A Puritan’s greatest spiritual fear was that of self-deception. Jonathan Edwards struggled repeatedly throughout his life with the terrifying thought that he was not truly converted, but had only deluded himself into believing he was. To understand how one who was such a devout student of the Scriptures, and such an ardent advocate of the gospel could be so anxiety-ridden over his own spiritual state we must consider Edwards’ theology. Edwards’ Calvinistic framework shaped his anxiety.
The Puritan tradition of which Edwards was an heir held two firm doctrinal and practical convictions regarding salvation. First, it affirmed the total depravity of man, particularly the wickedness of man’s heart. Edwards did not believe that man was simply sick in his sin and in need of some aid to get better. Rather he believed that man was dead in his sin and needed to be given life. There was no hope of salvation so long as it was dependent upon man’s ability to accomplish some task. No, rather than a works-based salvation, Edwards saw conversion as an act totally of God’s grace and mercy. It was “a divine and supernatural light imparted” to the soul of man. In Edwards’ words, “Conversion is nothing but God’s causing such an alteration with respect to the mind’s ideas of spiritual good.” It was an “infusion” of light, an illumination of the mind, and it was all of God’s work. Man was so depraved, his heart so bent towards sin that he would never choose to come to God. God must first choose him.
The emphasis in the alteration of the mind is important. This divine and supernatural light was meant to give man a “new vision of God.” He writes:
[man sees] things in a new appearance, in quite another view, than ever he saw before: he sees an excellency in God; he sees a sweet loveliness in Christ; he sees an amiableness in holiness and God’s commandments; he sees an excellency in a Christian spirit and temper; he sees a wonderfulness of God’s designs and a harmony in all his ways, a harmony, excellency, and wondrousness in his Word: he sees these things by an eye of faith, and by a new light that was never before let into his mind.
Conversion happens through the transformation of the mind, in Edwards thought and theology. But this poses a problem for the great theologian, since, after all, the minds too has been impacted by sin.
The noetic effects of sin play an important role in the development of Edwards’ anxiety over his own conversion. If depravity had in fact been total, as the Puritan tradition had taught, then this meant too that the minds had been affected by the Fall. We have seen in this series how Edwards affirmed the deceptive nature of sin, and the tool of sinful self-justification that the mind will employ to validate sin. In Puritan thought, then, it was quite possible and perhaps even common to deceive oneself regarding the state of the soul.
Edwards knew this of his own congregation. As he preached in the aftermath of his esteemed grandfather’s death, he urged the congregation to consider how long many of them had sat under such vibrant gospel preaching and had yet remained unconverted. He knew that many his congregation embraced the trappings of religion while they yet held Christ at a distance. Often, he recognized, that many of them were more than capable of deluding themselves. As Strachan and Sweeney write:
Sanctioned by Satan, the nominal Christian possessed all too many resources to deceive themselves about their true spiritual state, whether biblical knowledge, fear of judgment, religiously minded happiness, or other things. (Jonathan Edwards on True Christianity, 69)
But what was true of Edwards’ congregation was no less true of him.
At nine years of age Jonathan had a seeming conversion, but soon after he “entirely lost all those affections and delights,” he wrote, and “returned like a dog to his vomit, and went on in ways of sin.” He had another conversion experience at the age of 16, but it too did not produce an enduring delight in God. It wasn’t until 1721, around the age of 18, that Jonathan finally saw the “excellency of Christ” and believed the gospel for salvation. Here he felt at last that the Spirit of God had awakened him to believe truly, but that did not end his long struggle with assurance. His first diary entry noted that he would still “question my interest in God’s love and favor.” George Marsden writes:
He worried, probably reflecting the concerns of his father, that his experienced did not fit the exact steps of which the Puritan divines spoke. More seriously, he questioned whether his experiences themselves were “sufficiently inward, full, sincere, entire and hearty.” He knew he was “sometimes guilty of sins of omission and commission.” Were his spiritual sensibilities, he asked, “wrought into my very nature,” or were they simply, “hypocritical outside affections, which wicked men may feel.” Was he once again in love with his own raptures? (Jonathan Edwards: A Life, 50)
To help offset and hopefully even end this fear Edwards affirmed a second practical conviction regarding salvation: the importance self-examination.
We’ll look closely next week at Edwards approach to this practice. While I will have some things to say about the nature of Edwards anxiety it’s important here to note that Edwards’ conviction about the nature of sin and the sovereignty of God did not lead him to immediate happiness. His conversion was a long, somewhat painful process for him. There are a few things about the manner of his coming to Christ that the modern church should observe and learn from.
Not all conversions are simple, easy, and joyful. Rosaria Butterfield has written beautifully of the “train-wreck” that was her conversion. She describes her conversion as less like a joyful coming to Christ and more like an invasion of God into her world. She was being “ripped” she says, out of her lesbian relationships, her career in academia, and her reputation as a feminist. She was losing friends, colleagues, and a future. As was the case with Edwards, hers was not a joyful and simple transition. In noting this, then, we should not presume that all conversions are the same, nor that all are simple. Our approach to inviting people to Christ needs to be sensitive to where they are at in life. Our call should be no less serious, no less sincere, no less inviting, nor any less confronting, but it should be sensitive.
We should note too that the emphasis on man’s depravity and God’s sovereignty can and should play a role in communicating the gospel to others. Many gospel presentations today are reductionist, simple, and call for no real wrestling with who we are and/or who God is. Many who invite people to become Christians do not invite them to consider their damnable state. They do not invite them to consider what God has secured for them, and the grace he offers them. We deserve nothing, we receive everything in Christ. This gospel message calls us to more than offering a “best life now” kind of mentality. It calls us to view ourselves and God Biblically. We are sinners deserving hell, God has no obligation to save us. But he offers us salvation in his great love. That ought to be part of our gospel presentation no matter how unsettling it ultimately makes the “seeker.” Jonathan was quite disturbed by these realities, but he would not diminish them in his own communication of the gospel to others.
I think in some ways Edwards was tormented with an unhealthy anxiety, and we will explore that next week. But the church can learn much from his conversion as we seek to call others to this same gospel.
Sparrow & Heart Soul Care 