Renwick’s Visit to Peden’s death bed–Part II

Continued from:
He told how:

He lifted up the standard where Cargill laid it down,
Where Cameron left it, as he rose to wear the martyrs crown.
To the hungering souls in Scotland he had broke the bread of life,
And shunned all innovations and all bitter roots of strife;
But chief of all, his aim had been to guard with faithful hand
The Gospel’s native purity, and the Covenants of the land.
Because he could not dance in step with the piping of the times,
And dreaded all compliances as heaven-defying crimes,
Those that his brethren should have been, did all affection quench,
Nay, cut him from theire fellowshi8p even as a rotten branch.

While thus he told how best-loved friends were severed from his side,
Tears of deep agony gushed forth, and mournfully he cried:
‘Woe’s me that I in Meshech am a sourjourner so long!
That I in taberacles dwell to Kedar that belong!
My sould with him that hateth peace hath long a dweller been;
I am for peace, but when I speak, for battle they are keen!’
And he spoke with him most cheeringly, with reverent, tender love,
And he prayed as they alone can pray whose heart’s home is above!
He prayed that in His own good time, the Lord would grant release,
And let his servant, worn with age and toil, depart in peace;
That all his works and sufferings, with acceptance might be crowned,
And the fruit, in ages yet to come, might gloriously abound.

‘Tis time we part, not far from hence the slayer hath a den,
And I know the night-shades gather thick, around old Blaxeden.’
‘Rough is the path before thee, planted thick with thorns and briars,
And a spirit meek and fearless, and a wary step requires,
And they feet are soft and tender yet; but keep a constant eye,
Unto Thy Master’s will, and thou shalt quit the stage with joy;
While they who walk with stately step, and bend their necks in pride,
Shall soil their garments, and be fain their squalid looks to hide.

‘Who trust in self, are forth at sea in a frail and broken ship;
Who build their church upon the breath of a Princes or courtiers lip,
Are building on the shifting sand, and on the fleeing cloud;
And stand they may, so long as they are tools to serve the proud.
Trust thou for ever in the Lord! for everlasting strength
Is in His arm, and He shall rise to plead they cause at length;’
And he drew him nearer, and he plced his hand upon his head,
And, with a pause of inward prayer, thse solemn words he said:-
‘God be they sun and shield! Farewell! And when we meet again,
It will not be as now, my son, in peril and in pain!’
And slowly Renwick left the bed– his finger raised above!-
The old man’s eye still following him, with look and tears of love.
–James Dodd’s

Renwick’s Visit to Peden’s death bed–Part II

Continued from:
He told how:

He lifted up the standard where Cargill laid it down,
Where Cameron left it, as he rose to wear the martyrs crown.
To the hungering souls in Scotland he had broke the bread of life,
And shunned all innovations and all bitter roots of strife;
But chief of all, his aim had been to guard with faithful hand
The Gospel’s native purity, and the Covenants of the land.
Because he could not dance in step with the piping of the times,
And dreaded all compliances as heaven-defying crimes,
Those that his brethren should have been, did all affection quench,
Nay, cut him from theire fellowshi8p even as a rotten branch.

While thus he told how best-loved friends were severed from his side,
Tears of deep agony gushed forth, and mournfully he cried:
‘Woe’s me that I in Meshech am a sourjourner so long!
That I in taberacles dwell to Kedar that belong!
My sould with him that hateth peace hath long a dweller been;
I am for peace, but when I speak, for battle they are keen!’
And he spoke with him most cheeringly, with reverent, tender love,
And he prayed as they alone can pray whose heart’s home is above!
He prayed that in His own good time, the Lord would grant release,
And let his servant, worn with age and toil, depart in peace;
That all his works and sufferings, with acceptance might be crowned,
And the fruit, in ages yet to come, might gloriously abound.

‘Tis time we part, not far from hence the slayer hath a den,
And I know the night-shades gather thick, around old Blaxeden.’
‘Rough is the path before thee, planted thick with thorns and briars,
And a spirit meek and fearless, and a wary step requires,
And they feet are soft and tender yet; but keep a constant eye,
Unto Thy Master’s will, and thou shalt quit the stage with joy;
While they who walk with stately step, and bend their necks in pride,
Shall soil their garments, and be fain their squalid looks to hide.

‘Who trust in self, are forth at sea in a frail and broken ship;
Who build their church upon the breath of a Princes or courtiers lip,
Are building on the shifting sand, and on the fleeing cloud;
And stand they may, so long as they are tools to serve the proud.
Trust thou for ever in the Lord! for everlasting strength
Is in His arm, and He shall rise to plead they cause at length;’
And he drew him nearer, and he plced his hand upon his head,
And, with a pause of inward prayer, thse solemn words he said:-
‘God be they sun and shield! Farewell! And when we meet again,
It will not be as now, my son, in peril and in pain!’
And slowly Renwick left the bed– his finger raised above!-
The old man’s eye still following him, with look and tears of love.
–James Dodd’s

The Gospel Banner

Hard things thou hast upon us laid,
And made us drink most bitter wine;
But still thy banner we have displayed,
And borne aloft thy truth divine.

Our courage fails not, though the night
No earthly lamp avails to break,
For thou wilt soon arise in might,
And of our captors captives make 

[From Spurgeon's treasury of David, on Psalm 60:4]

The Life of Alexander Peden

We called him with our littleness austere,
We knew no petty subtleties to please
The heedless mutlitude who sit at ease;
Yet in the garnered wisdom of his years,
With adamtine will, despite our fears
And his own scathe, he taughht us how to seize
For God the fleeting opportunities
And, leading men, approved himself the seer.

The path lies open; all his work is o’er;
And resting now, who never knew rest before,
Throughout the land for which he toiled and died,
Albeit his faith awhile was sorely tried,
A thousand altars of Jehovah raise
His lasting cenotaph of prayer and praise.

Poem about Alexander Peden, author unknown.

The Self-indulgent Church

I can’t talk much, I’m too tortured in every way, barely hanging on to my sanity it feels, and nowhere to turn for the least relief to any of it. I feel just about ready to crack and dont’ remember any day as bad as this before.

I remembered this poem, and this describes exactly, the majority of Christians I have known. It is not all-inclusive and I am only talking about those I have known well. People like me, will continue to suffer what has no words can describe, till the church does differently to this. But for this, I would not be the tortured human being I am right now. When sick unto death, totally alone, do folks really think you need torturing on top of that?

I was hungry, and you formed a humanities group to discuss my hunger,

I was imprisoned and you crept off quietly to your chapel and prayed for my release,

I was naked, and in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance,

I was sick, and you knelt and thanked God for your health.

I was homeless and you preached to me of the shelter of the love of God,

I was lonely, and you left me alone to pray for me,

You seemed so Holy, so close to God,

But, I am still very hungry, and lonely and cold..

The Self-indulgent Church

I can’t talk much, I’m too tortured in every way, barely hanging on to my sanity it feels, and nowhere to turn for the least relief to any of it. I feel just about ready to crack and dont’ remember any day as bad as this before.

I remembered this poem, and this describes exactly, the majority of Christians I have known. It is not all-inclusive and I am only talking about those I have known well. People like me, will continue to suffer what has no words can describe, till the church does differently to this. But for this, I would not be the tortured human being I am right now. When sick unto death, totally alone, do folks really think you need torturing on top of that?

I was hungry, and you formed a humanities group to discuss my hunger,

I was imprisoned and you crept off quietly to your chapel and prayed for my release,

I was naked, and in your mind you debated the morality of my appearance,

I was sick, and you knelt and thanked God for your health.

I was homeless and you preached to me of the shelter of the love of God,

I was lonely, and you left me alone to pray for me,

You seemed so Holy, so close to God,

But, I am still very hungry, and lonely and cold..

The Conventicles of 17th Century Scotland

When almost 400 Church of Scotland ministers were ousted in an act of 1662, where they were forced to leave not only their livlihoods of preaching, but also there manses and homes, and their wives, children and dependants along with them, because they would not bow down to the King’s demands, which were against Christ’s cause, the field-meetings or conventicles were introduced. After a short time, it became punishable by death to be preaching at these conventicles, and heavily fined and/or imprisoned for merely attending them. But the Covenanters of those days courage, knew no bounds. They were happy to suffer for Christ, and put Christ’s cause and His kingdome above the immediate safety of their wives, children and loved ones. We are not talking about being a bit busy, so we may not have time to have a game of soccer with little Jimmy. They had no idea what would become of not only themseves but wives, children, any dependants, often elderly relatives. But they sacrificed it all, for the cause of Christ. They had no assurity that neither they nor their dependants would come out of it alive but being obedient to God was their priority; serving God, their whole of life. And when it became punishable by death to preach at these conventicles, the ministers who did so, continued to do so. Rather than it stamping it out, the numbers of meetings grew.

Today we seem to make an idol of our families; that missing a game or some recreational activity is the end of the world and severe suffering. When it is not. That is us putting the world before the cause of God if we think so.

But how often do we find ourselves in this day and age, come Saturday, we may be wondering, “can I make going to church tomorrow..”and come up with all kinds of plausible reasons to ourselves why we maybe justified not to do so. Or we already have half a dozen different acitivies we plan to fit into the Lord’s Day beside the worship of God, yet to worship God to these folks meant so much. Yet these men, women and children, went out in the mist and often rain filled fileds, to worship their God under pains of death or heavy punishments to do so. So what real excuse do we have to despise the means the ordinances, the attending public worship, which is the one thing we shall do continuously in heaven, on some vain pretext, that is little more than an excuse if we are honest with our selves.

The following is a poem by James Hyslop about the field-meetings or conventicles in 17th Century Scotland

At the risk of their lives, with their flocks they would meet,
In storm and in tempest, in rain and in sleet;
Where the mist on the moor-glens lay darkness, ’twas there,
In the thick and concealed, they assembled for prayer.

For in the cities the wells of salvation were sealed,
More brightly to burst in the moor and the field;
And the Spirit, which fled from the dwellings of men,
Like a manna-cloud rained round the camp of the glenn.
—James Hyslop

A good conscience, more worthy than worldly riches

Nor shall the eternal roll of praise reject
Those unconforming, whom one rigorous day
Drives from their cures, a voluntary prey
To poverty, and grief, and disrespect,
And some to want, as if by tempests wreck’d
On a wild coast; now destitute! did they
Feel not that conscience never can betray,

That peace of mind is Virtue’s sure effect.
There altars they forego, and homes they quit,
Fields which they love, and paths they daily trod,
And cast their future upon Providence;
As men the dictate of whose inward sense
Outweighs the world; whose self-decieving wit
Lures not from what they deem the cause of God
—William Wordsworth

Written about the act of November 1st, 1662 when over 300 Presbyterian ministers in Scotland, over a third of all ministers of Scotland, were turned out of their parishes; At which time, field meetings and coventicles were introduced.

The depth of winter was at hand, most of the ministers had wives and families or relatives dependant on them. To disobey the king meant to give up their earthly all, and to commit themselves and those dearest to them to a future dark with all possibilities of suffering. But nearly 400 ministers of the Church of Scotland were ready to do this for the sake of Christ and of conscience.
—Bannerman

From a Prison of the Covenant

A prison is a house of care,
A place where none can thrive,
A touchstone true to try a friend,
A grave for men alive.
Sometimes a place of right,
Sometimes a place of wrong,
Sometimes a place for jades and thieves,
and honest men among.
–Abbotsford Relics

From a Prison of the Covenant

A prison is a house of care,
A place where none can thrive,
A touchstone true to try a friend,
A grave for men alive.
Sometimes a place of right,
Sometimes a place of wrong,
Sometimes a place for jades and thieves,
and honest men among.
–Abbotsford Relics