EXPELLING THE MINISTERS.—A.D. 1662.
"The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the Church." In the martyrdom of Argyle and Guthrie blood of the best quality had been shed, and the most precious seed had been sown. Therefore the harvest will surely be great, the field will yield an hundredfold.
The fidelity of Argyle and of Guthrie, their devotion to Christ and the Covenant, reappeared in hundreds of noblemen and in hundreds of ministers all over Scotland. Overawe and subdue the Covenanters by sacrificing their prominent leaders? Their foes mistook their spirit and underestimated their strength, knowing little of the deathless principles of the Covenant that carried them into the service of the Lord, not counting their lives dear for Christ's sake. The Covenanters overawed! Will the sun faint and fail beneath the gale? Will the oak wither at the loss of a few boughs? Will veterans recoil at the first fire? Rather, will not the fighting spirit be roused?
At this time the Covenanters numbered about 1,000 ministers, and 100,000 communicants. They had 900 congregations. The ministers were not all staunch; the leaven of compromise had been working; half the number had become more or less infected. They had weakened in the Covenant and yielded to King Charles under his vicious administration. The political whirlpool in its outside circles was drawing them slowly yet surely toward its horrible vortex.
The sifting time had come for the Covenanters. God knows how to shake His sieve to clean the wheat. He seeks not bulk, but value. Numbers are nothing to Him; character is everything. He would rather have Gideon with 300 men up to the standard, than thirty regiments below it. He preferred one-tenth of Israel to the whole number, and sifted the nation in Nebuchadnezzar's sieve to get the good wheat separated from the inferior.
The Covenanted Church became loaded down with chaff, weevil, shrunken grains, and broken kernels—low grades of religious life—and the Lord shook the bad out of the Church by making it exceedingly painful and difficult to stay in. The way of faithfulness was filled with hardships. God made Covenant-keeping dangerous and expensive. The followers of Christ were compelled to take up the cross and carry it. If true to their Lord, they must go outside the camp, bearing His reproach. If they keep conscience pure, they must accept cruel mockings, scourging, imprisonment, banishment, and death. In this way would God separate unto himself a "peculiar people, zealous of good works." The others may be of use in degree, yet to prevent general defection and universal declension, God winnows the wheat.
But who were thrown out of the Presbyterian Church in the reign of Charles II.? Were they not the strong, unyielding, uncompromising Covenanters? Who are these separated from their brethren, and driven like chaff before the wind over mountains and moors? Are they not the zealous defenders of the Reformed faith? the true soldiers of Jesus Christ? To the casual eye the scrupulous, strong-headed, hard-fighting Covenanters were tossed out, and the rest remained at home to distribute the prey; the lax party had the organization and held the Church; the strict party suffered disintegration and were banished. But such a view is only superficial; yea, it is a visual illusion.
The Church of Christ depends not on external organization. She can live without assemblies, presbyteries, or sessions. She can enjoy the fullest measure of the love of Christ without chapels, masses, or glebes. She can have power and render service in any community, without ministers, elders, or deacons.
When the Covenanters were driven out by the persecutor, the Covenanted Church went forth into the wilderness, leaning upon the Lord Jesus Christ her Beloved. She brought with her all the essentials. She had the Bible, the Covenant, the faith, the sacraments, the Holy Spirit, the love of God, and the presence of the Lord Jesus Christ. The valleys were her places of worship; her meeting houses were fitted up with stone seats, rock pulpits, granite walls, green carpets, and azure ceilings. A row of stones was her sacramental table, and the purling stream her baptismal bowl. The mountains round about were filled with angelic hosts, and the plains were covered with the manna of heaven; the banner of Christ's love waved over the worshipers, and the glory of God filled the place. Such was the Church of the Covenanters in the times of persecution.
The king and his advisers in 1662 required of the Covenanted Church what no faithful self-respecting Covenanter could render. The demands in substance were:
That the oath of allegiance, embodying the king's supremacy over Church and State, shall be taken.
That the ministers in preaching and praying shall not refer to public sins, whether committed by the king or his parliament.
That the administration of the Church shall be, to some extent, according to the Prelatic form.
That the edicts of the king and the enactments of parliament shall not be questioned, even in the light of God's Word.
That the ministers shall comply with these demands, or be banished from their respective homes, parishes, and presbyteries.
Such was the sieve that did the work. What loyal heart could brook these terms? What minister of Christ, bent on preserving honor and conscience, could remain in charge of his church? In comparison with the Covenant, all earthly inducements were as rotten straw, in the judgment of those whose eyes took in the world of glory and rested on the Lord.
Two hundred Covenanted ministers quietly accepted the penalty. On the last Sabbath of October, 1662, they preached their farewell sermons. The churches were crowded; the grief of the people was indescribable, heart-groans broke into loud lamentations. "There was never such a sad day in Scotland as when the poor persecuted ministers took their leave of their people." Two hundred more stood their ground and fought the battle a little longer. These were forcibly ejected. Thus that desolating blast smote four hundred congregations of Covenanters.
| [!--IMG--] John Welch, Ejected from his Church John Welch, of Irongrey, was a grandson of the famous John Welch, of the First Reformation. He was one of the 400 Covenanted ministers who were driven from their pulpits by the kings edict in 1662. His congregation, overwhelmed with sorrow, followed him till they came to a brook where they kneeled down and prayed. Mounting his horse he rode away while they rent the air with their bitter wails. |
The minister with his wife and children departed in deep sorrow from the pleasant manse and the loving people. Tender ties were sundered and holy endearments sacrificed; the comforts of life were abandoned, and safety, shelter, and supplies left behind. The minister could have retained all had not his conscience been so tender. But the servant of the Lord may not be bribed. Offer the true minister of Jesus Christ money, comfort, pleasure, honor, houses, lands—all that the world can give to corrupt his conscience in his calling, and you will get a laugh of scorn that will freeze the blood.
The winter storms were descending upon the man of God and his unprotected family, as they walked across the glebe to return no more. They went out, not knowing where they were going. Night may fall upon them in a dreary place; to-morrow may come to them without a roof, or a table, or a fire. Winter may drive them into a cold cave, where possibly some good-hearted shepherdess may find them, and share with them her pail of milk and oaten cakes. Withal no complaints. They have taken joyfully the spoiling of their goods for the sake of Christ. By them the reproach of Christ was accounted better than the riches of Egypt.
Alexander Peden was one of the fighting ministers. He preached till forced to leave his pulpit. On the day of his farewell service the congregation was convulsed with grief. Peden had to restrain the wails of the people again and again. Coming down from the pulpit after service, he shut the pulpit door and struck it three times with his Bible, saying with great emphasis, "I charge thee, in my Master's name, that no man ever enter thee, but such as come in by the door as I have done." The pulpit kept the solemn charge; no one entered there till after the persecution; it remained empty twenty-six years.
Prelatic ministers were sent to fill the 400 vacant pulpits, but the people refused to hear them. The time of field-preaching had now come; the Conventicles in the mountains and moors became the order of the day.
The ministration of the Gospel of Jesus Christ—that river of God which makes glad the city of the Lord—had now reached the precipitous places where it was broken upon the rocks; yet it continued to flow, and even increase in volume and strength. The preaching by these ministers in the desolate places was powerful, impetuous, majestic, thunder-like amid the mountains, making the kingdom tremble. Great trials make great men.
We live in an easy age. Ministers may now have pulpit and salary on easy terms. They can preserve a good conscience without special self-denial. No providential issue now to separate the false from the true. But the ease of conscience in the Church's ministry, and the easy terms of communion in her membership, may change God's gold and make it dim with dross, and thus necessitate a furnace. The Lord may suddenly spring an event upon His Church, that will compel the true to be very true, and the false to be very false. Where will we stand in case the trial come?
POINTS FOR THE CLASS.
1. What effect had the death of Argyle and Guthrie on the Covenanters?
2. How does God keep His Church pure?
3. Why is the sifting process needed?
4. Can the Church survive the loss of her external organization?
5. Describe the Covenanted Church in the mountains and moors of Scotland.
6. What did the king require of the ministers?
7. How did the Covenanters receive his restrictions?
8. How many pastors were driven from their churches?
9. What may again occasion a sifting time?