(One’s level of piety, whether devotional or
practical, depends much on knowledge being either learned or misconceived. In
these analyses we have made mention, occasionally, of books that either help or
hinder the grand object of piety. It seems natural, consequently, to supplement
the analyses, now and again, with correlating book reports.)
GABOURY’S CRITICAL BOOK REPORT
The sermons in this collection
originally appeared in a periodical called The
Oberlin Evangelist. In spite of Finney’s overt Arminianism, which he holds
in a caustic spirit at times, I found the content of these addresses to be
occasionally beneficial. I was convicted of sometimes doing my Christian duty
in an unhappy spirit, and of being anxious to be done with it (p. 61); of
sometimes avoiding worldliness just out of fear of hell (p. 66); and of too
weakly fulfilling certain conditions of discipleship, like consecration, and
mortification of pet sins (pp. 74, 75.) And I was encouraged to persevere
through my trials by the following admonition: “These are the bright spots in
your history, in which you have an opportunity to make the deepest impression
upon the world” (p. 119.)
Some sharp definitions are laid
down on vital matters in practical theology. On self-denial: “It is no proper
denial of self unless we might benefit by the thing which is given up” (p. 34.) In other words, it will not benefit
you spiritually to give up things that are not hindering your spiritual
progress. Giving up movies, sports, or television, then, will help you a lot.
On cross-bearing: “The true spirit of cross-bearing for the sake of Christ is a
state of mind that feels Christ to be such an all-sufficient portion as to
perfectly satisfy the soul in the absence of everything else” (p. 36.)
There are some thought-provoking
opinions, of which the following may be the best one: “Their selfishness led
the Jews to misunderstand and misinterpret the ceremonial law—to look upon it
as a religion of works. Instead of understanding it to be a system of typical
instruction, by and through which the most spiritual truths were taught….” (p.
230.) That the Jews were expected to meditate on the spiritual significance of
their ceremonies is not something that ever struck me very much until I read
this.
There are some educated
judgments, not just touching upon psychology and physiology separately, but
even concerning how the mind and body relate during spiritual exercise. The high point here is on
page 121. The subject is the need of fasting for the purpose of drawing the mercy
of God: “When the mind is strongly exercised, there is a powerful determination
of blood to the head…food cannot be taken without serious detriment to the
required state of mind. If the blood is diverted from the head to the stomach,
the strong exercise of the mind must necessarily, in a great measure, cease.”
Now that’s just plain doctoral, both medically and spiritually.
There are criticisms leveled at
sins committed in the pulpit in Finney’s time that are even more fitting
reproofs for ministers of our day.
Concerning appeals to sinners to repent, Finney observes, “It often happens
that nearly all the reasons urged by ministers and others to induce people to
become Christians are mere appeals to their selfishness” (p. 176.) Is that not
what’s happening in the evangelical world of our own day? The root cause of
that kind of thing is the fear of man: “Many ministers are afraid of men…Rather
than offend someone, they immediately qualify, explain away and apologize for
what they said until they have neutralized the truth” (p. 219.) Truth is
neutralized by apologies and qualifications; and then sinners are urged to
become Christians for selfish gain! Unless you are singularly blessed, that’s
what’s going on from behind your pulpit.
We need straightforward finger-pointing just like this. Finney even weighs in
against bad pulpit manners: “affected pronunciation…gestures…flattery…angling
for compliments” (p. 217.) How many ministers are brave enough to confront such
pretensions in their peers? Almost no minister will do this because ministers,
generally, love themselves more than they revere God. I am not an admirer of
Finney’s theology; but ethically, at least, he is to be ranked far above your
average 20th/21st century minister. Let’s praise him at
least for that.
I appreciate that he leaves no
room for Christians having an easy go. “Do not infer from your temporal
prosperity that God approves of your course of life or that you are the
favorite of heaven,” he says (p. 32.) Unless your happiness supersedes that
happiness you had gotten by gratification, he continues, you have cause to
doubt your conversion (p. 42.) That may be a good point to ponder. It’s tough
counsel, and we need it. But then he just takes things way too far, and even
insists on sanctification as a condition of salvation. Denying yourself daily, he says, is “an indispensable
condition of salvation” (p. 44.) He is obviously not speaking here, of that
initial sanctification by the Spirit that we call regeneration, but of the
practice of holiness. This is nothing else than to be saved by works, then.
That his theology is Pelagian is beyond question: “You must renounce your
selfishness…You must change your heart”
(p. 81, emphasis added.) That sounds like regeneration by self, or just
self-reformation. Charles Finney’s unorthodoxy is consistent, though, at least
in the following two particulars. He believes that salvation may be lost (p.
94.) That falsehood follows naturally from the belief that salvation is by
works. Also, he teaches some brand of ‘Christian Perfection’: the false belief that man may bring
himself to perfection in this life (pp. 49, 78, 79, 102.) So on the one hand
you can merit your salvation and lose it; on the other, you can save yourself
and perfect yourself too. It’s all up to you, one way or the other—this is his
teaching.
Though his definition of total
depravity is totally incorrect, this
comment will show what Charles Finney is capable of as a stylist: “This is
moral depravity—enmity against God—entire consecration to self-gratification”
(p. 166.) Not bad.
His opinions on Christian
practice vis-à-vis politics are worth reading. But nothing is said there in The Necessity of Human Governments that
has not been more convincingly argued. For the record, Charles Finney spoke out
against the wrongs done by America
to the Indians and the church’s silence about it, and he opposed slavery. Any Union formed upon a principle that would support slavery,
or that would oppose the abolition of it, was boldly and plainly labeled ‘a
league of iniquity’ by him (p. 137.) He also denounced ‘duel-fighting…in
Congress,’ which happened nearly every year in his day (p. 138.) This cultural
context makes the volume peculiarly interesting. Because Charles Finney’s
theology is shady, though, I can just cautiously
recommend this book.
Content: B (Moral, theologically
weak, sometimes heretical.)
Style: B (Occasionally dashing.)
Tone: B (Challenging, but not civil
enough.)
Grading Table: A: a keeper:
reread it; promote it; share it.
B: an average book: let it go.
C: read only if you have to.
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