Knowledge.
Newton pursued scientific knowledge. In doing so, he gained enough of an inkling of the divine power that lay beyond the horizon of his discoveries to acknowledge that he had “been only a boy playing on the seashore.” The author of 2 Peter is “Simon Peter, a servant and apostle of Jesus Christ” (2 Peter 1:1). He was an uneducated fisherman, whom we may presume to have been largely ignorant of scientific matters, but he developed deep wisdom and understanding by virtue of his long association with Jesus. This association began during the latter’s earthly ministry and continued throughout the apostle’s faithful service of the church following Jesus’ resurrection. This “rock [on which] I will build my church” (Matthew 16:18) writes that: “His [God’s] divine power has given us everything we need for life and godliness through our knowledge of him who called us by his own glory and goodness.” (2 Peter 1:3).
Peter, more than almost any man before or since, knew what he was talking about when he spoke of divine power. He reminds his readers that he personally saw the transfiguration of Jesus: “We did not follow cleverly invented stories when we told you about the power and coming of our Lord Jesus Christ, but we were eye-witnesses of his majesty. For he received honour and glory from God the Father when the voice came to him from the Majestic Glory, saying, ‘This is my Son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.’ We ourselves heard this voice that came from heaven when we were with him on the sacred mountain.” (2 Peter 1:16-18). The knowledge that Peter celebrates is not scientific, nor is it worldly. It does not consist in knowledge of things, but of a person. That person is Jesus, the one “who called us by his own glory and goodness.” (2 Peter 1:3). What Peter writes about cannot be known by science, still less proved by it, any more than the personality of a human being can be known and proved scientifically.
The means by which Peter recommends that we pursue and increase in such knowledge is similarly unknown to the scientific method: “For this very reason, make every effort to add to your faith goodness; and to goodness, knowledge; and to knowledge, self-control; and to self-control, perseverance; and to perseverance, godliness; and to godliness, brotherly kindness; and to brotherly kindness, love. For if you possess these qualities in increasing measure, they will keep you from being ineffective and unproductive in your knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ.” (2 Peter 1:5-8). Peter tells us that, if our aim is to increase in knowledge of and closeness to a person, we do so best by emulating the qualities of that person. As we progress from one quality to the next, so we grow in the quality that is nearest the essence of that person. In the case of God, that quality is love. As the apostle John said: “Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love.” (1 John 4:8).
What Peter says goes to the heart of much modern discourse about the relationship between science and religion. Since he writes about things that cannot be known by science or proved by it and since he propounds means that are unknown to the scientific method there are those who would count all that he says as worthless. Such an attitude treats Christianity as harmless fantasy at best and wicked falsehood at worst. The difficulty with this approach is that it fails to describe accurately or completely[52] what goes on in the physical world and has no basis at all on which to account for things of a spiritual nature. After the Roman Catholic Church forced him to recant his statement that the earth revolved around the sun, the astronomer Galileo Galilei is said to have remarked: “But nevertheless it does move.” One might be tempted to echo those words: the fact is that a spiritual dimension exists, whether we like it or not, and a theory that does not take account of this is not much of a theory.
Participation.
Christianity involves participation: in “Grace and peace ... in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.” (2 Peter 1:2). Peter writes to participants in this grace and peace, “To those who through the righteousness of our God and Saviour have received a faith as precious as ours.” (2 Peter 1:1). Such people are also participants in and recipients of the promises of God, and thereby become participants in the nature of God himself: “Through these [his own glory and goodness] he has given us his very great and precious promises, so that through them you may participate in the divine nature and escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.” (2 Peter 1:4). The fact that human beings might be able to “participate in the divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4) is a startling concept. Peter sets out the progression that takes us there:
• “Through the righteousness of our God and our Saviour Jesus Christ [we] have received a faith as precious as ours.” (2 Peter 1:1). That is to say, salvation comes by grace through faith alone.
• “[God’s] divine power has given everything we need for life and godliness” (2 Peter 1:3). Through the power of the Holy Spirit working in us, we are enabled to “work out [our] salvation with fear and trembling.” (Philippians 2:12).
• “Through [his glory and goodness] he has given us his very great and precious promises” (2 Peter 1:4). These promises include the giving of the Holy Spirit: “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counsellor to be with you for ever – the Spirit of truth.” (John 14:16).
• “[Through these promises] you may participate in the divine nature” (2 Peter 1:4). By the power of the Holy Spirit working in us, we “are being transformed into [the Lord’s] likeness with ever-increasing glory” (2 Corinthians 3:18).
As well as enabling our participation in the divine nature, the promises of God also enable us to “escape the corruption in the world caused by evil desires.” (2 Peter 1:4). Again, the concept is striking. Christians live in the world and are subject to all its vicissitudes and temptations. They are often on the receiving end of persecution for their faith and, like everyone else, have to deal with the consequences of a world that is marred and broken by sin. Peter does not say that we are able to avoid such things. What we can avoid, however, is “the corruption ... caused by evil desires” (2 Peter 1:4). This comes about because “it is God who works in [us] to will and to act according to his good purpose.” (Philippians 2:13). That is to say, the activity of the Holy Spirit in our lives begins to change us so that we increasingly desire the things that God wants.[53] Hence we are more and more able to break free from the desires of the sinful nature and thus from the corruption that such desires bring. Evil desires will instead be replaced by faith, goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness, brotherly kindness and love.
Possession.
Peter tells us that possessing faith, goodness, knowledge, self-control, perseverance, godliness and love will make us effective and productive, “But if anyone does not have them, he is short-sighted and blind, and has forgotten that he has been cleansed from his past sins.” (2 Peter 1:9). At first blush, this statement might seem a leap of logic, but it is not. What Peter is driving at is that being cleansed from past sins gives us a clean slate and a fresh start. Failure to take advantage of this by building godly qualities on the ground thus cleared is indeed “short-sighted and blind” (2 Peter 1:9).
Neither should we stand still. Our aim should be to “possess these qualities in increasing measure” (2 Peter 1:8). We are encouraged to press on continually along the road towards attaining the likeness of Christ. This takes discipline and practice. It involves action, for the things that Peter talks about can only be developed by exercising those very qualities through an act of will: we become kind through being kind, develop perseverance through persevering and so forth. In this way we will build on the foundation of faith: “Therefore, my brothers, be all the more eager to make your calling and election sure. For if you do these things, you will never fail, and you will receive a rich welcome into the eternal kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ.” (2 Peter 1:10-11).
We must be always on our guard against the possibility of backsliding, either on our own part or by others. It is for this reason that Peter says: “So, I will always remind you of these things, even though you know them an
d are firmly established in the truth you now have. I think it is right to refresh your memory as long as I live in the tent of this body, because I know that I will soon put it aside, as our Lord Jesus Christ has made clear to me. And I will make every effort to see that after my departure you will always be able to remember these things.” (2 Peter 1:12-15). We too readily forget even the things that we seem to know and to have taken to our hearts, and continual reminders are therefore needed. We are all apt to be “short-sighted and blind, and [to have] forgotten that [we have] been cleansed from [our] past sins.” (2 Peter 1:9).
Conclusion.
Newton’s work opened up new scientific horizons. His discoveries held out great promise for the future advancement of mankind, yet he himself realised their limitations. He was canny enough to recognise that there were many things that he did not know, even though by definition the full extent of what remains to be discovered is always beyond our ken. He was also wise enough to see the hand of God at work. He said: “In the absence of any other evidence, the existence of the human thumb alone would persuade me of the existence of God.”
Science and religion are not implacable enemies. When properly understood and applied, they are two sides of the same coin. God delights in our scientific investigation when it is undertaken for his praise and glory. To search out and discover the wonder and beauty of Creation through science is part of what is involved in the command to “fill the earth and subdue it” (Genesis 1:28). We must beware, however, of making a god out of science. The promise of scientific advancement is as nothing beside the promises of God. Our speculations about the world change as fashions come and go and as fresh discoveries are made. By contrast, “Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and for ever” (Hebrews 13:8) and his Word does not change: “And we have the word of the prophets made more certain, and you will do well to pay attention to it, as to a light shining in a dark place, until the day dawns and the morning star rises in your hearts. Above all, you must understand that no prophecy of Scripture came about by the prophet’s own interpretation. For prophecy never had its origin in the will of man, but men spoke from God as they were carried along by the Holy Spirit.” (2 Peter 1:19-21).
As Peter advises, we “will do well to pay attention to [the word of the prophets]” (2 Peter 1:19). Or, as the writer of Hebrews puts it: “We must pay more careful attention, therefore, to what we have heard, so that we do not drift away. For if the message spoken by angels was binding, and every violation and disobedience received its just punishment, how shall we escape if we ignore such a great salvation?” (Hebrews 2:1).
25. Balance of power
Nahum 2:1-6.
Key word: splendour.
For much of the last thousand years, France and England have been rivals and, often, enemies. Wars between them have been fuelled by different ideologies, from the dynastic concerns of the Angevin and Hundred Years’ Wars to the religious fervour that drove conflict between Protestant and Catholic in a later age, but the logic of geographic proximity has remained constant. Sometimes England has had the upper hand, sometimes France. Yet throughout there is one fact perhaps above all others that demands explanation: in times when land, wealth, population and power were closely linked, how could England even begin to compete with France, whose cultivable area, numbers of inhabitants and resources were so much greater? In 1346 (the year of Crécy) England had a population of some 3 millions, France 12 millions. In 1715, at the close of the War of the Spanish Succession, the United Kingdom (into which England was by then subsumed) had somewhat less than 10 millions, France 19 millions. In 1815, at the end of the Napoleonic Wars, the United Kingdom had 19 millions, France 30 millions. Indeed the population of the United Kingdom did not overtake that of France until the dawn of the twentieth century.[54]
It is of course true that, during some of her conflicts with France, England was able to build effective coalitions against her rival. There were, however, times when it was she who was isolated. It is equally the case that being an island power meant that England was able to fight on her opponents’ territory rather than her own, though this held good only so long as England controlled the Channel and this was less of a certainty than hindsight might make it appear.[55] Occasionally England had the advantage of better military technology – with the longbow, for example, during the Hundred Years’ War – although more often she did not. Sometimes English tactics were superior, though again it was not always so: use of the line instead of the column during the Napoleonic Wars was distinctly old hat, and only British troops consistently employed this formation successfully against Bonaparte’s armies. Certainly, in the latter period Britain was able to bring greater financial resources to bear: a reliable legal system and secure property rights made her national debt (though larger) less costly to service than that of France, whose capricious rulers merited a higher risk premium. By definition, however, this was not a factor in earlier ages.
In truth none of these things, either alone or collectively provides a complete answer. The plain fact is that, time and again, England seemed to have just the right man in just the right place at just the right time. So great are the coincidences and so oft repeated that even the most ardent atheist might be tempted to say that Providence herself took a hand.
The career of John Churchill, later Duke of Marlborough, is a case in point. He was promoted by a fluke: the fact that his wife Sarah happened to be a close friend of Queen Anne and the era was one of unashamed nepotism. Yet he was undoubtedly the man for the hour: a general of genius and consummate diplomat, able to hold together the fractious coalition that strove to hobble the ambitions of Louis XIV and pen France within her existing borders. Marlborough never fought a battle he did not win nor invested a stronghold he did not take. The roll-call of his victories includes Blenheim (1704), which saved Vienna and led to Bavaria’s being taken by the allies; Ramillies (1706) which compelled the French to give up the whole of the Spanish Netherlands; Oudenaarde (1708) which drove Louis XIV to make peace overtures; and Malplaquet (1709) which routed the French on home soil. The reward bestowed on him by a grateful nation, the enormous house and gardens that comprise Blenheim Palace in Oxfordshire, might nowadays seem excessive but is the measure of how contemporaries viewed his achievements. Working closely with his friend and colleague, the Austrian general Prince Eugène of Savoy, Marlborough ensured that the vaulting ambition of the Sun King did not upset the balance of power in Europe.
Contrasts.
The reign of Louis XIV represents the apogee of French royal power and achievement. In culture and military might France was by some distance pre-eminent amongst European nations. The splendour of the Sun King’s court and his breathtaking palace at Versailles held up a mirror to her grandeur. Indeed, the Hall of Mirrors was a fitting metaphor: dazzling in its light and display, magnificent to behold, awesome in conception and execution, but ultimately lacking real substance. As with all dominion built on tyranny and oppression, a hard surface masked what was fragile and brittle. Like Nineveh before her, she was vulnerable: “An attacker advances against you, Nineveh. Guard the fortress, watch the road, brace yourselves, marshal all your strength!” (Nahum 2:1).
When the prophet Nahum spoke in the middle of the seventh century BC, the mighty Assyrian empire and its capital Nineveh seemed in every way beyond comparison with the puny Israelite kingdom of Judah. Small and weak, with little to boast of in terms of architectural or cultural achievement, she must have seemed almost beneath contempt to the haughty Assyrians, who had already overrun the northern kingdom of Israel and become the “destroyers [who] have laid them waste and have ruined their vines.” (Nahum 2:2). Under Ashurbanipal (669-627 BC) Assyria reached a new peak of power and brutality. Yet: “The river gates are thrown open and the palace collapses.” (Nahum 2:6). Nineveh, whose mighty walls and moat were built to withstand a long siege, was taken after just a few months in 612 BC when floodwaters from a tributary of the Tigris swept away a vital section of the
defensive ramparts. The fate of this once great city is a timely reminder of the fragility of human achievement.
The example of the Assyrians should also stand as a warning to all who seek to impose their will on others through force. Our desire to dominate and oppress is the source of conflict and ultimately of our own downfall. In the same way that the threat from Louis XIV helped stir a coalition against France, so Scythians, Medes and Babylonians united to attack Assyria. Nineveh was quite literally wiped off the map. Likewise the impressive edifice built by Louis XIV did not long outlast his death in 1715. Within the space of one lifetime all was similarly swept away by floodwaters, this time a tide of oppressed subjects who rose up in revolution on 14 July 1789.
By contrast, God promises that Judah will not be swept away entirely. Instead: “The LORD will restore the splendour of Jacob like the splendour of Israel” (Nahum 2:2). The fact that God’s way of looking at things is different from ours is emphasised by the twofold repetition of the word ‘splendour.’ From a human point of view, there was little splendour in the Israelite kingdoms by comparison with the mighty empires that surrounded them: Egypt, Assyria, Babylon and (later) Persia, Greece and Rome. Yet she nevertheless had splendour of a different kind: her worth in the eyes of God. We should compare and contrast, drawing wise conclusions from the lessons of the past as to the kind of splendour that we wish to see exhibited in our own lives and in our nation. History teaches that only the splendour that derives from God is worthwhile, and that all other splendours inevitably fade, being at best a curiosity to succeeding generations.
Redeeming a Nation (Timeless Teaching) Page 18
