To William Rigge of Atherny — Letter 68

Worthy and much honored sir.

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. How sad a prisoner would I be, if I did not know that my Lord Jesus had the keys of the prison himself, and that his death and blood has bought a blessing to our crosses as well as to ourselves. I am sure troubles have no prevailing right over us, if they are but our Lord's officers to keep us in custody while we are on this side of heaven. I am persuaded also that they shall not pass the boundary road, nor enter into heaven with us, for they find no welcome there, where there is no more death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither any more pain. Therefore we shall leave them behind us. Oh if I could get as good a deliverance from sin — even this woeful and wretched body of sin — as I get from Christ's cross! No, indeed, I think the cross bears both me and itself, rather than I bear it, in comparison with the tyranny of the lawless flesh and wicked neighbor that dwells beside Christ's new creature. But oh, this is what presses me down and pains me: that Jesus Christ in his saints sits neighbor to an ill companion — corruption, deadness, coldness, pride, lust, worldliness, self-love, carelessness, falsehood, and a world of the like, which I find in me, that are daily doing violence to the new man. Oh, we have cause to carry low sails and to cleave fast to free grace, free, free grace! Blessed be our Lord that ever that way was found out. If one foot of mine were in heaven and my soul half in, if free will and corruption were absolute lords of me, I should never wholly win in. Oh but the sweet, new, and living way that Christ has opened up to our home — that is a safe way! I find now that presence and access are a greater gift than before, but yet the bridegroom looks through the lattices and through the hole in the door. Oh if he and I were in fair dry land together on the other side of the water. Grace be with you.

Aberdeen, September 30, 1637. Yours in his sweet Lord Jesus, S. R.