02.02. Chapter 2. Pioneer Missionaries.

Chapter 2.

Pioneer Missionaries. When the Romans came to Britain faithful servants of Jesus Christ were to be found in many of the legions, but with the Roman power came also the state religion of ancient Rome, which was paganism. A stately temple to Diana was erected on the spot where St. Paul’s Cathedral now stands, another to Apollo on the site now occupied by Westminster Abbey. We hear little of Christianity during this period, save that the followers of Jesus were often confronted with the choice — "Christ or Diana?" and that many loved not their lives unto death, we learn from Bede, who tells us that "about this time suffered Aron and Julius, citizens of Chester, and many more of both sexes in several places, who after enduring sundry torments, and having their limbs torn after an unheard-of manner, sent their souls to the joys of the heavenly city."

After Constantine’s profession of Christianity legalised persecution ceased for a time. Under Julian the Apostate, pagan Rome put forth its last efforts to attain that supremacy it had previously enjoyed.

Julian set himself to uproot Christianity and reform paganism. He attempted the impossible task of destroying Christian principles, and yet maintaining Christian practice. So great was his hatred of the Christian religion that he tried to make the words which the Lord Jesus uttered concerning Jerusalem false, "And Jerusalem shall be trodden down of the Gentiles until the times of the Gentiles be fulfilled." Julian determined to rebuild it. He had three objects to live for: the restoration of idolatry the rebuilding of Jerusalem and the conquest of Persia. After a short reign of one year and eight months he lay dying on the sands of Persia with all his schemes unaccomplished. As his life ebbed away through the wound inflicted by a Persian lance, he filled his hand with the blood and casting it into the air, exclaimed, "O GALILEAN, THOU HAST CONQUERED." The temple is still unbuilt; the cause of God still survives. Julian died a solemn illustration of Isaiah 45:9, "Woe unto him that striveth with his Maker." The Roman power was now on the decline. In 420 the last of the legions were withdrawn from Britain to defend the more central parts of the Empire frequently assailed by the barbarous hordes ever on its borders. The inhabitants under the Roman rule had become weak and servile, and thus easily fell a prey to the next invaders, the "Franks" and "Saxons," who, with their pirate galleys, made frequent descents on the sea coasts, and even carried their inroads far inland. In 446 an appeal, called "The Groans of the Britons," was sent to the "Great Patrician" Aetius, desiring "ayde and comforte from the daungier of strange enemies," but Aetius needed all his legionaries to conquer the fierce Attila and his savage Huns, and could give them no assistance. Vortigern, one of the British kings, made an alliance with the Angles and Saxons to assist him against the inroads of the Picts and Scots; but instead of allies the Anglo-Saxons soon became masters, and their successors tempted other bodies of German invaders to follow. These newcomers were more barbarous than Imperial Rome. They drove out the inhabitants wherever they came, compelling them either to become their slaves, or else retire to more remote parts of the country. Pagans themselves, they treated everything pertaining to Christ or Christianity with special ferocity. Preachers and people were slain with indiscriminate cruelty, and churches were razed to the ground.

These savage wars gave little opportunity for the early British Church to extend its influence over these fierce marauders, even if the conquerors had not treated with contempt everything belonging to the conquered. Thus we find that during the fifth century the Christians in the south were gradually driven back into the mountains of Wales and the wild moors of Northumberland, and, although isolated Christian families could be found here and there, paganism again overspread the land, and idol temples arose to the heathen gods in many places, where previously the true God had been known and worshipped. Our names for the days of the week still preserve a remembrance of these idol gods. Sunday is from the sun, Monday from the moon, Tuesday from their hero-god Tuisco, Wednesday from Wodin or Odin, the god of war, Thursday from their chief god Thor, the thunderer, and so on. For many years after the withdrawal of the Romans little is known of the religious history of Britain.

Civil wars among the various petty chiefs were the principle events. Christianity existed, but ofttimes it was swept back by the tide of paganism, as in some predatory excursion the "priests" of one tribe were murdered by the soldiers of another, who, ascribing their victory to their idol gods, reared again their fallen altars and deserted shrines. Afterwards, when peace had been restored, some Christian missionary would be found brave and zealous enough to rear again the banner of the cross, and go forth with his life in his hand preaching the gospel. Thus the contest went on, but the light was slowly penetrating the darkness; the truth was the stronger, and would triumph in the end.

One of the missionaries who went forth as a light-bearer in these dark days was called Kentigern. He was born about 514 in Culross, and the scene of his first labours was at Cathures (now Glasgow). But on the accession of a new king to the throne of Cumbria, Kentigern had to flee for his life, and take refuge in Wales. When the Christian king Ryderech ascended the throne, Kentigern was invited to return, and the old writer goes on to tell us that he abode in "a town called Glesgu, now called Glasgu, where he united himself to a family of servants of God who lived after the fashion of the primitive Church in holy discipline and Divine service."

While Kentigern was labouring in the south, another missionary, named Columba, in Ireland, was preparing to visit the western shores of Scotland. Several fellow-Christians, imbued with his zeal, volunteered to accompany him, and setting sail in their currach of osiers and skins, they reached the island of Iona in 565. Here they erected their humble settlement of wattles, and from thence set forth to evangelise the rude Picts in their vicinity. Columba’s efforts were directed towards the northern Picts, beyond the Grampians, where, as far as we know, the Gospel had not as yet penetrated. The brethren led lives of the greatest simplicity, and Columba, like Jacob of old, is said to have slept on the bare ground, with a stone for his pillow. A man of remarkable activity, he sought to use every moment for the glory of God. He read, wrote, and taught; he preached, prayed and visited from house to house, and from tribe to tribe, and soon fruits of his service began to appear. The king of the Picts was converted and many of his people. A school was established in Iona, where the Word of God was studied, and through the living Word many were born from above. The young men of Caledonia were taught that "the Holy Scriptures are the only rule of faith." "Throw aside all merit of works," said he, "and look for salvation to the grace of God alone. Beware of a religion which consists of outward observances: it is better to keep your heart pure before God than to abstain from meats. One alone is your head, Jesus Christ."

Soon the true instinct of a living Church arose. The young men who had learned the gospel in the school of Iona desired to spread the knowledge of Jesus Christ in other lands. Kneeling in the chapel of Iona, they were set apart by the laying on of the hands of the brethren, and they went forth with their blessings and their prayers: Often in cruel persecutions, often in jeopardy of their lives, these devoted missionaries travelled through the Low Countries, Gaul, Switzerland and Germany, preaching the Word of God to the barbarous and unsettled tribes who at that time inhabited those countries. Nor were they afraid of the wild Atlantic billows, but crossed over in their frail boats to the Orkney and Shetland Islands, and even found their way to Iceland, ever seeking to preach the Gospel in regions beyond. Often "in perils by the heathen, in perils by the wilderness, in weariness, and painfulness," only the love of Christ constraining them could have carried them on, only the power of Christ could have sustained them. They sought not for worldly place and power, for advancement and riches, but were content with little of this world’s goods, if only they might induce their hearers to "turn to God from idols to serve the living and true God, and to wait for His Son from Heaven."

Hardships and adventures were everyday occurrences in the lives of these men. Often their way lay over bleak and rugged mountains, or through dark and pathless forests abounding with wild beasts, and sometimes with men still more fierce and wild. Often they were in danger of suffering and death from the hands of the very men to whom they came with the word of life. At times they were exposed to the fury of the white-robed Druid priest whose pagan rites and worship they condemned or again, driven with scorn from the doors of the proud chieftain, they turned aside to the humble hut of the serf, and there told out in simple language to their rustic audience the old, old story of the love of Jesus.

We cannot but admire the zeal and earnestness of these early pioneers of mission enterprise. Their teaching was derived direct from the Scriptures, and they went forth with the Gospel, because they believed the Gospel to be "the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth." But we have come to a period when another system was to usurp their place, and enter into their labours — when popery like a dark cloud was about to overshadow the land with its baneful influence, and eclipse for a time the light of truth. In the fifth century Pope Leo I. had already laid what has been called the foundation stone of the papal supremacy, by introducing private confession to the priests, who were empowered to grant absolution, or impose penances at will, thus blasphemously taking the place of the one Mediator, Christ Jesus, who alone has power on earth to forgive sins.

Men were taught to hand over their consciences to the keeping of the priests. The priests, in their eagerness to multiply converts, lost the true idea of conversion, and, instead of looking for the fruits of righteousness which the Holy Spirit alone can produce, they were willing to accept a mere nominal assent to doctrines and ceremonies of man’s making. Thus men had a name to live but were dead, and the whole became merely a worldly organisation, destitute alike of both life and practice.

Succeeding occupants of the papal chair continued this worldly policy, because by it their revenues were increased, and, though living in luxury and sensuality, they were ever on the outlook for some new field over which they might extend their dominions, and arrogate to themselves both the spiritual and temporal sovereignty whenever they came. In 590 Gregory I. was elected to the pontifical chair, and at once decided on his long intended mission to Britain. Some time previously he had seen some youths exposed for sale in the slave market at Rome, and being pleased with their handsome appearance, he made inquiries and learned that they were Anglo-Saxon prisoners of war whose country was still pagan. Henceforth Gregory’s desire was to bring Britain under the power of the Church of Rome. In 596 a monk named Augustine, attended with forty others, set forth on this mission and landed on the Isle of Thanet in Kent.

Augustine is said to have possessed even to a greater degree than Gregory himself "a mixture of ambition and devotedness, superstition and piety, cunning and zeal. He thought that faith and holiness were less essential to the Church than authority and power, and that its prerogative was not so much to save souls as to collect all the human race under the authority of Rome." Even Gregory himself took notice of his spiritual pride and exhorted him to humility.

England at this time was divided into the Saxon Heptarchy, or Seven Kingdoms, and, having landed in the Kingdom of Kent, the monks desired an interview with King Ethelbert, whose wife, Bertha, seems to have been a real Christian. The King decided to receive them in the open air, and took his stand under a large oak tree, while the monks, to make as much show as possible, approached, bearing a huge crucifix at the head of the procession. The King was sufficiently impressed to allow them the use of an ancient British chapel near Canterbury, and not long afterwards was converted — to the Church of Rome at least — by the eloquent appeals of Augustine. This event greatly helped on the work among his people, and ten thousand pagans were baptised in the Swale in one day. But alas what shall we say of such conversions? There was little "repentance towards God and faith towards our Lord Jesus Christ." Little of that real work of the Spirit in which, on the day of Pentecost, three thousand were pricked in their hearts, and said, "What shall we do?" The aim of Rome has ever been to make nominal converts to the aggrandisement of the Papal See, and such continues to the present day to be the false and unscriptural practice of Romish missionaries in heathen lands. See to it, my reader, that you are not only a nominal Christian but a real Christian; forgiven, saved, justified, and on your way to heaven — made fit by the blood of Christ, and made sure by the Word of God.

Augustine "converted" the heathen temples by washing the walls with "holy water," erecting "altars," and substituting "holy relics" for the images of the heathen gods. His next object was to win over the original British Churches, and, to this end, he appointed a conference and demanded them to submit to the government of Rome. The British Christians were firm in their refusal. "We desire to love all men," meekly replied Dionoth, a faithful teacher from Bangor, "and what we do for you we will do for him whom you call the Pope, but he is not entitled to call himself father of fathers; we know no master but Christ."

Augustine summoned another conference in 601, and again demanded the British Churches to submit to Rome, but Dionoth again resisted with firmness and success, and was supported by Dagam, one of the Scotch representatives from Iona, who refused even to eat bread with the Romans. But the pretensions of Rome were gaining ground. Much of the truth which had been so faithfully taught from Iona was already lost sight of, and the minds of the British Christians finally became unsettled as to whether they were right in their opposition. They visited a pious Christian teacher who led a solitary life, and asked him if they should continue to resist Augustine or follow him.

"If he is a man of God, follow him."

"And how shall we know that?" they replied.

"If he is meek and humble of heart, he bears Christ’s yoke; but, if he is violent and proud, he is not of God."

"What sign shall we have of his humility?"

"If he rises from his seat to receive you when you enter the room."

They departed for the Council, and entered the hall, but the Romish Archbishop, desirous of showing his superiority, proudly kept his seat. Again the British protested against the papal supremacy — "We will have no master but Christ." Augustine was incensed. "If you will not receive brethren who bring you peace, you shall receive enemies who bring you war," he said. He comes out here in his true character. Argument had failed: now for the sword. The first thing that British Christians receive, either from Pagan Rome or Papal Rome is alike persecution.

Augustine died in 604, but the spirit of persecution survived, and the influence of the priests over even pagan kings was always used against the British. Twelve hundred were murdered near Bangor in one day, in a place where they were gathered together for prayer, by Edelfrid, one of the Anglo-Saxon kings and soon the light of primitive Christianity was almost extinguished in Britain. Only in Iona the Christians still continued to hold fast the truth, and missionaries went forth through the various Saxon kingdoms in England preaching the simple Gospel of Jesus Christ. In Northumberland at this time reigned King Oswy, an ambitious and unprincipled man, who determined to add to his territories at the expense of his neighbours. He first treacherously murdered his relative, Oswin, King of Deira, and also usurped the throne of Mercia after King Peada had been slain in a conspiracy got up by his wife, Oswy’s daughter, and thus succeeded by craft and cruelty in uniting nearly all England into one kingdom. He now called a conference, and, professing to be won over by the priests, exclaimed, "Peter is the doorkeeper, I will obey him." Such was the character of the man who became Rome’s convert and handed over the liberties of England to the Pope. The priests knew what to make of their victory, and soon all England was under the domination of the Papal See. The Pope wrote to Oswy and sent him, not copies of the Holy Scriptures, alas! but "relics of the saints," and for nearly seven hundred years England, which had refused the light, was given over to darkness, and made to groan under the spiritual despotism of a false Church which made merchandise of the bodies and souls of men. In the East, also, the minds of men were groping in darkness. Mohammed, born in 570, was at this time propagating his dark delusion by fire and sword.

Neither the legions of Rome nor the trained warriors of Persia could withstand the fierce onslaughts of the Moslem hordes, who rushed eagerly to the fight, fondly believing that those who fell in battle went straight to Paradise. Palestine, Syria, Egypt, Persia, and Northern Africa were rapidly overrun. By the Straits of Gibraltar they entered Spain, which was subdued after desperate fighting, in which its king was slain.

Crossing the Pyrenean mountains they invaded France, but were met near Tours in 752 by Charles Martel at the head of the armies of Europe, and defeated after a battle which lasted six days.

It is impossible to enumerate the havoc and slaughter perpetrated by these fanatical warriors. The countries along the shores of Northern Africa contained an immense number of Christian congregations, with many bishops and pastors. These were almost entirely swept away. In the twelve years after the death of Mohammed it is estimated that his successors conquered 36,000 towns and villages; destroyed 4,000 Christian Churches, putting to death all who opposed them or refused to become Mohammedans, and so successfully has this "mission" been carried on since, that there are now about two hundred and six millions of our fellow-men who are followers of the doctrine of that false prophet. But Europe was saved from the ravages of the Moslems only to become the prey of popery, which rapidly developed its anti-Christian principles and practices during the dark ages. How true it is that "men love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil."

Let us see to it that we value the privileges we enjoy. Living in a professing Christian land and having an open Bible telling us of the love of God to lost sinners in sending His only-begotten Son into the world that we might live through Him; surely if we neglect so great salvation we will indeed be without excuse.