Real Regeneration
C.S. Lewis penned an essay titled "On the Reading of Old Books," which, as the title suggests, encourages people to read old books liberally. He gives a simple reason when he says, "It has always therefore been one of my main endeavors as a teacher to persuade the young that first-hand knowledge is not only more worth acquiring than second-hand knowledge, but is usually much easier and more delightful to acquire."
Lewis is addressing a fear that many of us, who are not naturally gifted academics, share. It is the thought that I'm not intelligent enough to "meet one of the great philosophers face to face" by reading their works myself. So, he says, we rely on modern books that tell us what someone said, rather than reading them ourselves.
Lately, though, I've found myself brave enough to take Lewis' advice. I picked up a few old books from my shelf, including one by John Witherspoon, a Presbyterian pastor and signer of the Declaration of Independence. In 1789, Witherspoon published a treatise on regeneration, or what it means to be "born again."
Witherspoon is immediately practical. In talking about what it means to be born again, he says that the change brought about by regeneration is not merely external and imperfect, but inward, essential, and complete. He points to several Bible verses about the heart to back up his observation (1 Samuel 16:7; 1 Chronicles 28:9; Proverbs 23:26; Ezekiel 36:26-27; Psalm 51:10; Deuteronomy 13:3; Matthew 22:37)
He also gives three counterexamples that made me pause and consider my own heart, whether or not I have a genuine regeneration.
The first counterexample is "a character formed upon a well-conducted selfish principle." Witherspoon describes a person who has themselves on the throne of the heart rather than God. What does that look like? He describes the person as someone who knows that sin has consequences and so avoids those sins not from a love of God, but from a desire to protect themselves.
Imagine a person who avoids drunkenness but only for health reasons, or who controls his tongue only because he doesn't want to disturb the peace with others, or who is patient only for the ultimate purpose of waiting until he can get his own way. In these three cases, a person exhibits character, but only for selfish ends. Regeneration, on the other hand, changes the heart to recognize sin as an evil against God and serving God as man's greatest joy.
The second counterexample is a person "supremely governed by reputation, and a desire of honor and respect from men." Here, Witherspoon is talking about the fact that many qualities of character overlap between God's law and in the sight of man. Some men and women build character for the purpose of gaining the esteem of others. In other words, they do what they do for the applause of men.
Actors are often cited as examples of people who will do anything for applause. Mostly, we point out examples of the awful things they may do to gain applause, but we forget entirely that we may do good things to get applause. That's also a breach of character.
The third example is someone who bases their life on religious principles, but is motivated by what Witherspoon calls "slavish fear" rather than "filial fear." He says this is the most complex example to explain and to root out. This is because outward behavior in both cases may appear the same, and because the Bible does call the "fear of the LORD" the beginning of wisdom. But what is that fear, exactly?
Witherspoon says there is a great "difference between a child fearing the displeasure of a parent who he sincerely loves [filial fear], and a slave dreading the resentment of an enraged tyrant, whose service he abhors [slavish fear]." He gives several questions you can ask yourself to see whether your own fear of God is that of a slave or that of a son. One that I found the most helpful was this: Does your fear of God drive you from his presence, or excite a strong desire of reconciliation and peace?
He says: There is a gloom and melancholy spread over everything in religion to them [with slavish fear]; when they are engaged in sacred duties, it is a heavy, tiresome task, and they rejoice in getting them over, as a bull when he is loosed from the yoke. On the other hand, real Christians [who have filial fear], though burdened with sinful fear, cannot take refuge in anything else but God..."
When I picked up Witherspoon's treatise, I had no idea that I would find this kind of insight into the human heart. It reminds me that, despite being separated by centuries, people are still people. The human heart was as deceptive in 1725 as it is in 2025. Most importantly, though, the free grace of Christ is as available now as it was then. If Witherspoon's observations convict your heart, let it also be comforted by Christ's death and resurrection that effects reconciliation with God and gives you the secure peace of a son.