SIXTH PASTORAL LETTER - Robert Murray Mcchene
Self-devotedness—what it ought to be.
EDINBURGH, March 6, 1839.
To all my dear flock over which the Holy Ghost hath made me overseer—to all of you who are of the church of God, which He hath purchased with his own blood—your pastor wishes grace, mercy, and peace.
I thank my God without ceasing that ever I was ordained over you in the Lord. For every shower of the Spirit that ever has been shed upon us— for every soul among you that has ever been added to the church—for every disciple among you whose soul has been confirmed during our ministry, I will praise God eternally. May this letter be blessed to you by the breathing of the Holy Spirit! May it teach you and me more than ever that we “are not our own but bought with a price.”
The most striking example of self-devotedness in the cause of Christ of which I ever heard in these days of deadness, was told here last week by an English minister. It has never been printed, and therefore I will relate it to you, just as I heard it, to stir up our cold hearts, that we may give our own selves unto the Lord.
The awful disease of leprosy still exists in Africa. Whether it be the same leprosy as that mentioned in the Bible, I do not know, but it is regarded as perfectly incurable, and so infectious that no one dares to come near the leper. In the south of Africa there is a large lazarhouse for lepers. It is an immense space, enclosed by a very high wall, and containing fields, which the lepers cultivate. There is only one entrance, which is strictly guarded. Whenever anyone is found with the marks of leprosy upon him, he is brought to this gate and obliged to enter in, never to return. No one who enters in by that awful gate is ever allowed to come out again. Within this abode of misery there are multitudes of lepers in all stages of the disease. Dr Halbeck, a missionary of the Church of England, from the top of a neighbouring hill, saw them at work. He noticed two particularly sowing peas in the field. The one had no hands, the other had no feet—these members being wasted away by disease. The one who wanted the hands was carrying the other who wanted the feet upon his back, and he again carried in his hands the bag of seed, and dropped a pea every now and then, which the other pressed into the ground with his foot; and so, they managed the work of one man between the two. Ah! how little we know of the misery that is in the world! Such is this prison-house of disease. But you will ask, who cares for the souls of the hapless inmates? Who will venture to enter in at this dreadful gate, never to return again? Who will forsake father and mother, houses and land, to carry the message of a Saviour to these poor lepers? Two Moravian missionaries, impelled by a divine love for souls, have chosen the lazarhouse as their field of labour. They entered it never to come out again; and I am told that as soon as these die, other Moravians are quite ready to fill their place. Ah! my dear friends, may we not blush, and be ashamed before God, that we, redeemed with the same blood, and taught by the same Spirit, should yet be so unlike these men in vehement, heart-consuming love to Jesus and the souls of men?
I wish now to mention to you a proposal which deeply involves the happiness of you and me, and of which I believe most of you have already heard something. Oh, that you would trace the Lord’s hand in it! Oh that “you would be still and know that He is God!” Let me go over some of the ways by which God has led us hitherto. When I came to you at the first, it was not of my seeking. I never had been in your town and knew only one family in it. I did not ask to be made a candidate. I was quite happy where I was labouring in the Lord’s work. God turned your hearts to ask me to settle among you. It was the Lord’s doing. Since that day “ye know after what manner I have been with you at all seasons,” and how, as far as God gave me light and strength, “I have kept nothing back that was profitable unto you, but have showed you, and have taught you publicly, and from house to house.” Ye know also, some of you in your blessed experience, that God has given testimony to the word of his grace, so that “our gospel came not to you in word only, but in power, and in the Holy Ghost, and in much assurance.
It is indeed amazing how God should have blessed the word when there was so much weakness and so much sin. But “who is a God like unto our God, that pardoneth iniquity, and passes by the transgressions of the remnant of his heritage?” We planted and watered, and God gave the increase. Ye are God’s husbandry—ye are God’s building. To Him be the glory.
You know also that I have had some painful trials among you. The state of the mass of unconverted souls among you has often made my heart bleed in secret. The coldness and worldliness of you who are God’s children has often damped me. The impossibility of fully doing the work of a minister of Christ, among so many souls, was a sad burden to me. The turning back of some that once cared for their souls pierced my heart with new sorrows. Still, I have had two years of great joy among you— unspeakable joy—in seeing souls added to the church of such as shall be saved. I may never be honored to preach again, yet still to all eternity I shall praise God that He sent me to you: “For what is our hope, or joy, or crown of rejoicing? Are not even ye in the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ at his coming? For ye are our glory and joy.” 1 Thess. 2:19, 20. And should I lightly break up such a connection as this? Ah, no! My dear friends, I do not need all your affectionate letters to persuade me, that, if it were the Lord’s will, my own vineyard is the happiest place in the world for me to be. Again, and again other vineyards were offered to me, and I was asked to leave you; but I never for a moment listened to one of them, for ye were the seal of my ministry; and where could I be happier than where the Lord had blessed me, and was still blessing me? But God sent another message to me. He laid a heavy hand upon my body. I long struggled against it, but it was too much for me. For two months I have been an exile from you, and I have felt all the time like a widower, or like Jacob bereaved of his children. My constant prayer was, that I might be restored to you, and to the Lord’s service. You prayed the same; and when it was not answered, I cried, “Wherefore contendest Thou with me?” That word was sent in answer: “My son, despise not thou the chastening of the Lord, neither be weary of his correction,” Prov. 3:11. God seems plainly to shut the door against my returning to you at present. I am greatly better, yet still I am forbidden to preach. I am not even allowed to conduct the family devotions morning and evening; indeed, whenever I exert myself much in conversation, I soon feel the monitor within, warning me how frail I am.
In these circumstances, the General Assembly’s Committee on the Jews have this day resolved that your pastor, accompanied by Dr Black of Aberdeen, and my beloved friend Andrew Bonar of Collace, should travel for the next six months, to make personal inquiry after the lost sheep of the house of Israel.
They propose that we should go without delay to the Holy Land—that we should then return by Smyrna, Constantinople, Poland, Germany, and Holland. Now I did not seek this appointment—I never dreamed of such a thing. “But He that hath the key of David, He that openeth and no man shutteth, and shutteth and no man openeth,” He has thrown open this door to me, while He keeps the door of return to you still shut. My medical men are agreed that it is the likeliest method of restoring my broken health, and that I have strength enough for the journey. You know how my heart is engaged in the cause of Israel, and how the very sight of Immanuel’s land will revive my fainting spirit. And if it be the will of God, I shall return to you, my beloved flock, to tell you all that I have seen, and to lead you in the way to the Jerusalem that is above.
I cannot tell you how many providences have been sent to me, every one convincing me that it is God’s will and purpose I should go.
The most cheering one to me is, that a young man has nearly consented to fill my place, and feed your souls during my absence, who is everything I could wish, and who will make you almost forget that you want your own pastor. Nay, whatever happens, I hope you will never forget me, but remember me in your families, and remember me in your secret prayers. You are all graven on my heart—I never can forget you. How wonderful have been God’s dealings with us! For many reasons He has sent this affliction on us, —for sin in me, for sin in you; but also, I am persuaded, that He might seek after “the dearly beloved of his soul,” that are now in the hand of their enemies. His way is in the sea; his name is Wonderful. I grieve to write so much about myself. I had far rather speak to you of “Him who is fairer than the children of men.” May you look beyond all ministers to Him—may He be your guide even unto death! Once again, I hope to write before I leave my home and my country. Till then, may all grace abound toward you, and peace be upon Israel. Amen.