On Puritans & Thanksgiving

It is regrettable that modern society has inherited such a disfavorable perspective regarding the puritans. Granted, the term “puritan” was intended as an offense (even from its inception), but there is a great deal that we might (and daresay I, SHOULD?) learn from these pious men and fore-bearers of our faith. These were men of deep faith and bold conviction, who sought to “purify”, or reform, the Church of England according to Scripture. Whether we recognize this fact or not, we are truly fortunate that many of these men were disciplined and faithful in placing their convictions down on paper. What a treasury of wisdom and piety, may be found in the many preserved works of puritan authors, from Baxter to Sibbes. If this paragraph is not convincing enough, may I recommend that you invest some time with J.I. Packer in “A Quest for Godliness: The Puritan Vision for the Godly Life.” Trust me, Packer will convince you.

Having just celebrated the holiday of the puritans, Thanksgiving, I find myself drawn, once again, to my favorite collection of puritan prayers, “The Valley of Vision.” To quote the illustrious Doctor Johnny Wink, “this text has often been the ever-so-soothing balm to my Gilead.” I found this particular entry to be a blessing, quite convicting, and especially pertinent for the season in which we find ourselves, and so I have decided to share:

Regarding Divine Mercies, "The Valley of Vision", Pages 16 &17

Thou Eternal God,

Thine is surpassing greatness, unspeakable goodness, super-abundant grace;
I can as soon count the sands of ocean’s ‘lip’ as number Thy favours towards me;
I know but a part, but that part exceeds all praise.

I thank Thee for personal mercies,
A measure of health, preservation of body,
Comforts of house and home, sufficiency of food and clothing,
Continuance of mental powers,
My family, their mutual help and support,
The delights of domestic harmony and peace,
The seats now filled that might have been vacant,
My country, church, Bible, faith.

But, O, how I mourn my sin, ingratitude, vileness,
The days that add to my guilt,
The scenes that witness my offending tongue;
All things in heaven, earth, around, within, without,
Condemn me –
The sun, which sees my misdeeds,
The darkness, which is light to Thee,
The cruel accuser who justly charges me,
The good angels who have been provoked to leave me,
Thy countenance, which scans my secret sins,
Thy righteous law, Thy holy Word,
My sin-soiled conscience, my private and public life,
My neighbours, myself –
All write dark things against me.

I deny them not, frame no excuse, but confess,
‘Father, I have sinned’;

Yet still I live, and fly repenting to Thy outstretched arms;
Thou wilt not cast me off, for Jesus brings me near,
Thou wilt not condemn me, for He died in my stead,
Thou wilt not mark my mountains of sin, for He levelled all,
And His beauty covers my deformities.

O my God, I bid farewell to sin by clinging to His cross,
Hiding in His wounds, and sheltering in His side.

Amen.