Fake Affections

'Still it should not be forgotten, lest any deceive themselves, that to talk about religion, ministers and sermons, missions and missionaries, religious schemes and books, revivalists and revivals, is not religion.  Some have been the most fluent talkers about things who felt them least.  Shallow rivers are commonly noisy rivers; and the drum is loud because it is hollow.  Fluency and feeling don't always go together.  On the contrary, some men are most sparing of speech when their feelings are most deeply engaged.'  Dr Thomas Guthrie

How do we respond when people who we admire and look up to in the Christian faith fall very publicly? How do we explain it when it transpires that people have been leading a double life: pretending to be one thing in public but something else altogether in private?  People use all sorts of cliches; 'we all have feet of clay', 'the best of men are men at best', 'who are we to judge?', 'but by the grace of God'.  Of course they are all true. All of our hearts are deceitfully wicked, we are all guilty of hypocrisy. There are examples in the Bible of gross backsliding and saints leading a double life for a period of time.  But for most of us who love the Lord, we have a sense of our own weakness, we are conscious of how dependent we need to be on the Lord.  Yes we fall into sin but the true follower of Christ is unhappy in their sin and we seek to confess our sins and restore our relationship with the Lord. We hate duplicity and seek to follow a life of integrity.  We would love to be holier and more like Christ. But what of those who cultivate a secret life over years or even decades? Those who appear to be pillars in the church?  How can we explain their great zeal that turns out to be empty rhetoric?  

I was reading this morning from Jonathan Edwards about the difference between great 'religious affections' (love, zeal for the things of God) and affections which are gracious and saving: 'It is no evidence that religious affections are of a spiritual nature and gracious nature because they are great.' Affections can be 'faux' - false or fake.  Paul addresses this in Galatians where he talks in chapter 4 v 15 'Where is then the blessedness ye spake of?  for I bear you record, that, if it had been possible, ye would have plucked out your own eyes, and have given them to me.'  There was no questioning their zeal but it was misplaced.  He says a few verses earlier: 'I am afraid of you, lest I have bestowed upon you labour in vain.'  The Galatians had great affections and zeal but had another gospel altogether (Galatians 1 v 7).

We see this so often with the Children of Israel.  Remember how they were greatly exercised after crossing the Red Sea? They were full of praise for God and how he had delivered them but it was soon forgotten and the grumbling started.  It was the same at Mount Sinai.  Again they saw marvellous manifestations of God's power and holiness.  It all seemed so promising.  The people agreed to the book of the covenant and said in Exodus 24 v 7 'All that the Lord hath said we will do, and be obedient.'  We are told that 70 elders went up with Moses and Aaron and 'saw God' v 10.  It was not long before they were dancing before a golden calf.

We also see it in the life of Jesus.  Those who saw him perform great miracles and cried Hosanna! were so quick to scream with the mob crucify Him!  Those who screamed for his cruel death were the ones who he had fed, healed, taught and loved. As Edwards says: 'It is very manifest by the holy scripture, our sure and infallible rule to judge of things in this nature, that there are religious affections which are very high, that are not spiritual and saving.' We see this with Judas.  He was so indignant when Mary anointed the feet of Jesus in John 12.  Judas spoke up like a noble social reformer asking why the perfume hadn't been sold and give to the poor?  Everyone must have looked on Judas with such admiration but little did they know what was in his heart. We have every reason to believe that Judas was a good preacher and there are likely people in heaven today because they heard the gospel through Judas.

It is not great affections that are a mark of grace, neither frenetic activity, but genuine love for God. The great question for all of us is 'are we in Christ?'  A lifetime of Christian service, a long Christian heritage, a great reputation, the adoration of men and great orthodoxy will all count for nothing unless we are in union with Jesus Christ.  If we are in Christ (the vine) we will bear good fruit.  As Paul asks in Galatians 5 v 16 are we 'walking in the Spirit or fulfilling the lusts of the flesh?'  Are we seeing the fruits of the Spirit in our life?  Do we see love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, self control in our lives in some measure?  These are sobering questions for all of us.  For those of us in the Christian life for many years we often feel our sin worse than when we first believed. But we know that without God's grace we have nothing. We are lost for time and eternity.  We can deceive men but God sees and God knows.  As Dr Guthrie says: 'It is not, therefore, what we profess, but practise; it is not what a man says with his tongue, or signs with his hand, but what he does with his heart, that settles his religion in the sight of God, and on that great day of judgement shall settle his fate.'

Radical Hospitality

Back in February I met, for the first time, Catriona Murray from North Tolsta.  It is always good to meet another Murray (there is rarely a gap in conversation) but I was delighted to meet Catriona because I had read her testimony in the Stornoway Free Church Newsletter a few days earlier.  I asked if I could re-publish her testimony on my blog and in only 8 weeks it has been read by 1200 people around the world.  You can read it by clicking here.  Since then Catriona has become a prolific blogger and we have agreed to occasionally write for each other.  We share an interest in the 'radical roots' of the Free Church and we both hope to blog on this subject in the future.  This is her latest excellent contribution - enjoy!

'Radical' is probably not the first word most people would choose to describe the Free Church of Scotland. That, however, is probably because of a double misunderstanding: a failure to grasp what 'radical' means; and a failure to comprehend what the Free Church is.

Last summer, Stornoway Free Church did something which some probably saw as radical. I mean, it's all relative, but I'm fairly sure that Sy FC is not known for its 'out-there' approach to life. However, like a lot of dear old things that are written off as set in their ways, it surprised everyone - twice over.

First of all, it opened its doors to visitors - tourists and islanders alike were invited to simply come in and look around. Still a relatively new member, I volunteered to be a 'greeter'. No actual weeping was involved, though I did do some gnashing of teeth beforehand. After all, what would we talk about to visitors? I feverishly imagined myself, for want of anything better to say, pointing out the years of varnish build-up on the pews, or offering such gems as, 'if we had an organ, it would probably be in that corner'. Oh, me of little faith. That's not how it was at all. It turned out, as I should have realised, that a warm welcome and sharing our love of Christ was enough. Of course it was.

Secondly, on the busiest Sunday of the Stornoway calendar - Hebridean Celtic Festival weekend - the church hall was open, offering free Sunday breakfast. People stumbled, bleary-eyed and stiff, out of their tents and caravans, into a drizzly, grey morning. Their day was cheered considerably by an invitation to come and eat with the Stornoway congregation, in the warmth and comfort of the MA Macleod Memorial Hall. The thing is, as quite a few people told me, they didn't expect this sort of thing from the Free Church. Surely, instead of sharing bacon rolls and coffee with them, the minister ought to have been living up to the Calvinist stereotype and denouncing their music and dancing from the pulpit? 'When I heard that a church was doing breakfast today, I assumed it was Martin's Memorial', one local told me, alluding to our more down with the kids C of S neighbour. And, I have to admit, I would probably have made the same assumption, had I been in their wellies.

Being radical in this way isn't just about quashing the tired old image of nay-saying Wee Frees, though. In fact, it's not remotely about that - seeing the surprised delight on people's faces is just an added bonus - but it is about fulfilling what Christ requires of us. Something which is radical is simply that which has roots, and the Free Church was founded on that highest principle of all: refusal to submit to any headship except that of the Lord Jesus Christ. His words in the Gospel of Matthew affirm that what Stornoway Free Church did last summer was nothing less than obedience to Christ's example:

'For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in.'

The only reward that Christians seek in doing as their Lord bids is the increase of His kingdom and glory. Sometimes, they have to be content with obedience and trust the rest to Him, that He will bless the effort made - but sometimes, they have the encouragement of seeing fruit for their labours. 

In a curious sequence of events, I have met two different visitors who took breakfast with us on that Sunday last July. Both were affected by the simple, Christian love demonstrated, and by the worship in which they shared afterwards. And both are now in a relationship with Christ that is changing their lives.

In 1846, three years after the establishment of the Free Church, it was the first agency to respond to famine in the Highlands. The collection of funds called for by Rev. Thomas Chalmers was one of the single largest collections ever made by a Scottish church, for any purpose. There is, of course, still literal hunger in our midst, which must be met. Spiritual hunger too stalks our land. If we are prepared, the two can be sated, for 'Man shall not live by bread alone, but by every word that comes out of the mouth of God'. Our duty, our radical calling, is surely to bring the stranger in to sit at our table, and offer him both.

Living a Grace Paced Life

I'm looking forward to reading David Murray's new book 'Reset: Living a Grace Paced Life in a Burnout Culture.'  He has created a Facebook page with interviews and clips if you want a preview and there are other resources available here. I've benefited hugely from David's ministry, writing and blogging over the years. Like David (although he has made big changes), I suffer from a frenetic work ethic.  I take a huge amount of my identity from my work and struggle to relax.  I tend to be involved in lots of different things and can't understand why other people can't do the same.  If I'm being honest (and this is difficult to admit) I can feel that a huge amount depends on me, which of course is very arrogant.  I can be quietly (and sometimes not so quietly) scathing about others who don't have the same drive and pace as a I do.  

I was chatting to a close friend recently about his minister and church life.  He told me that the minister does everything at break neck speed and questions anyone in the church who isn't willing to be on every rota and give 100% all the time.  The strain has an effect on family life and not surprisingly the ministry is facing some big challenges.  This frenetic activity can often hide deeper problems where success and growth become more important than integrity and spiritual fruit.  As my friend described his minister I had a pang of guilt that I have some similar traits.

It is easy to live in a burnout culture in Christian service.  I have been guilty of it for years.  Working long hours, out every evening, preaching most weekends, blogging, writing, speaking and firefighting crisis can become part of our identity.  It is hard to admit, but sometimes we act as if everything depends on us.

Last weekend I went to a place where things are much slower and centred very much on God: the family home in Sutherland. We have been going there as a family since I was a baby.  It was once a busy Highland Croft but it is now overgrown and silent except for the migrating birds flying over the Dornoch Firth.  It has been the family home for well over 100 years.  My uncle Willie stays there on his own and the house has hardly changed in 50 years. There is no TV, no broadband (despite my best efforts to set it up when I was there) and facilities are basic and rustic.  On the plus side there are lots of books.

It is a while since I have stayed with my uncle, but certain things struck me very powerfully while I was there.  Firstly, my uncle is very content. He spends his life listening to sermons, reading books (very old books) and attending church up in Brora.  Far from being bitter or resentful, Willie is incredibly thankful - a gratitude that comes out time and time again in his wonderfully intimate prayers.  God is at the centre of his life and worship permeates every day. Despite his own musical limitations, he insists that we sing a Psalm at every worship - such is his love for the praise of God.  When he prays, he is not putting on an act, or finding flowery Biblical language, he actually knows and loves God.  Even at 81, he still gets down on his knees during worship and approaches God with the utmost reverence. He quotes Scripture liberally and sincerely particularly the metrical Psalms that he has sung all his life. When I was up last weekend he said: 'one of my greatest regrets in life was never memorising the 119th Psalm.'  As always after a visit, I have started memorising scripture again.

Secondly, Willie knows what it is to fear God.  The fear of God is something that is never spoken about in the modern church - we think it will put people off.  Psalm 19 v 9 tells us that 'Unspotted is the fear of God, and doth endure for ever.' There is something clean and pure about fearing God. We are told that it is the beginning of wisdom.  Far from being a slavish fear, true fear of God is a loving respect for God.  When it is rightly understood, and lived out, it is something that is incredibly attractive.  It makes us walk gently in this world, it gives us a right view of sin, it gives us a high view of scripture, and it keeps us in a spirit of repentance.  More than anything, the fear of God gives us a deep, deep humility.  The modern church has become infected with the cult of personality.  Energetic and visionary leaders are held up as almost messianic figures who will turn the tide of decline in Scotland.  Others who patiently and faithfully minister away in relative obscurity are overlooked as old fashioned and stuck in the past. I'm always amazed at how reluctant my uncle is to offer a view on anything despite his years of reading.  He has a deep humility which prevents him from pronouncing on contentious subjects and church politics.  

Thirdly, everything at Lonemore is slow.  There is no rush, no deadlines.  It is one day at a time.  I genuinely loose track of time when I am staying with Willie.  Few plans are fixed ahead of time.  The phone is often unplugged in case it disturbs worship.  If ever anyone lived a grace paced life, it is my uncle.  He worships with people of a like mind.  The service on Sunday morning in Brora was full of reverence.  Just before the service started a lady shuffled along and sat beside me. It was none other than the mother of David Murray.  Maureen and Alan Murray are perhaps one of the best examples of a couple who live a grace paced life.  No doubt David was able to take some inspiration from his parents when writing his latest book. The preacher, the Rev John Morrison, handled the Bible with the utmost care and spoke passionately about the need for the 'wisdom which is from above' in James 3 v 17-18.  He preached without notes and as always was full of encouragement when I spoke to him afterwards.  I don't think he has changed in 30 years.

After lunch I headed over to Bonar Bridge to peach in the Gair Hall.  My Grandfather, Alex Murray, who was an elder in Dornoch used to preach in Bonar before his death in 1970.  It was encouraging to see the hall fairly full for the evening service with a few new faces out from when I last preached 4 years ago.  Whatever else is true of Lairg and Bonar Bridge Free Church, the Gair Hall must have one of the nicest view of any church in Scotland.  Supper at the Lairg Manse was hearty and busy. Freshly laid eggs, poached on toast were enjoyed in conversation with 5 lively kids.  It was great, as always to hear of the encouragements and challenges of a rural ministry and I went to bed filled with admiration for Mary and John Forbes.  On any given Sunday, John preaches in Lairg, Bonar Bridge, Lochinver and Bonar Bridge in the evening.  If they were giving out awards for gimmicks and novelty, John would be at the back of the queue.  Instead he exercises a quiet, faithful and consistent ministry in a place that long ago lost its rich spiritual heritage. We hope and pray that he will know encouragement in the days ahead.

I'm so thankful for my uncle and the help I have received over the years from visiting Lonemore.  My little tour of Sutherland en route to Ullapool, reminded me of a different way of life.  It is a slower, deeper, more thoughtful, and deeply God centred lifestyle.  It was a rebuke to my frenetic, undisciplined and at times spiritually shallow existence.  I need to remember that rest is not weakness.  If God rested on the seventh day maybe we need to do likewise.  I need to stop living on the edge of my physical, emotional and spiritual resources.  I need to learn how to say no to invitations and commitments.  

So what can I/we do?  This infographic is very helpful.  It reminds us that making time for spiritual disciplines, Christian community, godly counsel, family and cutting down time at work can all help to avoid burnout and help us live a more grace paced life.  Rather than having a packed week perhaps we need to create space where we are intentionally relaxing and recharging.  We need to invest in relationships, family and most of all we need to spend time with God.  We need to spend more time waiting on God and less time trying to save the world.  We all need to have a 'reset' sometimes.  I think my one is long overdue.

The 'Common' Duties of the Christian

I recently came across this Dr Guthrie quote in his book 'The Angels Song' which is available as a Kindle book.  It is vintage Guthrie and as always reveals his great respect for the Christian involved in the nitty gritty of everyday work.

"But people are too apt to suppose that religion lies mainly, if not exclusively, in prayers, reading the Bible, listening to sermons, and attending on sacraments; in time spent, or work done, or offerings made, or sacrifices endured, for what are called, in common language, religious objects. These are the means, not the end. He who rises from his knees to his daily task, and, with an eye not so much to please men as God, does it well, carries divine worship to the workshop, and throws a sacred halo around the ordinary secularities of life. That, indeed, may be the highest expression of religion; just as it is the highest expression of devoted loyalty to leave the precincts of the court and the presence of the sovereign, to endure the hardships of a campaign, and stand in soiled and tattered regimentals by the king's colours amid the deadly hail of battle. He who goes to common duties in a devout and Christian spirit proves his loyalty to God; and, as this case proves, is of all men the most likely to be favoured with tokens of the Divine presence--communications of grace which will sustain his patience under a life of toil, and fit him for the rest that remaineth for the people of God."

Confessions of a Secret Disciple

This was written by Catriona Murray and appeared in the February 2017 Stornoway Free Church Newsletter.  It appears by kind permission from Catriona who shares this very personal journey.

The Lord’s presence in my life is something of which I have been aware for almost as long as I can remember. This makes it all the more shameful, therefore, that I have not always followed Him. Despite my upbringing, I actively chose to go my own way many times. Sometimes I would remember Him, and this would be followed by a period of seeking which would, inevitably, give way to disobedience. It wasn’t so much that I fled from the Lord, but more that I drifted aimlessly away, lukewarm.

In my early twenties, while still a student, I began once more to go to church regularly. I would come to the morning service in the seminary with my parents and go alone to the English service on Kenneth Street. Perhaps because of my own innate shyness (yes, really) and because I didn’t know anyone of my own age in church, I used to come and go without usually speaking to anyone.

There were many occasions when the preaching very much affected me, but there was no one to discuss it with. The Lord, in His providence, has given me a lot of good friends who are, at best, sceptics and, at worst, all-out atheists. So, trying to figure it out for myself, I bought a study Bible and filled it with post-it notes, but found it hard to read scripture for myself, without having it opened first by a preacher.

I had graduated and was working as a development officer in Ness when I spotted an advert for the first of the Saturday theology courses. Thinking that this might be something which could help me, I enrolled, despite being filled with trepidation at the thought of entering – as I saw it – a den of Daniels, with no Christian credentials of my own.  Putting these doubts aside, I completed the certificate, but felt no further forward in my walk.

By the middle of 2003, I was working as a lecturer in the Gaelic department at Lews Castle College UHI, teaching Highland history, politics and folklore (all more related than you might think). That summer, I married Donnie Murray, from North Tolsta, and we made our home in his native village. We started with good intentions, but I’m afraid that we made one another our priority. He worked away all week, only getting home at weekends. That was our excuse for not attending church. It is ironic that, because we were so happy in our marriage, we neglected the One who had given it to us. We were both well aware that the Lord had brought us together and felt, from time to time, the pricking of our consciences. Nonetheless, we did not make room for Him in our home.

My father passed away in 2011 and I was deeply conscious of his own and my mother’s faith, as well as the upholding of our whole family by the church community. I remember the pang I felt when a lady came up to my mother at the funeral and said, ‘he’s in the happy land’. They both had something that I did not have, and I began to keenly feel the absence of it once more.

In the weeks and months that followed his passing, I had an almost constant awareness of death as a real and present threat. It was as though this first breach in the family circle had left us all somehow exposed to it in a way that we never had been before.

My sense of foreboding, sadly, proved well founded when my husband passed away on March 20^th, 2015, 17 months after the initial diagnosis of bowel cancer. He had been in hospital with a chest infection when I was summoned and told that he was dying. The same day, he was transferred to Bethesda Hospice, and I slept in a chair by his bedside for the week that he was there. This may all sound terribly bleak – and so it would have been, but for the Lord’s presence. However, He transformed that scene into one of such grace and peace as it is ever likely to be my privilege to witness in this life. Among the last things Donnie said to me were Christ’s words in John 14:3, about going to prepare a place in His Father’s house. Who would not be comforted by that?

It was around this time that I realised just how much I was living by faith and how little of my own strength was needed because the Lord was giving me His. Without my requesting it, He had stretched His arms out to catch me before I even knew that I might fall. I believe that I had been converted some time before this and honestly cannot say when, but I feel that this was my moment of blessed assurance. A few weeks after Donnie’s funeral, I closed in with Christ. Having felt exposed to death after my father’s passing, I now felt open to the reality of eternity in a way I never had before.

I told no one, except one atheist friend who asked me directly. Strangely, although I could not deny my Saviour to this man, it also seemed that I could not confess Him to the Kirk Session. It was firmly fixed in my mind that I would remain a secret disciple forever, until Kenny I preached on the woman with the issue of blood: Christ required that she tell of her healing and I felt the message was for me, and me alone. Of course, I changed my mind hundreds of times during the next fortnight. Nonetheless, at the opening of the February 2016 communion, our soon-to-be new minister preached from 1 Peter 3:15; he spoke directly to anyone present who loved Christ, but who might be afraid, to obey Peter and simply sanctify Him in their hearts. I had nowhere else to hide, and professed faith that same evening.

Secret discipleship had become a burden to me; loving Him in plain sight has brought blessings by the score.  

Who was Dr Thomas Guthrie?

When Dr Thomas Guthrie was buried in the Grange Cemetery in Edinburgh on 28^th February 1873 there had not been a funeral since that of Sir James Y Simpson, the Professor of Midwifery at Edinburgh University, who had died a few years earlier.  The sun shone down on that black day as Scotland said farewell to one of its best and most noble sons.  A procession stretched for nearly a mile to Guthrie’s house in Salisbury Road and it is estimated that around 30,000 lined the streets.  The ecclesiastical and civic world were united in grief.  The loss was felt across the known world at the time such was Guthrie’s influence as a preacher, writer and social reformer.  The following Sunday Dr Candlish preached a sermon from Hebrews 9 v 27, 28 and spoke tenderly of his great friend of 35 years: ‘Friend and brother, comrade in the fight, companion in tribulation, farewell!  But not forever.  May my soul, when my time comes, be with thine!  A great man truly in Israel has fallen.  Men of talents, men of abilities, men of learning, are not uncommon.  Men powerful in thought are often raised up; but genius, real poetic genius, like Guthrie’s come but once in many generations.  We shall not look upon his like soon, if ever.  Nor was it genius alone that distinguished him.  The warm heart and the ready hand; the heart to feel, and the hand to work.  No sentimental dreamer or mooning idealist was he.  His pity was ever active’ (The Life of Rev Thomas Guthrie, 1875, John S Marr and Sons, Glasgow, p 124, 125).

Thomas Guthrie was born on July 12th 1803 in Brechin, Angus.  The second youngest of 13 children, Thomas was a lively boy who loved scrapping with his friends.  ‘Providence’, as Guthrie used to say, ‘is kind to fools and bairns.’  It was certainly kind to him when he and his brother were playing with their uncle’s gun and it discharged into the wall narrowly missing the young Thomas.  By his own admission Guthrie was no great academic.  He was sent when he was aged 4 to a Tutor called Jamie Stewart who taught his pupils while he was weaving.  The tutor was an elder in the Burgher Church (the Secession Church) and the young schoolboy was greatly impressed by his prayers.  While Guthrie never really spoke in any detail of a conversion experience he talks warmly of his mother’s spiritual influence (also a Seceder).  Little could she have known the great influence her teaching and prayers were to have on Scotland as Guthrie rose to prominence over the next few years.  As was the custom Guthrie was sent to university in Edinburgh at the tender age of 12, to study literature and philosophy, followed by a further degree in theology.  Another 2 years were spent studying anatomy and natural history, which started a life-long interest in medicine.

After several ‘wilderness years’ first travelling in Europe and then working in his father’s bank, Guthrie was eventually called to Arbirlot in Angus in 1830.  Now settled, and a man of means, Guthrie married Ann Burns the daughter of Rev James Burns of Brechin.  A Parish of 1000 people, Arbirlot had almost 100% attendance at the local Parish Church.  Despite large attendances Guthrie found his congregation to be spiritually dead: ‘He had thundered in their ears the terrors of Mount Sinai, he had sounded the Gospel trumpet with a blast loud enough to rouse the dead; he had implored, threatened and almost scolded them…but they went to sleep under his most fervent and heart stirring appeals’ (ibid, p 26).  One day he tried an anecdote and the effect was electric.  This was a turning point in his ministry. His ministry was marked from then on by rich imagery.  He cancelled his evening service and substituted for it a catechism class for young people.  There were also signs of the emerging social reformer as Guthrie set up a library and savings bank in the manse.

After 7 fruitful years of ministry in Arbirlot, Guthrie was called to Edinburgh where he assisted Rev Sym in the Old Greyfriars Parish Church.  Ever the pioneer, Guthrie suggested a church plant in the parish, and St John’s Parish Church in Victoria Street was opened in 1840.  The great Thomas Chalmers had a vision to see 200 churches planted in the poorest areas of Scotland and the Cowgate in Edinburgh was an area of almost unimaginable squalor.  Guthrie insisted to the Town Council that one third of the seats in St John’s were given to the poor while another third were allocated at a nominal rent.  Along with Chalmers, Guthrie applied the Parochial or Territorial system in his new parish:  the gospel free to all, the Elders and Deacons visiting systematically and frequently, and a school open to rich and poor alike.  After the Disruption of 1843 Guthrie’s congregation built Free St John’s (the current St Columba’s Free Church in Johnston Terrace, Edinburgh).  The architect, Thomas Hamilton, designed an ornate pulpit and an attractive sanctuary.  As Guthrie said at the opening on 18^th April 1845: ‘there is no sin in beauty, and no holiness in ugliness’ (Autobiography and Memoirs of Thomas Guthrie, 1896, Burnet and Isbister, London, p 512).

After the Disruption Guthrie was appointed to head up the Manse Fund.  Despite our rather romantic view of the Disruption, there was considerable hardships experienced by the 474 ministers and professors who signed the Deed of Demission.  This was particularly true in the Highlands where many a minister reached an early demise due to the sudden hardships and poverty which they faced.  Guthrie smashed the target of £100,000 for new manses as he travelled ‘from Cape Wrath to the Border, and from the North Sea to the Atlantic Ocean’ in the course of a year.  Due to the burden placed on Guthrie, his health was badly affected and for the next 25 years he suffered from a weak heart. 

Guthrie’s next great venture was his lasting legacy.  He published his first pamphlet in 1847 entitled ‘A Plea for Ragged Schools’, which Guthrie says ‘fell like a spark amongst combustibles.’  It was estimated that upward of 1000 children in Edinburgh were living as ‘savages in the midst of civilisation, ignorant in the midst of knowledge and heathens in the midst of Christianity.’  By 1847 the Edinburgh Original Ragged School had been set up on Castle Hill.  Many thousands of ‘street Arabs’ were saved from a life of neglect and abuse as Guthrie became the ‘Apostle’ of the Ragged School Movement.  This was closely allied to his great campaign against drunkenness and his leadership of the temperance movement.  

While Guthrie is remembered as a great preacher and social reformer, he was also a prolific writer.  After ‘A Plea for Ragged Schools’ (which actually had 3 editions (1847, 1849 and 1860) and are now available together) Guthrie went on to write: ‘The City its Sins and Sorrows’ (1857), ‘The Gospel in Ezekiel’ (1956 – now back in print), ‘Discourses from Colossions’ (1858), ‘Speaking to the Heart’ (1862), ‘The Way of Life’ (1862), Man and the Gospel (1865), and ‘On the Parables’ (1866).  From 1867 he published the Sunday magazine which had, at its height, a circulation of 100,000. 

It is very hard to summarise Guthrie’s legacy.  He was an evangelist, a preacher, a social reformer.  He hated sectarian or party spirit, and loved all who loved Christ.  As Dr Candlish said the week after Guthrie’s death: ‘To our own Church he was to the last loyal and loving. No one more so.  But he grew, as I would desire to grow, more and more from year to year, in sympathy with all who love Jesus and hold the truth as it is in him.  May the Lord, in his own good time, answer his many prayers for the repairing of all breaches in Zion, and send to the divided and distracted Christian family all over the world that peace and loving unity on which his large heart was set’ (ibid, p 126).

For further reading ‘The Autobiography and Memoir of Thomas Guthrie D.D.’ (1875) by his sons David and Charles, is perhaps the richest and most accurate mine of information.  The author of this article has also written a short booklet called ‘A Mission of Mercy – the Life and Legacy of Dr Thomas Guthrie’ which is available as an e-book on Amazon or from the author; shintyandy@gmail.com

What can we Learn from Dr Guthrie?

Over the last few months in The Record we have looked at different aspects of Dr Guthrie’s incredible ministry: his preaching, his pastoral work, his work as a social reformer, his pioneering work as a church planter and his role as the 'Apostle of Temperance'.  

His legacy is awe inspiring and very humbling.  The key question is what can we learn from Dr Guthrie and apply in our own situation today?

1.  Vision - Dr Guthrie had incredible vision.  He literally, by God's grace, changed Scotland.  His vision was not shaped by the challenges of 19th Century Scotland but rather shaped by the greatness of the God he served.  He believed that the Christian gospel could save anyone and transform any community.  By the time of his death Guthrie had, along with many other social reformers, changed childhood.  Rather than being seen as commodities, towards the end of the 19th Century, children were seen as those in need of protection and nurture.  Partly as a result of lobbying from social reformers like Guthrie legislation was passed protecting children from working long hours in often dangerous situations.  The DNA of men like Thomas Guthrie and Thomas Chalmers is that they had a big vision.  It wasn't a congregational vision or even a Free Church vision but a national vision.  Surely Guthrie teaches us that our current vision for Scotland is too small and parochial.   

2. Truth - We need to know what we believe.  Unlike so many Christians who get involved in social action, Guthrie never lost his Biblical moorings when he became a social reformer.  It is clear from his writings that he adhered to the Bible as the word of God and remained confessionally Reformed throughout his ministry.  He believed in the supremacy and centrality of preaching as the main method that God uses to save sinners.  Guthrie preached the whole counsel of God with love and tenderness but never compromised on doctrine.  Are we as a church falling out of love with the reformed theology that compelled men like Guthrie and Chalmers?  Are we embarrassed by our reformed heritage?

3. Love - As a minister of the Gospel, Guthrie embodied love.  We are told in James 1 v 27:  Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.  The fruit of true Christianity is always love for the poor and the oppressed.  Many people regard practical love for the poor as a deviation from the gospel.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  Guthrie's work with ragged children enhanced his message and gave his Christianity a reality and authenticity that made the gospel attractive to sinners.  We must never love people just because they may become Christian’s or come to our church.  We must love them because they are made in the image of God and the gospel commands us to love our neighbour.  The very essence of grace is to love with no strings attached.  How are we loving those on the margins of society like Dr Guthrie?  Are our churches places where people with addictions, relationship difficulties, prisoners, women experiencing domestic violence will find grace and love? Do we want these kind of people in our churches?  If we do, how will we support them and disciple them?

4. Hope - It was this combination of truth and love that gave Guthrie such hope for the communities he worked in and for the individuals he sought to reach.  The gospel, when preached in all its fullness and freeness, should fill every sinner with a sense of hope that Christ died to reconcile them to a holy God.  The church has gone though many periods when this message has been lost or when she has lost confidence in the power of this gospel to reach the darkest and most hopeless parts of our communities.  Guthrie (among others) gave the Free Church the belief that the gospel, accompanied by education for the poor and the practical outworking of love through the local church could redeem the darkest and most hopeless communities. Do we still have this hope?

There is a famous story about Dr Guthrie and Thomas Chalmers standing on George IV Bridge looking down on to the Cowgate.  Guthrie tells us; ‘Hopeful of success, he [Chalmers] surveyed the scene beneath us, and his eye, which often wore a dreamy stare, kindled at the prospect of seeing that wilderness become an Eden, these foul haunts of darkness, drunkenness and disease, changed into "dwellings of the righteous where is heard the voice of melody."  Contemplating the scene for a little in silence, all at once, with his broad Luther-like face glowing with enthusiasm, he waved his arm to exclaim, "A beautiful field, sir; a very fine field of operation” (Out of Harness, Thomas Guthrie).  

It takes great vision to look at some parts of Scotland and see them as a ‘beautiful field’ but yet that is what men like Dr Guthrie saw in places like the Cowgate. Thomas Guthrie brought hope to thousands through his preaching, his pastoral care and his practical Christianity.  Nobody was beyond redemption for Guthrie.  He preached a gospel that was free for the worst sinner and believed that nobody was a hopeless case.  He is an inspiration to us, that in dark and difficult days, the gospel can once again reach the darkest corners of Scotland.