244. CCXLV.—To my LADY BOYD
CCXLV.—To my LADY BOYD (IMPERFECTIONS—YEARNINGS AFTER CHRIST—CHRIST’S SUPREMACY NOT INCONSISTENT WITH CIVIL AUTHORITY.) MY VERY HONOURABLE AND CHRISTIAN LADY,—Grace, mercy, and peace be to you.—I received your letter, and am well pleased that your thoughts of Christ stay with you, and that your purpose still is, by all means, to take the kingdom of heaven by violence; which is no small conquest. And it is a degree of watchfulness and thankfulness, also, to observe sleepiness and unthankfulness. We have all good cause to complain of false light, that playeth the thief and stealeth away the lantern, when it cometh to the practice of constant walking with God. Our journey is ten times a-day broken into ten pieces. Christ getteth but only broken, and halved, and tired work of us, and, alas! too often against the hair.
I have been somewhat nearer the Bridegroom; but when I draw nigh, and see my vileness, for shame I would be out of His presence again. But yet, desire of His soul-refreshing love putteth blushing me under an arrest. Oh, what am I, so loathsome a burden of sin, to stand beside such a beautiful and holy Lord, such a high and lofty One who inhabiteth eternity! But since it pleaseth Christ to condescend to such an one as I, let shamefacedness be laid aside, and lose itself in His condescending love. I would heartily be content to keep a corner of the King’s hall. Oh, if I were at the yonder end of my weak desires, then should I be where Christ, my Lord and lover, liveth and reigneth; there I should be everlastingly solaced with the sight of His face, and satisfied with the surpassing sweetness of His matchless love. But truly now I stand in the nether side of my desires; and with a drooping head, and panting heart, I look up to fair Jesus, standing afar off from us, whill corruption and death shall scour and refine the body of clay, and rot out the bones of the old man of sin. In the meantime we are blessed in sending word to the Beloved, that we love to love Him; and till then, there is joy in wooing, suiting, lying about His house, looking in at the windows, and sending a poor soul’s groans and wishes through a hole of the door to Jesus, till God send a glad meeting. And blessed be God, that after a low ebb, and so sad a word, "Lord Jesus, it is long since I saw Thee," that even then our wings are growing, and the absence of sweet Jesus breedeth a new fleece of desires and longings for Him. I know that no man hath a velvet cross, but the cross is made of that which God will have it. But verily, howbeit it be no warrantable market to buy a cross, yet I dare not say, "Oh that I had liberty to sell Christ’s cross," lest therewith, also, I should sell joy, comfort, sense of love, patience, and the kind visits of a Bridegroom. And, therefore, blessed be God we get crosses unbought and good-cheap. Sure I am, it were better to buy crosses for Christ than to sell them: howbeit neither be allowed to us. And for Christ’s joyful coming and going, which your Ladyship speaketh of, I bear with it, as love can permit. It should be enough to me, if I were wise, that Christ will have joy and sorrow halvers of the life of the saints, and that each of them should have a share of our days; as the night and the day are kindly partners and halvers of time, and take it up betwixt them. But if sorrow be the greedier halver of our days here, I know that joy’s day shall dawn, and do more than recompense all our sad hours. Let my Lord Jesus (since He willeth to do so) weave my bit and span-length of time with white and black, well and wo, with the Bridegroom’s coming and His sad departure, as warp and woof in one web; and let the rose be neighboured with the thorn; yet hope that maketh not ashamed hath written a letter and lines of hope to the mourners in Zion, that it shall not be long so. When we are over the water, Christ shall cry down crosses, and up heaven for evermore! and down hell, and down death, and down sin, and down sorrow! and up glory, up life, up joy for evermore! In this hope, I sleep quietly in Christ’s bosom whill He come who is not slack; and would sleep so, were it not that the noise of the devil, and of sin’s feet, and the cries of an unbelieving heart, awaken me. But, for the present, I have nothing whereof I can accuse Christ’s cross. Oh, if I could please myself in Christ only!
I hope, Madam, that your sons will improve their power for Jesus. For there is no danger, neither is there any question or justling betwixt Christ and authority (though our enemies falsely state the question), as if Christ and authority could not abide under one roof. The question only is, betwixt Christ and men in authority. Authority is for and from Christ, and sib to Him; how then can He make a plea with it? Nay, the truth is, worms and gods of clay are risen up against Christ. If the fruit of your Ladyship’s womb be helpers of Christ, ye have good ground to rejoice in God.
All that your Ladyship can expect for your good-will to me and my brother (a wronged stranger for Christ), is the prayers of a prisoner of Jesus, to whom I recommend your Ladyship, and your house and children; and in whom I am, Madam, Your Ladyship’s in Christ,
S. R.
ABERDEEN. Sept. 8, 1637.