Holy Conversation

The word ‘conversation’ used to refer to all of life. Paul’s conversation in times past as it is in the King James version, refers to how he lived not just to how he spoke. Today we usually confine the word to exchanges of speech. In the course of a day we may have several conversations with several different people. There can be few of us who often go all day without speaking to someone, even if only by telephone. How holy are our conversations? Whatever Christians do they should do it in Jesus’s name and for God’s glory. That includes how we speak to others.

The importance of holy conversation

The Bible brings out the importance of holy conversation in a number of places. Its importance is often underlined. For example, in the Old Testament, family conversation is to include talk of God’s Law. Such conversation is not to be confined to holy places or holy feasts but to be part of everyday conversation, at home, out walking, in the morning, in the evening (Deuteronomy 6:6, 11:9). This is reflected in the psalms where the psalmist wants all who fear God to listen to him tell what God has done for him (66:16) and states how keen he is to pass on God’s Word to the next generation (71, 78).

In the New Testament a key text is Colossians 4:6 Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt .... When the believer speaks there ought to be something of the grace of God in it. It should be thoughtful and kind, uncomplaining and thankful, acknowledging God and pointing to Christ. Further, there should be salt in it. Salt is a preservative. When a Christian is present, the conversation should not deteriorate into what corrupts but should come alive with what will do others good. Sometimes rebuke or pleading will be involved. As all Old Testament sacrifices were to be seasoned with salt, so all New Testament conversation should be preserved from every corrupting influence.

More generally, James has a great deal to say about the importance and influence of the tongue. Its influence for good or evil is out of all proportion to size. What havoc it can wreak if not strictly controlled. How confusing when it gushes fresh water one moment and salt the next. What harm there is in idle gossip, malicious slander, self-exalting boasts, harsh words, deliberate deception and empty nonsense. Remember, at the judgment we will have to give an account of every idle word.

More indirectly, we can gauge the importance of holy conversation by considering the power for good it can be, under God. We have already mentioned how important it is for keeping the faith alive in families. It is also important in telling others of the good news of Christ. Peter reminds us of the importance of always being ready with an answer for those who question us about our hope. Several Proverbs are apposite, The lips of the righteous nourish many; those of the wise spread knowledge and promote instruction; pleasant words are a honeycomb, sweet to the soul and healing to the bones; as iron sharpens iron so one man sharpens another (15:4, 7; 16:23, 24; 25:11; 27:17). It is by means of holy conversation that fellow believers are encouraged (Hebrews 10:25), those young in the faith are instructed and unbelievers are drawn to Christ. Think of the impact some conversations may have had on you, especially with older believers. Remember how the conversation of those godly women long ago in Bedford made such an impression on the then unconverted John Bunyan.

 

The improvement of holy conversation

Given the importance of holy conversation, it is clearly a matter to which we need to give serious attention. What can we do to improve our conversation?

• Get your heart right. There can be no question that the priority must be our hearts. Out of the overflow of the heart the mouth speaks (Matthew 12:34). We must let Christ’s Word dwell in us richly. It is no wonder that our conversation is dull and lifeless when we do not store our hearts with Christ’s Word.
• Be careful what you say and how much you say. The Proverbs say A man of knowledge uses words with restraint; when words are many, sin is not absent (10:19, 17:27). The fool multiplies words says Ecclesiastes 10:19. As a rule we should be slow to speak, though that must not become an excuse for cowardice or laziness.
• Be determined to do others good. Ephesians 5:4 rules out obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking of course. In 4:29 Paul had warned against any unwholesome talk. Rather, speak what will build others up and do them good.
• Make conversation a matter of prayer. Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight (Psalm 19:14). At the start of the day and as we begin to speak to others we should pray for God’s help and wisdom.
• Think through the sorts of thing that you might say in a given situation. 1 Peter 3:15 talks about being prepared to give an answer. Christian wisdom demands that we think through approximately how we are going to present the Christian faith to the unbeliever and surely too how we can best edify our fellow believer.

This article first appeared in Grace Magazine

Nonconformists and 1662

I grew up on a housing estate in South Wales. When I was five years old, there was hardly a building on the estate very much older than I was. One hundred yards round the corner from my door, however, was a magnificent and much older nonconformist chapel with its own graveyard.
The chapel was built in 1836, the work having begun in 1815. To my young eyes the chapel looked something like an alien spaceship landed in the middle of our modern world. That is where I first heard about Jesus Christ and faith in him, and became a Christian, a Baptist and a nonconformist.
Since those days I must have worshipped in a hundred or more such chapels and, for the last 28 years or so, I have preached regularly in a nonconformist chapel in my role as pastor of a nonconformist church (rather less attractive and distinct, it was built in 1870). 

Further, a large chunk of my reading and study has been in the nonconformist milieu. I have been immersed in nonconformity all my life, and my debt to the movement, under God, is incalculable. Such things are also, no doubt, true of many who read Evangelical Times.

Lloyd-Jones and Spurgeon
The writer Anthony Burgess once wrote: 'It's always good to remember where you come from and celebrate it. To remember where you come from is part of where you're going'.

The beginnings of nonconformity are something that nonconformists or dissenters today ought to be familiar with. Surely it is right for us to remember the Great Ejection of 1662, which marks the beginning of nonconformity. Iain Murray has called it a 'spiritual watershed which divides two eras of our religious history'.

Back in 1962, Dr D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, giving the annual lecture of the Evangelical Library in London, argued for doing so on the basis that practically all that is good in evangelicalism finds its roots in the Puritanism that was so fiercely persecuted in the Ejection and oppression that followed.

He also added that 'the very greatness of the men themselves as men of God demands our attention'. This echoes the view of C. H. Spurgeon who, preaching on Samson in 1858, said, 'those great preachers whose names we remember, were men who counted nothing their own. 

'They were driven out from their benefices, because they could not conform to the Established Church, and they gave up all they had willingly to the Lord. They were hunted from place to place ... they wandered here and there to preach the gospel to a few poor sheep, being fully given up to their Lord.

'Those were foul times; but they promised they would walk the road fair or foul, and they did walk it knee-deep in mud; and they would have walked it if it had been knee-deep in blood too'.

Those who were ejected in 1662 suffered as they did as a result of their loyalty to conscience. In this they are a tremendous example to all believers, nonconformist or not. However, nonconformists today should especially be aware of their example.

Christian churches existed outside the national church in England before 1662, but it was only when large numbers of Puritans from within the established church 'threw in their lot with the despised sectaries' that nonconformity or dissent, as it was to become, became a force to be reckoned with.

J. C. Ryle
As for those who today are outside nonconformity, it would be good for them to ponder the assessment made in the nineteenth century by Bishop J. C. Ryle.

He wrote of the Great Ejection, from an Anglican point of view, as miserable, disgraceful and suicidal. 'A more impolitic and disgraceful deed never disfigured the annals of a Protestant church', he wrote. It did 'an injury to the cause of true religion in England, which will probably never be repaired'.

He felt, therefore, that we should all 'know something about the subject, because it serves to throw immense light on the history of our unhappy religious divisions in this country'.

Basic facts

The basic facts are that in 1662 the Act of Uniformity was passed. The main event occurred on St Bartholomew's Day, 24 August 1662, when about 2000 ministers and others in the pay of the national church in England and Wales were silenced or ejected from their livings, for failing to conform to and dissenting from what the Church of England required.

What was required, among other things, was that they use the newly published Prayer Book. The 1662 Prayer Book has many admirable qualities, but there is much to object to and this renewed policy of vigorously enforcing its use was too much for many. This was especially the case as they had ceased using it over the decade of interregnum after the death of Charles I.

The Prayer Book was not the only concern (nonconformists objected, for example, to the requirement for re-ordination of ministers by a bishop where that had not happened before), but it proved to be the catalyst for their objections and fears.

Conscience
The Bible speaks about the conscience often enough, but it is a rather neglected subject among evangelicals today. The 1662 men were those who knew that they had a conscience and were willing to act upon it with courage when necessary.

The story is told of how someone once said to Oliver Heywood, 'Ah, Mr Heywood, we should gladly have you preach still in our church'.

He replied: 'Yes, I would as gladly preach as you can desire it, if I could do it with a safe conscience'.

The man honestly replied: 'Oh, sir, many nowadays make a great gash in their consciences. Cannot you make a little nick in yours?' Heywood clearly could not. Oh for men and women like him today!

Tradition

Further, what decides us, as far as truth is concerned? Do we say that if we were born into a certain church, Anglican or Baptist, say, that we simply remain within it 'come hell or high water'?

Are we free to follow a certain tradition, simply because it is to us an attractive one or gives certain advantages? Or is it truth that really matters? In Dr Lloyd-Jones' words: 'Am I to be influenced primarily by the fact that I happen to have been brought up in a certain denomination, or am I to be influenced primarily by the teaching of the Word of God?'

Integrity

What about mental reservations or giving my own private interpretation to articles or confessions of faith that I am required to subscribe to?

'Whatever may be said against them', says Lloyd-Jones again, 'the Puritans were honest men. They could not prevaricate; they could not indulge in mental reservations'. What about us?

'In it to win it'

The Puritans tried for more than 100 years to work within the Church of England. In 1662 the majority of them felt compelled to say enough is enough, and so they were ejected.

To quote Lloyd-Jones yet again: 'Their story compels all who hold their evangelical views to face this question. When do we come to the position of 1662? At what point do we feel that we are compromising the truth and violating conscience?'

The Anglican church of today is undoubtedly very different to what it was in 1662, though not all things have changed. Anyone who chooses to work within it ought to be aware of its history.

This article first appeared in Evangelical Times

Reading C S Lewis

Back in my salad days when I was green in judgement, some 20 or more years ago, I remember telling a congregation, by way of application, not to bother to read anything by C. S. Lewis.

I did not say he was of the devil or not a Christian, as some would maintain, but I thought there were better things to read. I remember a young man challenging this statement, which I defended then but would now want to nuance quite a bit.

Like all generalisations, including this one, it was inaccurate. But what prompted such a swingeing generalisation?

I had read some C. S. Lewis myself and had become concerned. Someone had given me The great divorce as a present, and its unbiblical idea that there was a way out of hell, and other aspects of the book, perturbed me.

I had probably decoded errors lurking in the pages of the Narnia tales too. I had never read Dr Martyn Lloyd-Jones’ statement, quoted in Christianity today, at the time of Lewis’s death, saying that he ‘had a defective view of salvation and was an opponent of the substitutionary and penal view of the atonement’, but would have picked it up from others who had.

Doctrinal error

A whole catalogue of doctrinal errors have, unsurprisingly, been laid at Lewis’s door over the years.

He appears not to have accepted the infallibility of Scripture (in a letter, he wrote, ‘The total result is not the Word of God, in the sense that every passage, in itself, gives impeccable science or history’); total depravity (he suggests in The problem of pain that the doctrine may ‘turn Christianity into a form of devil worship’); or justification by faith (Roman Catholic biographer Joseph Pearce points out that Lewis believed the sacraments are vital in Christianity — ‘Immediately, therefore, Lewis is excluding the Protestant doctrine of sola fide from the "merely Christian"’).

On the atonement, he says in Mere Christianity, ‘The central Christian belief is that Christ’s death has somehow put us right with God and given us a fresh start. Theories as to how it did this are another matter’.

It appears that he believed in inclusionism (‘There are people in other religions who … belong to Christ without knowing it’; see Mere Christianity), in purgatory (‘I believe in purgatory. Mind you, the Reformers had good reason for throwing doubt on the Romish doctrine’; see Letters to Malcolm) and in praying for the dead (‘Of course I pray for the dead’; Letters to Malcolm again). Even if only some of the charges are fully justified, it should give us pause.

So, in this month, the 50th anniversary of Lewis’s death, and a time when enthusiasm for Lewis among evangelicals has never been greater, what should we think of him? Should we read his books?

Prolific writer

Well, first let’s remember that he wrote many books. Over 50 books are currently available with his name on the spine, some being posthumous compilations. There are also three compilations of his letters, which are of biographical interest and often serve to clarify his views at certain points.

The books can be divided, more or less, into three broad categories. First, there are about 14 works of literary criticism and similar academic studies (e.g. The allegory of love, The discarded image). As time goes by, these scholarly works inevitably become more and more dated, but those who are studying in the field of literature or allied fields may well want to read those works. His Studies in words is a fascinating piece

Then there are about 20 works of a more imaginative sort. These can be subdivided into the seven Narnia books, written for children; his four science fiction novels (the trilogy Out of the silent planet, Perelandra (a.k.a. Voyage to Venus), That hideous strength and the unfinished The dark tower; and his poetry (two of these books written while still an atheist).

Narnia

The Narnia books have sold over 100 million copies and are available in 47 languages. Some of the stories have been made into successful films.

Early on, Lewis wrote rather coyly that: ‘Some people seem to think that I began by asking myself how I could say something about Christianity to children; then fixed on the fairy tale as an instrument, then collected information about child psychology and decided what age group I’d write for; then drew up a list of basic Christian truths and hammered out "allegories" to embody them. This is all pure moonshine. I couldn’t write in that way. It all began with images; a faun carrying an umbrella, a queen on a sledge, a magnificent lion. At first there wasn’t anything Christian about them; that element pushed itself in of its own accord.'

However, in 1961 he was quite upfront in saying that: The magician’s nephew tells of the Creation and how evil entered Narnia; The Lion, etc, the crucifixion and resurrection; Prince Caspian, restoration of the true religion after corruption; The horse and his boy the calling and conversion of a heathen; The voyage of the dawn treader, the spiritual life (especially in Reepicheep); The silver chair, the continuing war with the powers of darkness; The last battle, the coming of the antichrist (the ape), the end of the world and the last judgement.

A great deal of enjoyment can be had from the Narnia books and the science fiction — even more overt in its Christianity. They are well written stories that appeal to a wide variety of people.

Insights

They also provide flashes of useful theological insight. For example, when the children ask if Aslan is safe, Mr Beaver says: ‘Safe? … Don’t you hear what Mrs Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the King, I tell you.' What we must not fall into, is drawing our theology from these stories. One other piece of fiction of a more theological bent is The Screwtape letters, and its less well known follow-up, Screwtape proposes a toast.

These books are written in a subtle way, apparently revealing how devils see things. Again, there are brilliant moments. Screwtape writes to his nephew and junior: ‘Indeed the safest road to hell is the gradual one — the gentle slope, soft underfoot, without sudden turnings, without milestones, without signposts’, and: ‘It is funny how mortals always picture us as putting things into their minds: in reality our best work is done by keeping things out.'

Rather forgotten is The pilgrim’s regress, which Lewis later regretted having written. Jim Packer wrote that when he was newly converted, in 1945, ‘the student who was discipling me lent me The pilgrim’s regress. This gave me both a full-colour map of the Western intellectual world, as it had been in 1932 and still pretty much was 13 years later, and also a very deep delight in knowing that I knew God beyond anything I had felt before. The vivid glow of Lewis’s scenic and dramatic imagination, as deployed in the story, had started to grab me. Regress, Lewis’s first literary effort as a Christian, is still for me the freshest and liveliest of all his books, and I re-read it more often than any of the others.'

Care needed

That leaves some 17 more biblical, theological and philosophically related works. These include The problem of pain, The case for Christianity, Miracles, Mere Christianity, Letters to Malcolm, God in the dock and the autobiographical Surprised by joy. Here one has to be particularly careful. Peter Barnes has noted that: ‘Lewis never regarded himself as a theologian; his strengths lay in his wonderful command of prose and in his clarity of thought.'

Sadly, too many people have turned to Lewis for their theology, to their detriment and often to that of others. In a recent book criticising certain aspects of Tim Keller’s teaching, the influence of C. S. Lewis’s bad theology has been noted.

What a warning that is to us all, that, while we would be foolish to deny Lewis’s wonderful skills as a thinker and writer, we would be equally unwise to suppose he is an unerring theologian. Like all men, his feet are of clay.