“Why do Isaiah and Moses make their accusations in a song? In their spiritual wisdom they wanted to implant a great a great thing in their listeners’ souls. Nothing is more useful than to recall one’s sins regularly, and nothing fixes something permanently in ones memory than a melody…He also uses the form of a song because people seem to be under some sort of compulsion to sing the words of a catchy tune again and again. As they repeat the words of this song, they will constantly be reminded of their sins, thus making it easier to teach them virtue.”

Basil of Caesarea: Homily on the First Psalm
Basil of Caesarea (ca. 329-379)

“A psalm is the tranquility of souls, the arbitor of peace, restraining the disorder and turbulence of thoughts, for it softens the passion of the soul and moderates its unruliness. A psalm forms friendships, unites the divided, mediates between enemies. For who can still consider him an enemy with whom he has sent forth one voice to God? So that the singing of psalms brings love, the greatest of good things, contriving harmony like some bond of union and uniting the people in the symphony of a single choir.”

Jerome: Commentary on the Epistle of Paul to the Ephesians
Jerome (ca. 345-419)

“Let youth hear this, let them hear it whose office it is to make melody in the church: Sing to God, not with the voice, but with the heart; not, after the fashion of tragedians, in smearing the throat with a sweet drug, so that theatrical melodies and songs are heard in the church, but in fear, in work, and in knowledge of the Scriptures. And although a man be kakophonos, to use a common expression, if he have good works, he is a sweet singer before God. And let the servant of Christ sing so that he pleases, not through his voice, but through the words which he pronounces, in order that the evil spirit which was upon Saul may depart from those who are similarly troubled and may not enter into those who would make of the house of God a popular theatre.”

Cassiodorus: Institutiones
Cassiodorus (ca. 477-570)

“Music is closely bound up with religion itself. Witness the decachord of the Ten Commandments, the tinkling of the harp, the timbrel, the melody of the organ, the sound of cymbals. The very Psalter is without doubt named after a musical instrument because the exceedingly sweet and grateful melody of the celestial virtues in contained within it.”

Martin Luther: Wittemberg Gesangbuch
Martin Luther (1483-1546)

“That the singing of spiritual songs is a good thing and one pleasing to God is, I believe, not hidden from any Christian, for not only the example of the prophets and kings in the Old Testament (who praised God with singing and playing, with hymns and the sound of all manner of stringed instruments), but also the special custom of singing the psalms, have been known to everyone and universal Christianity from the beginning. Nay, St. Paul establishes this also, 1 Corinthians 14, and orders the Colossians to sing psalms and spiritual songs to the Lord in their hearts, in order that God’s Word and Christ’s teaching may be thus spread abroad and practised in every way.”

At 16, he and a large number of his father’s slaves and vassals were captured by Irish raiders and sold as slaves in Ireland. Forced to work as a shepherd, he suffered greatly from hunger and cold.

After six years, Patrick escaped, probably to France, and later returned to Britain at the age of 22. His captivity had meant spiritual conversion. He may have studied at Lerins, off the French coast; he spent years at Auxerre, France, and was consecrated bishop at the age of 43. His great desire was to proclaim the Good News to the Irish.

In a dream vision it seemed “all the children of Ireland from their mothers’ wombs were stretching out their hands” to him. He understood the vision to be a call to do mission work in pagan Ireland. Despite opposition from those who felt his education had been defective, he was sent to carry out the task. He went to the west and north, where the faith had never been preached, obtained the protection of local kings and made numerous converts.

Because of the island’s pagan background, Patrick was emphatic in encouraging widows to remain chaste and young women to consecrate their virginity to Christ. He ordained many priests, divided the country into dioceses, held Church councils, founded several monasteries and continually urged his people to greater holiness in Christ.

He suffered much opposition from pagan druids and, like many missionaries with unique visions, was criticized in both England and Ireland for the way he conducted his mission. Still, in a relatively short time the island had experienced deeply the Christian spirit, and was prepared to send out its own missionaries, whose efforts were greatly responsible for Christianizing Europe.

One of the few certainly authentic writings is his Confessio, above all an act of homage to God for having called Patrick, unworthy sinner, to be a church planter.

What distinguishes Patrick is the durability of his efforts. When one considers the state of Ireland when he began his mission work, the vast extent of his labors (all of Ireland) and how the seeds he planted continued to grow and flourish, one can only admire the kind of man Patrick must have been. We also see two solid qualities in him: He was humble and he was courageous. The determination to accept suffering and success with equal indifference guided the life of God’s instrument for winning most of Ireland for Christ. If it is true that the holiness of a person is known only by the fruits of his or her work, then Patrick was truly a holy man.

“Christ shield me this day: Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me, Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me, Christ on my right, Christ on my left, Christ when I lie down, Christ when I arise, Christ in the heart of every person who thinks of me, Christ in the eye that sees me, Christ in the ear that hears me” (from “The Breastplate of St. Patrick”).

Only one of the many letters written by Polycarp has been preserved, the one he wrote to the Church of Philippi in Macedonia.

At 86, Polycarp was led into the crowded Smyrna stadium to be burned alive. The flames did not harm him and he was finally killed by a dagger. The centurion ordered the saint’s body burned. The “Acts” of Polycarp’s martyrdom are the earliest preserved, fully reliable account of a Christian martyr’s death. He died in 156.

T. M. Moore

Gregory Nazianzen (329-390).

After his baptism at 30, Gregory gladly accepted his friend Basil’s invitation to join him in a newly founded monastery. The solitude was broken when Gregory’s father, a bishop, needed help in his diocese and estate. It seems that Gregory was ordained a priest practically by force, and only reluctantly accepted the responsibility. He skillfully avoided a schism that threatened when his own father made compromises with Arianism. At 41, Gregory was chosen as bishop of a diocese near Caesarea and at once came into conflict with Valens, the emperor, who supported the Arians. An unfortunate by-product of the battle was the cooling of the friendship of two saints. Basil, his archbishop, sent him to a miserable and unhealthy town on the border of unjustly created divisions in his diocese. Basil reproached Gregory for not going to his see.

When protection for Arianism ended with the death of Valens, Gregory was called to rebuild the faith in the great church in Constantinople, which had been under Arian teachers for three decades. Retiring and sensitive, he dreaded being drawn into the whirlpool of corruption and violence. He first stayed at a friend’s home, which became the only orthodox church in the city. In such surroundings, he began giving the great sermons on the Trinity for which he is famous. In time, Gregory did rebuild the faith in the city, but at the cost of great suffering, slander, insults, power grabs, and even personal violence.

His last days were spent in the type of solitude and austerity he always desired. He wrote religious poetry, some of it autobiographical, of great depth and beauty. He was acclaimed simply as “the Theologian.”

It may be small comfort, but turmoil in the Church today is a mild storm compared to the devastation caused by the Arian heresy, a trauma the Church has never forgotten. Christ did not promise the kind of peace we would love to have—no problems, no opposition, no pain. In one way or another, holiness is always the way of the cross.

QUOTE: “God accepts our desires as though they were a great value. He longs ardently for us to desire and love him. He accepts our petitions for benefits as though we were doing him a favor. His joy in giving is greater than ours in receiving. So let us not be apathetic in our asking, nor set too narrow bounds to our requests; nor ask for frivolous things unworthy of God’s greatness.”

It is God who calls; human beings answer. The vocation of John and his brother James is stated very simply in the Gospels, along with that of Peter and his brother Andrew: Jesus called them; they followed. The absoluteness of their response is indicated by the account. James and John “were in a boat, with their father Zebedee, mending their nets. He called them, and immediately they left their boat and their father and followed him” (Matthew 4:21b-22). For the three former fishermen—Peter, James and John—that faith was to be rewarded by a special friendship with Jesus. They alone were privileged to be present at the Transfiguration, the raising of the daughter of Jairus and the agony in Gethsemane.

But John’s friendship was even more special. In his Gospel, John refers to himself as “the disciple whom Jesus loved” (see John 13:23; 19:26; 20:2), the one who reclined next to Jesus at the Last Supper, and the one to whom he gave the exquisite honor, as he stood beneath the cross, of caring for his mother. “Woman, behold your son…. Behold, your mother” (John 19:26b, 27b).

Because of the depth of his Gospel, John is usually thought of as the eagle of theology, soaring in high regions that other writers did not enter. But the ever-frank Gospels reveal some very human traits. Jesus gave James and John the nickname, “sons of thunder.” While it is difficult to know exactly what this meant, a clue is given in two incidents.

In the first, as Matthew tells it, their mother asked that they might sit in the places of honor in Jesus’ kingdom—one on his right hand, one on his left. When Jesus asked them if they could drink the cup he would drink and be baptized with his baptism of pain, they blithely answered, “We can!” Jesus said that they would indeed share his cup, but that sitting at his right hand was not his to give. It was for those to whom it had been reserved by the Father. The other apostles were indignant at the mistaken ambition of the brothers, and Jesus took the occasion to teach them the true nature of authority: “…[W]hoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave. Just so, the Son of Man did not come to be served but to serve and to give his life as a ransom for many” (Matthew 20:27-28).

On another occasion the “sons of thunder” asked Jesus if they should not call down fire from heaven upon the inhospitable Samaritans, who would not welcome Jesus because he was on his way to Jerusalem. But Jesus “turned and rebuked them” (see Luke 9:51-55).

It is a long way from being eager to sit on a throne of power or to call down fire from heaven to becoming the man who could write: “The way we came to know love was that he laid down his life for us; so we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers” (1 John 3:16).

On the first Easter, Mary Magdalene “ran and went to Simon Peter and to the other disciple whom Jesus loved, and told them, ‘They have taken the Lord from the tomb, and we don’t know where they put him’” (John 20:2). John recalls, perhaps with a smile, that he and Peter ran side by side, but then “the other disciple ran faster than Peter and arrived at the tomb first” (John 20:4b). He did not enter, but waited for Peter and let him go in first. “Then the other disciple also went in, the one who had arrived at the tomb first, and he saw and believed” (John 20:8).

John was with Peter when the first great miracle after the Resurrection took place—the cure of the man crippled from birth—which led to their spending the night in jail together. The mysterious experience of the Resurrection is perhaps best contained in the words of Acts: “Observing the boldness of Peter and John and perceiving them to be uneducated, ordinary men, they [the questioners] were amazed, and they recognized them as the companions of Jesus” (Acts 4:13).

The Apostle John is the author of the Fourth Gospel, three New Testament letters and the Book of Revelation. His Gospel is a very personal account. He sees the glorious and divine Jesus already in the incidents of his mortal life. At the Last Supper, John’s Jesus speaks as if he were already in heaven. It is the Gospel of Jesus’ glory.

A persistent story has it that John’s “parishioners” grew tired of his one sermon, which relentlessly emphasized: “Love one another.” Whether the story is true or not, it has basis in John’s writing. He wrote what may be called a summary of the Bible: “We have come to know and to believe in the love God has for us. God is love, and whoever remains in love remains in God and God in him” (1 John 4:16).

His Glory

Greatness is never so glorious as when it takes the place of lowliness.

Power is never so attractive as when it is placed at the disposal of others.

Might is never so triumphant as when it sets aside its own prerogatives.

Sovereignty is never so winsome as when it is seen in the place of service.

And, may we not say it reverently,

Deity had never appeared so glorious as when it hung upon a maiden’s breast!

Yes, we behold His glory – the glory of an infinite condescension.

Arthur W. Pink, Exposition of the Gospel of John

There were three reasons for giving this [fourth] commandment: First, with the seventh day of rest the Lord wished to give to the people of Israel an image of spiritual rest, whereby believers must cease from their own works in order to let the Lord work in them. Secondly, he wished that there be an established day in which believers might assemble in order to hear his Law and worship him. Thirdly, he willed that one day of rest be granted to servants and to those who live under the power of others so that they might have a relaxation from their labor. The latter, however, is rather an inferred than a principal reason.

As to the first reason, there is no doubt that it ceased in Christ; because he is the truth by the presence of which all images vanish. He is the reality at whose advent all shadows are abandoned. Hence St. Paul (Colossians 2:17) affirms that the Sabbath has been a shadow of a reality yet to be. And he declares else-where its truth when in the letter to the Romans, chapter 6:8, he teaches us that we are buried with Christ in order that by his death we may die to the corruption of our flesh. And this is not done in one day, but during all the course of our life, until altogether dead in our own selves, we may be filled with the life of God. Hence, superstitious observance of days must remain far from Christians.

The two last reasons, however, must not be numbered among the shadows of old. Rather, they are equally valid for all ages. Hence, though the Sabbath is abrogated, it so happens among us that we still convene on certain days in order to hear the word of God, to break the [mystic] bread of the Supper, and to offer public prayers; and, moreover, in order that some relaxation from their toil be given to servants and workingmen. As our human weakness does not allow such assemblies to meet every day, the day observed by the Jews has been taken away (as a good device for eliminating superstition) and another day has been destined to this use. This was necessary for securing and maintaining order and peace in the Church.

As the truth therefore was given to the Jews under a figure, so to us on the contrary truth is shown without shadows in order, first of all, that we meditate all our life on a perpetual Sabbath from our works so that the Lord may operate in us by his spirit; secondly, in order that we observe the legitimate order of the Church for listening to the word of God, for administering the sacraments, and for public prayers; thirdly, in order that we do not oppress inhumanly with work those who are subject to us.” [From Instruction in Faith, Calvin's own 1537 digest of the Institutes of the Christian Religion, sec. 8, "The Law of the Lord"].

I appreciate the line Calvin draws in the sand: There is no doubt that the Sabbath, as a binding sign of the covenant, has ceased in Christ. We at CHRISTCHURCH affirm this up and down. We are not trying to reinvigorate a legalistic practice of Sabbath keeping.

But, I confess, I really enjoy Calvin’s points about the principles tucked within the Sabbath celebration that are “equally valid for all ages”. Specifically, he points to a day set aside for the people of God to be together in Word, feast and prayers. He also highlights the blessing of ceasing from our toil.

And here’s the real substance of his thought: “We meditate all our life on a perpetual Sabbath from our works.” The substance of Sabbath for us is not the Mosaic Law, but the finished work of Christ. In the most real sense, the completion of Sabbath in Christ is an every day experience for us, not just once a week. Whereas the Jews observe Sabbath with a longing for eternal rest, we celebrate with an acknowledgment that we have, in fact already entered that rest … (though, there is an ultimate and final brand of eternal rest that awaits us still in the second coming of Christ).

When we talk of embracing the Feast of Eden as a congregation, I see us standing right in line with Calvin’s distinctions – throwing out the “bath water” of the old covenant, but keeping the “baby” of timeless, wise truths of gathering and rest. – bh

“The Ten Commandments are good news. They tell Israel how to live so as to please God and display to the nations God’s creational purposes for humanity. Because the LORD is the Creator, his instructions fit with the way he has made the world. This is particularly clear in the fourth commandment, which links the human pattern of work and rest to God’s own work and rest in making the world: the lives of his people are to mirror his own life. The commandments are thus the keys to living fully human lives; they are certainly not intended as horrible constraints to make life difficult … [however] Christians themselves differ as to how the fourth commandment (keeping the Sabbath) should be honored in our own day” (p. 69-70).

As we discuss the Feast of Eden at CHRISTCHURCH, it can be misconstrued as wanting to see us placed back under the law. This is not the case at all. Rather, like Goheen points out, we want to do whatever we can to live “fully human lives” in a god-like way. Biblically, this includes rhythm and rest. Sabbath helps us mirror that and maintain that healthy principle.

“Each week Israel keeps the Sabbath day as a reminder of what its life is really all about. And the Israelite year is punctuated by regular festivals during which Israel pauses before God to remember and to celebrate” (p. 74)

Sabbath not as an isolated piece of legalistic obedience for its own sake – but Sabbath that brings clarity and vision to all of life – Monday through Saturday inclusive.

“For the Pharisees … the Sabbath … prepares Israel for God’s return” (p. 40-41).

The theological heritage concerning Sabbath has always had an “Advent” component – a look to the coming One. – bh