Our post today is drawn from THE NEW YORK OBSERVER, an old 19th-century Presbyterian newspaper. As you read, remember that the church is, of course, the people and not the building. Still, it is interesting how place comes to hold the memories and emotions that sum up the years. 

THE OLD CHURCH.

The days had woven themselves into months, and the months had grown silently into years, since I had entered the dear old church. And now my tired feet were turning thitherward once more. Ah, me! that it should be so, but I fear those feet have wandered far from the narrow way they had entered, in the long ago, beneath these sacred walls. Along the dusty highway of life, over its high mountains of danger and temptation, from whose summit I had caught visions of far off, fair Beulah; down into its deep valleys of sordid care and strife, into whose gloom no glimmer, even, of the heavenly brightness had ever entered, to the sound of funeral dirges, and of wedding marches, these weary feet have toiled, until at last they have come again to these sacred portals.

It is not a beautiful church; indeed, I believe people generally call it a very ugly one. But to me, the deep, low galleries, the tall, massive pillars, with the vast open dome brooding over all, are beautiful, for they are draped about with the prayers of the saluted dead, and the sweet peace of the “first love,” lingers like incense in the shadows. Even as I enter the narrow doors, the deep joy of the olden time, the trustful early love that was content to lay all things at the Father’s feet, and leaning on His bosom, wait calmly for the future, came stealing to my heart again.

Over there it was, I stood on that golden Sabbath morning, when God’s ambassador spoke to me in the presence of his people, saying: “Do you believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, that He loves you, and gave Himself for you?” And the peace that passeth knowledge came to my soul as I answered, forgetting the people and looking only into the face of the Lord—“I do.”

Then came the touch of the baptismal waters, and the words, “I baptize thee in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen.” And I stood in the presence of that crowd of seen and unseen witnesses, with His vows upon me. He only knows how sadly those baptismal robes have been stained, how often those vows have been broken.

In that corner pew I sat when first I took the emblems of my Redeemer’s dying love, while through my heart, above the tumultuous waves of love and adoration, went singing only these words, “Broken for me! Broken for me!”

Oh! it is to the weary wanderer like coming home again; home to sweet, sacred memories; home to loving hearts and warm welcome words. They are nearly all here that I used to meet on those olden Sabbaths; truly there are some vacant places, but they are not many; the children are a little older grown, and perhaps there are a few more wrinkles and silver hairs, marking the fathers and mothers, but they are nearly all the same, and the loving words and warm hand-pressures are the same they gave to the youthful pilgrim. God bless them.

It is peace and rest, after all the conflict, just to sit quietly here, in the old place, and with closed eyes drink in the sweet peace and joy of past and present pardon. To listen with a full heart to the well-known, well-loved voice that speaks from the square old pulpit, just the text my wayward heart needed: “Delight thyself in the Lord, and He shall give thee the desires of thine heart. Commit thy way unto the Lord; trust also in Him, and He shall bring it to pass.” Yes, that was the God-sent message, to trust Him. In the past I had, indeed, commited my ways unto the Lord, but I had not trusted Him; and ever since I have been trying to shape them out myself.

To-day, please God, I’ll learn the double lesson: “Commit thy way unto the Lord, trust also in Him.” And perchance, in all the after-journey, whether I stand upon the mountain-top or go down into the valley, alike to both will come visions of fair Beulah, and back to heart and life shall come the early love and holy influences of this old church, to grow and broaden, till by God’s grace I stand within the golden portals of the heavenly temple.

—J.C.C.

THE NEW YORK OBSERVER, 48.33 (18 August 1870): 257, column 5.

Words to Live By:
Let us hold fast the profession of our faith without wavering; (for he is faithful that promised;)
And let us consider one another to provoke unto love and to good works:
Not forsaking the assembling of ourselves together, as the manner of some is; but exhorting one another: and so much the more, as ye see the day approaching.
—Hebrews 10:23-25, KJV

He Gained the Martyr’s Crown

The enemies of the Covenanters had very long memories. Long after sermons were preached or actions taken, the authorities in Scotland remembered words and actions against them. Such was the case with a young minister by the name of Hugh McKail.

A child of the manse, from Bothwell, Scotland, his pastor father was one of those forced out of his pulpit and parish when he refused to conform to Prelacy.  Little is known of young Hugh’s early days, but he did go to Edinburgh for education. There he was soon marked out as a young man of exceptional ability. For that, upon graduation, he was chosen to be a chaplain and tutor of the Lord Provost of Edinburgh, Sir James Stewart. In that Covenanter home, he would sit at the feet of those in leadership positions in the church and learn of the dire situation facing both the church and the state.

In 1661, he applied to the Presbytery for licensure in the ministry. Preaching in a variety of situations, he was quickly recognized by his hearers for his great ability in the Word of God. However, his ministry soon came to an end as it became obvious that he wouldn’t compromise his convictions, just as his father before him.  Preaching his last sermon in a church in Edinburgh, he had a sentence in it which marked him for remembrance by the Prelate forces of his day. He said, “the Church is persecuted by a Pharaoh on the throne, a Haman in the State, and a Judas in the Church.” The identification was obvious to all in the pews that day.

Forced to leave his beloved Scotland, the young twenty-six year old would spend the next three years in Holland. On his return to Scotland, the situation had not improved any and there was a spark of rebellion in the air. That spark was ignited, as my post on November 28 indicated, at the Battle of Rullion Green. Hugh McKail was among the nine hundred in the Covenanter ranks that day. But his own physical weakness removed him before that great battle arrived, and he traveled to Edinburgh instead. There he was arrested by the authorities, not so much for his Covenanter attachments as for his statement made in that Edinburgh church some years before.

Interrogated in prison, he was placed in the Boot, a fearful torture device which all but crushed his leg while he remained silent in voice. He was ordered to die by hanging on December 22, 1666. His exact words that day of death have been preserved through the ages. They were:

Farewell father, mother, friends, and relations; Farewell the world and its delights; farewell meat and drink; farewell sun, moon, and starts; Welcome God and Father; welcome sweet Jesus Christ the mediator of the New Covenant; welcome blessed Spirit of grace, the God of all consolation; welcome glory, welcome eternal life; welcome death!  Into Thy Hands I commit my spirit.”

Words to Live By:
Could Hugh McKail have compromised his convictions and avoided suffering and death? Certainly, and many did. But this young man  was reared by a parent who by his example remained steadfast to the Word of God and the testimony of Jesus Christ. With such an example like that, it is no wonder the young minister was given over to sacrifice, in loyalty to both the Living and Written Word, come what may to his physical body. Addressing all parents reading these posts on Presbyterian history: Your life preaches all the week. Are those in your family being helped or hindered to follow the Living and Written Word?

On Every Battlefield of Life, Christ is ever our Comfort and Strength.

Today we present a letter from the battlefield, penned on this day, December 21, in 1863. Here, the Rev. Thomas Dwight Witherspoon writes to Susan G. Miller, sister of Witherspoon’s fallen commander, Colonel Hugh R. Miller, who died at Gettysburg. Of tragedy and loss, and of God’s comfort in our weakest moments, Rev. Witherspoon writes,

Truly God’s footsteps are in the great deep. We cannot comprehend his doings, but it is the part of faith to sit meekly & lean upon the arms of the Lord though it be in the dark. We know that He doeth all things well—that he doth not willingly grieve or afflict & therefore we should not faint under his chastisements, but gather strength from his promises & fortitude from his throne of grace, glorifying him even in the furnace of affliction, and striving by every visitation of his rod to be drawn nearer to Himself.

T. D. Witherspoon to Susan G. Miller, December 21, 1863:—
Camp 42nd Miss near Orange C. H.

Dec 21st 1863

My dear friend:

The enclosed letter sent to my care has been for a long time in the hands of Captain Cooper, but through some mistake the letter containing it was not handed me until day before yesterday. I have been intending to write to you every day since I reached Camp but have been prevented by the constant confusion & bustle incident to such a life as that we hare now leading. We have only one small tent for the Regimental, Medical & chaplains headquarters, so with the crowd always collected on business of some kind, or visiting some of us there is but little time given for writing or reflection. My thoughts have been very often with you since I come away, hoping that the slight improvement in your health during my stay might prove to be the earnest of your complete restoration to health,yet fearing that it was only the excitement of my hurried visit & that after I had gone, you would again feel keenly the power of the disease. Oh how gladly I should have remained with you longer if it had been at my option to do so. How happy I should be in any way possible to minister to your comfort & relieve the weariness of long & painful sickness. I have learned to think of you as a mother for his sake, who amid all the trials & deprivations of the camp, treated me ever as if I were a son. I cannot tell you how much I miss him now. There is a vacancy in my heart, there is a vacancy in the hearts of the men—there is a vacancy in the command of the Regiment wh. [i.e., which] cannot be filled. We shall never have another officer so active & vigilant, another leader so brave & true, another Colonel so much respected & admired, and I greatly fear we shall never again have a Regiment so thoroughly drilled & disciplined as that in which our lamented Colonel once took such a just & honest pride. All the men speak of him affectionately. All lament his death & long for some way to shew their appreciation of his worth.

We have just received official notice that Col. Moseley’s resignation is accepted. We have also a report in camp that Maj. Feeney is dead but I trust this report may not be true. [1] There will be a great contention for seniority amongst Captains & we do not know how the issue between them will be decided. Cpt. Locke has gone home on furlough, his wound is still troubling him. [2]

We have just received the sad intelligence of the death of Edward Miller, son of the late Rev. Jno. H. Miller, killed in battle & his remains left in the hands of the enemy. How distressing to this afflicted household. Truly God’s footsteps are in the great deep. We cannot comprehend his doings, but it is the part of faith to sit meekly & lean upon the arms of the Lord though it be in the dark. We know that He doeth all things well—that he doth not willingly grieve or afflict & therefore we should not faint under his chastisements, but gather strength from his promises & fortitude from his throne of grace, glorifying him even in the furnace of affliction, and striving by every visitation of his rod to be drawn nearer to Himself.

Of the state of religion in the Regiment I am not able as yet to say much as the weather has been so inclement since my return as to prevent me from mingling much with the men. On yesterday & the Sabbath before the attendance on preaching was very large & from other indications, I think there is still a deep interest. Tomorrow we move to our permanent quarters for the winter which will be three miles beyond Orange C. H. [i.e., Court House]. On the wagon road to Gordonsville. It is spoken of as an excellent location with plenty of wood, water etc. When we get a little time we purpose building a chapel & hope to have regular service all the winter. Oliver is quite well, has made application for furlough & is very impatient to get home—Dr. T. & Capt. N. [3, 4] are also well. They are all asleep or I know they would send messages. My only chance to write is at night after every thing is at rest in the camp & my candle gives so dim a light that I can scarcely see where I write. As we are to be up very early in the morning &move by then the new encampment, I must close making this my excuse for not writing a longer & more satisfactory letter. Give my love to George & Eddie. I trust you may be comforted in seeing them each brought into the fold of Christ, through the sore affliction which the Lord has sent upon you & upon them. May His gracious spirit, the promised comforter dwell richly in your heart, soothing the wounds for which earth has not remedy or balm. With kind regards to the members of the household & heartfelt prayers for you & yours

Your true friend & brother,

T. D. Witherspoon

[1] According to Military History of Mississippi, Major Feeney was killed at the Battle of the Wilderness in May 1864.

[2] Capt. Robert A. Locke of Company D, 42nd Regiment, was wounded at Gettysburg and promoted to Major on December 18, 1863.

[3] Regimental Surgeon Robert L. Taggart.

[4] Probably Captain Andrew M. Nelson, who eventually succeeded Miller, Moseley and Feeney to command the 42nd.

The Comfort of the Scriptures. A Devotional Meditation
by the Rev. David Freeman, Th.M.

[excerpted from Christianity Today, 3.10 (October 1933).]

OCTOBER, 1933
“Curse ye Meroz . . . because they came not to the help of the Lord against the mighty.” (Judges 5:23.)

The truly devotional life—the life that is hid with Christ in God—is the life that does not shirk at the call of duty.

The passive life is by no means the spiritual life. To live close to God is to witness for Him. Not to obey is to render the sacrifice, no matter how great, worthless.

To love God and to do His commandments go hand in hand. Let no one think that communion with God may be had apart from the willingness to serve the Lord in the heat of the day.

Because the people of Meroz came not to the help of the Lord in a time of conflict with the enemies of God they were under His curse.

Could people like that pray? Could they hold fellowship with a God of righteousness and truth? They did nothing while others carried the banner of the Lord into the enemy’s camp. What pretense if they claimed fellowship with the Lord! What mockery their exercises of religion! They came not to the help of the Lord and could they yet claim His blessing?

It is impossible to find favor in God’s sight if His cause is not our cause. To love Him is to be identified with all that concerns Him. We are not our own. We have been bought with a price. We have not a life of our own to live. God’s life must be ours. “Whosoever will lose his life for My sake shall find it,” said the Lord Jesus.

               Say not, “The days are evil. Who’s to blame?
               And fold the hands and acquiesce—oh, shame!
               Stand up, speak out, and bravely in God’s name.”

What is it that makes us stand idly by while others enter into the conflict of the Lord of Hosts? Have we forgotten the word of the Lord? To heed the word and wisdom of man is not to have fellowship with the Father.

Have we become indifferent to God’s cause? Only the losing of self in Him can bring us out of this state.

God can use the weakest vessel. Has He not “chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty”?

The valiant for truth live in the Spirit.

               “Go, labor on : spend, and be spent.
                       Thy joy to do the Father’s will;
               It is the way the Master went;                 
              Should not the servant tread it still?”

A Political Message in a Presbyterian Church —

It was evidently a message which the well-known Presbyterian pastor in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania had to deliver, given the times.  To wait for some better time would be wrong, he must have thought.  So the Rev. Dr. Henry  A. Broadman on two successive weekdays delivered the same sermon entitled “The American Union: A Discourse” to two different audiences. The first occasion was on Thursday, December 12, 1850 on the day of Annual Thanksgiving in the state. The second was on Thursday December 19, 1850 in the sanctuary of Tenth Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.  Here are some quotations from the message:

“No man who believes that there is a Providence can take even a brief retrospect of our history, like that which has now engaged our attention, without discovering in numerable evidences of his benignant agency.  He who does not see a Divine hand directing and controlling the whole course of our affairs, from the landing of the colonists at Jamestown and Plymouth until the present would hardly have seen the pillar of cloud and of fire had he been with the Hebrews in the wilderness.

“The Union is not the work of man. It is the work of GOD. Among the achievements of his wisdom and beneficence in conducting the secular concern of the world, it must be ranked as one of his greatest and best works.  And he who would destroy it is  chargeable with the impiety of attempting to subvert a structure which is eminently adapted to illustrate the perfections of the Deity, and to bless the whole family of man.” (p. 30)

Dr. Boardman then goes on to speak of one issue which was actually at work in the 1850’s which, in his estimation, would destroy the American Union. The identification of this is put in all capital letters, and it is, SLAVERY.  The rest of the long address is on this issue, and the divisiveness which it is causing to the American Union.  Readers can find it on the world-wide web and read it in its entirety.

This patriotic message in a Presbyterian Church (which is now aligned with the Presbyterian Church in America) was proclaimed by the pastor of Tenth Presbyterian, not on Sunday, either the Sabbath morning or Sabbath evening, but on a Thursday at a special service.  And because he saw it as an important message, he had it printed into a booklet for the masses to read, especially the Christian people of the land.  It was one attempt to heal the union of the land rather than see it splintered into two nations, as was the case eleven years later in 1861.

Words to live by: There is a place, as our Confession speaks in W.C.F. 31:4 of  speaking to our citizens “by way of humble petition in cases extraordinary, or by way of advice, for satisfaction of conscience, if they be thereunto required by the civil magistrate.”  This writer does not know if the discourse was a humble petition or a requirement by the civil magistrate, but it was delivered by this Presbyterian clergyman to his congregation and others in that eastern city of Pennsylvania. Certainly God’s Word does bear on the affairs of our nation.  We must speak to it in extraordinary times. Who can deny that the potential schism caused by the Civil War was an extraordinary time.  Christian reader: pray for our nation today, for our president and all his advisers, for the cabinet, the members of Congress, and especially our military forces all over the world, including those in harm’s way.