A Thought for Resurrection Sunday

by Ronald W. Kirk

I just glanced at Cornelius Van Til’s Why I Believe in God. In this little pamplet, Dr. Van Til—one of the great theologians of the 20th Century—says something extraordinary:

[I]f my unity [of worldview] is comprehensive enough to include the efforts of those who reject it, it is large enough even to include that which those who have been set upright by regeneration cannot see. My unity is that of a child who walks with its father through the woods. The child is not afraid because its father knows it all and is capable of handling every situation. So I readily grant that there are some "difficulties" with respect to belief in God and His revelation in nature and Scripture that I cannot solve. In fact, there is mystery in every relationship with respect to every fact that faces me, for the reason that all facts have their final explanation in God Whose thoughts are higher than my thoughts, and Whose ways are higher than my ways. And it is exactly that sort of God that I need. Without such a God, without the God of the Bible, the God of authority, the God who is self-contained and therefore incomprehensible to men, there would be no reason in anything. No human being can explain in the sense of seeing through all things, but only he who believes in God has the right to hold that there is an explanation at all.

I have disputed with an atheist, someone close and dear to me, who insists that my worldview is irrational and that I am brainwashed by my faith and by those who propagate it.  The Bible is nothing but myth, he says. As we converse, I am intrigued with his rationality. He is a man of pure fact.  This is very different from the world of Dr. Van Til, where mystery is everywhere.  In response to his declarations, I attempted to recite back to my friend a summary of his beliefs, in essence thus: 

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Make Your Life Count; Join in My Quest!

by Eugene Clingman

Do right My sons; do right you see
For Jesus the Christ is not Lord to be
But now reigns from heaven down here upon earth
Blessing the righteous but the wicked are cursed

He sees your actions He knows your heart
And for His Kingdom you must do your part
You’ve only two choices whose servant you’ll be
That of the Victor or of the serpent who flees

So give Me My son your heart your delight
And do what is good and just in My sight
Walk in My truth and not in the dark
For My Spirit to you my son I impart

With Me take your stand ‘gainst enemy and foe
For there are so many who cast off and o’er throw
Jesus My Christ, His Law and His Word
Wishing the Gospel no more would be heard

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So Many Miracles

by Eugene Elander

So many miracles, life does comprise,
As we would see, had we only the eyes;
So many miracles, with smiles or tears,
As we would hear, had we only the ears;
So many miracles, which truly are real,
As we would touch, had we only the feel;
So many miracles, with faith playing its part,
As we would know, had we only the heart.

Used with permission.

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Holy Week, 1935

by H. Frederick Hoops, deceased former Pastor, Willow Avenue Baptist Church
(Hoboken, New Jersey) 1935 -- (Grandfather of the late Rev. Christopher Rory
Hoops, founding theology editor NPI)

Very properly, the week which is ushered in by Palm Sunday is so designated. A particular sanctity attaches to these days. They recall the events that constitute the climax not only of our Lord's earthly ministry, but also the Triune God's eternal plan of salvation.

The week opens with our Lord's royal entry into Jerusalem. It is a march of triumph. The days that follow are marked by a series of vehement verbal assaults made upon Jesus by His enemies. He parries every thrust. In graphic parables, He exposes their evil plans and the doom that their evil course will bring upon them. 

On Thursday evening, He gathers with His disciples in the upper room. He institutes the Holy Communion. He speaks so tenderly to these men who wilt soon experience one shock after another. He crosses the Kidron and enters Gethsemane. His Passion begins. 

He is arrested. He is dragged from one tribunal to another. The night is made ghastly by the physical, mental and spiritual tortures to which He is subjected. The scene shifts with kaleidoscope rapidity. At last, the insistent demand is satisfied. The sentence of death is confirmed, Jesus is led away to be crucified. 

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I Believe

by Eugene Clingman

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