A Sermon by Archibald Alexander
Matthew 11:28. Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.
As a stream of living water to a traveller perishing with thirst, as a skilful physician to someone sick with a dangerous disease, as a reprieve to a condemned criminal – so is the voice of mercy to the self-condemned sinner. In ten thousand instances, these have been blessed words to heavy-laden, weary souls; they can never lose their interest by age or repetition. As food is equally relished by the hungry appetite after being eaten a thousand times, so the precious promises of God bring the same refreshment to the soul, however often they have been received by faith already.
The Christian does not desire novelties; all he wants is a heart to relish the truths which have stood on the sacred page from the beginning. There is a fulness of riches in God’s Word, if only we possess the key of faith to unlock the ark in which they are contained. One great excellence of the holy Scriptures is that they never lose their power and sweetness. After the lapse of ages, God’s promises to believers are as firm and consolatory as when first made; and Christ’s invitations to sinners are as full and as free to those who now hear the gospel as when they were first uttered.
If Christ, while on earth, had spoken no more than the few words of our text, they ought to be esteemed infinitely more precious than all the golden sayings of the heathen sages. Let us be truly thankful for such a gracious invitation, proceeding from the lips of Him who always spoke as never man spoke; and let us pray the Father of lights to prepare our hearts to appreciate the grace exhibited in these divine words of our Redeemer.
1. Who does the Saviour address here? Who are the labouring and heavy laden? As the gospel is directed to be preached to “every creature”, and as this call contains the essence of the gospel, there is no reason why we should not consider that all who hear the invitation are included, especially as our Lord complains of the conduct of the proud and unbelieving among His hearers for refusing to come to Him: “Ye will not come to Me, that ye might have life”. All are miserable; all are “by nature the children of wrath”; all are labouring in the vain pursuit of earthly happiness; all therefore may consider themselves invited. None need feel excluded from Christ’s invitation.
And to give this universal latitude to the call harmonises with parallel passages of Scripture, especially with that remarkable invitation in Isaiah 55:1-3: “Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters, and he that hath
1Reprinted, with editing, from Alexander’s Practical Sermons.
no money: come ye, buy and eat; yea, come, buy wine and milk without money, and without price. Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is not bread, and your labour for that which satisfieth not? Harken diligently unto Me, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness. Incline your ear and come unto Me; hear, and your soul shall live.” The gracious invitation of the Spirit in Revelation 22:17 is equally free and universal: “The Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that heareth say, Come. And let him that is athirst come; and whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely.” And the same extent ought to be given to Christ’s public invitation at Jerusalem on the last day of the feast of tabernacles: “In the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let him come unto Me and drink” (John 7:37).
But while we think that this kind invitation ought not to be restricted, we readily admit that it is more applicable to some than others. The poor, the oppressed, the diseased, the persecuted, the lame, the blind, the friendless may have been more particularly in the eye of the blessed Redeemer, for it was given as a proof that He was the Messiah to come that “the blind receive their sight, and the lame walk, the lepers are cleansed, and the deaf hear, the dead are raised up, and the poor have the gospel preached to them” (Mt 11:5).
But there is another class to whom the Saviour’s address may be considered as still more appropriate: convinced sinners labouring under a sense of guilt, and almost sinking under a burden too grievous to be borne. Surely Christ had respect to them, for He came “not to call the righteous, but sinners to repentance”; “to seek and to save that which was lost”. He came to heal those that are sick, such as are conscious of their mortal maladies. Even those who are groaning under the burden of a blind mind and a hard heart, but think they have no convictions – those who are so prone to exclude themselves – are invited. Yes, Christ speaks to you; He speaks to you more particularly than to others. Do not therefore put away from you the gracious call, as if it was intended only for others; do not ingeniously argue any longer against your own souls; do not by unbelief shut the door of mercy, which the Redeemer has graciously opened.
Neither should penitent believers, burdened with a deep sense of their own defilements and continual imperfections, be omitted when the various classes of heavy-laden sinners are designated. The great Shepherd of the sheep always has special regard to the weak of His own flock. He carries the lambs in His bosom, and gently leads those that are with young. The kind condescension of the Son of God to the humble penitent is, in many parts of Scripture, set forth in remarkable words. He was described in prophecy as one who would “comfort all that mourn”; and who would give “unto them that mourn in Zion
… beauty for ashes, the oil of joy for mourning, the garment of praise for the spirit of heaviness”. “Thus saith the Lord, Heaven is my throne, and the earth is my footstool; but to this man will I look, even to him that is poor and of a contrite spirit, and trembleth at My word.” “The bruised reed shall He not break, and the smoking flax shall He not quench.”
Let those then who are walking in darkness and troubled in spirit – let all who are harassed and cast down with manifold temptations and sore inward conflicts, which cause them to express their feelings in groanings which cannot be uttered – attend to the gentle accents of mercy which proceed from the lips of Jesus. Unworthy and wretched as you feel, He does not pass you by. He addresses you, not in the language of reproach or condemnation, but in that of tender affection. Yes, He calls you also to come to Him.
2. The character of Him who gives the invitation. Though we need to know more than the name of this divine Person, even this is “as ointment poured forth”. His name is Emmanuel, “God with us”. The angel told Joseph: “Thou shalt call His name Jesus, for He shall save His people from their sins”. When our Lord asked His disciples who He was, Peter answered, “Thou art the Christ, the Son of the living God”. And because He was born of a woman and made flesh, He often speaks of Himself as “the Son of man”. When Isaiah speaks of the child that should be born, of the Son that should be given, he adds, “His name shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor, the mighty God, the everlasting Father, the Prince of Peace”. And in John’s sublime vision of the white horse, “He that sat upon him was called Faithful and True. . . His eyes were as a flame of fire, and on His head were many crowns, and He had a name written that no man knew but He Himself. And He was clothed in a vesture dipped in blood, and His name is called The Word of God.” He is also styled, “King of kings, and Lord of lords”.
His names not only indicate the dignity of His person, but also the offices He executes. He is the Redeemer, the Saviour, the one Mediator, the great High Priest, the Advocate, the great Shepherd of the sheep, the Judge of quick and dead. Immediately before He uttered this gracious invitation, He declared His divine knowledge and power: “All things are delivered to Me of My Father; and no man knoweth the Son but the Father; neither knoweth any man the Father, save the Son, and he to whomsoever the Son will reveal Him”. No one could utter these words without the highest blasphemy but He who was God with God in the beginning – He who, “being in the form of God, thought it not robbery to be equal with God”.
If the Redeemer was not omnipotent, His people could not trust in Him; if He was not omniscient, it would be vain to call upon Him. In Christ there is the most wonderful union of majesty and condescension, of heavenly glory
and human tenderness. While He is “God over all”, He is not ashamed to call His people brethren. He took not on Him the nature of angels, but the seed of Abraham. And the reason why we may come boldly to the throne of grace is because “we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities”. And the reason He assigns here, to induce us to come to Him without hesitation, is that He is “meek and lowly in heart”.
3. How must we come? Not bodily, for this is impossible; where Christ now is we cannot come. Many came near the Saviour, when He sojourned on earth, who never derived any benefit from Him. His murderers came in contact with Him, when they seized, bound, buffeted, scourged and crucified the Lord; and the traitor Judas lived in His family, travelled in His company for years, and kissed Him in Gethsemane, but this will only render his doom the more intolerable. It had been better for that man never to have seen Jesus – yea, never to have been born.
Coming to Christ is a spiritual approach, in which the Saviour is grasped by the enlightened mind in His true character. It is a full persuasion that He is indeed the Son of God and Saviour of the lost. It is the act of a convinced, distressed soul, fleeing from the coming wrath to take shelter under the out-stretched wings of His mercy. It is an exercise of humble confidence in the Redeemer of sinners, that He will deliver it from all the evils which are felt or feared. There is nothing difficult in this act to the soul under the influence of the Holy Spirit; nor does it require a long time. It is nothing but the soul’s cordial consent to receive Christ as a complete and only Saviour.
The weary and heavy-laden sinner, almost overwhelmed with the burden of his guilt, having sought relief in other quarters, at length hears the kind invitation of Jesus, “Come unto Me”. He is enabled to give full credit to the sincerity of the call and to see the excellence and suitability of Christ as a divine Saviour; and is persuaded that every blessing needed to secure eternal salvation is treasured up in Him. The sinner receives Him as He is freely offered in the gospel, and willingly commits all his immortal interests into Christ’s hands and resolves to submit to Him and obey Him in all time to come. In all this, though the soul is operated on by almighty power, it is conscious of no restraint, only the sweet constraint of the love of Christ. But the more powerful this irresistible drawing towards Christ, the more freely does the soul seem to act. Under the sweet influence of grace, the affections go forth to Him spontaneously, who now appears altogether lovely; and the weary soul experiences a sweet rest by casting all its burdens on the Lord.
The principal act of faith is trust. “Blessed are all they that trust in Him.” And having once tasted the blessedness of confiding in Christ, we never think of seeking any other refuge. The believer is not only persuaded that
Christ is the way, but the only way and so He is prized above all price. “Unto you . . . which believe, He is precious.” Well may the name of Jesus sound sweet to the believer’s ear, because there is no other name under heaven by which we must be saved. No wonder he values above rubies, or kingdoms, that precious cornerstone which God has laid in Zion – though rejected by the proud and self-righteous. He so values Christ because he is sure that it is a safe foundation on which to build for eternity, and that “other foundation can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus Christ”.
Coming to Christ is not an act to be performed only once; it is to be continually repeated. Every day we need His aid, and every hour we should have recourse to Him. He allows His disciples the privilege of friends, to come as often as they will; and He invites them to come with confidence to His throne of grace “to obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need”. So intimate is the communion between Christ and believers that there is a mutual indwelling – Christ in them the hope of glory, and they in Christ as members of His body or as branches engrafted into Him, the true vine.
Perhaps the anxious inquirer still asks, How must I come? I answer: Come poor, naked, helpless and unworthy; come renouncing all dependence on your own righteousness. If you attempt to come with a price in your hand, you will be rejected. Christ must be received as our only Saviour. He will have nothing to do with those who place any confidence in their works or religious privileges. He will not save you on account of your religious privileges or natural amiableness or diligent attention to outward duties. In these respects you cannot go beyond the rich young ruler, who lacked one thing, the main thing. In punctilious observance of external duties and rites, you cannot exceed the Scribes and Pharisees; yet your righteousness must exceed theirs, or you can never enter the kingdom of heaven.
You must come to Christ for wisdom, righteousness, sanctification and redemption. As long as sinners think they are “rich and increased with goods, and have need of nothing,” they will not come to Christ. But when they are convinced that they are “wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked,” they will be inclined to hear His counsel, and come to Him to buy gold tried in the fire that they may be rich, eyesalve that they may see, and white raiment that they may be clothed and that the shame of their nakedness do not appear. In short, do not delay, thinking that you may make yourselves better or prepare your hearts to receive Christ, but come at once; come as you are. If you are sick, apply at once to the Physician. If you are defiled, come to the fountain opened for sin and uncleanness. If you are burdened with guilt, come to a crucified Saviour, whose blood cleanses from all sin. If you are miserable, Christ promises you rest if you come to Him.
Are you kept back by a deep sense of unworthiness? This is the very reason why you should come; Christ came to save sinners. The deeper your guilt, the greater your need of this Saviour. He saves none because their sins are small; He will reject none because their sins are great. He is as willing to receive the chief of sinners, as the amiable youth whose life has been stained with no acts of gross transgression. Where sin has abounded, grace shall much more abound. “This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all acceptance, that Jesus Christ came into the world to save sinners, of whom,” says Paul, “I am chief.” Come then with confidence, trusting in this great assurance: “Him that cometh to Me I will in no wise cast out”.
As your case is urgent and dangerous, let me entreat you to come at once. Make no delay. Delays are dangerous. Now is the accepted time. Now is the day of salvation. Enter while the door of mercy is open. Work out your salvation before the night comes when no work can be done. And the work you are required to perform is to believe on Him whom God has sent. You do not need to leave your seat to do so. “Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou shalt be saved.” Help is near. The Deliverer is present. It is as easy now to apply to Him as it ever can be. Take words and return to Him. Fall down before Him with confession and humble supplication, “for whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be saved”. Venture on Him, for you are perishing where you are, and you will only perish if He should slay you. But if you are rejected at His feet, you will be the first so to perish; for God cannot lie, and He has promised to receive the soul that comes.
4. What will be gained by coming to Christ? Only one thing is promised: “Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest”. But in this, everything good is included. Only they who are in a state of happiness are at rest, and true happiness can only be found in God’s favour. Can that man be at rest whose sins are not pardoned, whose passions are unsubdued, and on whom the wrath of God abides? “The wicked are like the troubled sea, which cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt. There is no peace, saith my God, to the wicked.” The wicked are like the evil spirit which went through dry places, seeking rest and finding none. They are constantly pursuing a phantom which for ever eludes their grasp. There is no foundation of solid rest in this world. Noah’s dove, which found no rest even for the sole of her foot, is an emblem of the restless condition of men.
But the same dove, returning to the ark, is an emblem of the distressed soul fleeing to Christ from the deluge of coming wrath. And how kind is that hand which is stretched out of the ark to take in the weary soul! Then indeed rest is enjoyed. “I will give you rest”, says the gracious Redeemer. And when He gives this precious blessing, it is found to be a sweet, permanent rest. It
is in no way different from the peace that Christ so emphatically promised: “Peace I leave with you, My peace I give unto you; not as the world giveth give I unto you. Let not your heart be troubled, neither let it be afraid.” It is Jesus’ declared will that the joy of His people should be full; so He says to His disciples, “Your sorrow shall be turned into joy”; “your heart shall rejoice, and your joy no man taketh from you”.
Delightful indeed is that peace which Jesus not only speaks, but breathes into the soul; and sweet is that rest which the weary soul experiences when it takes refuge, under the outstretched wings of His mercy, from the gathering storms of wrath. The troubled spirit not only rests from fear and remorse, but also from its own fruitless struggles, from the unprofitable works of self-righteousness; it finds complete repose in Christ’s perfect righteousness. A believing view of the cross causes the heavy burden of guilt to fall off. Although the coming soul bows to the yoke of Christ and takes up His burden, yet love makes His yoke easy and His burden light.
How sweet is the calm which the first exercise of faith in Christ produces! The light of day is not so pleasant to the eyes of one long immured in a dark dungeon as the light of his Father’s reconciled face to a prodigal returned from his wanderings. It is justly a day of feasting and rejoicing when one that was lost is found. How affectionately does the believing soul repose on the bosom of Jesus! And when His love is shed abroad in the heart, how precious is the communion it enjoys! Here truly it has found rest. But while in the body, these bright views are often obscured. While the Bridegroom is present, the bride rejoices, but when He is absent, she mourns and often inquires, “Saw ye Him whom my soul loveth?” If we lose sight of the object of faith; and, especially if sin is indulged and the Spirit grieved, darkness and sorrow will again visit the soul. Rest can only be found by coming again to Jesus, from whom it was first received; and as often as we come to Him, we find his promise verified; rest is obtained.
But whatever seasons of calm repose may be enjoyed here – whatever moments of “joy unspeakable and full of glory” – these are a mere foretaste of the river of pleasure which flows from the throne of God. Here pilgrimage is through a wilderness. But soon all the sorrow of God’s people shall cease, and they shall enter the rest which remains for them.
The last conflict of the believing soul is in death, for this is the last enemy. The last darkness which will ever be experienced is that of the valley of the shadow of death. “The bitterness of death” is the last which will ever be tasted. The swellings of Jordan are the last waves of sorrow which shall ever roll over such a soul. The last fiery dart which the enemy shall ever be permitted to aim at the friend of Christ will be cast then. And the last consciousness of in-
dwelling sin will be experienced in this hour. Admitting then that this is a dark passage, a painful agony, yet even here the Shepherd of Israel can give us rest. Even here, the Captain of salvation can make us more than conquerors. In the midst of the darkness of death, a celestial beam often shines to guide the heavy-laden traveller. Even the sting of death may be absent, and all fear and all doubt removed. Rest may be enjoyed on a dying bed. The pious dead sweetly rest in the bosom of Jesus. How calm, how confident, how abstracted from earth, how heavenly they sometimes appear, before they forsake their clay tabernacle, knowing that they have a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens!
But we should not make too much of the comforts of a dying hour. Some of God’s dear children pass through this gloomy way with scarce a ray to guide them. Some who in life enjoyed pleasing prospects of future bliss have had their day turned into night, and the death scene has been to them a tremendous conflict. The powers of darkness have been let loose to assault them; the light of divine favour has been withdrawn. Added to this, the confusion of physical derangement has contributed to spread over the pious mind a dense cloud. But still Christ is in the cloud; Christ has not forgotten His promise: “I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee”. He will shield His own from real evil and will speedily grant a rich recompense for every pang.
He especially knows how to sympathize with those dying in agony and under darkness; it was His own sore experience. How bitter was that cry above all others: “My God, My God, why hast Thou forsaken Me?” And in proportion as the agony is severe will He be prompt to grant deliverance. Desertion at such a time may be permitted so that the soul may know something of the intensity of the suffering of the Redeemer at that moment. But it is soon over. The passage, though dark, is short and the transition is glorious. When the sweetness of the promised rest is first enjoyed, it will bear some proportion to the bitterness of the death just escaped.
Heaven will be as truly a rest to those who die under a cloud as to those who then anticipated heaven. We need make no distinction; rest is promised to all, and the joy of all shall be full. If some experience greater delight than other believers, it is because they can take in more of the glory of that boundless ocean in which all swim. There indeed is rest: from labour, from trouble, from persecution, from sickness, from conflict and temptation, from doubt and fear, from sin – in short, rest from every evil, and the enjoyment of every good of which a purified, glorified, immortal soul is capable.
This then is the motive to induce you to come to Christ. All this and much more is included when He says, “Come unto Me, all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest”.
Hugh MacDonald1
Rev Walter Scott
Hugh MacDonald passed away, after a brief illness, early on the morning of Sabbath, 12 March 1905, aged 82. He was a worthy representative of a generation in Australia which is now almost extinct. He hailed from the West Highlands of Scotland and was one of the early settlers of the new country. The sterling piety which he exemplified marked him as one of a different race from the younger Australian. He was a man upright in his generation, “one that feared God and eschewed evil”.
Hugh MacDonald was born at Swordle, near Kilchoan, Ardnamurchan, in 1823. It was the time of the evictions. He was only a lad of about 15 when his widowed mother, with her two sons Hugh and John, like so many others in the Western Islands at that time, left their native shores, never to return. Their departure is still remembered by a few who yet survive in the district. They sailed in the emigrant ship Brilliant and, after a lengthened voyage of several months, landed safely in Sydney.
Mr MacDonald retained, to the last, vivid impressions of the scenes and companions left behind. In particular, he never forgot the old school near Swordle, and the occasional preaching there of Rev Alexander MacIntyre of Strontian, latterly of Geelong and Clarence River, Australia. Mr MacIntyre was the first who afterwards ministered in the historic floating church after the Disruption. When a site for the Strontian Free Church was refused, an iron church, seated for 750, was built on the Clyde, towed to the district and moored in Loch Sunart – access from both sides of the Loch being by boats.
In course of time, Mr MacIntyre followed his countrymen to Australia. During his visits to the Clarence River, where numbers of the Scots had settled, Mr MacDonald took his turn in conveying the eminent preacher to the places of service. For many years there were no roads for vehicles, and a boat was the only means of travelling. Such assistance, for many miles at a stretch, was cheerfully rendered. Often like a lion in the pulpit, Mr MacIntyre was gentle as a lamb in private. These Australian Highlanders flocked to “Mr Alexander’s” preaching from far and near.
1Taken with editing from The Free Presbyterian Magazine, vol 11, which has recently been reprinted by Free Presbyterian Publications (480 pages, £18.00). This is an example of the spiritual obituaries which it contains, along with much other profitable material. During his ministry, Rev Neil Cameron contributed many obituaries to the Free Presbyterian Magazine. A selection of these obituaries was brought together in Ministers and Men of the Free Presbyterian Church, and it also has been recently reprinted (240 pages, £12.50). Both these volumes are hardbacks. At the time of writing this article, Rev Walter Scott was labouring in the Grafton area; he later became Free Presbyterian minister in Chesley, Ontario.
Mr MacDonald had been deprived of his father in childhood but had the rare advantage of a godly mother, whose maiden name was Ann Cameron. A singularly-devout Christian, her memory is still fragrant wherever she was known. Her influence and example, during so many years, were quietly moulding his character. These were especially beneficial to him under the hardships which he was so early called to face. If he had to bear the yoke in his youth, it was also given him from a child to know the Scriptures.
Strangers in a strange land, the young family made their way, on arrival, to the Hunter River, an opening agricultural district to the north of Sydney. Later Mr MacDonald went farther north with his mother and settled on land on the Upper Clarence River. More distant from Sydney, everything there was dense scrub or forest. And when at length the home was prepared, in the fields of maize and sugar cane on either side and green pasture lands stretching far behind, nowhere out of Scotland could a truer hospitality have been found than at Dunfield, for many years his well-known residence on the river bank. It was equally available for catechising or cottage services.
Two events which marked Mr MacDonald’s career before he left the Hunter River may be noticed here. There, about 1847, he found his wife, Ann Macfarlane. She was a true helpmate but predeceased him by about 30 years – leaving him surrounded, however, by 11 children, all except one of whom still survive.2 The other event was the spiritual change which came over him a little prior to 1850. He had long been in soul trouble. He had been attending the ministrations of Rev William MacIntyre, of Maitland, afterwards of Sydney; and – according to his own testimony to a close friend – he found peace when one of Mr MacIntyre’s sermons was blessed to him. His life from that time reflected the change. When, soon after, he left the Hunter River for the Clarence, it was as one whose heart the Lord had touched. He had many vicissitudes to come through, but the profession then made was consistently maintained to the very last. That he was a fearer of God could not be hid.
He hungered for the Word and knew the voice of the Good Shepherd. Few had a keener discernment of any deviation from the truth, however veiled. He himself was scrupulous to walk in an even path in the matter of Church fellowship. He adhered to the Free Church testimony. He made conscience of attending the means of grace in connection with it, when possible, but he would not meddle with those who were given to change. He was an example in his observance of the Sabbath, and trained his family to keep it holy. Although hospitably disposed, he drew the line at Sabbath visiting – a prevailing practice with the majority – so it became generally understood that to him it was the Lord’s day. The Psalms and Shorter Catechism were the study of
2The article originally appeared in August 1906.
his children. One drawback may be mentioned: his insistence on conducting family worship always in Gaelic – a language which the younger part of the family had never been taught to understand. Others have acted similarly, but with evident disadvantage to their children.
When there was no regular public service, he was in his element at home with his Bible and other sacred reading, in Gaelic and English. Thomas Boston was a favourite with him, Thomas Halyburton also. He esteemed very highly the elder Thomas M’Crie’s writings. He had great mental vigour and such a thirst for spiritual knowledge that, with all his industriousness otherwise, he read largely in the works of the Puritans and Reformation divines. This proved most helpful to him in the comparative dearth of such public worship as he could countenance. He was latterly afflicted with a certain deafness, by which he frequently lost much of the sermon, but it would afford him pleasure to be able to add, as he often did, that he had heard all the prayers.
Yet he greatly desired “the sincere milk of the Word”, and what he missed of the preaching he sought to have supplied in reading. When he lighted on anything savoury to the soul, he so feasted on it as to be lost to all around him. This continued till within about a month of his end, although for long he had the use of only one eye. When opportunity occurred, he loved to propose, for mutual consideration, a portion of Scripture, on which he had been ruminating. At last, there were few like-minded with whom he could thus converse. He sadly lamented the desolations, as well as his own felt deadness. “Woe is me, for I am as when they have gathered the summer fruits, as the grape gleanings of the vintage: there is no cluster to eat: my soul desired the first ripe fruit. The good man is perished out of the earth” (Mic 7:1,2).
Mr MacDonald was cautious and deliberative in his manner, yet he was not one to hide his light under a bushel. He was not backward to question even comparative strangers as to their faith or their religious sentiments – even the Indians who were working for him. Such was his way of thinking and his superior intelligence, and much reading enabled him to speak to advantage. He liked especially to know one’s attitude to the Bible, in these days of infidelity. When, at any time, the response coincided with his own convictions, the glow which lit up his face showed it. He was uniformly kind to the coloured races, and many of them loved him
One of the old school, Mr MacDonald not only appreciated the principles of the Reformation Church, but was able to give a reason of his hope when necessary. He stood aloof from the defections in doctrine and worship of the Union Presbyterian Church, deploring their looseness, as he termed it. The expulsion of the more faithful brethren, in 1884, from the Synod of Eastern Australia likewise grieved him, in common with all the truest friends of the
cause. At that date he, with the greater part of the local congregation, ceased to attend public worship, owing to the minister siding with the prevailing party. For years there was only an occasional service by a visiting minister which he could countenance.
It was not until 1896, soon after the induction of the writer as pastor of the Brushgrove-Grafton charge, that he was able to resume regular church attendance. He was elected to the eldership, but his advanced years precluded him from acting. He proved a strength to the cause in many ways, and his tall, venerable figure is sadly missed. He was a lover of Zion. Her low condition lay much on his heart. He mourned the defection of so many of his countrymen to the Union, and the lapsing of many more from all church attendance. He felt deeply the division occasioned in 1884, and its disastrous consequences. Yet he was not in favour of moving from the constitutional position, and deprecated any union except in the truth. “The Lord doth build up Jerusalem: He gathereth together the outcasts of Israel” (Ps 147:2). He followed the events in the Scottish Churches, and was specially interested in the Free Presbyterian Church of Scotland, in her rise and subsequent progress. He appreciated The Free Presbyterian Magazine and its Gaelic sermon.
Mr MacDonald had a lifetime of almost unbroken health. He was therefore more sensitive, at the last, to the change which indicated that the night was at hand. He often testified to the warnings which such symptoms meant to him. His great concern was to have a sense of preparation in view of a near eternity. His last illness was short. He was deeply affected when he ascertained that death was considered near.
“Do you think that I am prepared?” he asked, adding, “Pray for me, that I may be prepared. I have been a great sinner.” He was told that Christ is a great Saviour. “Yes,” he replied; “He is a great Saviour to His own people.” He was reminded that Christ is a great Saviour for sinners, and the chief of sinners; that it was to the sinner He said: “Look unto Me, and be ye saved,” and, “Him that cometh to Me, I will in no wise cast out”. He wept and remained silent. He was asked: “All your hope is in Christ’s death, is it not?” He answered at once, “Where else could it be?” The text was quoted: “The eye of the Lord is upon them that fear Him, upon them that hope in His mercy”.
He was asked if he remembered how Thomas was made to exclaim, “My Lord and my God”, and the Saviour’s response to him: “Thomas, because thou hast seen Me, thou hast believed . . .”. He finished the verse thus: “. . . blessed are they that saw Me not, and yet have believed.” (He was wont to translate from Gaelic when quoting in English.) When he was directed to what David said: “The Lord is my Shepherd”, he remarked, “That’s in the Twenty-third”, and he continued the quotation from verse 4: “Yea, though
I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil”. He was overcome, and paused there. When John 14:18 was then quoted, he repeated it thus: “I will not leave you orphans”.
At this point he said, “I have a literal knowledge of the Scriptures; but what will that avail without anything else?” In response to the statement, “But they are precious to you”, he admitted that he got comfort from them. On being asked, “You would not be without them, would you?” he exclaimed, solemnly: “Ah, it would be very dark without them”. Later on he expressed a longing for release from the body. It was his last day on earth. Referring to his suffering, he remarked: “God has not dealt out to me a drop more than I deserved. I needed it all. I have been a great sinner.” The words were repeated to him: “Whom the Lord loveth, He chasteneth”. Having fallen asleep, he passed quietly away early on the Sabbath morning.
“And I heard a voice from heaven saying unto me, Write, Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth: yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labours; and their works do follow them” (Rev 14:13).