Samuel
Rutherford (1)
3. His King's Palace in Aberdeen
Rev N M Ross
His Aberdeen exile. Rutherford's reaction on being sentenced to
banishment in Aberdeen was actually one of joy. He wrote to Lady Kenmure, "That
honour that I have prayed for these 16 years, with submission to my Lord's will,
my kind Lord hath now bestowed upon me, even to suffer for my royal and princely
King Jesus and the freedom of the kingdom that His Father hath given Him". To
another he wrote, "I soon go to my King's palace in Aberdeen. Tongue and pen
and wit cannot express my joy." To yet another he said, "I know Christ shall
make Aberdeen my garden of delights".
Sorrow, however, was mingled with his gladness. It grieved him much that his
mouth was stopped indefinitely from preaching Christ, and that he would be
separated from his beloved people in Anwoth. "Sweet, sweet and easy is the
cross of my Lord," he wrote to Gordon of Earlston. "Only the remembrance of
my fair days with Christ in Anwoth, and of my dear flock (whose case is my
heart's sorrow) is vinegar to my sugared wine. Yet both sweet and sour feed
my soul."
A small company of Anwoth friends accompanied him all the way to Aberdeen,
and it was with heavy hearts they bade him farewell and turned their faces
towards home. They left him in Aberdeen, it is said, "with great regret at
the want of such a pastor, so holy, learned and modest".
"I am by God's mercy come now to Aberdeen," he wrote to Robert Gordon in September
1636, "and settled in an honest man's house. . . . I find the townsmen cold
and dry in their kindness, yet I find a lodging in the heart of many strangers.
. . . Now, my dear brother, forget not me, the prisoner of Christ, for I see
very few here who kindly fear God." "Northern love is cold," he wrote to another, "but
Christ and I will bear it." "I find folks here kind to me," he told Lady Kenmure, "but
in the night and under their breath." Faith Cook expresses his new situation
well in her verses in Grace in Winter:
A borrowed house, a borrowed bed,
A fire, though not my own;
My sorrows these, but greater far
This grief my heart has known:
A scattered flock beyond my reach
And silent lips that long to preach.
My heaviness is mixed with joy,
For love has cast my chain;
His consolations swallow up
My tale of short-lived pain.
Then let my sufferings preach His name,
A silenced tongue His love proclaim!
The ecclesiastical and university authorities gave "the banished minister",
as he was known in the town, the coldest reception of all - and little wonder,
for Aberdeen was a centre of support for Archbishop Laud. "They regarded Rutherford
with much suspicion," says Robert Gilmour in his biography, Samuel Rutherford
- A Study, "and their aversion increased as he grew in favour with the
people." It was not long before controversy arose. Dr Robert Barron, Professor
of Divinity in Marischal College, and a rank Arminian in doctrine, was a determined
opponent of such men as Samuel Rutherford and David Dickson, and he relished
the opportunity to engage Rutherford in debate. Rutherford wrote to George
Gillespie, "I am here troubled with the disputes of the great doctors (especially
with Dr B) in ceremonial and Arminian controversies, for all are corrupt here;
but, I thank God, with no detriment to the truth, or discredit to my profession.
So, then, I see that Christ can triumph in a weaker man nor I; and who can
be more weak? But His grace is sufficient for me." If Barron - "the Goliath
of his party", as Andrew Thompson described him - and his learned colleagues
counted on an easy victory they were soon disillusioned. "Dr Barron hath often
disputed with me," wrote Rutherford to William Dalgleish, his predecessor at
Anwoth, "especially about Arminian controversies, and for the ceremonies. Three
yokings laid him by, and I have not been troubled with him since."
However, the greatest trial endured by Rutherford was his "dumb Sabbaths". "My
closed mouth, my dumb Sabbaths," he wrote to the Provost of Ayr, "the memory
of my communion with Christ, in many, many fair days in Anwoth, hath almost
broken my faith in two halves." To another he wrote, "My dumb Sabbaths burden
my heart, and make it bleed". To yet another, "My dumb Sabbaths are like a
stone tied to a bird's foot."
Samuel Rutherford's letters. Although his silenced tongue could not
preach the gospel, his pen was exceedingly active on behalf of his "kingly
King", whom he highly extolled in those wonderful letters he wrote during his
banishment. How precious to their recipients were the epistles he sent from
his "King's palace" in Aberdeen. But more than the actual recipients - Marion
M'Naught, Robert Gordon, Lady Kenmure, Colonel Gilbert Ker, the cousins William
and James Guthrie, and many others - derived benefit from them. Just as the
writings of Bunyan, which came from his prison in Bedford in the 1660s, have
helped many Christians heavenward since then, so the letters of Samuel Rutherford,
which issued from his confinement in the north from September 1636 to June
1638, have consoled and fortified multitudes of the Lord's people in the succeeding
three and a half centuries. Indeed, some people were so helped by them that
they began to gather them together, and had "whole books full of them", says
John Row the historian (writing at least 18 years before the letters were first
published). Of the 365 letters in Bonar's edition, 220 were written from Aberdeen. "Paradoxical
as it may seem," Gilmour says, "Rutherford lives by a book which he never wrote
as a book at all - by a collection of letters written with no further intention
than to edify or comfort his correspondents. It is by these that he, being
dead, yet speaks so forcibly to so many hearts."
Some critics have focused on what they see as faults in his letters, but,
says Marcus Loane in his Makers of Religious Freedom, "The faults in
his letters are of minor account when we bear in mind the surpassing excellence
of their merits; their grandeur outweighs their mistakes, and they have brought
strength and comfort in verbal music to a thousand souls". "His Letters,
with all their faults, which are those of the age," says Thomas M'Crie in The
Story of the Scottish Church, "have excellences which must be felt to the
end of time. 'Hold off the Bible' [that is, apart from the Bible], said Richard
Baxter, 'such a book the world never saw the like.'" "So far as I know," says
James Walker, in his The Theology and Theologians of Scotland, written
130 years ago, "they are the only letters two centuries old which are still
a practical reality in the religious life of Scotland, England and America." Spurgeon
exclaimed, "What a wealth of spiritual ravishment we have here! Rutherford
is beyond all praise of men. Like a strong-winged eagle he soars into the highest
heaven and with unblenched [unflinching] eye he looks into the mystery of love
divine."
Some readers have found it profitable to trace a particular topic through
his letters - for example, his concern for the spiritual welfare of young people.
With some young friends he communicated directly. "I exhort you in the Lord",
he wrote to young Grizzel Fullerton, "to seek your one good thing, Mary's good
part that shall not be taken away from you. Learn the way, as your dear mother
hath done before you, to knock at Christ's door. Many an alms of mercy hath
Christ given to her, and He hath abundance behind [remaining] for you." To
others he sent faithful and affectionate advices through their parents. "I
desire your children to seek the Lord", he wrote to John Gordon of Cardoness. "Desire
them from me, to be requested, for Christ's sake, to be blessed and happy,
and to come and take Christ, and all things with Him." Andrew Bonar said of
Rutherford, "He had a heart for the young of all classes, so that he could
say of two children of one of his correspondents, 'I pray for them by name'".
To most readers, three topics stand out in his letters: (1) his love to, and
desire for, Christ; (2) his devoted concern for the cause of Christ, especially
in Scotland; and (3) his profound sympathy with those burdened by trouble and
sorrow. To a Mrs Craig who had lost her young son by drowning, he wrote, "There
is no way of quieting the mind, and of silencing the heart of a mother, but
godly submission. The readiest way for peace and consolation to clay vessels
is, that it is a stroke of the Potter and Former of all things. And since the
holy Lord hath loosed the grip, when it was fastened sure on your part, I know
that your light, and I hope that your heart also, will yield. It is not safe
to be pulling and drawing with the omnipotent Lord. Let the pull go with Him,
for He is strong; and say, 'Thy will be done on earth, as it is in heaven'."
"It was his own frequent journey at the side of wife or mother, son or daughter,
to the dark and troubled waters of death, that gave him such superb skill in
words of consolation," says Marcus Loane. "He never wrote in finer vein than
when he wrote for the comfort of the bereaved. It was as though all the springs
of pity in his own heart found a spontaneous outlet in true fellow-feeling
with those who mourned. . . . It was out of the depth of his own heart that
a noble sentence in one of his sermons was wrung: 'I know', he said, 'there
is a true sorrow that is without tears; and I know there is a real sorrow that
is beyond tears'."
Although no stranger to such sorrow, he also knew, even in the very midst
of his griefs, the joy and peace that comes to the soul in having communion
with the blessed Beloved of the Church. "I cannot but write to my friends that
Christ hath trysted me in Aberdeen", he wrote to Lady Kenmure, "and my adversaries
have sent me here to be feasted with love banquets with my royal, high, high
and princely Lord Jesus." "None is so kind as my only royal King and Master,
whose cross is my garland," he wrote to Alexander Colville. "The king dineth
with His prisoner, and his spikenard casteth a smell. He hath led me up to
such a pitch and nick of joyful communion with Himself, as I never knew before.
When I look back to by-gones, I judge myself to have been a child at ABC with
Christ. Worthy sir, pardon me, I dare not conceal it from you." But even when
he did not have such times of spiritual elevation and delight, he could bless
God for even the yearning for Christ which filled his heart. "I have little
of Christ in this prison but groanings, and longings, and desires," he wrote
on one occasion. "All my stock of Christ is some hunger for Him, and yet I
cannot but say that I am rich in that."
The last of his known Aberdeen letters was written on 11 June 1638. Evidently
it was soon after this date that he was able to return to his "fair Anwoth
by the Solway".
Endnotes:
1. The previous instalment dealt with Rutherford's Anwoth
ministry (1627-36), the action of the Court of High Commission in 1636 forbidding
him to exercise his ministry, and his banishment to Aberdeen.
This article is part 3 of a series
Other articles in this series: [part
1] [part 2] [part
4] [part 5]
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