Freedom: 20 Years On

The first time I visited Eastern Europe I baptized 12 Hungarians in secret at Lake Balaton at 10:30 in the evening. They were mostly students. For security purposes we arrived suddenly and departed even more suddenly. The words pronounced over the students in the water were echoed antiphonally in Hungarian on the shore by someone now a colleague in Budapest. He had (and has) a heavy South Carolina accent. I’m sure the startled loiterers on the beach remember that night even more vividly than I.
“Because of your profession of faith in Jesus Christ as Savior and Lord
And because you’re trusting in His death and in His shed blood alone to save you from your sins
I baptize you my brother Gabor (or my sister Anna)
In the name of the Father, and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit
Amen.”
Last Saturday I said those same words over 9 Czech and Slovak university students in a little lake in Moravia, Czech Republic. We were right out in the open at the end of a week-long Conference also in the open. I drove over two borders to get there and was never asked to show my passport. Such are the new realities which accompany freedom in Eastern Europe.
The Berlin Wall fell in 1989. With it the Iron Curtain dissolved. It had stretched, in Churchill’s famous formula, “from Stettin on the Baltic to Trieste on the Adriatic...”.
What seemed like a permanent fixture in our lives was suddenly gone. The disappearance of the Soviet Bloc was not one of those gradual Roman Empire-like decays with barbarians finally at the gates. It was more like Belshazzar’s feast. In a moment it vanished. And anyway the barbarians had always been ruling from inside the gate.
Can it have been 20 years?
The Hungarians have always received too little credit. Our memory is settled on the Germans thronging each side of the wall shouting “Freiheit!, Freiheit!, Freiheit!”. I am grateful that our family was in Germany that unforgettable day.
But the thing was actually precipitated in Sopron, Hungary, at an obscure crossing into Austria. The Hungarians opened the border and let everyone through without challenge. Ernst Honecker the East German leader and Nicolai Ceausescu the Romanian ogre begged Gorbachev to send the tanks in as they did during the ’56 rising. He refused and the game was over. In a startlingly short time the Soviet Empire disappeared.
The vestiges of socialist conviction and Communist idealism are alive all over the world. In China, fast becoming the most consequential nation on the planet, the Communists still rule. It’s important to remember that political and economic theories are just that: theories.
It was the Communists themselves who always insisted we look to the verdict of History.
Agreed.
And the verdict of history is this:
No one ever died trying to escape from the West side of the Iron Curtain to the East side.
In one of the first blogs I told you about Lenka, a remarkable Czech songwriter. I’ve attached two of her songs sung after the baptism last Saturday for you to enjoy.
You won’t understand the words but I think you will agree they are beautiful.
They may even help you to worship as you reflect upon God’s providence among the nations in 1989.
Lenka became a believer soon after the events of those days.

On the Reading of Old Books

Andrew A Bonar

Benjamin B. Warfield
Warren Wiersbe warned against forsaking the books of the ages for the books of the hour. We are reading books now which will not be read 50 years hence. If a book will not be read in an after-generation it is doubtful whether it should be read as a contemporary edition. The obvious problem with this thesis is that the classics were new in their own generation, and the only way to determine which books should endure is to read them. That notwithstanding, it would seem prudent to bulk our reading diet with volumes which have endured. CS Lewis (who else?) recommended that we read two old books for every new one. Sound counsel that.
It is possible of course to take our preferences for the old to an extreme. If I opposed everything new and ephemeral I would be a hypocrite to write this blog. For a very brief period Lewis and his colleague JRR Tolkien succeeded in eliminating every book published after the death of Keats from the Oxford English syllabus! Their argument (which I won’t go into) took some funny turns and (unlike most of their arguments) was easily refuted. Owen Barfield (Lewis’ best friend while an Oxford undergraduate) condemned what he called “chronological snobbery’ which meant prejudice against something because it was old. But the thing can work in reverse as well. We of an antiquarian bent run the risk of rejecting something of value simply because it is not old. Still I prefer the old, and am convinced, that “…the old is better…” (Luke 5:39)
It’s the same with music. Many years ago I was listening to Twila Paris (then a contemporary favorite). Most of her recorded songs are her own. In the middle of one CD though, I was startled by the words:
“Rise up my soul arise
Shake off thy guilty fears
The bleeding sacrifice on thy behalf appears”
Much as I admire her it was immediately obvious that she did not write the song. And not only that, I was convinced THE SONG COULD NOT HAVE BEEN WRITTEN IN THE 20th CENTURY.
“Before the throne thy surety stands
My name is written on His hands.”
I read the liner notes to confirm the obvious.
The thing was done by Charles Wesley.
(By the way, Twila’s updated version was terrific.)
Even CS Lewis confessed to enjoying the novels of his contemporary EM Forster. He was also a great fan of PG Wodehouse (my own favorite secular author- candy for the mind and highly addictive) who outlived Lewis by over 11 years. CSL himself was contemporary with some of us and it would be a dreary year if we couldn’t read him. Plus sometimes we have to read the new to appreciate the quality of the old. And (returning to my theme), I again insist: THE OLD IS BETTER.
Rather than simply plead let me commend. I offer two books unfamiliar to some.
The first is by AA Bonar (1810-1892) who came from a remarkable family of Scots Presbyterians. Bonar combined real scholarship (he wrote a commentary on Leviticus which is still in print) with arduous labor in pastoral ministry. His was a godliness which showed itself chiefly by a deep humility. Bonar’s most fervent aim was to please God in all he did, and his most sincere conviction was that he’d fallen woefully short of the mark. He was the friend and biographer of Robert Murray M’Cheyne who is generally regarded as Scotland’s greatest preacher, though he reached heaven before he reached 30. Iain Murray, the Founder/Editor of Banner of Truth Publishers, knows a thing or two about old books. When he was asked to list the most important book Banner had republished he named two. One was Bonar’s biography of M’Cheyne. (The other was Spurgeon’s Autobiography). But it is Bonar’s journals, published in a volume called ‘Diary and Life’, which I put forward. My wife calls it the most spiritual book she ever read, and I would agree.
Though he was a high Calvinist and thus believed everything profitable to us eternally comes solely because of God’s gracious initiation, he could still write:
“I see that we must make EFFORTS if we are to be blessed.” March 29th 1847
Prayer was his great preoccupation yet he warns, “We must not talk about prayer-we must pray in right earnest. The Lord is near. He comes softly while the virgins slumber.”
He knew that it was possible to live with privilege and yet to languish. Consider this: “Last night…nothing shamed me more than the sin of praying little when we might ask in Christ’s Name so much and receive so much. We have stood at the well all day and scarce drawn up a few drops.”
The book is laden as a feast of hearty things like “wine on the lees well refined.”
I also commend ‘Faith and Life’ by BB Warfield (1851-1921) the great Princeton theologian. If Bonar’s book is for the serious Christian then this second volume is for the serious Bible student. The two ought necessarily to go hand in hand should they not? But I fear in practice it is not always so. The book is a record of Warfield’s addresses to his students at Princeton Seminary during informal gatherings on Sunday afternoons. In written form the addresses appear as essays on varied texts linked by a common profundity but otherwise unconnected. For breathtaking insights on verses we thought were familiar the book stands alone in my experience.
When I read the chapter called ‘Light and Shining’ I wondered if I’d ever even remembered anything I’d learned in Bible study. That essay examines the reasons Jesus taught in parables. While reading I realized that still by my mid-fifties the true explanation had eluded me. Most of the teaching is quite accessible e.g. why did the Lord commend child-likeness? Not, Warfield argues, because innocence is the thing desired but rather it is the qualities of dependence and trust which advance us toward the Kingdom. Other lessons are not as easily appropriated and the reader is required to yield something like seminary study itself to benefit from all Warfield offers.
“Not,” he writes, “as if knowledge were the end --life, undoubtedly, is the end at which the saving processes are directed….”
Insights like those served up by Bonar and Warfield are seldom encountered in contemporary writing or preaching.
But because such treasure is still available we must avail.
By availing we may help to mend the age.