Of Mountains and Rivers

Standing before a group of ministers gathered in Philadelphia on November 27, 1933, J. Gresham Machen read an essay he had written. The topic was perhaps surprising given Machen’s stature as a theologian and the church wars in which he was embroiled at the time. The essay was neither about the nature of true faith nor about the dreadful effects of liberalism. It was not about the virgin birth or the infallibility of the Scriptures or the origin of Paul’s religion. We can imagine a group of ministers hanging on every word if the topic had been any one of those mentioned. For that reason, “Mountains and Why We Love Them” might seem to have been far removed from the concerns of the day, but nothing could have been further from the truth.

Machen begins his essay in a most unassuming manner, asking the question, “What right have I to speak about mountain-climbing?” and answering, “The answer is very simple. I have none whatever. I have, indeed, been in the Alps four times.” Machen viewed himself a novice by comparison to those guides upon whom he depended to ascend mountain peaks; but he loved mountains, and of this he wrote. In Machen’s own words, his essay is not about the mountains, per se, but “about the love of the mountains.”

So it is then that for several minutes, Machen shared his love of the mountains. He spoke in the first person, describing his ascent in the Alps near Zermatt, endeavoring as it were to bring us along on a novice climb to enjoy the heights with him. But ever so humbly, J. Gresham Machen demonstrates again why he is considered by many to be a mountaineer of the first rank in the church, having led them to see things clearly from on high. Indeed, even here, by essay’s end, we the hearers and readers are with Machen looking out from the summit of the Matterhorn upon the vista of the world and the entire scope of human history, seeing things from the lofty vantage point of God and His grace. Machen writes,

What will be the end of that European civilization, of which I had a survey from my mountain vantage ground—of that European civilization and its daughter in America? What does the future hold in store? Will Luther prove to have lived in vain? Will all the dreams of liberty issue into some vast industrial machine? Will even nature be reduced to standard, as in our country the sweetness of the woods and hills is being destroyed, as I have seen them destroyed in Maine, by the uniformities and artificialities and officialdom of our national parks? Will the so-called "Child Labor Amendment" and other similar measures be adopted, to the destruction of all the decencies and privacies of the home? Will some dreadful second law of thermodynamics apply in the spiritual as in the material realm? Will all things in church and state be reduced to one dead level, coming at last to an equilibrium in which all liberty and all high aspirations will be gone? Will that be the end of all humanity's hopes? I can see no escape from that conclusion in the signs of the times; too inexorable seems to me to be the march of events. No, I can see only one alternative. The alternative is that there is a God—a God who in His own good time will bring forward great men again to do His will, great men to resist the tyranny of experts and lead humanity out again into the realms of light and freedom, great men, above all, who will be messengers of His grace. There is, far above any earthly mountain peak of vision, a God high and lifted up who, though He is infinitely exalted, yet cares for His children among men.

I too love mountains. In my high school speech class my ‘persuasive speech” was an endeavor to convince the class that the mountains were the place to go. Vacations for me growing up meant a four hour drive to the Allegheny Mountains in the northern tier of Pennsylvania. My dad had a cabin in the mountains, well actually an old bus that was terminally parked on a mountain-top on a small plot of land adjoining the great woods of the mountains, where we hunted, and hiked, and fished, especially fished.

The memories vividly remain. Once in a small woodland clearing, we saw a pair of fox pups, playfully sparring with one another on their hind feet. One spring day, I recall hiking toward a mountain stream and coming upon a newborn fawn nestled beside a log in the woods, not daring to leap from its ‘hiding’, but its tiny nose twitching in my direction. And another time, crawling on hands and knees to approach a promising-looking fishing hole, I eventually glanced up to see a huge, shimmering black bear sitting on her haunches just a few feet across the stream from me, watching my every move.

I love mountains, but I also love rivers and I love fly-fishing. Taking my cue from Machen, I might ask what right have I to write about river fly-fishing? The answer is very simple. I have none whatever. Oh sure, I have watched A River Runs Through It several times and read Norman Maclean’s tiny novella that lies behind it. Indeed I have, dampened my wading boots in some pretty impressive streams like the Yellow Breeches Creek and the Letort Spring Run in Pennsylvania, the Nantahala River in North Carolina, the Arkansas River in Colorado, and the White River in Arkansas. As a youngster I even waded clear across the Allegheny River near Tidioute years before the Kinzua Dam changed that fishery forever and there cast my Heddon Midget River Runt Spook (What a great name for a lure!).

But the number of trout I have caught on a fly on those and a score of other streams in my lifetime, all combined, probably would not equal the best single day catch in the life of a top-notch fly fishing guide. Yes, I have read a number of books and articles (more than I would like to admit) on fly fishing, fly casting, and fly tying, and even dabbled in stream entomology (the study of insects); and the flies I have tied have actually snagged an occasional trout or two. And yes, I have reflected on environmental issues and the importance of conserving fresh, flowing waters, have joined Trout Unlimited and have sent off a few letters to congressmen and senators. I have even read The River Why, another book about to make its way to theaters everywhere, describing a young man’s quest for the meaning of life set against the backdrop of a river and fly-fishing, before it became a movie.

But why do I love rivers? Rivers are full of life. Rivers are refreshing. Rivers start somewhere and they go somewhere with lots of changes along the way, gaining volume, increasing momentum, irresistibly drawing things along in their path. Around every bend is something new, a new turn, a new view, a new opportunity. I guess that’s why I never quite knew when to turn back on a day of fishing. One more promising hole, one more sunken tree, one more undercut bank, just one more cast might offer up the trout of the day.

Why is it that standing in a mall, within minutes my back stiffens, my legs ache, and I am ready to make a dash for the parking lot? But let me stand in a river or stream, and for some odd reason I am able to stand for hours, perhaps even glued to the same spot and never once think about my back or legs? And why is that crossing a stream, I have this sudden urge to flip over rocks to see what is clinging underneath?

I think I will always cherish the little runs and brooks, the tiny, gurgling and clear-as-crystal mountain springs that emerge out of the rock of a mountain slope. There, you might bend the knee to take a sip of the coldest, clearest, and sweetest water the earth has to offer up. First making its way down a little crevice, it begins cascading over boulders and logs, creating little nooks guarded by native brook trout that snatch every bite size morsel that dares intrude. Streams so narrow, you can step across or wade barely wetting the top side of your boot, yet there beneath miniature waterfalls, a little brookie would in a flash, dart out of nowhere to rip into a worm or a sunken fly and then race for cover. I always want to go back there.

But streams and rivers, like life and time, never turn back. Did you know there is a river that runs through the Scriptures that appears in the beginning, flows through the pages of history, and reaches out to eternity? Here are three texts to consider, one from the beginning, one from the middle, and one from the end of the Bible:

• Genesis 2:10 "Now a river flowed out of Eden to water the garden; and from there it divided and became four rivers."
• Psalm 46:4"There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God, The holy dwelling places of the Most High."
• Revelation 22:1-2 "Then he showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming from the throne of God and of the Lamb, in the middle of its street (On either side of the river was the tree of life, bearing twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit every month; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.
  

In the beginning God provided refreshment to the Garden He had made. His word speaks of the life and blessing He offers as refreshment to His people. It is no accident that the revelation of God in the flesh, the Lord Jesus Christ, speaks of Himself as the "living water." It is He who gives life and refreshment in a dry and thirsty land. It is He who waters the garden; it is He who makes glad the city of God; it is who He brings healing to the nations. The river precedes time, He appears in history; He goes somewhere; He has an end, a destination. So do we have an end, a destination, in Him--"to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever."

R. Daniel Knox

P.S. Dedicated to my Dad, who in large measure helped to instill in me a love for mountains and rivers.

A River Runs Through It

A River Runs Through It--what is it about the movie that captures our attention and imagination? The artistry of fly fishing? The beauty of Montana? The aspirations and recollections of youth? The love story? The tragic life? Or the mystery of a river that runs through it?

I love rivers. I also love fly-fishing, even though I am not particularly good at it. But the book and the movie are about more than just fly-fishing.

Sixteen years before the movie had been produced, I had read a quote in a fishing magazine, not even realizing at the time that it was from the book A River Runs Through It. It was a fly-fishing columnist picking up on the humorous impression that a particular fly-fishing, Presbyterian minister had left upon his sons.

Listen to the author Norman Maclean:

"In our family, there was no clear line between religion and fly fishing. We lived at the junction of great trout rivers in western Montana, and our father was a Presbyterian minister and a fly fisherman who tied his own flies and taught others. He told us about Christ's disciples being fishermen, and we were left to assume, as my brother and I did, that all first-class fishermen were fly fishermen and that John, the favorite, was a dry-fly fisherman."

The quote in the magazine ended there; but the book, I would discover years later, goes further.

"It is true that one day a week was given over wholly to religion. On Sunday mornings my brother, Paul, and I went to Sunday school and then to "morning services" to hear our father preach and then in the evening to Christian Endeavor and afterwards to "evening services" to hear our father preach again. In between on Sunday afternoons we had to study The Westminster Shorter Catechism for an hour and then recite before we could walk the hills with him while he unwound between services. But he never asked us more than the first question in the catechism, "What is the chief end of man?" And we answered together so one of us could carry on if the other forgot, "Man's chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever." This always seemed to satisfy him, as indeed such a beautiful answer should have, and besides he was anxious to be on the hills where he could restore his soul and be filled again to overflowing for the evening sermon. His chief way of recharging himself was to recite to us from the sermon that was coming, enriched here and there with selections from the most successful passages of his morning sermon.

“Even so, in a typical week of our childhood Paul and I probably received as many hours of instruction in fly fishing as we did in all other spiritual matters."

But wait! Is fly fishing a spiritual matter? Is that just a clever turn of phrase? Or does it mean we give ourselves to things of this world with religion-like fervor? Or is fly fishing or writing a book or producing a film a spiritual matter? Is going to school or the office or the factory or raising the children a spiritual matter? What is not a spiritual matter? Or to put it another way, is there one cubic inch in the universe that does not belong to God? Does not even a river tell us something about the God who made it? Hear Maclean also in his concluding lines:

"Of course, now I am too old to be much of a fisherman, and now I course I usually fish the big waters alone, although some friends think I shouldn't. Like many fly fishermen in western Montana where the summer days are almost Arctic in length, I often do not start fishing until the cool of the evening. Then in the Arctic half-light of the canyon, all existence fades to a being with my soul and memories and the sounds of the Big Blackfoot River and a four-count rhythm and the hope that a fish will rise.

"Eventually, all thing merge into one, and a river runs through it. The river was cut by the world's great flood and runs over rocks from the basement of time. On some of the rocks are timeless raindrops. Under the rocks are the words, and some of the words are theirs.

"I am haunted by waters."

Beautiful! The longing for the transcendent. Did you know there is a river that runs through the Scriptures that appears in the beginning, flows through the pages of history, and reaches out to eternity? Here are three texts to consider, one from the beginning, one from the middle, and one from the end of the Bible:

Genesis 2:10 "Now a river flowed out of Eden to water the garden; and from there it divided and became four rivers."

Psalm 46:4
"There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,The holy dwelling places of the Most High."

Revelation 22:1-2 "Then he showed me a river of the water of life, clear as crystal, coming from the throne of God and of the Lamb, in the middle of its street (On either side of the river was the tree of life, bearing twelve kinds of fruit, yielding its fruit every month; and the leaves of the tree were for the healing of the nations.

In the beginning God provided refreshment to the Garden He had made. His word speaks of the life and blessing He offers as refreshment to His people. It is no accident that the revelation of God in the flesh, the Lord Jesus Christ, speaks of Himself as the "living water." It is He who gives life and refreshment in a dry and thirsty land. It is He who waters the garden; it is He who makes glad the city of God; it is who He brings healing to the nations. The river precedes time, He appears in history; He goes somewhere; He has an end, a destination. So do we have an end, a destination, in Him--"to glorify God and to enjoy Him forever."

The Guide to Fishers of Men

I just caught on cable a few minutes of the Outdoor Channel program "Adventure Guides:Fishing Edition." The host is John Dietsch, the expert who taught Brad Pitt a bit of of fly fishing and then doubled for Pitt in the climactic fishing scene in "A River Runs Through It." Tonight's episode focused on fly fishing guides, who for a fee take their clients on the prime trout rivers of Colorado, teaching them to become fly fishers.

On this good Friday, I would rather speak of The Guide to Fishers of Men, Himself the Chief of Fishers, who said, "Come, follow Me; and I will make you fishers of men."

Is Jesus God? Are those who deny Christ's deity really Christians and should we fellowship with them in the church? Such questions were posed to me recently by an honest inquirer.

Here's my answer:

Your questions immediately bring to mind the book Christianity and Liberalism written by J. Gresham Machen in 1923.

As you may know, Machen was a professor at Princeton Theological Seminary from 1915-1929 and at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia from 1929-1937. He witnessed firsthand the effects of liberalism and a lack of church discipline that impacted the Presbyterian Church in the USA in those days. One of the issues that particularly drew his attention was the fact that the PCUSA was sending out missionaries who did not affirm the essential tenets of the Christian faith, like the deity of Christ.

In Christianity and Liberalism, as the title itself suggests, Machen argued that Christianity and liberalism were in fact different religions. As you suggest, Christianity without the Christ who is the eternal Son of the Father, the great "I am" who existed before Abraham, the Word of God by whom and through whom all things were created and who became flesh in the fullness of time, is simply a contradiction in terms.

Machen’s stand against liberalism eventually led to a separation and to the formation of the Orthodox Presbyterian Church in 1936. Machen and others refused to accommodate themselves to those who denied Christ. Machen himself was defrocked by the PCUSA for his refusal to support the liberal agenda, but his courage and willingness to suffer loss for the sake of Christ has been an encouragement to many others to stand faithfully for Christ. The OPC has understood her calling to “to go to (Jesus) outside the camp and bear the reproach He endured” (Hebrews 13:13).

True Christianity affirms Jesus as the King of kings, the Lord of lords, who was and is and ever more shall be and to whom all authority in heaven and on earth has been given. He the Lord's Anointed, the Prophet, Priest, and King to whom the whole of Scripture points. He is the Lamb slain from the foundation of the world. He has returned to the glory that He had with the Father before the world began. He powerfully and effectively loved the Church and gave Himself up for her that she might be saved and share in His glory. He has been raised in resurrection body to ascend to heaven at the right hand of the Father.

The Westminster Confession of Faith, the Orthodox Presbyterian Church’s official statement of faith, speaks to your question regarding the deity of Christ in chapter IX, “Of Christ the Mediator,” especially in sections 2 and 3 which read as follows:

2. The Son of God, the second person in the Trinity, being very and eternal God, of one substance and equal with the Father, did, when the fullness of time was come, take upon him man's nature, with all the essential properties, and common infirmities thereof, yet without sin; being conceived by the power of the Holy Ghost, in the womb of the virgin Mary, of her substance. So that two whole, perfect, and distinct natures, the Godhead and the manhood, were inseparably joined together in one person, without conversion, composition, or confusion. Which person is very God, and very man, yet one Christ, the only Mediator between God and man.
3. The Lord Jesus, in his human nature thus united to the divine, was sanctified, and anointed with the Holy Spirit, above measure, having in him all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge; in whom it pleased the Father that all fullness should dwell; to the end that, being holy, harmless, undefiled, and full of grace and truth, he might be thoroughly furnished to execute the office of a mediator, and surety. Which office he took not unto himself, but was thereunto called by his Father, who put all power and judgment into his hand, and gave him commandment to execute the same.

Remember the strong instruction and exhortation of the short epistle of II John, especially verses 7-11 which says,

"For many deceivers have gone out into the world, those who do not confess the coming of Jesus Christ in the flesh. Such a one is the deceiver and the antichrist. Watch yourselves, so that you may not lose what we have worked for, but may win a full reward. Everyone who goes on ahead and does not abide in the teaching of Christ, does not have God. Whoever abides in the teaching has both the Father and the Son. If anyone comes to you and does not bring this teaching, do not receive him into your house or give him any greeting, for whoever greets him takes part in his wicked works.”

As the apostle Paul writes in II Corinthians 6: 14-15, “Do not be unequally yoked with unbelievers. For what partnership has righteousness with lawlessness? Or what fellowship has light with darkness? What accord has Christ with Belial? Or what portion does a believer share with an unbeliever?” This passage speaks to church membership and to marriage. Believers should be equally yoked, believers joined to believers. The cup and the bread we share at the Lord’s Supper testify that we are holily joined to the God-man Jesus Christ and to one another in Him. The church, holy and catholic (that is, worldwide), is His body, and the church is to be composed of those who believe in Him and their children. Those children are to be brought up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.

As Christians, then, in love, we call men, women, and children everywhere to repent of their sin and rebellion and to embrace Jesus Christ with us, as He is so freely offered to us in the gospel. He is named Jesus, which means “Jehovah (or Yahweh) saves.” “God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life” (John 3:16).

Blessings to you in the name of the Resurrected Son of God,
Dan