Jonathan Edwards: The Interrupted Theologian

John Kilpatrick, North Finchley

Jonathan Edwards, who was born three hundred years ago in 1703, was an American theologian whose life and works receive the most astonishing attention today. Interest in his work reaches from the library of books written about his major achievements to analyses of the minute scraps of paper that he was sometimes reduced to writing on. Study of his life encompasses the sublime example of a man expecting great things from God in times of revival and the ridiculous triviality of his love of chocolate revealed by his shopping lists. His dedication to the habit of study did not make him the most socially interesting person of his time, and life in the Edwards household revolved round his wife, Sarah. But Jonathan’s habit of writing everything down, as well as the nature of what he wrote, has left us a legacy that is impossible to ignore.

Edwards deserves our attention on several levels and we are all different in our capacity to appreciate him. So, be warned, not everything written about him is equally worth reading and not everything written by him is equally easy to read. Edwards’ publishers have always wanted to publish the most ‘important’ material first, but just because something is important doesn’t mean that it is the most accessible. We are going to attempt to get to the heart of Edwards’ importance for us by looking at the evidence for the providence of God in his life and particularly in the way God allowed his life and work to be so interrupted. We would have arranged things differently of course, and Edwards would never have wished upon himself some of the experiences he and his family passed through, but ‘God holds the key’ and Edwards’s life shows that we should be glad.

Look at the variety and the severity of some of these interruptions. Edwards was, as a young tutor at Yale, beginning to tackle the philosophical innovations of the Enlightenment and their dangers when he was called away to be a pastor. Responding to the biggest theological threat of his day, Arminianism, he had almost finished an important book when he was interrupted by the arrival of a very sick young man, David Brainerd, who died in Edwards’ house. Edwards and his congregation had passed through two seasons of revival together but when he began to put his developed (and orthodox) views on church government into practice, they dismissed him. Newly appointed as the President of the College of New Jersey (later Princeton) and preparing to complete work on not one but two massive works of theology he was inoculated against smallpox but was infected and died.

Edwards’ neglect of his early philosophical studies has been lamented by scholars ever since in the measure that they have failed to appreciate his Calvinism. For them, it was a waste of Edwards’ talents for him to be preparing sermons when he could have been improving on John Locke, understanding Isaac Newton and building on his own observations of natural history. For those of us who appreciate the doctrines of grace, however, it is a simple thing to be smarter than the scholars. If Edwards had been left to study in a peaceful ivory tower he might have written some important books, but if he had not seen revival come to his congregation and then end when one of his church members cut his own throat, he could not have written the most valuable book on Christian experience outside the Bible itself. As for these disappointed scholars … it’s a pity they haven’t found themselves in the third part of the Religious Affections because then they might truly understand Edwards’s greatness.

David Brainerd was a diarist and when he died of tuberculosis Edwards judged that editing his deceased friend’s Journal was more important than finishing his own book. The book that Edwards put aside was his famous Freedom of the Will which is found at the beginning of both currently available sets of his Works but rather than read it first, most of us should treat it like Edwards himself did and defer reading it. Does that mean that reading Brainerd’s Journal should be high on our priorities? Perhaps not. His soul-searching is not to everybody’s taste, but we should be aware of its place in history and of how it gave impetus to so many young missionaries to venture everything for Christ.

Edwards himself became a missionary, quite unexpectedly, when it might have been thought that a man of his talents should have been otherwise engaged. He never did learn the language but the Indians trusted him like they did few white men and he was able to do a great deal for them. Ironic then that the opportunity to serve in this way came because his congregation back in Northampton did not trust him to lead them into a more disciplined approach to qualifications for taking the Lord’s Supper. They refused even to read his book far less hear him preach on the subject but his ‘Qualifications for Communion’ should be required reading for ‘strict’ Baptist pastors and that might help us to be worthy of the trust we need.

That God should consent to the removal by death of such a useful servant when there seemed to be so much of his work still waiting to be done might seem inexplicable. Do we have any right to complain that he didn’t live to finish his big projects when some of his writings are still being published for the first time now? Edwards was serene through some of the most wrenching changes that a ministerial career could take and he would certainly not have raged against the final interruption of his work. Perhaps he would have had us turn away from regrets over the loss of his big books (though there are huge parts of them available in print) to read one of his smaller works. It’s usually called ‘An Humble Attempt’ but it’s a call for extraordinary prayer to promote revival. It has good claims to have been the most influential thing he ever wrote and Christian Focus have just republished it. Perhaps we should read it and trust God to interrupt our lives as well.