play a different and much more important role, one that can make all the difference in the heart and life of her husband.
Let me explain.
Preserving and Sharing Content
When criticism arrives, the pastor is wise to share the criticism with his wife. But in doing this he must protect his wife from these predictable temptations. He does this in these ways:
First, he should examine his own heart and his motives, humble himself, and review a biblical understanding of criticism’s value in his life.
Second, and as much as possible, he should listen to the criticism and correction with an objective ear, not being preoccupied with the attitude of the one bringing it, nor becoming distracted by details in the criticism that may be inaccurate. Further, the pastor must learn to separate any concern he might have about the person bringing correction from the content of what he is saying. He can then turn to his wife, share those points of criticism, and ask: “Can you confirm this from your experience? Do you see this in my life?”
Third, when he shares the critical observation with his wife, he should avoid letting the conversation deteriorate into criticizing the critic. He must avoid the temptation to merely seek her support, her defense, and her agreement.
My Wife and My Godliness
Nobody knows us better than our wives. And if there is any level of accuracy in the criticism brought to my attention, there is nobody I trust more to help me see it than Carolyn. By protecting her from very common temptations, and by providing her with the content of the criticism, I can allow her to play an invaluable role in helping me discern the legitimacy of the correction.
Countless times Carolyn has made all the difference in how I have received correction and responded to it. Many times over the years I would have simply dismissed the correction of others if not for Carolyn’s helping me to perceive what was accurate in it.
Each husband needs the kindness of his wife in this way. But again, this isn’t my preference! Many times I have found myself sharing the criticism I have received, assuming she would join me in dismissing both the criticism and the critic…only to realize that as I am talking, her facial expression suggests there is some legitimacy to the criticism. An ominous feeling sweeps over my soul as I realize she isn’t going to confirm my disagreement and dismissal of this criticism!
But this is an act of kindness on her part. It’s obviously not kindness as I would prefer it. I would prefer to only experience Carolyn’s kindness through her supporting encouragement, her loyalty, her defense of me (and she provides me with all of these). I would prefer that she join me in disagreeing with criticism, not helping to confirm its accuracy!
But I have learned that God’s kindness comes to me in many forms, and one form is through a wife that will not become offended on her husband’s behalf, but will instead come alongside him, help him perceive where his critic is accurate, help him see where sin remains in his heart, and help him seize the redemptive purpose of the criticism.
And even though I don’t desire her help in confirming criticism, by doing this Carolyn has shown herself to be the suitable helper I so desperately need.
Speaking of Carolyn, she has wonderfully addressed this very same topic (but from the wife’s perspective) in a blog post we published back in 2008. You can read her comments here.
Criticism wounds. It’s painful. Not all wounds are faithful wounds—some wounds come from reckless words that pierce like a sword (Proverbs 12:18). But I’m not talking about the sting of reckless words in this post. Today I am writing about the sting of criticism that comes even from a faithful wound (Proverbs 27:6). Even from a friend, criticism wounds.
But have you ever wondered what criticism wounds?
I think the simple answer is that criticism wounds the sin that has not been mortified. A wise, older pastor once said to me: “C.J., what hurts isn’t dead yet.” And that is often what criticism wounds—my still-living, still-breathing pride.
Receiving criticism and correction is necessary, because it reveals the blind spots in my life and the pockets of pride that have not been put to death (Colossians 3:5, 12). Therefore we need correction. But by saying this I am not arguing that receiving criticism will be painless or enjoyable. Far from it!
David got this. He understood the benefit, as well as the pain, of correction:
Let a righteous man strike me—it is a kindness;
let him rebuke me—it is oil for my head;
let my head not refuse it. (Psalm 141:5)
Say again? A kindness?
Left to myself I wouldn’t share David’s perspective. This kind of kindness I can do without!
But criticism from a faithful friend (and at times, even from an enemy) is a kindness. It is the kindness of the friend willing to bring an area of concern to my attention, and most importantly it is an expression of God’s kindness, because often through the criticism I perceive my enemy that still lives—my sin!
I find this to be a helpful reminder when the sting of criticism arrives.
Receiving criticism hurts. It always will. I don’t anticipate maturing to a point where receiving correction will become a pure joy. A wound is a wound. It leaves a bruise. It hurts. But I need it.
Let a righteous man strike me—it is a kindness.
Let me not refuse it.
February 4, 2011 by Tony Reinke
Categories: Newton
Rev. Joshua Symonds (1739–1788) was the pastor of a church in Bedford, England who suffered from frequent afflictions, temptations, and what we might call depression—“family cares and severe bodily affliction sometimes cast a gloom over his spirit and led him to take desponding views of himself” [1]. Symonds’s despondency and sense of personal worthlessness engrossed his life, which is made clear in the letters he exchanged with his friend John Newton.
Symonds was aware of his own depravity and spiritual barrenness. But the bigger problem in Symonds’s life was not in thinking too lowly of himself, but in thinking too lowly of the Savior. He was sliding into legalism. He was aware of his own sinfulness, but unable to appreciate the all-sufficiency of the Savior.
Writes Newton,
You say, you find it hard to believe it compatible with the divine purity to embrace or employ such a monster as yourself. You express not only a low opinion of yourself, which is right, but too low an opinion of the person, work, and promises of the Redeemer; which is certainly wrong.
And therein is the danger of understanding total depravity without understanding the sufficiency of the Savior.
Satan’s School of Humility
So what went wrong in his friend’s thinking?
According to Newton, Symonds had been duped in Satan’s “school of humility,” where humility is twisted and distorted into prideful self-loathing that pushes the Savior away.
Satan transforms himself into an angel of light. He sometimes offers to teach us humility; but though I wish to be humble, I desire not to learn in this school. His premises perhaps are true, that we are vile, wretched creatures—but he then draws abominable conclusions from them; and would teach us, that, therefore, we ought to question either the power, or the willingness, or the faithfulness of Christ.
Indeed, though our complaints are good, so far as they spring from a dislike of sin; yet, when we come to examine them closely, there is often so much self-will, self-righteousness, unbelief, pride, and impatience mingled with them, that they are little better than the worst evils we can complain of.
Tim Keller quotes and explains the significance of Newton's words in his forthcoming book King's Cross: The Story of the World in the Life of Jesus. Keller writes,
There are two ways to fail to let Jesus be your Savior. One is by being too proud, having a superiority complex—not to accept his challenge. But the other is through an inferiority complex—being so self-absorbed that you say, “I’m just so awful that God can’t love me.” That is, not to accept his offer.
And that is how Satan turns humility into false humility, false humility into despondency, and despondency into an inferiority complex that pushes away the gospel.
Looking Directly to Jesus
Newton was keenly aware that at the root of Symonds’s problems were his small thoughts about the Savior. Symonds was tempted to see himself as unworthy of the gospel, the very gospel that invites the most unworthy sinners.
Newton writes,
You have not, you cannot have, anything in the sight of God, but what you derive from the righteousness and atonement of Jesus. If you could keep him more constantly in view, you would be more comfortable. He would be more honored.…Let us pray that we may be enabled to follow the apostle’s, or rather the Lord’s command by him, Rejoice in the Lord always, and again I say, Rejoice [Philippians 4:4]. We have little to rejoice in ourselves, but we have right and reason to rejoice in him.
And in a later letter Newton writes,
The best evidence of faith is shutting our eyes equally upon our defects and our graces, and looking directly to Jesus as clothed with authority and power to save to the uttermost....Plead the Apostle’s argument (Romans 8:31–39) before the Lord and against Satan. [2]
We find no eternal hope within ourselves. Revisiting personal depravity is not the solution. Revisiting past periods of spiritual strength is not the solution. Prolonged introspection is not the solution. The solution is to look outside of ourselves, and to gaze again and again at the all-sufficient Savior who welcomes sinners, forgives sinners, and saves sinners to the uttermost (Hebrews 7:25).
In other words, Christ is powerful to save, he is faithful to save, and he is willing to save even the most “monstrous” of sinners.
Conclusion
Rev. Joshua Symonds died at the age of 49. His life was difficult, but in his last days he wrote that the Savior “filled him with a steady, constant peace, and sometimes with unutterable joy and transport” [3].
There can be little doubt that his joy-filled confidence in the Savior at the end of his life was deeply shaped by the caring wisdom that he read in the letters penned by his friend John Newton.
Tony Reinke serves as the editorial and research assistant to C.J. Mahaney. Reading Newton’s Mail is a series of blog posts reflecting on various published letters written by John Newton (1725–1807), the onetime captain of a slave trading ship—a self-described apostate, blasphemer, and infidel, who was eventually converted by grace. Newton is most famous for authoring the hymn “Amazing Grace,” or maybe for helping William Wilberforce put an end to the African slave trade in Britain. Less legendarily, Newton faithfully pastored two churches for 43 years, a fruitful period of his life when a majority of his letters were written. Reading Newton’s Mail is published on Fridays here on the Cheap Seats blog.
Primary source letter: John Newton, Works of John Newton (London: 1820), 6:185–187. Secondary sources: [1] Letters of John Newton (Edinburgh; Banner of Truth: 1869/2007), 167. [2] Letters, 173. [3] Letters, 168.
Years ago during a study on Proverbs, I was surprised to discover that maturing in wisdom is often the fruit of correction (see Proverbs 9:8, 19:25, 29:15). I can remember thinking, “Surely it’s possible to learn wisdom without any need for correction and criticism.”
Apparently not.
In his commentary on Proverbs, Derek Kidner writes that wisdom’s “frequent companion is correction” [1]. That phrase is now firmly fixed in my mind. If you ask for wisdom to hang around in your life, you will find that she doesn’t prefer to travel alone.
If we could mature in wisdom without any need for correction—and how I wish we could!—I would have discovered a way to do it by now and probably written a bestselling book explaining how. But that’s not how it works. We cannot separate growth in wisdom from criticism, correction, and reproof.
Eager for Correction
Since God often uses the criticism of others to reveal the idols of our hearts and to accelerate our growth in humility, pastors should be eager to receive criticism. I should be eager to receive correction, but usually I’m not. And it’s no mystery why I’m not eager to receive criticism—I’m a proud man.
Yet Proverbs teaches us that a wise man loves correction:
Do not reprove a scoffer, or he will hate you;
reprove a wise man, and he will love you. (Proverbs 9:8)
The scoffer will flat-out reject criticism and hate the one who brings it. On the other hand, the wise man will embrace the criticism and love the one who brings it. On this passage, commentator John Kitchen explains what it means to “love” reproof:
When confronted, exposed and judged by your rebuke, the wise man will “love” you. This may not necessarily speak of overflowing positive emotion, but has more to do with accepting, embracing and learning from the truth as you have presented it. Indeed, a rebuke will likely unsettle the emotions and make one uncomfortable in your presence, but the wise one will hear the truth and recognize in it the gift of life from God. [2]
Criticism can be a gift. Yet how a man responds to correction is one of the clearest distinctions in Proverbs between the fool and the wise man:
- A fool desperately needs correction, but refuses to pursue it or receive it.
- A wise man needs correction less than the fool, but he pursues it and welcomes it.
Pursuing and receiving correction is a means of attaining wisdom. The wise man knows this; the fool rejects this. This is what makes the wise man wise and the foolish man a fool. For the wise man, criticism holds potential, the potential for personal growth in humility and wisdom.
The Challenge
Here is what I am aware of: If I value wisdom, this will be evident in my pursuit of, and response to, correction. But I do not truly prize wisdom if I do not welcome criticism, pursue correction, and receive reproof.
Here is what’s easy:
- It is easy for me to desire wisdom.
- It is easy for me to profess a love for wisdom.
- It is easy for me to say, “I want to grow in wisdom.”
- It is easy for me to pray, “Lord, give me wisdom.”
But here is what’s difficult:
- It is difficult to respond humbly to criticism.
Here I need the sanctifying grace of God.
Having been humbled by the gospel, I want to humbly receive correction and even to pursue it.
I want to be the wise man, not the fool.
[1] Derek Kidner, Proverbs (IVP, 1981), 36. [2] John A. Kitchen, Proverbs (Christian Focus, 2006), 206.