“Hoots! Sandy, he wad na presume to instruct an Elder.” John Carr was plainly shocked at the possibility.
“Instruct? What are you saying? The lad had no thought of me whateffer. I found him away back beyond the church, wailing like a bairn that had lost its mother, because, mark you! he was unfit to join with the people of God in remembering the Lord. John Carr, I will confess to you as I did to the Lord Himself that I was stricken to the heart for my pride and self-sufficiency as I heard him crying after his God. Truly, the Lord was gracious to me, a hard-hearted sinner, in that moment. For on my knees I made confession of my sin before God—till the lad himself gave me the word.”
“And what word was that, Sandy?” ventured John Carr, for Sandy had fallen into silence.
“It wass the Lord’s word to my soul, John, and I will not be repeating it. But it brought the light whateffer.”
“The laddie came forward I observed.”
“Oh, yess, yess, he came forward. It was given to me to remove some slight misconceptions from the lad’s mind as to the Divine economy in the matter of mercy and judgment, and he came forward. It was irregular, I grant you, but who was I, John Carr, to forbid him the ‘Table’ of the Lord?” Halting in his walk, Sandy flung the challenge at his friend’s head and waited for reply.
“Tut! tut! Sandy, I’m no saying ye did onything but right tae bring in the lad,” protested Carr.
“Indeed and indeed, he was the one who brought me in. ‘A little child shall lead them.’ John, John, it iss myself that iss in sore need of leading. And that have I learned this day.”
And no further enlightenment on the matter would Sandy offer that day.
But it would have helped John Carr to a better understanding of what had really transpired at the back of the church that day had he overheard Paul’s words to his father as they rode home from the church.