SERMON 140: The Promise of Understanding
An Introductory Comment


Here is a young don's comment on the problem of the limits and promise of rational understanding. It was first preached in All Saints, Oxford, November 1, 1730, which is also to say, almost a year after his return to Oxford from Epworth and about the same time that his group of friends had become known as 'the Holy Club'. In it much is foreshadowed of what will mature into the later Wesley's theories of religious knowledge and experience. His main concern here is the special sin of intellectual pride, as he could see it in an academic community wherein the triumphs of rationalism (especially in Newtonian astronomy and Lockean philosophy) had stirred up much confidence in the human ability to wrest usable knowledge not only from ignorance but even from the divine mystery.

Wesley is careful not to deny the latent capacities of intelligence. What he means to stress is its limited range of certain and secure knowledge. By this sort of 'hiding pride from man', he hopes to prompt a humbler faith in revelation and intuition (what we 'shall know hereafter'). Thus, he takes a sceptical view of the Newtonians' claim that their theories of gravity can provide empirically verifiable, universal laws applicable to all physical phenomena. This is also his earliest statement of the body-soul dualism which, later, he developed so much more fully. Even here, however, it is expressed in a stark dichotomy. The positive intent of such critical reservations was the promotion of humility―the precondition, in his view, of what he calls 'the usefullest knowledge'.

There is, therefore, an implicit 'promise of understanding' in the Christian life of faith and devotion which accustoms the believer to the paradoxes of grace. One of these paradoxes gets a sketchy analysis here: viz., the Christian's certainty of the sovereignty of grace, coupled with a radical uncertainty about any alleged rational explanation of how and why God acts, in given cases. Another of Wesley's concerns here is the age-old bafflement of the Christian in the face of the problem of evil. That he was already preoccupied with what he calls 'this mighty question' may be seen in three letters to his father, in this same period (December 19, 1729; December 11, 1730; and January 15, 1731).1 Thus, even at this early stage, Wesley had recognized theodicy as a crucial test case for both faith and doctrine. He would doubtless have heard of the famous controversy about theodicy between G. W. Leibnitz and Dr. Samuel Clarke, in the years 1715-16, but he did not read the actual texts until 1775. Even though there are Leibnitzian echoes in the early Wesley's thought, the same Wesley grown old would harshly condemn Leibnitz as 'a thorough fatalist', adding, 'So poor a writer have I seldom read, either as to sentiments or temper.'2

A manuscript of this sermon has survived, in Charles Wesley's handwriting, on the rectos of sixteen numbered leaves, now in the Methodist Archives, Manchester. At the end, there is a shorthand note: 'Transcribed at Frederica, May 7, 1736, from my brother's copy'. John's diary indicates that he had composed the sermon in the period between September 26 and October 13, 1730, and that he had preached it the following November 1. In 1816, a heavily edited version would be published, without title, as No. VI in Sermons by the late Rev. Charles Wesley; it is worth comparing with the original text presented here.

4
He riseth from supper, and laid aside his garments; and took a towel, and girded himself.
5 After that he poureth water into a bason, and began to wash the disciples' feet, and to wipe them with the towel wherewith he was girded.
6 Then cometh he to Simon Peter: and Peter saith unto him, Lord, dost thou wash my feet?
7 Jesus answered and said unto him, What I do thou knowest not now; but thou shalt know hereafter.
8 Peter saith unto him, Thou shalt never wash my feet. Jesus answered him, If I wash thee not, thou hast no part with me.
9 Simon Peter saith unto him, Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head.
10 Jesus saith to him, He that is washed needeth not save to wash his feet, but is clean every whit: and ye are clean, but not all.
11 For he knew who should betray him; therefore said he, Ye are not all clean.
12 So after he had washed their feet, and had taken his garments, and was set down again, he said unto them, Know ye what I have done to you?
13 Ye call me Master and Lord: and ye say well; for so I am.

The Promise of Understanding
John 13:7

What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.


[1.] In the thirteenth chapter of the Gospel according to St. John, at the seventh verse, it is thus written: 'What I do thou knowest not now, but thou shalt know hereafter.'

[2.] It is easy to observe that one of the earliest principles in the soul of man is a desire of knowledge.1 This often attains to considerable strength before reason shakes off its infant weakness. This it is which insensibly leads us on to improve and perfect our reason, which, by the present pleasure it gives, encourages us to seek, and makes us capable of receiving, more.

[3.] So long as this is contained within proper bounds and directed to proper objects, there is scarce in the mind of man a more delightful or more useful inclination. The pleasures it yields are without number; the field of knowledge hath no end; and in almost every part of it springs up some plant not only pleasing to the eyes and rejoicing the heart, but of use to make one wise, to give the true wisdom, to enlighten the eyes,2 to enlarge the heart, to make us see the all-wise, the all-merciful God in every one even of these his lowest works.

[4.] 'Tis true, this source of generous, lasting pleasure may by accident give us much pain, if our desires either fix on improper objects―on any of those parts of knowledge which, as they were not designed for man in this station, cannot be obtained by him till his removal into another―or if his desire of useful knowledge, even of knowing his Creator, be not kept within proper bounds. He who lays out his search even on the ways of God, and will not be content till he has searched them out throughly, will not be satisfied till he knows them all, will never be content, never satisfied on this side the grave. For what soul is that which, clogged with flesh and blood,3 can find out the Almighty to perfection?4 No, it will not be; we may trust what God himself affirms of the ways of God: 'What I do thou canst not know now, but thou shalt know hereafter.'

[5.] This assertion, though uttered by our Lord upon a particular occasion to one of his disciples, may, if well understood and duly remembered, be of great use to all his followers. Should a perplexing thought arise in any of our hearts touching any of the ways of God, or the reasons of them, should our soul be troubled because unable to comprehend them, we may immediately silence it with this reflection: 'Peace; this is an unavoidable evil. What God doth thou canst not know now. Or rather, it is no evil at all, for thou shalt know hereafter.'
Man cannot know now, either

I, first, how God works in numberless cases which are daily before his eyes, or

II, secondly, why other things are done by him which yet he is fully sensible are done. After having mentioned a few instances of our ignorance in each of these particulars,

III, I intend, thirdly, to offer some reasons why we may suppose this ignorance to be our portion; why God has pleased to ordain that, as to most of his ways, we cannot know them till hereafter.

I.1. First, we cannot know till hereafter how God works in many cases which are daily before our eyes. We know not, for instance, how it is that he holds the world in its present state, 'how he spreadeth the north over the empty space, and hangeth the earth upon nothing';5 'how he teacheth the sun his certain seasons, and maketh the moon still to know his going down';6 how he sustaineth those other great lights which continually float in the firmament of heaven; how he balances them, so that no force can shake them, and so ranges their innumerable armies that every one keeps his appointed station, and constantly runs his appointed race; that though each of them has moved so many thousands of years, with that inconceivable swiftness, yet each still preserves exactly its due rank, its due distance from all others; that amidst the infinite variety of their motions there is the most perfect regularity; no confusion, no injuring each other, but all is order, harmony, and peace.

It is true, they who are too knowing to own they know nothing of it, say all this is done by a power unknown to the old philosophers; that this holds the universe together, and all the hosts of heaven keep their courses because they continually gravitate7 with such a determinate force towards each other. How clearly do these explain the ways of God! How satisfactorily do they declare the thing as it is! We grant all things do gravitate towards each other with a force proportioned to their quantity of matter. That this is done we know: but we ask how it is done. We ask what this gravity is. What is this secret chain by which all parts of the universe are so firmly and durably connected? What is this universal spring to which all earth and heaven submit? What is this attraction, this tendency in every natural body to approach to every other? We know it is the law of nature; it is the finger of God,8 and here our knowledge ends.

2. Not that we need go up to heaven or down to the deep for instances of man's ignorance in the ways of God; they are nigh thee, even in thy heart;9 nay, in the most inconsiderable, the most obvious parts of thy own body. Who knoweth how God holdeth his soul in life? How he encloseth spirit in matter? How he so intimately joins two substances of so totally different natures? How he who established it at first, so still preserves that exact dependence of one on the other? Who knows how the thought of his inmost soul immediately strikes the outmost part of his body? How an impression made on the outmost part of his body immediately strikes his inmost soul? How a consciousness in the mind of having done anything amiss instantly spreads a blush over the cheek? How the prick of a needle on the hand immediately occasions a painful thought in the soul?10

Man is all a mystery to himself.11 That God does work wonderfully in him he knows, but the manner of his working he cannot know; it is too wonderful for his present capacity. Whether he surveys his own hand or heart or head, he sees numberless footsteps of the Almighty; but vainly does he attempt to trace them up to their spring: 'clouds and darkness are round about it.'12

[3.] As vainly does man attempt to search out how God works in him the life of grace. The springs whence we draw spiritual life are at least as unsearchable as those of the natural. That it is the Divine Spirit 'who worketh in us both to will and to do of his good pleasure',13 of this, experience, and reason, and Scripture convince every sincere inquirer. But how he worketh this in us, who shall tell? Who shall point out his particular methods of working? This indeed we know, that when the passions are laid, and our souls are calm and still, then chiefly the Spirit of God loves to move upon the face of the waters;14 yet are we not able to explain how he moves. Darkness is upon the face of the deep.15 'The wind bloweth', as our Lord observes, 'where it listeth, and thou hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, nor whither it goeth.'16

[4.] If there be any particular work of the Holy Spirit which we can tell less of than of the rest, it seems to be his influencing one person in answer to the prayers of another. That he does pour a larger measure of his blessed influence upon us at the request of those in whom he is well pleased he hath given us sufficient ground to believe in several places of Holy Scripture. That of St. James is express: 'Confess your faults one to another, and pray for one another that ye may be healed. The effectual fervent prayer of a righteous man availeth much.'17 But how it avails we cannot explain. How God acts upon us in consequence of our friends' prayers, the manner of his returning the intercession of the one into the bosom of the other, we cannot know.

II. Nor yet is the manner wherein God acts in any of these particulars more perfectly unknown to the wisest of men than are the reasons whereon he acts in others. To produce a few instances of this truth was the second thing I proposed, to mention some things of which we cannot say why they are, though we are sure they are done.

1. And first, we cannot say why God suffered evil to have a place in his creation; why he, who is so infinitely good himself, who made all things 'very good',18 and who rejoices in the good of all his creatures, permitted what is so entirely contrary to his own nature, and so destructive of his noblest works. 'Why are sin and its attendant pain in the world?' has been a question ever since the world began; and the world will probably end before human understandings have answered it with any certainty.
It has indeed been well observed, that all evil is either natural, moral, or penal;19 that natural evil or pain is no evil at all if it be overbalanced with following pleasure; that moral evil, or sin, cannot possibly befall anyone unless those who willingly embrace, who choose it; and that penal evil, or punishment, cannot possibly befall any unless they likewise choose it by choosing sin. This entirely cuts off all imputation on the justice or goodness of God, since it can never be proved that it is contrary to either of these to give his creatures [the] liberty of embracing either good or evil, to put happiness and misery in their own hands, to leave them the choice of life and death. But still this does not come up to the present question謡hy did God give them that choice?20 It is sure, in so doing he did not act contrary to any of his attributes; but can we say it would have been contrary to them to have acted in a different manner? To have determined man to God, to have tied him down to happiness, to have given him no choice of misery? It was perfectly consistent with his goodness and justice to set life and death before his creatures;21 but would it have been inconsistent with them to have let him know only life? Why he chose one of these paths before the other, where is the man that can determine? The All-wise could not do anything without sufficient motives, and such therefore doubtless there are. But what they are is hid from human eyes. Man cannot attain unto them. Reasons questionless he had, and such reasons as when heard will abundantly justify him to every understanding. But reasons they are which the ear of man hath not heard, nor can it yet enter into the heart to conceive them.22

2. Nor can we yet conceive why, among those that choose happiness, God makes the differences which we see he does. Why he appointeth that such or such a person shall attain such a degree of virtue. Why he hath said to each, 'Hitherto shalt thou go, and no farther'・this be thy bound which thou canst not pass.'23 Indeed, he hath not so bounded any of his rational creatures but that they may obtain an inconceivable degree of happiness; and more or less of it everyone doubtless will obtain in proportion to his industry. But still, some he hath chosen to such happiness as no others can attain, to such virtue as all others unsuccessfully, though not vainly, aspire to equal.
3. Why God is pleased to bestow on these persons such a measure of virtue and happiness we can no more tell than why he is pleased to bestow such a measure of suffering as he does on others. In the latter case we may, it is true, commonly trace the immediate reason of the suffering. We may commonly observe that [the] particular affliction under which a man labours either is pointed at the particular vice to which he naturally inclines, or is conducive to that virtue he particularly wants. But if we move one step further, we are lost again. We cannot tell why it was that he was suffered to be naturally inclined to that vice or averse from that virtue.
Or if it should happen, as it sometimes does, that we can give a reason for a particular fault in our natural temper, yet we only put off our ignorance one remove, and shall quickly fall into it anew. So if we should happen to see that our nature is therefore suffered to be very prone to some shameful sin, because there is no other way of bringing us to humility, without which all we do is sinful, yet the difficulty recurs・But why did the good God suffer me to be so prone to pride?' And here at least we must hold; here we have nothing more to do but to rest on his good pleasure, and to own that 'his judgments are unsearchable, and his ways past finding out!'24

Innumerable are the other particulars wherein it might be observed that man knoweth not the ways of God, that he never designed us to be of his council, or privy to the secret springs of his conduct. It might be observed that we know not why he gives to this man one endowment, to that another; why he distributes the several blessings of his Holy Spirit in those measures and at those times which he does; why―but it is vain to attempt to declare all the instances of this one branch of human ignorance, unless we could declare all 'the depths of the riches, both of the wisdom and knowledge of God'.25 Attempt we rather to search after that part of his ways which is not past finding out―to inquire, as we proposed to do in the third place, why this ignorance is our portion.

III.1. And one great reason why God (as we may reasonably suppose) suffers this cloud to rest upon us, why he cuts our knowledge so short on every side, and shows so small a part of his ways, is that ignorance may teach us the usefullest knowledge, may lead us to humility; that, conscious how little we can know of him, we may be the more intent upon knowing ourselves; that from a due sense of our utter inability to understand either the manner or reasons of God's acting, we may seriously apply to what we are able to understand―the manner and reasons of our own [acting]. Nor is anything more fit to give us a just, that is, a mean opinion of ourselves, than to have so many instances daily before us of the imperfection of our noblest endowment. If reason, boasted reason, be so imperfect, what must be the meaner parts of our frame? If thy understanding, 'if the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!'26

[2.] By pride, saith the prophet, didst even thou fall from heaven, O Lucifer, son of the morning!27 Lest his next race of creatures should fall by it, too, God peculiarly guarded them against it. He made them lower than his angels,28 that, not having the same temptation to a high opinion of their own perfections, they might continue capable of that glory and honour wherewith he designed to crown them;29 that he suffered them so strangely to debase all their powers, to corrupt their will, and obscure their understanding, that he might withdraw them from this [worst] of all vices; that he might at least 'hide pride from man'.30

Here then is one wise and merciful reason for the present weakness of our understanding, that God, by hiding himself from man, might teach him humility, and so bring man to himself more surely. Another reason why he now hides himself from us is to fulfil his eternal purpose, that man, as long as he continued upon earth, should walk by faith, not by sight.31 His purpose was not that we should see and know, whether we would or not, that all his ways are wise and good and gracious; but that we should believe this, should give an assent to it, if we gave any which was in our power; such an assent as we were free to give or withhold as depended wholly on our choice. And this intention of our Creator is excellently served by the measure of understanding we now enjoy. It suffices for faith, but not for knowledge. We can believe in God―we cannot see him.32

3. A third reason why we are so little acquainted with his ways, why what God doth man cannot know, seems to be hinted at in the text itself: 'but thou shalt know hereafter'. This knowledge is therefore denied us on earth because it is an entertainment for heaven.33 And what an entertainment! To have the curtain drawn at once, and enjoy the full blaze of God's wisdom and goodness! To see clearly how the Author of this visible world fastened all its parts together―by what chain both the pillars of the earth were upheld, and the armies of the sky! How he effected and maintained that amazing union between the body and the soul of man, that astonishing correspondence between spirit and matter, between perishing dust and immortal flame! How the Holy Ghost, the author of the world of grace, upheld our soul in mortal life! How, in answer either to our own prayers or to the prayers of others, his blessed influence overshadowing us out of the darkness, storm, and confusion of our unformed natures, called forth light, and peace, and order! To see why he suffered sin and pain to mingle with those works of which he had declared that they were very good! What unspeakable blessings those are which owe their being to this curse; what infinite beauty arises from, and overbalances this deformity; why it was just and right, as well as merciful in God, to deal to every man his distinct measure of faith, 'and anoint some whom he chose before the world began with the oil of gladness above their fellows';34 why he dealt to every man his distinct measure of suffering; why particular men were naturally prone to particular vices; why the several gifts of his Spirit were distributed as they were with respect to kind, degree, time, and persons. What an entertainment must it be to a reasonable soul to have such a prospect displayed before him! To have the eye of the mind opened, strengthened, and cleared, that he may command and enjoy it to the full! A prospect which we could not see and live, which flesh and blood could not bear;35 and which therefore is fitly reserved for that state wherein, being clothed with glory and immortality, we shall be like the angels now in heaven用ure and strong enough to see God! Amen.

To him who dwelleth in the light which no mortal can approach to, whom flesh and blood hath not seen nor can see, to the ever-blessed Trinity, be glory and praise, might and majesty, now and for ever!36