A plentiful harvest.(Jonathan Edwards & John Wesley @ 300)(Jonathan Edwards and the Bible, by Robert E. Brown;Jonathan Edwards's Philosophy of History: The Reenchantment of the World in the Age of Enlightenment, Avihu Zakai;The Supreme Harmony of All: The Trinitarian Theology of Jonathan Edwards, by Amy Plantinga Pauw; Jonathan Edwards: A Life, by George N. Marsden)

At the beginning of Austin Flint's play, The Flaming Spider: Jonathan Edwards in Northampton, Edwards hallucinates in a cold sweat on his deathbed in Princeton. New Jersey. The third president of Princeton's fledgling College of New Jersey, and soon to be the third in a row to die an untimely death. Edwards can't help but rue what could have been but never came to pass. Far removed from the family and friends he had loved and sewed in Massachusetts, he shouts in an eerie apostrophe to Sarah, his wife of 30 years, who had not yet made the journey to Princeton but comforts her husband nonetheless. "I never built a New Jerusalem in Northampton." he cries in despair, "never built the great city on a hill. But the building blocks were in place, Lord. It was within our grasp." Edwards continues in reverie, as he muses over the fleeting joys of New England's Great Awakening. "What a dream it was. What a blessed dream. What a special light hung, still hangs over that [Connecticut River] valley. Look closely. There! Can you see the glow? Can you see it now, Sarah? Northampton, our beloved hills, white steeple of the meeting house. Truly we are blessed by God." (1)

The Flaming Spider exaggerates Edwards' feelings of failure as a minister, and misrepresents him when it suggests that he tried to build the New Jerusalem. But it offers a vivid portrayal of Edwards' spiritual restlessness and seemingly boundless aspirations-sustained in spite of intense frustration by an unparalleled and irrepressible theological idealism--and illuminates the irony of his phenomenal, though overwhelmingly posthumous, success. Indeed, on this tercentennial anniversary of Edwards' birth in East Windsor, Connecticut (on October 5, 1703), thousands have gathered to remember one whom many would call an unlikely man--dismissed by his own parishioners from the First Church of Northampton, then opposed by family relations at the Stockbridge Indian mission, and finally succumbing in a bout with smallpox two months after moving to Princeton. Despite such bitter disappointments, millions around the world continue to celebrate Edwards' life--compelled by his singular capacity to depict the glory of God. Some still struggle for control of his weighty mantle.

Though inhibited during his lifetime by many who sought to thwart his ministry, Edwards now enjoys an enormous international reputation. He died in 1758 with only a handful of disciples (and a larger number of admirers away from New England's halls of power). But by the end of the 18th century, his followers had founded a spiritual movement, promoting Edwardsian doctrine and practice throughout the Anglo-American world. During the early 19th century, Edwardsians dominated New England and began to circle the globe with the growth of the modern missionary movement. Today, the name of Edwards is known on every major continent. And people have read his writings not only in English, Gaelic, and Welsh editions but also in German, French, Dutch, Swedish, Spanish, Arabic, Choctaw, Chinese, and Korean. Edwards never would have guessed it. And he would surely not have been pleased with all of the purposes he has served. But the long-term investments he made as preacher, teacher, and theological writer continue …