Was John Owen a Charismatic?

Packer says that the Puritans differ from evangelicals today because with them,

" ... communion with God was a great thing, to evangelicals today it is a comparatively small thing. The Puritans were concerned about communion with God in a way that we are not. The measure of our unconcern is the little that we say about it. When Christians meet, they talk to each other about their Christian work and Christian interests, their Christian acquaintances, the state of the churches, and the problems of theology—but rarely of their daily experience of God" [1]

You may not know but I have a simple little definition for what I call a charismatic. No it does not have to do with Rolex, spiritual pride, white pinstriped suits or God forbid, a little “shaba shaba” in the middle of a sermon. I picked it up from a guy across the pond in England, it goes something like this “Those who recognize that the gift of the Spirit is to be received and the gifts of the Spirit are to be exercised.”

Lately I have been reading John Owen’s Communion with The Triune God, while much thesis reading is laborious. This little work has got me toe taping happy. Through it I kept asking myself, was Owen Charismatic? (remember my definition not white suits and money) while I know this is relatively anachronistic to ask if John Owen was a charismatic I can not help but find it very interesting indeed.

Owens like John Piper and Martyn Lloyd-Jones, he makes a clear distinction between the work of the Spirit in saving us and another “often undefined” experiential work that is available to those who desire a dynamic relationship with God. Here is how the introduction to Communion with The Triune God explains this

“. . . when Owen unpacks the work of the Spirit, he makes a distinction between the Spirit being received in terms of “sanctification” and the Spirit’s work of “consolation.” When he refers to sanctification in this context he means the work whereby the Spirit sets us apart, uniting us to Christ and making us alive. This is “a mere passive reception, as a vessel receives water.” This is the movement from being outside the kingdom of God to becoming a child of the King.

When Owen speaks of the Spirit’s work of consolation, he has in mind the comforting activity of the Spirit in the life of the believer. Christians need not be passive in the hope that the Spirit will bring comfort; rather, they should (1) seek his comfort by focusing on the promises of God realized in the Spirit, (2) call out to the Spirit of supplication to bring consolation, and (3) attend “to his motions,” which take us to the Father and Son. In all of this we rightly and actively receive him who freely comes to bring comfort and grace. Again, our union with God in Christ is never in jeopardy, but our sense of fellowship with God does necessitate appropriate human agency and response.

Keeping in mind Owen’s distinction between union and communion, one is better able to make sense of his conclusion: “The Spirit as a sanctifier comes with power, to conquer an unbelieving heart; the Spirit as a comforter comes with sweetness, to be received in a believing heart.” Though the Spirit will never abandon a believer, it should not surprise us that neglecting such receptivity to the Spirit’s movement compromises our sense of intimacy. For Owen, grace must be understood as the ground of this relationship, from first to last, from justification to preservation of the saints, from God’s acceptance of us to his glorifying the saints—grace is the bottom of the entire understanding of the saints’ security and privilege before God. This grace, however, demands rather than denies human response” [2]

So I leave the question Open, as it should remain. It really is kind of a silly question. Anyone that knows me should know I am not for this or that camp, as definitive of the kingdom. I want to be for the church and for the kingdom. I have had some friends over the years confuse my desire for them to take hold of communion with God as call to become like me or affirming of a certain group, that is has never been my intent. I desire to encourage others to be radically, revolutionarily, and risky in their seeking the spirit’s consolation and their responsive and relational awareness to the Spirit. All I ask and encourage is what I have always encouraged a relentless seeking of God, who will make himself known (in many varied ways) to them that seek with all their heart. So they may have all God wants for them in Christ and all of Christ is glorified in them.

I mean, Come On! Anything less is sin whatever you label it.


[1] J. I. Packer, A Quest for Godliness: The Puritan Vision of the Christian Life, (Wheaton: Crossway Books, 1990), 215.

[2] Owen, John. Communion With the Triune God, Eds. Kelly M. Kapic and Justin Taylor, (Crossway Books, Wheaton, Illinois, 2007) 22-23

The Smell of Lemons

Sometimes life is less than life. Most of the time life is less than living. We all know, life can get the best of us with its semi-transparent joys and resonating pain. The little dayly tragedies chip away at our resolution till we slowly bow to them and live beneath who we could be. Further, In the mix of a day full of simple joys and dizzying busyness, what triumphs we find can be fleeting clouds blown away by the necessities of the day. Things can get gray. Life becomes remiss of beauty. Living becomes a discipline of distraction. Each day can become a half life of dreams unrealized. Under such oppression, existing is the best many can do when darkness punches you in the face and dares you to get up! In those moments, less feeling souls may say, "When life gives you lemons go make lemonade." Such clichés are both trite and uncaring, yet I can’t help but smell the fain odor of reality.

Sometimes a song is more than a song. It can be an analogy of life itself. A song like human moments are measured out and ordered to reveal a purposeful harmony that was there all along, Hidden between the moments, in the breathless spaces between words. And in our hearing like in our living, a poetic 'Good' is uncovered; in lyric and harmony this 'good' that we feel in our bones is disclosed. A good that is felt by human hearts and marked by divine work. A good that is woven through pain and redeemed in joy by divine hands. Hands that still show the scars and splinters of pain personally realized. Jesus Hands that stream healing and open to reveal a good that withholds more pain than we know. Hands that sovereignly hold back a flood of suffering that could drown us if not for His power. Yet in our pain this secret escape, this "it could be worse if not for the grace of God" is often forgotten. And even in our forgetfulness the hands still heal, the hands still hold, the hands still write the music life itself sets its rhythms too. And in little ways, a Song can show this 'Good' even, in our pain, even if it hurts.

Sometimes a song is more than a song. It is a string on your finger, a reminder of some person. You smile with mixed glee at the fleeting memory of who they are to you. What often goes “unknotted” is how they in little ways, made you. How events may have impacted you but they changed you. When I here the song below my sister, Jill comes to mind. Jill was a victim of domestic violence. Hurt by one that clammed to love, she rose from the ash, healed from the bruises, and walked away; retaining her dignity and protecting the life of her baby girl. Jill didn’t just make lemonade. She bought stock in Kool Ade. Today she is on the offensive as a legal advocate for battered women; fighting relentlessly to insure women receive the dignity afforded them as the crowning art of God's creative act. She stands up for those whom Jesus called the 'least of these', resisting drunken rednecks, death threats, and shotguns in her face, even governmental lobbyist. Vowing to protect and pull women and children from abusive life threatening situations. She taught me how a cliché could resonate with relentless truth when God is your backbone and justice your shield. I love my sisters, I love Jill and every time I hug her I smell lemons.

Sometimes life is less than life.

Sometimes a song is more than a song.

Sometimes you smell lemons.