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Text Sermons : ~Other Speakers M-R : Old Paths Magazine - Issue 23 : Robert M'Cheyne by David Smithers

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"IT IS NOT HOW LONG you live, but how you live that counts." Robert Murray M'Cheyne was a living example of this often neglected truth. At twenty-three years old he was ordained and inducted into the church of St. Peters at Dundee. At thirty years old he finished his course, dying in the spring of 1843. Like John the Baptist and the Savior Himself, M'Cheyne ushered in Christ's kingdom in just a few short years. It was during his brief public ministry that Scotland experienced one of its greatest revivals. From 1839-1842 much of Scotland was turned upside down through the Spirit-filled labors of W. C. Burns and Robert Murray M'Cheyne.

Perhaps more powerful than M'Cheyne's preaching was his praying. To him the prayer closet was a refuge of fellowship, holiness and intercession. M'Cheyne's diary and letters are replete with examples of his prayerful life. He wrote, "I rose early to seek God, and found Him whom my soul loveth. Who would not rise early to meet such company?" "King Jesus is a Good Master. I have had some sweet seasons of communion with the unseen God which I would not give up for thousands worth of gold and silver." Only a few months before his death M'Cheyne drew up some considerations concerning "Reformation in Secret Prayer". "I ought", said M'Cheyne, "to spend the best hours of the day in communion with God. It is my noblest and most fruitful employment." It is said that Robert Murray M'Cheyne had a special place in his church where he would pour over the names on the church role and weep with groans of intercession. Though only a young man, M'Cheyne possessed that rarest of jewels; a TRUE shepherd's heart. M'Cheyne fervently labored among the people of Dundee, as if he somehow knew he would soon die. He was a man motivated by eternity. He wrote, "As I was walking in the fields, the thought came over me with almost overwhelming power, that every one of my flock must soon be in heaven or hell. Oh how I wished that I had a tongue like thunder, that I might make all hear; or that I had a frame like iron, that I might visit every one and say, 'Escape for thy life! Ah sinner! You little know how I fear that you will lay the blame of your damnation at my door.'"

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