To Earlston, Younger — Letter 97

Honored and dear brother.

Grace, mercy, and peace be to you. I received your letter, which refreshed my soul. I thank God the court is closed; I think shame of my part in it. I pass now from my unjust charge of unkindness against Christ my Lord. He is not such a Lord and Master as I took him to be — truly he is God, and I am dust and ashes. I took Christ's frowns to be as good as Scripture speaking wrath, but I have seen the other side of Christ and the bright side of his cross now. I had to come to Aberdeen to learn a new mystery in Christ — that his promise is better to be believed than his looks, and that the devil can cause Christ's frowns to speak a lie to a weak man. All bygones are but children's play; I would that I could begin to be a Christian in real earnest. I need not blame Christ if I am not one, for he has shown me heaven and hell in Aberdeen. But the truth is, for all my sorrow, Christ is nothing in my debt, for his comforts have refreshed my soul. I have heard and seen him in his sweetness, so that I am almost saying, it is not the Christ I was accustomed to meet with. He laughs more cheerfully; his kisses are sweeter and more soul-refreshing than the kisses of the Christ I saw before — though he is the same. Rather, the King has led me up to a measure of joy and communion with my Bridegroom that I never attained before. So that often I think, I will neither borrow nor lend with this world. I will not lower my sails to crosses nor flatter them to be rid of them, as I have done. Come all crosses, welcome, welcome — so I may get my heart full of my Lord Jesus! I have been so near him that I take it as a pledge: this is the Lord; leave a token behind you that I may never forget this. Now what can Christ do more to honor one of his poor prisoners? Therefore, sir, I charge you in the name of my Lord Jesus: praise with me and show to others what he has done to my soul. This is the fruit of my sufferings — that I desire Christ's name may be spread abroad in this kingdom on my behalf. I hope in God not to slander him again. Yet in all this I do not get my feasts without some mixture of gall, neither am I free of old doubts, for he has removed my loved ones and friends far from me, made my congregation desolate, and taken away my crown. My silent Sabbaths are like a stone tied to a bird's foot that lacks wings — they seem to hinder me from flying. Were it not that I dare not say anything but, 'Well done, Lord Jesus!' We can in our prosperity sport ourselves and be too bold with Christ — yes, be so insolent as to quarrel with him. But under the water we dare not speak. I wonder now at my former boldness, to quarrel and contend with Christ, to nickname Providence when it stroked me against the grain. But now swimming in the waters, I think my will has fallen to the bottom. I have lost it. I think I would gladly let Christ alone and give him leave to do with me as he pleases, if he would smile upon me. Truly we do not know what an evil it is to indulge ourselves and make an idol of our own will. I was once a man who would not eat unless I had choice food; now I dare not complain of crumbs and scraps under his table. I was once a man who would make a great fuss if I saw the world not arranged to my liking; now I am silent when I see God has set servants on horseback and is fattening the children of perdition. I pray God I never find my will again. Oh, if Christ would subject my will to his and trample it under his feet, and free me from that lawless master! Now, sir, in your youth gather fast — your sun will mount to the midday height quickly and thereafter decline. Be greedy for grace. Study above all things, my dear brother, to mortify your lusts. Oh, but pride of youth, vanity, lust, idolizing the world and its charming pleasures take long to root out! As far as you are advanced in the way to heaven, as near as you are to Christ, as much progress as you have made in mortification — you will find that you are far behind and have most of your work still before you. I never thought it so hard to be dead to my lusts and to this world. When the day of trial comes and your old idols come weeping around you, you will have much difficulty not to break your heart. It is best to give them up in time, so that at a word you could quit your part of this world for a drink of water or a thing of nothing. Truly I have seen the best of this world — a moth-eaten, threadbare coat. I purpose to lay it aside, being now old and worn. Oh, for my house above, not made with hands! Pray for Christ's prisoner and write to me. Remember my love to your mother. Ask her from me to prepare for removing; the Lord's tide will not wait for her, and to seek a heavenly mind, that her heart may be often there. Grace be with you.

Aberdeen, February 20, 1637. Yours and Christ's prisoner, S. R.