THE November number conveyed to our readers the sad tidings of the removal by death of one of the excellent of the earth, in the person of Roderick Mackenzie, Achmore. He was not a man that was very widely known, but where he was known he was greatly esteemed. That was especially the case as regards the estimation in which he was held by those of the Lord’s people who knew him, and we believe we shall have their concurrence when we say of him, that he was one of the heaviest grains of heaven’s wheat to be met with in these last years on the west coast of Ross-shire.
He was born about the year 1837. He was about twenty-five years of age when he was awakened to realise the preciousness of his soul. A sermon preached by his worthy pastor, Rev. George Macleod, of Lochbroom, from the words, “I will not execute the fierceness of mine anger, . . . for I am God, and not man, . . .” (Hosea xi. 9), appears to have been made use of by the Holy Spirit to bring about this blessed result. Into many details of his experience at this time we are unable to enter. We had it on excellent authority that his conviction of sin was remarkably deep. For ourselves, we have known him only in a ripe old age, but if Christ’s sheep are to be known by their fruit, we should assuredly judge, from the fruit that Roderick bore, that his conversion was a sound one.
When in the prime of life his calling was that of a fisherman. In that capacity he was wont, with many of his fellow-parishioners, to resort in summer to one or other of the fishing stations on the east coast of Aberdeenshire. While following his lawful calling, he made the impression upon those with whom he came in contact of being a truly God-fearing man—a man altogether of sterling worth.
It is about thirty years since he made an open profession of his having found mercy, by coming forward to the Lord’s Table. To appear before the minister or Kirk-Session as an applicant for this privilege caused Roderick great searchings of heart, and it was only because he was pressed in his soul to come forward that he at all ventured to offer himself for examination. His minister, Mr. Macleod, already referred to, had such an impression of Roderick’s worth that it was a sincere pleasure to him to see Roderick coming thus forward to make an open profession of his faith, and, on account of his esteem for him, scarcely questioned him at all. This, however, afterwards was a source of sore temptation to Roderick, for he was one of those who might truly say that of Satan’s devices he was not ignorant. Roderick was a very humble Christian, thinking himself less than any of the Lord’s people, whilst holding those whom he believed to be genuine in the highest esteem. Few things grieved him more than to see professing Christians conducting themselves in a noisy or conspicuously self-important way. “I would rather,” he would say, “see them weeping.”
For many years Roderick had been, by his fragrant manner of life in private, and by his gift of concise utterance in public, a strength to the Lord’s cause in the district in which his home lay. When a testimony had to be raised for public truth in Scotland, in 1893, Roderick unhesitatingly stood out for the good old ways, and this fact helped the Free Presbyterian cause valuably in the parish of Lochbroom. The Synod, recognising his worth, a few years since appointed him as missionary in the neighbouring district of Laide. The duties of this office, as long as the state of his health permitted, he sought to perform in a conscientious way. Both at Scorraig, where, in the fellowship and company of his life-long friend and brother elder, Mr. John MacIver, he helped to conduct religious services for many years, and at Laide, with which as missionary he was latterly connected, he will be long and mournfully missed. The small salary which the Synod appointed him appears to have given him no end of trouble. He never got his small allowance but it left him sick for days, as he thought himself so unworthy of any remuneration for services which he reckoned himself so unfit to discharge. An intimate and appreciative friend, who now, not without cause, mourns his loss, writes:—”It was not on account of his words that he was so much esteemed as a Christian, although his words were of great value, but on account of his care to keep always to the Word of God, in his walk, conversation, and counsels.” Yet a few sayings of his which occur to us, and which reveal his real character, may conclude this too brief notice. On occasions, he came to sad conclusions about his own state, thinking himself out of the secret of wherein genuine piety lay altogether. In such states he would so pensively, and with much longing to know the truth, say: “I wonder what like are the thoughts of the truly good.”
As the friend already quoted says, the carnal mind was killing him, for he feared that what he once hoped was the new birth in his own experience was not like what the Lord’s true people had experienced. This aspect of his life was very conspicuous in his utterances at the Friday Fellowship Meetings on Communion seasons. On such an occasion we have heard him mournfully say, “As for the carnal mind—her fingers are so black, she cares not what forbidden thing she lays hold of.” But on other occasions he spoke much more hopefully regarding his own state. For instance, we have heard him at one of those Fellowship Meetings state his case thus: “I’ll be putting the question to myself, whether I am worse now than before I made any profession of religion at all? And I am inclined to answer in the affirmative. Then another question presents itself—Is it because some new principle, which I had not brought with me into the world, came into my heart, that I feel so much worse? And I am not without hope that it is just so.” And we have heard him at times speak as one who, if he had not an assured conviction, yet had strong hope that the Lord had dealt graciously with his soul. In such frames he would not conceal from his most intimate friends how, in difficulties and distresses, he had gone to the Lord in prayer, and what tokens he had of having received an answer in peace.
For ourselves, we shall miss him much for the genuine ring that characterised every word he said; we shall miss him for the insight which he had into the conflict which is waging between the carnal mind and the spiritual mind in the people of God, and for the interesting and terse way in which he could state it; we shall miss him most of all for his unfeigned love, and for his deep and deepening humility.
He is survived by a widow, for whom the sincerest sympathy is felt.
J. R. M.