(SPIRITUAL LONGINGS UNDER CHRIST'S CROSS—HOW TO BEAR IT—CHRIST PRECIOUS, AND TO BE HAD WITHOUT MONEY—THE CHURCH.)
R EVEREND AND WELL-BELOVED IN OUR LORD JESUS,—I must still provoke you to write by my lines. Whereat ye need not wonder, for the cross is full of talk, and speak it must, either good or bad: neither can grief be silent.
I have no dittay nor indictment to bring against Christ's cross, seeing He hath made a friendly agreement betwixt me and it, and we are in terms of love together. If my former miscarriages, and my now silent Sabbaths, seem to me to speak wrath from the Lord, I dare say it is but Satan borrowing the use and loan of my cowardly and feeble apprehensions, which start at straws. I know that faith is not so faint and foolish as to tremble at every false alarm. Yet I gather this out of it: Blessed are they who are graced of God to guide a cross well, and, that there is some art required therein. I pray God that I may not be so ill friendstead, as that Christ my Lord should leave me to be my own tutor, and my own physician. Shall I not think that my Lord Jesus, who deserveth His own place very well, will take His own place upon Him as it becometh Him, and that He will fill His own chair? For in this is His office, to comfort us, and those that are casten down, in all their tribulations (2 Cor. i. 4). Alas! I know that I am a fool to seek a hole or defect in Christ's way with my soul. If I have not a stock to present to Christ at His appearance, yet I pray God that I may be able, with joy and faith and constancy, to shew the Captain of my salvation, in that day, a bloody head[384] which I received in His service. Howbeit my faith hang by a small tack and thread, I hope that the tack shall not break; and, howbeit my Lord got no service of me but broken wishes, yet I trust that those will be accepted upon Christ's account. I have nothing to comfort me, but that I say, "Oh! will the Lord disappoint an hungry on-waiter?" The smell of Christ's wine and apples (which surpass the uptaking of dull sense) bloweth upon my soul, and I get no more for the meantime. I am sure, that to let a famishing body see meat and give him none of it, is a double pain. Our Lord's love is not so cruel as to let a poor man see Christ and heaven, and never give him more, for want of money to buy: nay, I rather think Christ to be such fair market wares, as buyers may have without money and without price. And thus I know that it shall not stand upon my want of money; for Christ upon His own charges must buy my wedding-garment, and redeem the inheritance which I have forfeited, and give His word for one the like of me, who am not law-biding of myself. Poor folks must either borrow or beg from the rich; and the only thing that commendeth sinners to Christ is extreme necessity and want. Christ's love is ready to make and provide a ransom, and money for a poor body who hath lost his purse. "Ho, ye that have no money, come and buy" (Isa. lv. 1), that is the poor man's market.
Now, brother, I see that old crosses would have done nothing to me; and, therefore, Christ hath taken a new, fresh rod to me, that seemeth to talk with my soul[385] and make me tremble. I have often more ado now with faith, when I lose my compass and am blown on a rock, than those who are my beholders, standing upon the shore, are aware of. A counsel to a sick man is sooner given than taken. Lord, send the wearied man a borrowed bed from Christ! I think often that it is after supper with me, and I am heavy. Oh, but I would sleep soundly with Christ's left hand under my head, and His right hand embracing me. The devil could not spill that bed. When I consider how tenderly Christ hath cared for me in this prison, I think that He hath handled me as the bairn that is pitied and bemoaned. I desire no more till I be in heaven, but such a feast and fill of Christ's love as I would have; this love would be fair and adorning passments which would beautify and set forth my black, unpleasant cross. I cannot tell, my dear brother, what a great load I would bear, if I had a hearty fill of the love of that lovely One, Christ Jesus. Oh, if ye would seek and pray for that to me! I would give Christ all His love-styles and titles of honour, if He would give me but this; nay, I would sell myself, if I could, for that love.
I have been waiting to see what friends of place and power would do for us. But when the Lord looseneth the pins of His own tabernacle, He will have Himself to be acknowledged as the only builder-up thereof; and, therefore, I would take back again my hope that I lent and laid in pawn in men's hands, and give it wholly to Christ. It is no time for me now to set up idols of my own. It were a pity to give an ounce-weight of hope to any besides Christ. I think Him well worthy of all my hope, though it were as weighty as both heaven and earth. Happy were I if I had anything that Christ would seek or accept of; but now, alas! I see not what service I can do to Him, except it be to talk a little, and babble upon a piece of paper, concerning the love of Christ. I am often as if my faith were wadset, so that I cannot command it; and then, when He hideth Himself, I run to the other extreme, in making each wing and toe of my case as big as a mountain of iron; and then misbelief can spin out an hell of heavy and desponding thoughts. Then Christ seeketh law-borrows of my unbelieving apprehensions, and chargeth me to believe His daylight at midnight. But I make pleas with Christ, though it be ill my common[386] so to do. It were my happiness, when I am in this house-of-wine and when I find a feast-day, if I could "hearken, and hear for the time to come" (Isa. xlii. 23). But I see that we must be off our feet in wading a deep water; and then Christ's love findeth timeous employment, at such a dead-lift as that; and, besides, after broken brows, bairns learn to walk more circumspectly. If I come to heaven any way, howbeit like a tired traveller upon my Guide's shoulder, it is good enough for those who have no legs of their own for such a journey. I never thought there had been need of so much wrestling to win to the top of that steep mountain, as now I find.
Wo is me for this broken and backsliding church! It is like an old bowing wall, leaning to the one side, and there are none of all her sons who will set a prop under her. I know that I need not bemoan Christ; for He careth for His own honour more than I can do; but who can blame me to be wo (if I had grace so to be) to see my Well-beloved's fair face spitted upon, and His own crown plucked off His head, and the ark of God taken and carried in the Philistines' cart, and the kine put to carry it, which will let it fall to the ground? The Lord put to His own helping hand! I would desire you to prepare yourself for a fight with beasts (1 Cor. xv. 32): ye will not get leave to steal quietly to heaven, in Christ's company, without a conflict and a cross.
Remember my bonds; and praise my Second, and Fellow-prisoner, Christ. Grace be with you.
Yours, in Christ Jesus his Lord,