Thomas the Public Speaker

On page 447 of Norman Thomas: The Last Idealist, which is a biography of six-time Socialist candidate for President Norman Thomas, W.A. Swanberg quotes New Republic editor Bruce Bliven's assessment in 1963 of Norman Thomas' public speaking abilities:

"He has spent his life trying with fabulous energy trying to persuade the world to be good by talking to it.  He is not a very skillful orator: his voice is loud and a little harsh; he speaks rapidly and extemporaneously; his thoughts are sometimes too complicated to be fully grasped at such speed.  Yet he is enormously popular with audiences, partly because he has a good sense of humor and does not take himself too seriously, partly because of his obvious, passionate sincerity, but chiefly, I think, because you get the sense that he is holding nothing back for political reasons, that he is doing his best to tell the truth as he sees it."

These are magnetic characteristics: not giving the audience a lot of bull, not taking oneself too seriously, being a person of conviction, etc.  I think that one can be a serious speaker and be effective, however.  I think of Jonathan Edwards.  Edwards, like Thomas, spoke with conviction the truth as he saw it.  But, unlike Thomas, Edwards did not manifest a sense of humor in his sermons, as far as I know.

Jonathan Edwards (and the Puritans) in High School

As my readers know, I finished George Marsden's excellent biography of Jonathan Edwards.  In this post, I'll talk about some of my experiences with Jonathan Edwards' works, particularly when I was in high school.

If my memory is correct, I first heard of Jonathan Edwards when I was in the eleventh grade.  We read Edwards' sermon, "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God".  The sermon itself did not make much of an impression on me, to tell you the truth.  I was from a denomination, Armstrongism, that did not believe in eternal torment in hell.  My family took that doctrine in a rather generous direction, probably more generous than the church itself intended the doctrine to be.  One of my relatives thought that no one in this life could be lost, since there was no solid evidence that one religion was superior to another, plus there was a lot of deception, and so how could God judge so many people for having the wrong religion?

Even though I did not take Edwards' fire and brimstone sermon seriously, I did enjoy my eleventh grade English class's unit on the Puritans.  Eleventh grade was when we learned about American literature, and the Puritans were unit one.  Or, actually, we started with Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter, which was set in the time of the Puritans, and immediately after that we launched our study of Puritan literature.  I could really identify with the Puritans, in a number of ways.  The eleventh grade was a time when my own faith was really deepening.  I read a lot of religious literature, even carrying my Bible to school.  I rested on the Sabbath and the annual holy days.  I took walks in nature as a way to get closer to God and to appreciate the beautiful world that God made.  Similarly, the Puritans read their Bibles.  The Puritans rested on a Sabbath----only their Sabbath was Sunday, whereas mine was Saturday.  And Jonathan Edwards enjoyed taking long walks in nature. 

I'm not sure where exactly I first learned about Jonathan Edwards' nature walks.  Perhaps it was in our textbook's introduction to "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God"----the part of the book that gave us background as to who Edwards was.  But I obviously learned about it sometime in high school, for I participated in an essay contest in high school on what some aspect of American history can teach us about protecting the environment.  I chose to write about Jonathan Edwards' appreciation of God's creation.

On a related note, when I was in the eleventh grade, I enjoyed other things by the Puritans that we read as well: Mary Rawlinson's story of being captured by Native Americans, and Anne Bradstreet's pious poetry.  As an adult, at the place where I am now religiously, I doubt that I would enjoy living in Puritan times----where people are evaluating where I am spiritually and are judging me negatively, where people get puffed up on account of their spiritual experiences, where having an alternative worldview is considered heresy, and where preachers use the fear of hell as a way to keep people in line.  I much prefer living in today's era.  And yet, I do feel rather nostalgic, warm, and cozy when I read about the Puritans, as I did when I recently went through George Marsden's biography of Jonathan Edwards.

Happy at Sinners Burning in Hell?

I finished George Marsden’s Jonathan Edwards: A Life.  In this post, I’ll talk about something that Marsden says on page 536:

“In one of his most controversial observations, Edwards argued that the saints in heaven would rejoice in knowing of the punishment of the wicked.  Although most people today instinctively find such views repelling, that may be largely because most people today do not take seriously the doctrine of hell as eternal punishment.  If one accepts that premise, then it is helpful in terms of understanding Edwards’ observations to be reminded that even today we rejoice when we see the Evil One and his minions destroyed in one of our moral tales.”

Isn’t that a lovely picture?  A bunch of smug Christians in heaven rejoicing that all those dirty sinners are burning in hell forever and ever.  What gives these saints the right to be so smug, when they themselves are sinners?  Plus, rejoicing in people burning in hell is not particularly loving, is it?  And while, yes, I may rejoice when I’m watching a movie and a truly evil person who oppresses others is destroyed, I don’t think Gandhi falls in that category.  Granted, he had his flaws and imperfections, like all of us, but why should I rejoice at him being burned forever and ever?

That said, I really did enjoy this book, and I thought it was deserving of the award that it got.  I appreciated its description of Edwards’ ambivalent relationship with his parents, since that tended to humanize him.  It’s easy to see Edwards as a stern authority figure behind the pulpit, but he was also a human being, one who struggled in his relationships with others.  I also identified with Edwards’ introversion.  In terms of whether I would have gotten along with him or not, I probably would have enjoyed an intellectual conversation with him, now and then.  But he’d he a little too dogmatic and intense for me to have a lasting friendship with him.

Edwards on the Historical-Critical Method; Worshiping One's Friend

I have two items for my write-up today on George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life.

1.  In my latest reading, Marsden went into Jonathan Edwards' views regarding the historical critical method of studying the Bible.  This was an issue that concerned Edwards, for he wrote at great length in his journals about the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch, defending the notion that Moses was the Pentateuch's author.  Edwards had problems with at least three aspects of the historical-critical method.  His first problem was that it assumed that only scholars of ancient history and languages could understand the Bible.  Edwards had doubts that God's revelation would be that abstruse, for it would have to be understandable by many generations in order to function as revelation, especially the generation that lived in the last days.  His second problem was that the historical-critical method treated the Bible like any other book.  Edwards held that the Bible was divinely-inspired and was thus deeper than other books.  Edwards' third problem was the rejection of miracles in prominent strands of the historical-critical method.  For Edwards, we should not reject the historicity of miracles if miracles are attested by sources whose authors were reasonable.  Moreover, Edwards notes that many of us accept the credibility of historical sources that discuss strange things that their authors did not fully understand, such as electricity.  For this last point, Edwards was also responding to thinkers such as Lessing, who believed that history was unreliable in terms of theology and that we should rely instead on a priori truths.

But there was another side to Edwards' approach.  Edwards believed in a learned clergy.  Edwards himself studied Hebrew and ancient history, and he made notes about these things when he was studying the Bible.  And Edwards somewhat acknowledged that history was not the most solid foundation for theology, for we don't necessarily know when histories were written.  Consequently, Edwards affirmed the importance of the inward illumination of the Holy Spirit, as God enlightened people about the beauties that are in the Scriptures.  I especially like what Marsden says on page 481 about Edwards' thoughts regarding the limits of scholarship: "If Christians had to wait until scholars answered all the objections to the truth of Scripture, 'miserable is the condition of the Houssatunnuck Indians, and others, who have lately manifested a desire to be instructed in Christianity; if they can come at no evidence of the truth of Christianity, sufficient to induce 'em to sell all for Christ, in no other way but this.'"

I'll take Edwards' insight in a different direction: If we have to wait for conservative Christian scholars to harmonize the contradictions in the Bible and show us that it is perfect and inerrant, notwithstanding its apparent bumps, then we are left with an imperfect Bible until that happens----and here I'm essentially equating the Bible with how we see the Bible according to our imperfect understanding.  They're not the same, I know, but my impression is that all we're left with when it comes to the Bible is our imperfect understanding, and so, even if the Bible is perfect in a way that we cannot immediately see, how does that help us exactly, when our understanding is imperfect?  Christians will say that we're not left to our own devices, for we have the Holy Spirit to guide us.  But, if that is the case, why do Christians arrive at different interpretations of the Bible?

2.  Marsden narrates the death of Jonathan Edwards, his wife, and his daughter Esther----who, by the way, was the mother of Aaron Burr, the Vice-President under Thomas Jefferson who shot Alexander Hamilton.  Esther actually portrays little Aaron as a brat in one of her writings.  Edwards, his wife, and Esther died at young ages according to today's standards----Edwards died in his fifties.  Edwards' parents, by contrast, lived to ripe old ages, even according to the standards of today.  Marsden wonders what would have happened had Jonathan Edwards lived longer.  How would he have felt about the Revolutionary War?  And how would he have influenced some of the people who became America's Founding Fathers----if Edwards had lived longer, he would probably have been the President of Princeton when James Madison was attending it.

When Esther died, her friend Sarah Prince was distraught.  Sarah also felt guilty because she thought that she loved Esther more than God.  Esther was a comfort to Sarah, and Sarah admired Esther for her kindness to everyone she met.  She would miss Esther intensely.

Within evangelical Christianity, I've long been told that I should not idolize people, for people will let me down, whereas God will not.  In a number of cases, that's probably true.  But Sarah Prince did not feel that way about Esther Edwards.  Is there a way to honor the friends who have been good to us, without resorting to idolatry?  Perhaps we can incorporate our appreciation for their love into our appreciation of God's love, seeing their love as a reflection of what God is like.

Is It Their Fault?

For my write-up today on George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life, I'll talk about Marsden's summary on page 442 of Edwards' views regarding moral responsibility.

Later in his life, Jonathan Edwards wrote works that were defending Calvinism, in a world that was becoming increasingly hostile towards it.  There were authors in that period who were criticizing the doctrine that human beings were born with a morally corrupt nature and desperately needed God's grace in order to become truly righteous.  These authors also combated the notions that humans had inherited this corrupt nature and guilt from Adam, and that God chose only some people to be saved and was perfectly just to condemn the rest of humanity to hell.  According to these authors, God gave all humans the natural capacity to be virtuous and to respond to God, which (if I'm not mistaken) may imply that a new birth was not necessary, for people got all that they needed for righteousness at their first birth.

A question that these authors asked was this: How can God condemn people for doing things that they cannot help?  If a person is born with a sinful nature, is it his fault if he sins?  If a person is cold to the things of God because God has not shed on her God's grace, is God justified to condemn her for that?  According to these authors, we are only morally responsible for what we can help.  If we have no real choice to do good, how can God condemn us for that?

Edwards had a variety of responses to that: that we still do what we choose, even if there may be causes for our choices that are outside of our control; that the Bible teaches that we are guilty on account of original sin and need a new birth; etc.  But I'd like to quote something that Marsden said on page 442:

"One can think of many instances, said Edwards, where people's moral character make them unable to choose other than they do: '...A child of great duty and love to his parents, may be unable to be willing to kill his father.  A very lascivious man, in case of certain opportunities and temptations...may be unable to forbear gratifying his lust...A very malicious man may be unable to exert benevolent acts to an enemy, or to desire his prosperity: yea, some may be so under the power of a vile disposition, that they may be unable to love those who are most worthy of their esteem and affection.'  Now, said Edwards, what indeed does common sense tell us about praise and blame in such cases?  Clearly, we praise the virtuous woman whose character made her unable even to think of prostituting herself more highly than the woman who chose correctly but could hardly make up her mind.  Or common sense does not excuse a man of a very haughty and vicious disposition because of his character...In fact[,] common sense rightly assigns virtue or vice to a virtuous or vicious character as well as to the acts that inevitably arise from that character.  The theological counterpart was that God and Jesus were praiseworthy even though their characters were such that they could only do what was best."

I think there's something to what Edwards is saying: If a person is being a jerk towards me, I don't excuse that person in my mind just because he has a jerk-ish disposition and is merely acting according to his character.  At the same time, I do try to have compassion towards him because this disposition may be weighing him down, and he may find it difficult to act otherwise, due to a traumatic past, or temperament, or perhaps clinical depression.  In my opinion, the latter approach, not judgmentalism, is the right mindset for me to have.

But do I believe that people cannot help what they do?  I live in the world of psychology, therapy, and medication, so I am rather optimistic that people can get help to correct wrong behaviors and to pursue more healthy mindsets.  I think that people should be held responsible for their actions, for there are actions that are destructive to other people and to society, and society would be remiss to let that slide.  But I maintain that rehabilitation and treatment, not just punishment, are important.  And, if religion can assist in this, I'm all for it, whether or not I totally agree with its doctrines.

Odds and Ends about Edwards, and the Beatrix Potter Movie

There were a variety of topics in my latest reading of George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life: Edwards' power struggles with the Williams at Stockbridge, as Edwards justified his stubbornness on religious grounds; the wars between the English in America, on the one hand, and the French and Native Americans, on the other hand, as Native Americans felt that the English were trying to displace them; how some regarded the wars as God's judgment on the English, whereas Edwards had a more optimistic outlook (even though he viewed setbacks as God's judgment, and was somewhat sensitive to the concerns of Native Americans); how Edwards' daughter Esther was a contemplative woman who did not care for talking about dresses and fashion with other women (ironically, I was reading this while watching the movie Miss Potter, which presented author Beatrix Potter as somewhat similar); and how Princeton wanted Edwards to be its President, but Edwards was reluctant because he didn't feel he had the social skills for that position, plus he wanted to focus on his writing projects.  But Edwards became its President.  It was good that Edwards was actually wanted somewhere, considering the times when he was intensely disliked (i.e., at Northampton).

There was a time when Edwards visited Philadelphia, and Marsden speculates that Edwards may have visited Benjamin Franklin at that time, though there is no evidence that such a meeting took place.  If it had, Marsden says, they could have talked about Edwards' works, which Franklin had read, as well as their mutual acquaintance with evangelist George Whitfield.

Edwards at the Stockbridge Mission

In my latest reading of George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life, Jonathan Edwards is serving in Stockbridge, a village that had both English people and Native Americans.  Edwards saw this community as anticipatory of the millennium (the thousand year reign of Christ in Revelation 20), "when every tribe and nation would see the light of God's righteousness and dwell together in harmony (cf. Isaiah 60)" (page 375).

There were three things that stood out to me in my latest reading.  First, although Edwards had problems with some of his co-workers at Stockbridge----viewing them as un-orthodox, or as misusing the mission's funds----that did not bother him a great deal because it was a step up from his experience at Northampton, where he had been criticized, booted out of the pastorate, and ostracized.  Jonathan Edwards is not the only person who appreciates imperfect but better experiences after enduring a particularly bad experience.  I think of people who had a bad first marriage but went on to have a good second marriage, or who had bad jobs and went on to jobs where the environment was not perfect, but better.

Second, one of Edwards' relatives, Abigail Williams, worked at the mission at Stockbridge, and she initially was not looking forward to Edwards coming to work there.  But she became impressed with him, calling him "learned, polite, and free in conversation, and more catholic than [she] had supposed" (Abigail's words on page 380).  Marsden states that "Abigail may have enjoyed anyone who could intelligently converse on deeper issues" (page 380).  But Edwards may not have been as broad-minded as she thought, for he had doubts about Abigail's orthodoxy.  In any case, I could identify with this story in my latest reading because there are people with whom I may disagree on politics or religion, and yet I respect them and enjoy interacting with their thoughts (and maybe even them) for a variety of reasons: they are knowledgeable, they have profound insights, they know how to share their opinions without putting people down, etc.

Third, on page 393, Marsden talks about Edwards' preaching to the Native Americans.  According to Marsden, while Edwards continued to preach about sin and God's judgment to the Native Americans, he emphasized God's mercy much more.  Marsden states that Edwards initially emphasized their sins and vices, but he moved away from that in the course of his preaching.  Marsden speculates that Edwards may have been influenced here by David Brainerd, a friend of Edwards and a missionary to the Native Americans, as well as the topic of a bestselling spiritual biography that Edwards wrote after Brainerd's tragic death.  Brainerd observed that, when he was preaching to the Native Americans, their hearts were pierced more when he spoke of Christ's compassion, without speaking a word of terror.

Northampton Church Gives Edwards the Boot

My latest reading of George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life was about Jonathan Edwards getting kicked out of the pastorate at his church in Northampton.  Edwards had pursued a controversial policy of requiring people to demonstrate that they had a heartfelt faith before they could take the sacraments----and even before their infants could be entitled to receive baptism under the covenant.

Edwards was pursuing a middle path between two policies.  First, there was the policy of Solomon Stoddard----his grandfather and his revered predecessor at the Northampton church.  Stoddard held that people could take the sacraments even if they had not experienced grace, since the sacraments could be a means that God could use to draw them to himself.  Stoddard still maintained that they had to demonstrate some morality or commitment to Christian doctrine to be church members and partakers of the sacraments, but he wasn't in favor of requiring them to jump through a bunch of hoops before they could do so.  Second, there was the policy of Edwards' father Timothy, who had rigorous standards for judging whether or not people had truly experienced grace.  Overall, Jonathan Edwards recognized that people were limited when it came to judging the salvation of others, and so he advised against doing so.  And yet, Edwards believed that something was wrong when people were not living according to the vows that they took during the Great Awakening, or when people who claimed to be saved were displaying attitudes of envy and rivalry, as were a number of people in the Northampton church.  Edwards also did not want for the sacred sacraments to be given to those who were not committed to Jesus Christ, for that (in his eyes) dishonored God.  Edwards supported a policy that was stricter than Stoddard's, but not as strict as his father's.

There was overwhelming opposition to Edwards.  On page 360, Marsden said that only 23 out of the 230 male members of the church voted with Edwards.  After Edwards was kicked out of the pastorate, the townspeople voted not to allow Edwards and his family "to use the pastureland that was usually granted to him" (page 363), which hit Edwards particularly hard because he was worried about the finances of his family, which had a lot of children.  Edwards continued to attend the Northampton church, and he was often asked to preach because the church needed someone to preach after Edwards had been removed from the pastorate.  But it got to the point where Edwards was no longer asked to preach----when many people preferred nobody in the pulpit to Edwards.

There was a variety of factors behind the opposition to Edwards.  There was a feeling that Edwards was on a power-trip and tended to make mountains out of molehills, and that he was trying to determine people's right to partake of the sacraments according to his subjective standards.  There was reverence for Solomon Stoddard, even after his passing, and so many did not care for Edwards' attempt to reverse Stoddard's policy.  Edwards' social aloofness did not help him much, either, as Edwards himself acknowledged.  Some have argued that the revolutionary atmosphere that eventually led to the American Revolution could have played some role in Edwards' ousting, but, as Marsden notes, there were supporters and opponents of Edwards who later fought for American independence.

After Edwards was kicked out of the pastorate, he delivered a sermon about God's judgment.  It had some impact on people, but it apparently did not dissuade them from their course of action.  I think that the town should have been more compassionate to Edwards, in terms of his finances, but I do relish the times when congregations are immune to pastors' fear-mongering.

Edwards the Millennial Optimist!

I wrote a couple of posts ago about Jonathan Edwards' beliefs regarding the millennium, the thousand year reign of Christ mentioned in Revelation 20.  In my latest reading of George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life, I learned more about this topic.  Marsden refers to a work by Edwards entitled An Humble Attempt that addresses the millennium.  Marsden discusses Edwards' beliefs regarding the millennium on pages 335-336.

According to Marsden, Edwards thought that the millennium would be a time in which there would be a massive population explosion of redeemed people.  The population explosion would be due to people's health and harmony with nature and with each other, which mean that they'll live a long time and have lots of babies.  And "Virtually everyone in the millennium would be regenerate" (Marsden's words on page 335), for the millennium would be a time when Christ would draw all people unto himself, in accordance with John 12:32.  Because there would be such a population explosion of redeemed people, the saved would vastly outnumber the lost.  Edwards' ally, Joseph Bellamy, estimated that "the ratio of saved to lost would be more than 17,000 to 1" (Marsden's words on page 336).

This reminds me of a conversation that I had over a year ago with a Christian Reconstructionist, who was also a Calvinist.  This guy, unlike Edwards, was not a premillennialist, but he was postmillennial.  Whereas Edwards believed that Christ would come back and then establish a paradisaical millennium, this guy maintained that the church would convert masses of people and establish a Christian society, and then Christ would come back.  When I was complaining to him that Calvinism held that most of humanity was burning in hell, which (in my mind) did not portray God as particularly loving, his response was that he believed that there would be vastly more people in heaven than in hell.  His reason?  Because the church would convert a lot of people between now and the time that Christ comes back (which, in his eyes, would be a long time).  The guy then told me that he's an optimist!

This is interesting.  I don't think that it eliminates the problem of hell, since there are so many people burning there according to prominent strands of Christianity, but I found what this guy and Edwards said to be interesting.

But I still have nagging questions about Edwards' belief regarding the millennium.  Where do the people who live on earth during the millennium come from?  We have those who worship the Beast, which is everyone whose name is not written in the Lamb's Book of Life.  We have the resurrected saints, who rule with Christ during the thousand years.  Then there is the rest of the dead, which is not resurrected until after the millennium.  And then we have a bunch of people who come to Christ during the time of the millennium (I'm presuming), and they reproduce.  Who are these people?  I'm assuming that they're not the resurrected saints, for I doubt that the resurrected saints will be engaging in sexuality, or marrying (Mark 12:25).  So who are they?  Are they people who once worshiped the Beast?  Are they people who converted in the Great Awakening soon before the Second Coming of Christ?

Edwards, the Great Awakening, and Church Discipline

My latest reading of George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life concerned Edwards' dispute with Charles Chauncy about the Great Awakening, as well as Edwards' attempts to exercise church discipline over some men who were behaving inappropriately.

Edwards was a big fan of the Great Awakening because he viewed it as a great work of God.  Numerous people were becoming passionate about spiritual things, and they were turning their lives over to Christ.  Prayers were being answered.  During one period of time in which a revival was taking place, no one got sick.

And yet, according to some, the Great Awakening had downsides.  People were becoming proud on account of their visions.  People were challenging their spiritual authorities, accusing them of not being spiritual enough.  There was a feeling that anyone (including women, gasp!) could preach.  A growing interest in religion brought one depressed man to suicide, as he obsessed about hell and despaired that God would save him.  And, in the eyes of Charles Chauncy, there was an emphasis on emotionalism at the expense of rationality, and Chauncy did not see anything holy about exciting base passions.

Edwards shared a number of these concerns, for he supported humility and respect for authority.  Edwards wrote a book, Religious Affections, that argued that what was truly important was a changed life, not visions.  But Edwards differed from Chauncy in that Edwards believed that the Great Awakening truly was a work of God that was bringing about conversions, that its problems were marginal, and that the affections were an important aspect of spirituality----that God touched people's emotions.  How could Edwards think this, when he himself was quite reserved----he was the type you would expect not to support hysterical outbursts of emotion?  Moreover, as Chauncy himself pointed out, Edwards extensively drew from philosophy and rationality.  Why would this guy support the Great Awakening?

I think that the answer is that Edwards himself valued a deep emotional connection with God, and he had this at times when he took his solitary trips into nature.  His initial experience of this, for him, helped to seal his conversion.  Edwards still recognized that he was not the most joyful and demonstrative person in the world, which was why he admired his wife.  But he still valued the emotional aspect of religion, and, of course, he thought that Christians should be excited by a movement that entailed so many people converting to Christ, whatever the movement's flaws.

On church discipline, essentially, there were people who were making sexual jokes and were sexually harassing young women, plus they disdained authority.  Edwards sought to hold them accountable publicly.  He was criticized for this because many believed that he was making a mountain out of a molehill, and also that he should have confronted them privately at first, in accordance with Matthew 18.  But Edwards' response was that these men were having a pernicious influence on the public level, and so he had to deal with them publicly.

Edwards' Personality and Beliefs about Slavery and the Millennium

I have two items for my write-up today on George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life.

1.  On page 255, Marsden says the following about people's reactions to Jonathan Edwards' personality:
""While opponents found [Edwards'] scrupulousness cold and lacking in charity, those in Edwards' own party saw it as admirable integrity.  The arguments that Edwards used in his attempts to demolish opponents' positions might be seen as arrogant sophistry or as brilliant clarity.  The passion in his sermonic rhetoric might be seen as ruthless manipulation or as warm, loving spirituality.  His reserve in conversation about personalities might be seen as cold disregard of others or as self-renouncing discipline.  His single-minded dedication to his work could be seen as self-centered lack of sociability or as selfless dedication to serve God and neighbor with all his heart, soul, strength, and mind."

The lesson here, for me, is that there will be people who will put a negative spin on anything you do, however well-intentioned you are.  But there may also be people who will put a positive spin on anything you do!  I try to disregard the former.  Regarding the latter, sometimes I scream on the inside that I'm not perfect, and so not everything I do deserves a positive spin.  But I do appreciate it when people give me a pat on the back for trying my best.

2.  Marsden discusses Edwards' stance on slavery.  Essentially, Edwards had slaves and thought that slavery was biblically permissible.  But Edwards also regarded the African slave trade as wrong, for he did not believe that Europeans had a right "to steal from the Africans" (Marsden's words on page 257), since all were neighbors.  And yet, Edwards spoke against criticisms of a certain clergyman for his ownership of slaves, arguing that New England itself benefited from slavery on account of its trade with "the slave economies of the Caribbean" (Marsden's words on page 258).  Edwards was asking the critics of the clergyman: So it's wrong to own slaves, but it's all right to benefit from slavery?  But did Edwards believe that the logical moral step was to stop benefiting from slavery?  No.  In effect, according to Marsden, Edwards was saying that we live in a sinful world and thus it's impossible not to benefit from other people's evil, and so, "until the millennial conversions got to the heart of the problem, one should simply make the best of imperfect social arrangements" (Marsden on page 258).  I should note, though, that Jonathan Edwards, Jr. was a vocal critic of slavery.

I'd like to mention something that Edwards says about the millennial reign of Christ, which pertains to Edwards view of Africans and Native Americans.  Edwards thought that African and Native American cultures were inferior to the culture of Christendom, and he held that they had lived for years under the rule of Satan; yet, he did not believe that Africans and Native Americans were inherently inferior to whites, for God made everyone with the same nature.  Edwards even envisioned that Africans and Native Americans would contribute to civilization during the millennial rule of Jesus Christ.  Edwards said: "It may be hoped that then many of the Negroes and Indians will be divines, and that excellent books will be published in Africa, in Ethiopia, in Turkey----and not only very learned men, but others that are more ordinary men, shall then be very knowing in religion."  Here is the sermon where Edwards said this.

The millennium is a topic of interest to me, since one of my relatives believes that the millennium will be a time when people who did not have a real chance to know Christ in this life will have that chance to be saved.  He associates this with the second resurrection in Revelation 20.  Charles Taze Russell, whose movement led to the Jehovah's Witnesses, wrote a book in which he argued that the millennium would be a time when people who died without knowing Christ would get a chance to know him.  But does not Revelation 20 say that the second resurrection will occur after the millennium, which precludes the millennium from being a time when people from the second resurrection will learn about God and God's ways?  I don't have a clear idea about how my relative would answer that question, but Russell addressed it by essentially arguing that Revelation 20 should not be interpreted literally on this point.  After all, Russell points out, John 5:29 appears to present the resurrection of the good and the bad as occurring simultaneously, rather than being separated by a thousand years.

But there are prophetic texts that treat the earthly reign of the Davidic king as a time when people would learn about God.  One way that Christians have handled those texts is to say that they are fulfilled through the church----as Gentiles become a part of the people of God.  And, in my opinion, that view has validity, for there are times when the New Testament appears to apply texts in the prophets that concern the future inclusion of the Gentiles in the worship of God to the work that God is doing through the church (Acts  15:16-17; Romans 15:12).  But another way that Christians handle these texts has been to apply them to the earthly reign of Christ during the millennium.  My relative has this view.  So did Charles Taze Russell.  And so, apparently, did Jonathan Edwards.

But my question is this: If these texts apply to the millennial reign of Christ, where exactly did the people who are learning about God during the millennium come from?  In the Book of Revelation, there appear to be two groups of people: those who are saved, and those who have the Mark of the Beast (Revelation 13:8).  Will the people who are learning about Christ during the millennial reign include people who had the Mark of the Beast, or people who were saved but did not have the time before Christ's Second Coming to grow in that salvation?  My relative and Russell would say that the people learning about Christ during the millennium are people who have been resurrected----they died without knowing Christ.  But I doubt that Edwards believed that.  Where did he believe that the people learning about God during the millennium would come from?  Did he hold that not everyone who would take the Mark of the Beast would be thrown into hell but would receive a second chance?  And, come to think of it, did he even think that the Africans and Native Americans had the Mark of the Beast?  Edwards believed that the Beast was the pope, and most Africans and Native Americans were not Catholic.

Intense, Anti-Establishment, Funeral, Ecstasy, and Quietness

There were a variety of interesting things in my latest reading of George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life.

----Marsden talks about Edwards' famous sermon, "Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God".  Marsden discusses the subject matter of the sermon, which is that our sins weigh us down and cause us to slide towards hell, yet God upholds us, even as God is angry at us for our sins.  According to Marsden, Edwards did not even get to finish his message because of the hysterical spiritual responses of the congregation towards it.  Marsden also talks some more about why Edwards was a powerful preacher: Although Edwards relied somewhat on a manuscript and was not as flashy as his father (who also was a minister), there was a solemnity and an intensity to his delivery.

----At Yale, there was a revival among students.  There were the usual hysterical features of the revival that turned some people off, plus the students were questioning the spirituality of their superiors.  Edwards spoke against the students challenging their superiors, and he acknowledged that the revivals in New England contained a mixture of the works of God and the works of Satan.  But, ultimately, he exhorted the Yale authorities not to look down on the revival, for doing so might be blaspheming the Holy Spirit.

----When a prominent Christian minister died, Edwards at the funeral departed from his usual funeral practice----of leading the people in his audience to think about the condition of their souls and how they will spend eternity.  Rather, drawing from the Gospel story of the death of John the Baptist and how that distressed John's disciples, Edwards exhorted the congregation to go to Jesus for comfort when they are distressed.

----Jonathan Edwards' wife Sarah was having fits of spiritual ecstasy, yet that did not take her away from her responsibilities as a wife and mother (as they were defined in those days).  Edwards wrote about her ecstasy while keeping her anonymous in his writing, and one could tell that he admired and respected his wife, as he presented her as a paragon of spirituality.  During her ecstasy, she did not struggle with her usual problem of depression, and she began to support ministers who were involved in revival rather than envying them as rivals to her husband.  There were some pretty grisly things in her writings, though, as when she remarked that, even if Jonathan were to whip her, that would not disturb her spiritual peace (which is not to suggest that he did whip her).  Later, Sarah was diagnosed as having hysteria, but Marsden says it's not clear that this was a reference to her spiritual ecstasy.

----Samuel Hopkins was a senior at Yale, and he was concerned about his spiritual condition.  In a setting of revivalism and Jonathan Edwards' insistence that true Christians are those whose affections have been touched, Hopkins questioned that he was affectionate enough towards Christ, since he was the quiet, studious type.  But he went to stay with the Edwards, and Sarah encouraged him that she was praying for him.  Hopkins wrote about Jonathan Edwards, and he discussed Edwards' social mannerisms.  According to Hopkins, Edwards came across as "stiff and unsociable" (Hopkins' words) to those who did not really know him.  But Hopkins says that Edwards was rather quiet because he did not want to speak evil of others, he wanted to speak only when he had something to say, he preferred to write rather than dispute with his vocal cords, and he did not have the physical strength (in terms of his lungs and "animal spirits") to be engaging in every social situation.  But, to those with whom he was close, Hopkins says, Edwards was kind, and he was willing to be challenged by intimates.

I could identify with a lot of this.  I tend to be quiet in social situations.  The downside, of course, is that I don't stand out to people, and so they forget about me.  But Edwards may not have had that problem, since his family was well-connected, and he had an opportunity to express himself to people through his sermons and writings.

A Powerful Sermon Series

For my write-up today on George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life, I'll use as my starting-point something that Marsden says on page 195, as he talks about a long sermon series that Jonathan Edwards gave about the history of redemption, which went through the Old Testament, the New Testament, church history (i.e., Constantine, the Reformation, etc.), the Second Coming of Christ, and the Last Judgment:

"Although Edwards' series was long and much of it retellings of familiar biblical stories, he was able to sustain a theme and the cumulative impact could be compelling.  One Northamptonite, Nehemiah Strong, who was only ten and a half at the time of the sermons, recalled the series as a great event in his life.  Strong, who became a professor of mathematics and natural philosophy at Yale, reportedly told Edwards' grandson Timothy Dwight how as the sermon series proceeded he became 'more and more engaged.'  At last when Edwards depicted Christ's second coming, the boy's 'mind was wrought up to such a pitch that he expected without one thought to the contrary the awful scene to be unfolded on that day and in that place...'"

I should say a few words about Edwards' sermon series before I address the question of why it was so powerful.  First of all, Edwards' series centered on Christ, as it maintained that there were things in the Hebrew Bible that were types of Christ or Christ's redemption.  Second, there was an optimism to Edwards' series that contrasted with Augustine's more pessimistic depiction of tension between the City of God and the cities of the world.  Edwards believed that history was "marked by increasing revivals and culminat[ed] in the millennium", and that God worked through "national religious wars and revolutions [to] facilitate the preaching of the Gospel" (page 197).  I seriously doubt that Jonathan Edwards was a post-millennialist, one who believed that, over a long period of time, many people throughout the world would become Christian and set up a Christian society before Christ came, for Edwards held that the world was on a timetable (according to numbers in the Book of Daniel) and that there was a Beast, namely, the papacy.  My impression is that Edwards was probably a premillennialist, but there was some optimism in his premillennialism when it came to the events preceding the Second Coming of Christ.  I think of the times when I listened to some of my relatives discuss biblical eschatology, and they said that the two witnesses of the Book of Revelation would pick up a lot of converts in the United States.  Granted, things would get bad before the end, and yet God would have some triumphs before the Second Advent.

Why was Edwards' series powerful?  Was it because of Edwards' delivery?  Marsden talks some about Edwards' style of delivery on page 206, as he contrasts it with that of George Whitefield (and Marsden talks at length about Edwards' relationship with Whitefield, as well as Whitefield's friendship with Benjamin Franklin, who differed significantly from Whitefield when it came to theology).  Whitefield did not use notes when he was preaching, his voice was loud and could extend a great distance, he was emotional and wept, and he tried to portray "the feelings of biblical characters or lost sinners" (page 206).  Edwards, however, used notes and was not extemporaneous in his delivery (though Marsden says earlier in the book that Edwards over the years came to rely less on his notes), depicted "powerful images...but...seldom sustained them", rarely "referred to himself or his own experiences", and held audiences spellbound with his "personal intensity" yet had a "weak voice" (page 206).  But Marsden does state that the "power of [Edwards'] preaching came from his relentless systematic delineations of all the implications of his theme" (page 206).

Edwards was powerful in terms of the content of his messages.  There are some preachers who can beat a biblical text to the ground as they seek to exhaust its meaning, and they end up boring their audience, perhaps because it feels that the preachers are stating the obvious.  But there are other preachers who can plummet the depths of the Scriptures and leave their audience feeling satisfied or fed, or with the impression that they learned something.  Edwards was most likely an example of the latter kind of preacher.

I'd like to suggest another reason that Edwards' series about the history of redemption was powerful, especially to ten-year old Nehemiah Strong: it told a story.  A lot of children, and even many adults, love stories.  I remember a pastor's son telling his father that he should preach more about the stories in the Bible----such as that of Joseph----since kids enjoy that, as opposed to delivering an abstract discussion about the Second Coming of Christ.

When I read about Nehemiah Strong's reaction to Edwards' series, I wondered if there was ever a sermon series that was a great event in my life.  I'll admit that I have heard some good sermon series----Ron Dart's series on history and prophecy, Dart's series on the epistles of Paul (see here for both Dart series, but I can't vouch for the website, for I don't know much about it), David Antion's series on Job, Antion's series on Galatians, etc.  One series that I'll bet is really good is Malcolm Smith's series on the blood covenant.  I only heard the first and the last of that series----at church when I was a child----but someone told me that the middle part goes into the blood covenant throughout the Bible.  What I heard was quite powerful.  I wouldn't call listening to these series life-changing, but they were enjoyable----cozy, if you will, since there was a story-telling quality to them.

By the way, if you ever want to read Edwards' series on the history of redemption----and I may do that someday----click here.

An Ulterior Motive for Devotion?

In my latest reading of Jonathan Edwards: A Life, George Marsden talks quite a bit about a revival that took place in Jonathan Edwards' time (and Jonathan Edwards' account of that revival caught the attention of John Wesley, who, unlike Edwards, was an Arminian).  On page 152, Marsden speculates about how Edwards would have responded to those who posited a social reason for the revival:

"Had some of the specific social contributors to the awakening been pointed out to Edwards, such as the extension of unmarried dependence for many of the young, he would have acknowledged them without placing any strain on his theological explanation of the awakening.  God always worked through means.  Whether he sent an earthquake or a shortage of available land, God was still acting to remind humans of their spiritual needs.  Through such forces God provided the soil for revival."

In Edwards' time, young people were in some predicaments.  Because there were socio-economic changes, such as the movement from a communal economy to a capitalistic one (and, to be honest, I don't know exactly what that entailed), young people had difficulty striking out on their own, and so people in their twenties were living with their parents.  Many young people also had difficulty postponing sexual activity until they were married, and so they felt guilty when they violated that standard.  And Edwards was concerned about young people wasting their lives through partying and empty socializing (and, believe it or not, a number of young people actually valued Edwards' opinion).

Analysts can probably look at these insecurities among young people and attribute their participation in a religious revival to that.  But, if there is a secular explanation for the revival, does that mean that the revival was not a work of God?  According to Marsden, Edwards would say no, and the reason is that Edwards thought that God used means to remind people that they needed him, and that provided soil for revival.  In short, God could use the predicaments of young people to bring them closer to God.

When I was in high school, I was perplexed by a question: Was I devout because I truly loved God, or was I devout to compensate for my lack of a social life?  I wasn't a popular person (though, looking back, more people probably liked me back then than like me now), and I withdrew into devotional and religious reading, where I found a degree of peace.  But did that devotion count before God, I wondered, since I probably would not be as devout if I were popular and everybody liked me?

If I could go back and talk with my younger self, I could tell him (a la Edwards) that God is using his unpopularity as a means to make him recognize his dependence on God, but what would happen if he became popular (which didn't happen, but let's pretend)?  What would then keep him from feeling that he didn't need God?  In light of that, what I would want to highlight to my younger self is that God is his friend, and that's true whether he is popular or unpopular.  If he is unpopular, he can spend time with God because God is his friend.  If he is popular, he can still spend time with God because God is his friend----and, even if he has other friends, God is the friend who sticks closer than a brother.  In my opinion, God is not grading me about my motivation for my devotion, for God's happy to spend time with me!

Did Jonathan Edwards Have Asperger's?

In my latest reading of George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life, I wondered if Jonathan Edwards had Asperger's Syndrome.  Marsden does not speculate about this issue, but, as a person with Asperger's who has read some about the condition, I could identify with Edwards as Marsden was describing him.

Edwards essentially studied all day.  A lot of this took place in his personal study, but he also took solitary walks in nature.  And he was rather eccentric: whenever he had a thought while he was on one of his nature walks, he would pin a piece of paper to a specific part of his clothes, and he would associate that with his thought.  Then, when he got home, he would write the thought down.  In some cases, his clothes would be covered with a lot of these small pieces of paper.  Marsden wryly states that, for Edwards, "Fashionable appearance apparently was not a high priority" (page 136).

According to Marsden, Edwards did not make a lot of pastoral calls, for he was not adept at small talk and often was not in the mood to socialize, plus he wanted to devote more time to his studying and writing.  Edwards did, however, talk with parishioners in his study if they needed counsel.  Edwards also did not like to be distracted with the details of running his estate, and he left that job to his wife and servants.

Edwards was still able to make contacts, however.  Some of that appears to be because he had prominent relatives.  Edwards also impressed people, as when he gave a sermon defending human dependence on God against Arminianism (the view that people contribute something to their own salvation), which got some people's attention and was published.  And Edwards could find common cause with notable people who, like Edwards, sought to defend Calvinism in a logical manner.

Maybe Edwards had Asperger's.  Maybe he was simply an introvert, and one should remember that not all introverts have Asperger's.  But I could still identify with Edwards.  I myself would love to have a job where I am paid to study all day.  I am not good at small talk, and there are many times when I'm not in the mood to socialize (though socializing can be fun).  I don't like to be distracted by the details of everyday life----if I had a wife, I would probably let her handle the finances.  I used to enjoy taking long walks in solitude.  I try not to be unfashionable in how I dress, but fashion is not something I obsess over.  And, while I struggle to make contacts----even with people who share interests with me----it's a little easier for me to form contacts with people when I can find a common cause or interest with them (but that may be true of everyone).

What's interesting is that Edwards, in his solitude and introversion, could arrive at nuggets of wisdom that he could share with his congregation.  For example, Edwards preached a sermon about how God's people in the Bible often go through hard times before God delivers them, and, according to Edwards, that was to teach them to depend on God.  Have I, in my introversion, arrived at nuggets of wisdom?  Well, yes and no.  I feel that I can gain wisdom through interaction with people----wisdom about the things that I can do and say to make contacts, to get a job, to keep a job, etc.  But there is also something to be said for thinking deeply in solitude.

Edwards: Heaven as a Place of Growth

For my write-up today on George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life, I'll use as my starting point something that Marsden says on page 109:

"In one notable entry, [Jonathan Edwards] again placed his longing for Sarah in its larger spiritual context: 'Happiness.  How soon do earthly lovers come to an end of their discoveries of each other's beauty; how soon do they see all that is to be seen!...How soon do they come to the most endearing expressions of love that 'tis possible to give, so that no new ways can be invented[,] given or received.'  Once again, he contrasted the easily reached limits of human love with the infinitely progressing heavenly love between Christ and the saints: 'And how happy is that love, in which there is an eternal progress in all these things; wherein new beauties are continually discovered, and more and more loveliness, and in which we shall forever increase in beauty ourselves; where we shall be made capable of finding out and giving, and shall receive, more and more endearing expressions of love forever: our union will become more close, and communion more intimate.'"

For Edwards, heaven will not be a boring place, for we will grow in our love for Christ, as we gain more and more insight into Christ's character and become increasingly beautiful ourselves.
This brings several things to my mind.

First, this somewhat contradicts something that I heard about Jonathan Edwards in a class that I took years ago.  We were discussing Edwards' sermon, Heaven, A World of Love, and my professor (if I recall correctly) thought that Edwards was presenting heaven as a static place, whereas he preferred to conceive of heaven as a place where people grow and mature in love.  But the passage from Edwards that Marsden highlights appears to present heaven as a dynamic place.

Second, a problem that I have long had with I Corinthians 13 is its claim that knowledge will pass away----since there will come a time when we will no longer look through a glass darkly but will know God as God knows us----and yet love will remain forever.  I appreciate the point that the chapter is trying to make----that we should not feel superior on account of our knowledge or use our knowledge as a way to put people down, but we should be humble, meek, and loving.  But I would never like to get to the point where I am no longer growing in knowledge.  That's what makes life exciting: learning new things.  And, as one gets older in this life, one realizes that there is only so much that one can learn in a limited lifespan.  But, according to Edwards, heaven is a place where we will continually learn about Christ.  And that growth in knowledge is not contrary to love, but actually encourages it.

Third, in my younger years, one problem that I had with the Bible and Christianity is that I became bored with them.  I thought that I already knew all of the doctrines that there are to know, and I wanted to hear something new.  In my later years (if you want to count my 30's as "later"), I realize that there is much that I don't know.  There are so many different doctrines out there, and so many interpretations of the Bible, that I can spend a lifetime learning about them, and even one lifetime will not be enough time!  The thing is, what I learn about the Bible from the historical-critical method is not always inspiring or edifying, but I don't want to continually fall back on old cliches, such as "God is love".  But suppose I were to learn that God is love, and see that there are endless things to uncover even from that?  Suppose that I can be edified, and learn more and more.

Fourth, I thought about the limitations that are on earth.  I don't entirely agree with Edwards that we can soon see everything that there is to see in our lover, for there may be new things to learn when it comes to other people, even after a long period of time.  At the same time, there are times when people get bored with their spouse or significant other, which is why they may look elsewhere, or the spouse or significant other may try something new to spice up the relationship.  One thing that Edwards does not mention in the passage that Marsden quotes is that familiarity can breed contempt: that seeing things I don't like in another person can set limits on my love.  And then there are hang-ups that we have that inhibit the full expression of our love, as I talk about here.  But suppose we were in a place where such limitations did not exist----where we could grow in love and express more fully the love that we have.

If People Can't Help What They Believe...

My latest reading of George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life covered a variety of topics: the growing influence of Anglicanism in early eighteenth New England, which concerned a number of Puritans; Jonathan Edwards' prophetic speculation, as he calculated that Christ would return in 1866 (1260 years after the start of the papacy, which Edwards dated to 606 C.E.) and viewed himself as one of those who would bring people to Christ in the latter days, through logical argumentation; Edwards' admiration for his future wife, Sarah, on account of her joy (an attribute he himself desired) and her enjoyment of God in solitude (something that he himself experienced); and how Jonathan Edwards----an educated man----could bring his sermons down to earth for his congregation by means of effective analogies.

There was a period of time when Edwards' sermons were rather positive, and that was when Edwards was seeking to encourage himself as he was struggling with negative thinking.  Edwards also had experience in trying to suppress resentment, and that was manifest in some of his sermons, which sought to teach people how to have a loving and forgiving attitude.  Edwards urged people to hate the sin but love the sinner, and even to live at peace with those who had different religious beliefs, for, as Edwards said, people can't help what they believe (page 97----in case you're interested in seeing Marsden's discussion and in tracking down his reference).  That's actually a provocative statement, and it inspires me to ask: Why does God judge those who don't believe in Christ, if they can't help what they believe?  And, if we should cut people some slack because they can't help what they believe, why doesn't God do the same?

Edwards, Locke, and the Relationship of God to Nature

The inside flaps of the cover to George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life states: "Marsden reveals Edwards as a complex thinker and human being who struggled to reconcile his Puritan heritage with the secular, modern world emerging out of the Enlightenment."  My latest reading exemplified this thesis, and I'm sure that was not the last time that this thesis will emerge in this book.

In my latest reading, two issues that I came across were Edwards' reading of John Locke, and Edwards' attempts to define the relationship of God to the natural world.  Regarding Locke, Edwards eventually departed from Locke's critique of the doctrine of predestination, even though Edwards himself initially struggled with that doctrine.  The doctrine just made sense to Edwards at some point, and he no longer wrestled with it.

On the relationship of God with the natural world, Edwards viewed the natural world as an expression of God to human beings----to draw from the Psalmist, the heavens declare the glory of God.  Edwards was not a deist, one who believed that God created the cosmos and then ceased to be involved in it, for Edwards held that God was active in the world and was sustaining it on a continual basis.  But Edwards also shied away from Puritan superstition----by which I mean an obsession with demons and witches, and stories such as that about a man who grew a goat's horn after stealing a goat.  There was a spectrum around Edwards' time: Isaac Newton, for example, had a worldview that deists would run with, one that was deemed to be mechanistic, and yet Newton believed that God was directly behind gravity----not just in the sense that God created gravity a long time ago, but rather in the sense that God was behind it on a continual basis.  Moreover, there were some who maintained that the universe was in the mind of God.

According to Edwards, when one was spiritually illuminated, one could see how the universe fit together and communicated God's glory and wisdom, as well as Christ's love.  Personally, I think that the universe is rather discordant, and that many Christians read into it what they want to find, using mental gymnastics when necessary.  I much prefer the approach of God in God's speeches to Job to Christian attempts to force harmonization on what does not appear to be harmonious----the world is a strange and mysterious place.

Jonathan Edwards' Spiritual Experience; Holding Two Models Simultaneously

I started George Marsden's Jonathan Edwards: A Life.  I'll be going through this book rather slowly, and my blogging through it will be off-and-on, which means that I may not blog about it every day.  But I will be reading and blogging through it, for so far it's a good book.

One issue that stood out to me in my latest reading was Jonathan Edwards' spiritual development when he was young.  There came a point when Jonathan was walking in the woods and had an ecstatic recognition of Christ's beauty and love.  Prior to that point, however, Jonathan really struggled as he sought salvation.  There were times when he was interested in spiritual things, and he was excited at a revival at his father Timothy's church (where Timothy was the pastor).  But then Jonathan's spiritual interest petered out.  Jonathan also struggled with relationships, for, even though he impressed adults with his learning, he tended to alienate his peer-group with his shyness and his seriousness.  Jonathan also struggled with sexual lust.  And, while Jonathan did desire God, he thought that the doctrine of predestination portrayed God as a monster, and he also did not care for his father's discipline.

After Jonathan was awakened to the beauty of Christ, his spiritual interest became more sustained.  Yet, even during some of the time that he was a pastor, he still struggled.  He kept extensive notes about his spiritual condition each day, as he noted times when he was irritable or lacked spiritual passion.  He sought to retain his spirituality through regular spiritual disciplines, which often helped him to arrive at a state of equilibrium.  Moreover, he tried to get along with his parents, even though Marsden narrates that Jonathan's father did not think that Jonathan's conversion was quite good enough (though, ironically, at that time, Timothy wanted Jonathan to pastor a certain church).  Later in life, Jonathan looked back on his years as a younger Christian and reflected that he was relying on himself more than the Holy Spirit.  And, while Edwards' spirituality can easily strike one as overly introspective, he did write a best-selling biography of David Brainerd, which "encouraged countless Christian to seek lives of disinterested sacrifice and missionary service" (page 2).

I identified with many aspects of Edwards' spiritual journey: his search for a consistent spiritual high (if you will), his excitement at people becoming closer to God, and his struggles with himself and others, as well as with certain religious doctrines.

Another issue that stood out to me was how Puritans sought to apply the Old and New Testaments.  The Old Testament presents membership in God's people as something that Israelites are born into----which circumcision marks.  In short, the children of someone who is in God's covenant are themselves part of that covenant.  But the New Testament, in contrast, seems to hold in a number of places that faith is how one becomes part of God's people.  There were Puritans who tried to have it both ways: to uphold the covenant as something into which one was born, but also as something that one entered through a conversion experience.  But suppose we had an infant from Christian parents who entered the community of faith through his baptism, yet he grew up and did not have an acceptable conversion experience?  Should his children be baptized, since the infant children of covenant members were the ones who were to receive baptism, and this guy was halfway in the covenant (due to his birth to Christian parents and his baptism as an infant) and halfway out (since he did not have a conversion experience)?

Roger Williams, if I'm understanding Marsden's discussion correctly, did not treat the church as a Christian nation into which people are born.  Moreover, unlike many Puritans, Williams did not think that God dealt with nations as God did in the Old Testament----judging them according to their obedience or disobedience to certain laws.  Rather, for Williams, the New Testament communicated how God dealt with people in this day and age----people entered the church by faith.  But there were many Puritans who sought to retain an Old Testament model and a New Testament model simultaneously.

Jonathan Edwards grandfather, Solomon Stoddard, argued against the requirement that a person have a demonstrable conversion experience to become a church member.  For Stoddard, even if a person claimed Christ but was not truly converted, his participation in the sacraments might lead him to become a Christian.  Stoddard's open-model was rather controversial.