To Alexander Gordon of Earlston — Letter 82

Much honored sir.

Though I would have been glad to see you, yet seeing our Lord has been pleased to break the snare of your adversaries, I heartily bless our Lord on your behalf. Our crosses for Christ are not made of iron; they are softer and of a more gentle metal. It is easy for God to make a fool of the devil, the father of all fools. As for me, I but breathe out what my Lord breathes in; the scum and froth of my letters I father upon my own unbelieving heart. I know your Lord has something to do with you, because Satan and malice have shot hard at you; but your bow abides in its strength. You shall not by my advice be a sharer with Christ — dividing the glory of your deliverance between yourself and him, or any other secondary means whatever. Let Christ, as it befits him well, have all the glory and triumph alone. The Lord set himself on high in you. I see Christ can borrow a cross for some hours and set his servants beside it rather than under it, and yet win the day — making glory to himself, shame to his enemies, and comfort to his children out of it. But whether Christ buys or borrows crosses, he is King of crosses and King of devils and King over hell and King over malice. When he was in the grave, he came out and brought the keys with him; he is Lord-Jailer — or rather, what shall I say — he is Captain of the castle, and he has the keys of death and hell. And what are our troubles but little deaths? And he who commands the great castle commands the little also. Second, I see that a hardened face and two skins upon our brows, against the winter hail and stormy wind, is most fitting for a poor traveler in a winter journey to heaven. O what an art it is to learn to endure hardship and to learn to go barefooted through the devil's fiery coals or his frozen waters! Third, I am persuaded a sea-venture with Christ makes great riches. Is not our King Jesus's ship coming home, and shall we not get part of the gold? Alas, we fools miscount our gain when we seem to be losers. Believe me, I have no charges against this well-born cross, for it comes of Christ's house and is honorable, and it is his gift to you: 'To you it is given to suffer.' O what fools we are to undervalue his gifts and to make light of what is true honor! If we could be faithful, our rigging shall not loosen, nor our mast break, nor our sails blow into the sea. The counterfeit crosses — the basely-born crosses of worldlings for evildoing — must be heavy and grievous; but our afflictions are light and momentary. Fourth, I think myself happy that I have lost credit with Christ, and that in this bargain I am Christ's sworn bankrupt, to whom he will trust nothing, not one pin in the work of my salvation. Let me stand in black and white in the bankrupt book before Christ — I am happy that my salvation is committed to Christ's mediation. Christ owes no faith to me, to trust anything to me; but O what faith and credit I owe to him! Let my name fall and let Christ's name stand in honor with man and angel. Alas, I have no room to spread out my affection before God's people, and I see not how I can shout out and cry out the loveliness, the high honor and the glory of my fairest Lord Jesus. O that he would let me have a bed to lie in, to be delivered of my birth, that I might paint him out in his beauty to men as I am able! Fifth, I wondered once at providence and called white providence black and unjust — that I should be smothered in a town where no soul will take Christ off my hand. But providence has another luster with God than with my bleary eyes. I proclaim myself a blind body who knows not black and white in the strange course of God's providence. Even if Christ would set hell where heaven is and devils up in glory beside the elect angels — which yet cannot be — I wish I had a heart to acquiesce in his way without further dispute. I see infinite wisdom is the mother of his judgments and his ways pass finding out. Sixth, I cannot learn — but I desire to learn — to bring my thoughts, will and lusts under Christ's feet, that he may trample upon them. But alas, I am still upon Christ's wrong side. Grace be with you.

Aberdeen, September 12, 1637. Yours in his sweet Lord Jesus, S. R.