The Plan of God |
Discipleship |
Faith |
Sin |
Perseverence |
Prayer |
Communion With God |
Pursuing God |
Devotion |
Following Jesus |
Time With God |
Sanctification |
Spiritual Warfare |
Trust |
The Word of God |
View All Categories
King Jehoram passed away at age 32 "to no one's regret." Ouch. The Puritan John Owen not only left thousands of pages of passionate theology behind, his life inspired one of the world's wordiest epitaphs on his grave marker. It is worth our attention.
Recent Entries
God? Who Needs Him?May 31, 2013
Self-sufficient humanism. Paul saw it coming – “lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God.”
Imago Dei
September 12, 2012
So God created mankind in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them.
Why Can't I Pray?
August 18, 2012
The bible gives us several reasons, but according to Jeremy Taylor, a deceitful heart is at the root of prayerlessness.
It's Not Rocket Science
July 23, 2012
To keep in step with the Spirit should be our daily quest. And if we are successful at that, all of life falls into place.
Theological Steak
April 10, 2012
These words by P. T. Forsythe on the magnificence of Christ's work are to theology what Ruth's Chris is to a good steak.
Describing the Indescribable
February 11, 2012
What we have in Christ will take all eternity to describe. But for one segment of one sermon, a great preacher made a mighty attempt.
Making Sense Of It All
January 30, 2012
Where are things headed? Is there rhyme and reason to the endless cycle of summer, fall, winter and spring? Is there a plan in place, or is randomness the explanation?
Now That's A Headstone!!
June 20, 2009
John Paton, the missionary to the south seas, said of his deceased father:
"he himself in 1868, having reached his 77th year, an altogether beautiful and noble episode of human existence having been enacted."
Not a bad epitaph for any son to write of his father. Consider what was chisled into the grave marker of John Owen, the Puritan.
Late in life, after declining the presidency of Harvard, he expired after "years of martyrdom to asthma and gallstones." (J. I. Packer) What follows is a translation from the Latin, taking some liberty for the sake of coherence.
John Owen, born in Osfordshire, son of a distinguished theologian, was himself a more distinguished one, who must be counted among the most distinguished of his age.
Furnished with the recognized resources of humane learning in uncommon measure, he put them all, as a well-ordered array of handmaids, at the service of theology, which he served himself.
His theology was polemical, practical, and what is called casuistical, and it cannot be said that any one of these was peculiarly his rather than another.
In polemical theology, with more than herculean strength, he strangled three poisonous serpents, the Arminian, the Socinian, and the Roman.
In practical theology, he laid out before others the whole of the activity of the Holy Spirit, which he had first experienced in his own heart, according to the rule of the Word.
And, leaving other things aside, he cultivated, and realized in practice, the blissful communion with God of which he wrote; a traveler on earth who grasped God like one in heaven.
In causistry, he was valued as an oracle to be consulted on every complex matter.
A scribe instructed in every way for the kingdom of God, this pure lamp of gospel truth shone forth on many in private, on more from the pulpit, and on all in his printed works, pointing everyone to the same goal.
And in this shining forth he gradually, as he and others recognized, squandered his strength till it was gone. His holy soul, longing to enjoy God more, left the shattered ruins of his once-handsome body, full of permanent weaknesses, attacked by frequent diseases, worn out most of all by hard work, and no longer a fit instrument for serving God, on a day rendered dreadful for many by earthly powers but now made happy for him through the power of God. August 25, 1683. He was 67.
"he himself in 1868, having reached his 77th year, an altogether beautiful and noble episode of human existence having been enacted."
Not a bad epitaph for any son to write of his father. Consider what was chisled into the grave marker of John Owen, the Puritan.
Late in life, after declining the presidency of Harvard, he expired after "years of martyrdom to asthma and gallstones." (J. I. Packer) What follows is a translation from the Latin, taking some liberty for the sake of coherence.
John Owen, born in Osfordshire, son of a distinguished theologian, was himself a more distinguished one, who must be counted among the most distinguished of his age.
Furnished with the recognized resources of humane learning in uncommon measure, he put them all, as a well-ordered array of handmaids, at the service of theology, which he served himself.
His theology was polemical, practical, and what is called casuistical, and it cannot be said that any one of these was peculiarly his rather than another.
In polemical theology, with more than herculean strength, he strangled three poisonous serpents, the Arminian, the Socinian, and the Roman.
In practical theology, he laid out before others the whole of the activity of the Holy Spirit, which he had first experienced in his own heart, according to the rule of the Word.
And, leaving other things aside, he cultivated, and realized in practice, the blissful communion with God of which he wrote; a traveler on earth who grasped God like one in heaven.
In causistry, he was valued as an oracle to be consulted on every complex matter.
A scribe instructed in every way for the kingdom of God, this pure lamp of gospel truth shone forth on many in private, on more from the pulpit, and on all in his printed works, pointing everyone to the same goal.
And in this shining forth he gradually, as he and others recognized, squandered his strength till it was gone. His holy soul, longing to enjoy God more, left the shattered ruins of his once-handsome body, full of permanent weaknesses, attacked by frequent diseases, worn out most of all by hard work, and no longer a fit instrument for serving God, on a day rendered dreadful for many by earthly powers but now made happy for him through the power of God. August 25, 1683. He was 67.
