*This interesting story is from the pen of the late Rev. James Ormiston, Rector of St. Mary-le-port, Bristol, a worthy minister of the Church of England, and Editor for many years of the “Gospel Magazine.”—Editor.
THE following narrative, the incidents in which have been carefully verified, supplies a forcible illustration of the Divine truth that—”The way of man is not in himself; (that) it is not in man that walketh to direct his steps” (Jer. x. 23).
Several years since, I undertook the duties of a summer chaplaincy in the Austrian Tyrol, under the auspices of the Colonial and Continental Church Society. Divine service was held at a hotel in the University town of Innsbrück, where, during the months of May, June, and July, numbers of English and American travellers—en route northwards from Italy—usually break their journey.
Innsbrück, the chief town of Tyrol, contains about 15,000 inhabitants, who, inasmuch as the blessed Reformation never penetrated the place, are, with rare exceptions, confirmed Roman Catholics. Owing to the powerful influence of the priesthood, the English Protestant services partake of a semi-private character, few persons beyond those staying in the Hotel d’Autriche itself attending them. Amongst those sojourning in the hotel at the time of my visit were the Countess of R—and her family, from Ireland. Her ladyship had quite recently suffered a sore bereavement, and my ministrations, being sought, were gladly rendered. On one occasion, when the exercises peculiar to the preacher of God’s Word formed the topic of conversation, Lady R. observed for my encouragement that she was acquainted with a remarkable case in which the Holy Spirit had richly blessed a deeply troubled soul notwithstanding that the minister in the pulpit was literally unable to utter a sentence, or even a word on the passage of Scripture he announced as his text. Briefly, the facts were these. A gifted and godly young clergyman called on a friend, a brother minister, in the Isle of Man. The usual week-evening service falling on the same day, the visitor was invited to preach.
At first he hesitated, remarking that he had no message. His friend replied that, no doubt, the Lord would supply him with a subject if he waited upon Him. He then consented, and laid the matter before his heavenly Master. The portion he obtained was the word:—”Stand fast therefore in the liberty wherewith Christ hath made us free, and be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage” (Gal. v. 1).
The preacher announced his text from the pulpit. Having done so, however, his mind suddenly became a perfect blank. All his thoughts upon the passage disappeared.* In the humble hope of recovering himself, he gave out the text a second time. His lips, however, were again mysteriously sealed! It was the sovereign hand of the Lord. “The Spirit suffered him not” (Acts xvi. 7). Confounded and humiliated, he closed the service. Not a word of exposition, doctrine, precept, promise, or experience was allowed to be uttered. The distressed minister of Christ hurriedly left the place next day, and long hoped that the incident of his failure would be forgotten. Jehovah’s thoughts, however, were otherwise. His will was to glorify Himself at the expense of the “earthen vessel.” “Head over all things to the Church.” Jesus claimed His two-fold prerogative—”He openeth, and no man shutteth;” also “He shutteth, and no man openeth” (Rev. iii. 7). True, the dependent preacher’s lips were sealed. The Lord shut them, and no power of man could open them. Yet, in the face of all apparent failure, there was a secret sovereign work of grace going on in the heart of one of those present who waited in vain for a Gospel sermon. There was a silent, yet effectual operation of the Holy Spirit’s prospering in a solitary soul amongst the congregation—an “opening” of the door for the captive, and a bringing out into that liberty, wherewith Christ has made His redeemed ones free, of one whom Satan had long bound and buffeted, and sorely wounded.
*In the words of one who dearly loved him—”He has often told me that a cloud came over his brain which seemed to hinder him from remembering or uttering one single thing relating to his text.”
Time rolled by. About ten years later the discouraged minister was, in God’s providence, spending an evening at Cheltenham. He was introduced to a lady then present, who, after some preliminary remarks, inquired whether he was the clergyman who a long while before had preached in a certain church in the Isle of Man. He replied that he had failed to preach on the occasion. He trusted that the painful incident had been forgotten. The lady, however, said she could tell him something that took place on that occasion, the knowledge of which would much gratify him.
The substance of the lady’s narrative was this—and the reader will, no doubt, trace in it the wondrous hand of Him whom the Psalmist thus celebrates—”The Lord looseth the prisoners: the Lord openeth the eyes of the blind: the Lord raiseth them that are bowed down: the Lord loveth the righteous” (Ps. cxlii. 7, 8). A young Christian who, owing to reduced circumstances, had accepted the post of companion to a former friend, a godly person of position, was present at the service when the preacher essayed in vain to deliver his Master’s message. This young lady had for some time been sorely tempted by Satan, and had temporarily lost her faith and joy in Jesus. So low had her poor heart fallen into the gloom of despair that she had gone the length of determining to cease all attendance on the public means of grace. Her friend besought her to go with her just once more to hear the Word of the Gospel. She yielded. The lady then pleaded with the Lord that some suitable truths might be spoken that night to meet the peculiar exigencies of this tried one’s soul. They both attended the service. Great indeed was the distress of the lady when not a word was forthcoming from the strange minister who occupied the pulpit. Only the text—reiterated—not a comment was uttered. The service closed and the congregation broke up.
Too troubled and perplexed was the lady to speak to her companion while they walked away together. At last, however, the silence was broken by her who thought God had utterly forsaken her, and that she was verily a reprobate. “That was a man of God?”—she asked of her friend. Having been satisfied on the point, she continued—”The Lord has deserted him to-night, probably to show me that I was only deserted for a time.” From that evening, to quote from a letter lying before me, written by the dear minister of God himself—”She has been the happiest Christian I know.”
Such is an outline of the remarkable narrative Lady R—kindly recounted to encourage me amidst the sharp spiritual exercises inseparable from the solemn duty of feeding the Lord’s flock with fresh pastures, and of setting before His household a change of shew-bread from Sabbath to Sabbath. I asked for the name of the clergyman, with other particulars. Lady R— said he was still living and that she knew him well. Not to enlarge; the day subsequently came when, on a visit to Ireland, I had the great pleasure of being introduced to him myself by my beloved brother in the Lord, Capt. James Kearney White, of Dublin, and of hearing from his own lips the details of the Isle of Man episode. As I sat at the tea table with the Rev. Canon E. P. Brooke at lovely Rostrevor, talking over the inscrutable ways of our God with His redeemed, I asked permission to publish, in the interests of “the flock of slaughter,” and for the glory of the Master, an account of the marvellous deliverance of the young lady whom “the accuser of the brethren” had so grievously tormented. The dear aged servant of Christ wavered, till he fully recognised the service that might be rendered to the Church of God by a recital of the story, and then leave was lovingly accorded. Since that never-to-be-forgotten afternoon—the only occasion on which I ever met dear Canon Brooke—he has exchanged the Gospel service field for the heavenly rest, at the ripe age of ninety-two.
Mine it is now to fulfil the long cherished purpose of my heart by presenting the beloved people of God with his extraordinary and thoroughly truthful narrative of Jehovah’s mysterious operations in grace, and of how—
“Deep in unfathomable mines
Of never-failing skill
He treasures up His bright designs,
And works His sovereign will.”
What the various lessons designed by the Lord for His ministering servant were, thus early in his prolific pastoral life, it is impossible to assert with accuracy. But the humility and docility of Canon Brooke’s Christian character may be illustrated by a quotation from a letter written by his eldest daughter, lately addressed to me. “He told me,” that lady observed—”he was at that time over-confident in his own strength, and the shock that his utter helplessness gave him led him to cast himself more upon a higher strength.” Thus, “out of weakness” was he “made strong.” Probably, life-long lessons were derived from that humiliating early experience, and the secret of Canon Brooke’s power in the pulpit, as a faithful preacher of the Gospel of the free Grace of God, may be traced to an incident well calculated to enforce God’s all-important truth that salvation is—”Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit.” For, this reverend servant of Christ was truly abundant in labour. Formerly an officer in H.M.’s 62nd Regiment, he fostered through life the habit of self-command, while to obey the mandate of his Divine Captain—”Preach the Gospel to every creature”—was the all-absorbing aim of his soul. Not merely amongst the inhabitants of the important parishes in Ireland to which he was appointed did he unceasingly proclaim the Word of God’s Grace. His yearning heart went out after the scattered sheep for whom Christ died wherever they could be found between Giant’s Causeway and Cape Clear. That truly Apostolic Society—”The Scripture Readers’ Society for Ireland”—established in 1822 by Canon Brooke’s brother (the Right Hon. William Brooke) in association with the late Lord Chief Justice Lefroy, the late Earl of Roden, and the late Lord Powerscourt, offered this true-hearted man of God an admirable agency for the propagation of the Gospel amongst Ireland’s entire population. Accordingly, the claims of that Society ever occupied the warmest corner in his heart. As a member of its Committee, as a Superintendent of the Scripture Readers, and as Rector of parishes in which the Society’s agents laboured, he delighted to disseminate the pure truths of God’s soul-saving Word alike amongst the Roman Catholic millions, and those who—nominally Protestants—lacked the one thing needful. His faith in the efficacy of the Scriptures, when applied by the Holy Spirit to the sinner’s heart and conscience, was deep and strong. In this particular he was a striking contrast to many religious teachers in these days of “new methods” and novel expedients.
The Gospel of the sovereign Grace of God, he knew, needs no humanly-devised accessories to make it “the power of God unto salvation to everyone that believeth.” It is the power of God (Rom. i. 16). “The flesh,” and fleshly co-operation with the Spirit, “profit nothing” (John vi. 63). The Word, and the Word alone—the two-edged Sword of the Spirit—is mighty and all-sufficient to accomplish “all the counsel of God” (Acts xx. 27).
That the Lord does not really need an “earthen vessel” for the success of His salvation purposes may be seen by the case of Canon Brooke. The Spirit of life can work by man, or without man. Yet, God has deigned to appoint that, “by the foolishness of preaching,” He will save everlastingly all those who graciously rely on the finished atoning work of Jesus. What sweet encouragement is this for all who labour in the Word and Doctrine of Christ! Indeed, the foregoing narrative of facts is fruitful in lessons of cheer for both sowers and reapers, for speakers and hearers.
Weary sowers are bidden by it not to judge of ministerial success from immediate results, but to patiently “sow beside all waters,” leaving to the Lord of the Harvest the apportionment of results. “So, then, neither is he that planteth anything, neither he that watereth; but God that giveth the increase” (I. Cor. iii. 7). Reapers may well learn that the sovereign and gracious Lord of the Harvest, who put it into the heart of Boaz to order the reapers, for Ruth’s sake, to “let fall some of the handfuls of purpose for her” (Ruth ii. 16), knows well the spiritual circumstances of each one of His soul-tried people, and that He will certainly supply the needs of such in His own inscrutable way, and at His own set time. The case of her who waited on the ministry of God’s Word for a token of mercy, and yet the Lord “answered her not a word,” was in the end, as we have seen, not disappointed of her earnest expectation. Though it was not in her way, but in His way, yet she was divinely set at liberty. Her soul was brought up out of the “horrible pit” of despair, her feet were set upon Christ the Rock, and the ever-faithful indwelling Spirit ordered her going in the paths of light, peace, and freedom. No one, therefore, is justified in concluding—however desperate his spiritual condition—that his soul’s case is past divine remedy. “The things which are impossible with men are possible with God” (Luke xviii. 27). Again, those whom the Spirit has commissioned to speak in Christ’s Holy Name may well receive stimulus from Canon Brooke’s remarkable experience. It is well to rely on the Lord wholly on every occasion when we are called upon to testify His Truth, and to speak only as He grants spiritual utterance. How practically the Apostle Paul realised this important habit we gather from his fervent request for the intercessory prayers of the Ephesian saints—”That utterance may be given unto me” (Ephesians vi. 19). It is only as the Spirit of Revelation purges and opens the lips that any teacher can really show forth the praises of the Lamb. Finally, exercised hearers will do well to remember the case of her whom Satan so cruelly bound, and who “could in no wise lift up herself,” and to trace with encouragement the marvellous way in which the God of pity severed her stringent bonds and set her for ever at large. To be “swift to hear” is assuredly a token for good. For, “faith cometh by hearing, and hearing by the Word of God.”
Beloved reader, have you tasted that the Lord Jesus is gracious, and that those whom He sets free are free indeed? If so, “stand fast” in that glorious blood-bought liberty, and, watching unto prayer, see that you “be not entangled again with the yoke of bondage.”