Glimpses of Christian History Presents Pastwords #49: Archibald Alexander Warns of Copycat Religious Experiences ©2007

Archibald Alexander was the son of William and Ann Alexander, born on the seventeenth day of April, 1772.

n the experience of President Edwards, as recorded by himself, we find no account of any deep and distressing convictions of sin at the commencement of his religious course; though, afterwards, perhaps few men ever attained to such humbling views of the depth and turpitude of the depravity of the heart. But his experience differs from those mentioned before, in that his first views of divine things were clear and attended with unspeakable delight. "The first instance that I remember of that sort of inward, secret delight in God and divine things, that I have lived much in since, was, on reading those words, 1 Tim. I. 17, 'Now, unto the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God, be honour and glory, for ever and ever, Amen.' As I read these words, there came into my soul, and was as it were diffused through it, a sense of the glory of the divine Being; a new sense, quite different from any thing I ever experienced before. Never any words of Scripture seemed to me as those words did. I thought with myself, how excellent a being that was, and how happy I should be, if I might enjoy that God, and be rapt up to him in heaven, and be as it were swallowed up in him for ever." "From that time I began to have a new kind of apprehensions and ideas of Christ, and the work of redemption, and the glorious way of salvation by him. An inward, sweet sense of these things, at times, came into my heart; and my soul was led away in pleasant views and contemplations of them. After this, my sense of divine things gradually increased, and became more and more lively, and had more of that inward sweetness. The appearance of every thing was altered. There seemed to be, as it were, a calm, sweet, cast or appearance of divine glory, in almost every thing. God's excellency, his wisdom, his purity, and his love seemed to appear in every thing." The difference between this and many other cases of incipient piety, is very striking. And yet these views and exercises do not come up to the standard which some set up in regard to Christian experience, because they are so abstract, and have such casual reference to Christ, through whom alone God is revealed to man as an object of saving faith. And if there be a fault in the writings of this great and good man on the subject of experimental religion, it is, that they seem to represent renewed persons as at the first, occupied with the contemplation of the attributes of God with delight, without ever thinking of a Mediator. But few men ever attained, as we think, higher degrees of holiness, or had made more accurate observations on the exercises of others. His work on the Affections is too abstract and tedious for common readers; but is an excellent work, although I think his twelve marks might with great advantage be reduced to half the number, on his own plan. The experimental exercises of religion are sure to take their complexion from the theory of doctrine entertained, or which is inculcated at the time.

The variety which appears in the exercises of real converts does not depend alone on the different degrees of vigour, in the principle of spiritual life, but on many other circumstances; some of which will now be noticed. The benefit of sound doctrinal instruction to the new-born soul has already been mentioned, but demands a more particular consideration. What degree of knowledge is absolutely necessary to the existence of piety cannot be accurately determined by man, but we know that genuine faith may consist with much ignorance and error. Suppose two persons, then, to have received the principle of spiritual life in equal vigour; but let the one be ignorant and the other well instructed, it is easy to see what a difference this will make in the exercises of the two converts; and also in the account which they are able respectively to give to others of the work of grace on their hearts. It is here taken for granted, that nothing but divine truth can be the object of holy affections, to furnish the motives from which true Christians are bound to act; and that faith in all its actings has respect to revealed truth. But that which is unknown can never operate with the same effect as that which is clearly understood. Accordingly, our missionaries inform us, that we ought not to expect the same consistency or maturity in the religion of real converts from heathenism, as from religiously educated persons in our own country. It is a lamentable fact that in this land of churches and of Bibles, there are many who know little more of the doctrines of Christianity, than the pagans themselves. The proper inference from the fact stated is, that they are egregiously in error, who think that the religious education of children, is useless, or even injurious; and their opinion is also condemned who maintain that it matters little what men believe provided their lives are upright. All good conduct must proceed from good principles; but good principles cannot exist without a knowledge of the truth. "Truth is in order to holiness;" and between truth and holiness there is an indissoluble connection. It would be as reasonable to expect a child born into an atmosphere corrupted with pestilential vapour, to grow and be healthy as that spiritual life should flourish without the nutriment of the pure milk of the word, and without breathing in the wholesome atmosphere of truth. The new man often remains in a dwarfish state, because he is fed upon husks; or, he grows into a distorted shape by means of the errors which are inculcated upon him. It is of unspeakable importance that the young disciple have sound, instructive, and practical preaching to attend on. It is also of consequence that the religious people, with whom he converses, should be discreet, evangelical, and intelligent Christians; and that he books put into his hands should be of the right kind. This is what may be called a sectarian peculiarity in the experimental religion of all the members of a religious denomination. When it is required, in order that persons be admitted to communion, that they publicly give a narrative of the exercises of their minds, there will commonly be observed a striking similarity. There is a certain mould into which all seem to be cast. By the way, this requisition is unwise; few persons have humility and discretion enough to be trusted to declare in a public congregation, what the dealings of God with their souls have been.

When ignorant, weak, and fanciful persons undertake this, they often bring out such crude and ludicrous things, as greatly tend to bring experimental religion into discredit. The practice seems also to be founded on a false principle, namely, that real Christians are able to tell with certainty whether others have religion, if they hear their experience. Enthusiasts have always laid claim to this discernment of the spirits, and this enthusiasm is wisely spread through some large sects; and when they meet with any professing piety, they are always solicitous to hear an account of their conviction, conversion, etc. A free intercourse of this kind among intimate friends, is no doubt, profitable; but a frequent and indiscriminate disclosure of these secret things of the heart, is attended with many evils. Among the chief is, the fostering of spiritual pride, which may often be detected when the person is boasting of his humility. In those social meetings, in which every person is questioned as to the state of their souls, the very sameness of most of the answers ought to render the practice suspicious. Poor, weak, and ignorant persons, often profess to be happy, and to be full of the love of God, when they know not what they say. It is wonderful how little you hear of the spiritual conflict in the account which many professors give of their experience. The people know what kind of answers is expected of them, and they come as near as they can to what is wished; and it is to be feared that many cry, "peace," when there is no peace; and say that they are happy, merely because they hear this from the lips of others. Hypocrisy is a fearful evil, and every thing which has a tendency to produce it should be avoided. Among some classes of religious people, all doubting about the goodness and safety of our state is scouted as inconsistent with faith. It is assumed as indubitably true, that every Christian must be assured of his being in a state of grace, and they have no charity for those who are distressed with almost perpetual doubts and fears. This they consider to be the essence of unbelief; for faith, according to them, is a full persuasion that our sins are forgiven. No painful process of self-examination is therefore requisite, for every believer has possession already of all that could be learned from such examination. Among others, doubting, it is to be feared, is too much encouraged; and serious Christians are perplexed with needless scruples originating in the multiplication of the marks of conversion, which sometimes are difficult of application, and, in other cases, are not Scriptural, but arbitrary, set up by the preacher who values himself upon his skill in detecting the close hypocrite, whereas he wounds the weak believer, in three cases, where he awakens the hypocrite in one. I once heard one of these preachers, whose common mode was harsh, and calculated to distress the feeble minded, attempt to preach in a very different style. He seemed to remember that he should not “bruise the broken reed,” nor “quench the smoking flax.” A person of a contrite spirit heard the discourse with unusual comfort, but at the close the preacher resumed his usual harsh tone, and said, “Now you hypocrites will be snatching at the children’s bread.” On hearing which, the broken hearted hearer felt himself addressed, and instantly threw away all the comfort which he had received. And though there might be a hundred hypocrites present, yet not one of them cared any thing about the admonition.

In some places, anxious inquirers are told that if they will hold on praying and using the means, that God is bound to save them; as though a dead, condemned sinner could so pray as to bring God under obligation to him, or could secure the blessings of the covenant of grace, by his selfish, legal striving. These instructions accord very much with the self-righteous spirit which is naturally in us all; and one of two things may be expected to ensue, either that the anxious inquirer will conclude that he has worked out his salvation, and cry peace; or that he should sink into discouragement and charge God foolishly, because he does not hear his prayers, and grant him his desires. There is another extreme, but not so common among us. It is, to tell the unconverted, however anxious, not to pray at all--that their prayers are an abomination to God, and can answer no good purpose, until they are able to pray in faith. The writer happened once to be cast into a congregation where this doctrine was inculcated, at the time of a considerable revival, when many sinners were cut to the heart and were inquiring, what must we do to be saved? He conversed with some who appeared to be under deep and awful convictions; but they were directed to use no means, but to believe, and they appeared to remain in a state of perfect quiescence, doing nothing, but confessing the justice of their condemnation and appearing to feel that they were entirely at the disposal of Him who "has mercy on whom he will have mercy." The theory, however, was not consistently carried out, for while these persons were taught not to pray, they were exhorted to hear the gospel, and were frequently conversed with by their pastor. But his extreme is not so dangerous as the former, which encourages sinners to think that they can do something to recommend themselves to God, by their unbelieving prayers. The fruits of this revival, I have reason to believe, were very precious. Even among the same people and under the same minister, the exercises of the awakened in a revival are very different. In some seasons of this sort, the work appears to be far deeper and more solemn than in others.

ARCHIBALD ALEXANDER'S OWN RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE

There had never been any revival in the Valley, and few of the Scottish Presbyterians there resident had much faith in these sudden awakenings. They had heard of a work of this kind in Western Pennsylvania, under the labours of the Rev. Joseph Smith, the Rev. John M’Millan, and others; but the general impression was that these religious commotions would pass away like the morning cloud. John Lyle, an eminently vain, ostentations, and dissipated young man, who had avowed infidel opinions, returned from Franklin, now East Tennessee, with a mind and character signally renewed, and this served to awaken new expectations of the scenes which they were about to visit.

Archibald Alexander, the subject of this narrative, and the son of William and Ann above mentioned, was born on the seventeenth day of April, 1772.

"The house in which I was born," says his own account, "was built of square logs, as were most of the houses at that time. The place is rough, and is near a little mountain stream, called the South River, which, after joining the North River, falls into the James River, just above its entrance into the mountains. Nearly opposite to the place, Irish Creek, a bold stream from a gorge of the mountain, falls into the South River. This my birthplace was at that time in Augusta County, which was unlimited to the west; it is now in Rockbridge County, and is about seven miles from Lexington, in an eastern direction.

"My father, having in the year 1775 removed from his place on the South River to the Forks, that is, to the south of the North River, just this side of the site of Lexington, began to carry on his mercantile business there. Indeed, to get into a more public and convenient situation, was, I suppose, his only motive for this change. He purchased the house now owned by my oldest brother. As the buildings were poor, and on the wrong side of the farm for his purpose, he erected a house and a store near to the present site of Jordan’s Mills. By this removal he went out of Augusta into Bottetourt County; for the north River was the dividing line. But soon after this a new county was taken from the two, and called Rockbridge, from the Natural Bridge, which was within its limits. Lexington was fixed on for the seat of justice; and a town was laid off, which took its name from the place of the first battle and first bloodshed of the Revolution. But the war came on, and all mercantile business was necessarily suspended; and my father now acted as deputy-sheriff to his father, in the new county."

The country was new, and the times were difficult, in consequence of which the youth of that day grew up with hardier habits than ours. Dr. Alexander used repeatedly to tell his children that his father gave him a rifle the day he was eleven years old; and how he would spend days in the mountains in search of cattle which were lost, able to catch and discriminate the bells of his father’s herd at a distance which seems almost incredible. He was an expert swimmer, and grew up with that perfect knowledge of horsemanship which is still common to all young Virginians. Trifles serve to colour the picture of the times. The dress of the children was grotesque. “Long hair,” says he, “tied down the back, was all the mode; and every little fellow was cherishing his hair. I, among the rest, had a little dangling queue, which from the thinness of the hair was very small. On this account, some of the boys called me ‘My Lord Pigtail.’ A great laugh was raised against me, by my having complained to the master of this, as a breach of the third commandment.

“Some judgment may be formed of the privations of the people, consequent on the long continuance of the war, from the fact, that it was very difficult for our teacher to obtain a penknife, to make and mend the pens of the scholars. Hearing that my father had been on to the North for goods, I was mounted on a horse and sent home to get a knife. There had been a great rain and the streams were swollen. Arriving at the North River, on the opposite bank of which my father’s house stood, I found that the river was too high to be forded by so young and weak a horse as the one I rode. I knew not what to do. The only house near was a cabin of one John Montgomery, an old cedar-cooper. To cross the river, which is always deep at the spot, John had made a bark canoe, such as is used by the Indians. I sat nearly all towards sunset. The old man said he would go up with me to the ford, and would try to make the family hear our call, that a servant with a strong horse accustomed to the ford might be sent over. In this we succeeded. Davy, a black boy, crossed, and taking me behind him on a tall horse, led the one I had ridden, but it was not without danger."

CHAPTER FOURTH
1789-1790
"Awakening in Lexington"

There is something of amiable youthful simplicity in the confidence with which the returning company expected an immediate manifestation of awakening grace on their arrival at Lexington. Notice was duly given of a meeting for prayer, to be held on the evening after their return. The service was under the direction of Mr. LeGrand. We resume the narrative: “I had the trial of being called upon to pray, in the presence of all my young acquaintances. My timidity, however, was in a manner gone. I now calculated fully on a revival in Lexington. Before the meeting I conversed privately with some of my associates, and found them favourably disposed. The news of our arrival, and of the spirit in which we had returned, spread rapidly through the country around. The next day the public service was at New Monmouth church. Mr. LeGrand preached in the morning on Isaiah xlv. 22, ‘Look unto me and be ye saved, all ye ends of the earth.’ After which Mr. Graham gave a narrative of all that he had seen and heard in Prince Edward and Bedford, and then addressed the great congregation in the most penetrating and pathetic manner, the tears meanwhile streaming from his eyes. The assembly was deeply and solemnly moved. Multitudes went weeping from the house. Another meeting was appointed for the evening, in the town, in a large room which had been used for dancing. Here the solemnity was greater, if possible, than at the church. Many remained to converse with the minister, and a person of the most sedate habits and moral life cried out in an agony, 'What must I do to be saved!' Every thing went on prosperously, and I was in expectation that all, or nearly all, the people would be awakened. Several of my companions, educated young men, came forward and professed their determination to be on the Lord's side. I had not heard a whisper of opposition, but next morning my uncle, Andrew Reid, who had not been at any of the meetings, brought to our house a volume of Locke's Essay, with the page turned down at the chapter on Enthusiasm. My sister, to whom he spoke with some severity, was surprised and confounded, and grew faint with agitation, so that she was constrained to go to her couch. It struck me as amazing that any man of sense could think us in danger of enthusiasm. We soon found that there were many enemies of our proceedings, and that some of the young men ridiculed the whole affair. But the work went on, and we were gratified to find that cases of awakening occurred at almost every meeting, and the religious concern continued to diffuse itself through the country. These were halcyon days for the church; and as for myself, though I did not regard myself as converted, I was so occupied with the cases of others, and with the opposition, that for a while I almost forget my own case.

"Mr. LeGrand remained with us a week or two. His natural disposition was very uneven. He was either exceedingly lively, or in an awful gloom, in which he continually expressed a desire to die. At the time of his awakening, in Cumberland, he lay, I have been told, for hours in convulsions, produced by convictions, which were followed, it is thought, by believing views of the Saviour. Great success attended his earliest labours. His countenance, though youthful, was marked with sadness, and his voice had a mellowness and tenderness which I have never heard surpassed.

"Being much dissatisfied with my state of mind, and now sensible of the corruption of my heart, I resolved to enter on a new course, and determined to give up all reading except the Bible, and to devote myself entirely to prayer, fasting, and the Scriptures, until I should arrive at greater hope. My life was spent almost entirely in religious company, but our conversation often degenerated into levity, which was succeeded by compunction. Telling over our private exercises was carried to an undue length, and instead of tending to edification, was often injurious. But reserve on this subject was considered a bad sign; and on meeting, the first inquiry after salutation was concerning the state of each other's souls.

"A young woman of my acquaintance, who, with others, had gone over to Bedford, appeared more solemnly impressed than most of the company. All believed that if any one had experienced divine renewal, it was Mary Hanna. One afternoon, while reading a sermon of Tennent's, on the need of a legal work preparatory to conversion, she was seized with such apprehensions of her danger, that she began to tremble, and in attempting to reach the house, which was distant only a few steps, fell prostrate, and was taken up in a state of terrible convulsion. The news quickly spread, and in a short time most of the serious young people in the town were present. I mention this for the purpose of adding that I was at once struck with the conviction that I had received an irreparable injury from the clergyman who had persuaded me that no such conviction as this was necessary. I determined, therefore, to admit no hope until I should have the like experience. I read all the religious narratives I could procure, and laboured much to put myself into the state in which they described themselves to have been, before enjoying hope. But all these efforts and desires proved abortive, and I began to see much more of the wickedness of my own heart than ever before. I was distressed and discouraged, and convinced that I had placed too much dependence on mere means, and on my own efforts. I therefore determined to give myself incessantly to prayer until I found mercy, or perished in the pursuit.

“This resolution was formed on a Sunday evening. The next morning I took my Bible and walked several miles into the dense wood of the Bushy Hills, which were then wholly uncultivated. Finding a place that pleased me, at the foot of a projecting rock, in a dark valley, I began with great earnestness the course which I had prescribed to myself. I prayed, and then read in the Bible, prayed and read, prayed and read, until my strength was exhausted; for I had taken no nourishment that day. But the more I strove the harder my heart became, and the more barren was my mind of every serious or tender feeling. I tasted then some of the bitterness of despair. It seemed to be my last resource, and now this had utterly failed. I was about to desist from the endeavour, when the thought occurred to me, that though I was helpless, and my case was nearly desperate, yet it would be well to cry to God to help me in this extremity. I knelt upon the ground, and had poured out perhaps a single petition, or rather broken cry for help, when, in a moment, I had such a view of a crucified Saviour, as is without a parallel in my experience. The whole pan of grace appeared as clear as day. I was persuaded that God was willing to accept me, just as I was, and convinced that I had never before understood the freeness of salvation, but had always been striving to bring some price in my hand, or to prepare myself for receiving Christ. Now I discovered that I could receive him in all his offices at that very moment, which I was sure at the time I did. I felt truly a joy which was unspeakable and full of glory. How long this delightful frame continued I cannot tell. But when my affections had a little subsided I opened my Bible, and alighted on the eighteenth and nineteenth chapters of John. The sacred page appeared to be illuminated; the truths were new, as if I had never read them before; and I thought it would be always thus. Having often thought of engaging in a written covenant with God, but having never before found a freedom to do so, I now felt no hesitation, and having writing materials in my pocket, I sat down and penned it exactly from my feelings, and solemnly signed it as in the presence of God.

“I expected now to feel uniformly different from what had preceded, and to be always in lively emotion, thinking my troubles all at an end. As I had been much distressed by discovering the sins of my heart, and as I read in Scripture that faith works purification, I resolved to make this the test. At the time, indeed, I had no doubt as to the sincerity of my faith; and in the paper of self-dedication above-mentioned I expressed the assurance that if I had never before received Christ I did then and there receive him. For several days my mind was serene. But before a week had elapsed, darkness began to gather over me again. Inbred corruption began to stir. In a word, I fell back into the same state of darkness and conflict as before."

Shortly after this, in the autumn of 1789, he made a profession of his faith. But he describes his first approach to the Lord’s Table as destitute of high comforts. His thoughts were much distracted, and his soul was harassed with awful fear lest he should eat and drink damnation to himself. And after receiving, this dreadful suspicion haunted him, until he felt convinced that this enormous sin had been committed. But at his second communion, which was at New Monmouth, he enjoyed a delightful day of clear assurance. “The sermon by Mr. Graham,” says he in a very late record, "was on the text, 'The Sun of Righteousness shall arise,' etc. The preacher compared the beginnings of true religion in the soul to the rising of the sun; sometimes with a sudden and immediate clearness, sometimes under clouds, which are afterwards dispersed. As he went on, it occurred to me with great distinctness, that the Sun of Righteousness began to rise on me, though under a cloud. When conversing with Mr. Mitchell in Bedford, I was relieved from despair by the persuasion that Christ was able to save even me. This shows how seldom believers can designate with exactness the time of their renewal. Now, at the age of seventy-seven, I am of opinion that my regeneration took place while I resided at General Posey's, in the year 1788."

It seemed proper to dwell at some length on the traits of this remarkable and extensive religious awakening, because it shows how familiar the subject of this memoir was with the good and the evil of such excitements; especially as in a later period of his life, when he felt constrained to unite with other wise men in protesting against enthusiastic excesses and false doctrine, he was frequently treated by opponents as a rigid book-divine, who had grown up in cold forms, without acquaintance with great outpourings of the Holy Spirit. How far this was from the true state of the facts, will have been sufficiently apparent in the preceding extracts.

It was a remarkable peculiarity of this great popular reformation, that amidst all its outbreaking enthusiasm and strange animal agitation, it was not carried forward by means of corrupt doctrine. Aberrations from the truth there doubtless were in the case of individuals, and even bodies of errorists broke away on one side and the other, especially in the West; but all the preachers whom we have had occasion to name, were zealously attached to the sound Nonconformist theology of the seventeenth century. Minor points were indeed brought into question among the active minds of inquirers, stimulated by greatly exalted feeling; but the fundamentals of reformation truth were left undisturbed. Most of those in the valley who professed their faith maintained their constancy, but some who persevered most faithfully were not the most prominent at the beginning. “Much conversation took place concerning the nature of faith, the necessity of legal conviction, and the question whether there was an operation on the soul itself prior to all spiritual views, or whether regeneration was effected by the introduction of truth to the mind. When we brought our various opinions to Mr. Graham for his decision, we found that his judgment was peculiar. He maintained that as conversion is the change of a rational agent, it must be a matter of conviction and choice; and that it was absurd to suppose any physical operation on the soul itself to be necessary or even conceivable. This opinion therefore became prevalent. The opposite, supposed to be that of many called Hopkinsians, was that no change takes place in the views of the understanding, but such as arises from a change in the feelings of the heart. But some of us were not satisfied with either of these explanations. We supposed that a soul dead in sin was incapable of spiritual views and feelings, until made partaker of spiritual life; that this principle of life was imparted in regeneration; so that the natural order of exercises was, that the quickened soul entertained new views, which were accompanied by new feelings in accordance with the truths presented to the mind. This opinion I then adopted and have always held. The Spirit operates on the dead soul, communicating the principle of life. The Word holds up to the view of the regenerated soul the evil of sin which leads to repentance, and shows the excellency and suitableness of Christ as a Saviour in all his offices, and reveals the beauty of holiness."

THE FINAL PORTION OF THE PRAYER
"For one who feels that he is approaching the Borders of Another World"

by Archibald Alexander (circa 1849)

"O most merciful God! cast me not off in the time of old age; forsake me not when my strength declineth. Now, when I am old and gray-headed forsake me not; but let thy grace be sufficient for me, and enable me to bring forth fruit even in old age. May my hoary head be found in the ways of righteousness! Preserve my mind from dotage and imbecility, and my body from protracted disease and excruciating pain. Deliver me from despondency and discouragement in my declining years, and enable me to bear affliction with patience, fortitude, and perfect submission to thy holy will. Lift upon me perpetually the light of thy reconciled countenance, and cause me to rejoice in thy salvation, and in the hope of thy glory. May the peace that passeth all understanding be constantly diffused through my soul, so that my mind may remain calm through all the storms and vicissitudes of life.

"And, in the course of nature, I must be drawing near to my end, and as I know I must soon put off this tabernacle, I do humbly and earnestly beseech thee, O Father of mercies, to prepare me for this inevitable and solemn event. Fortify my mind against the terrors of death. Give me, if it please thee, an easy passage through the gate of death. Dissipate the dark clouds and mists which naturally hang over the grave, and lead me gently down into the gloomy valley. O my kind Shepherd, who hast tasted the bitterness of death for me, and who knowest how to sympathize with and succour the sheep of thy pasture, be thou present to guide, to support, and to comfort me. Illumine with beams of heavenly light the valley and shadow of death, so that I may fear no evil. When heart and flesh fail, be thou the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever. Let not my courage fail in the trying hour. Permit not the great adversary to harass my soul in the last struggle, but make me a conqueror and more than a conqueror in this fearful conflict. I humbly ask that my reason may be continued to the last, and if it be thy will, that I may be so comforted and supported, that I may leave a testimony in favour of the reality of religion, and thy faithfulness in fulfilling thy gracious promises; and that others of thy servants who may follow after, may be encouraged by my example to commit themselves boldly to the guidance and keeping of the Shepherd of Israel.

"And when my spirit leaves this clay tenement, Lord Jesus receive it! Send some of the blessed angels to convey my inexperienced soul to the mansion which thy love has prepared. And O! let me be so situated, though in the lowest rank, that I may behold thy glory. May I have an abundant entrance administered unto me into the kingdom of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; for whose sake and in whose name, I ask all these things. Amen."