Rutherford Revised (272)

272. To John Gordon    From Aberdeen 

(See letters 82,124,147,180)

Worthy and dear brother,- Grace, mercy and peace be to you.- I have been too long in writing to you, but many letters take much of my time.   
   I bless His great name whom I serve in the spirit, that if it came to voting, among angels and men, how excellent and how sweet Christ is, even in His reproaches and in His cross,I could only vote for all that is in Him. both cross and crown, kisses and sullen, hugs and frowns, and blows, is sweet and glorious. God send me no more happiness in heaven, or out of heaven, than Christ! For I  find this world, when I have looked on it on both sides, inside and outside, and when I have seen even the laughing and lovely side of it, to be but a fool's idol, a clay prison. Lord, let  not be the nest my hope builds in. I now have reason to judge my part of this earth as not worth a blast of smoke, or a mouthful of brown bread. I wish my hope could make a running leap, and skip over time's pleasure, sin's pleasuring and gold foil, this vain earth, and rest on my Lord. Oh how great is our night darkness in this wilderness! To be conceited at all about this world is as if a man should hold a handful of water, and holding his hand in the river, say all the water in the flood is his as it were, indeed everything was in his hand. Who would not laugh at the thoughts of such a fool. Truly they only have a handful of water, and are only like a child clasping his hands on a dream, who idolise any hope apart from God. I now lightly, and put the price of a dream, or fall, or black nothing, on all things except God, and that desirable and love worthy one, my Lord Jesus. Let all the world be nothing (for nothing was their seed and mother), and let God be all things.
   My very dear brother, know you are as near heaven as you  are far from yourself, and far from the love of a bewitching and immoral world For his world, in its gain and glory, is only the great and notable common prostitute, that all the sons of men have fancied and lusted after these 5000 years. The children they have had with this uncouth and lustful lover are only vanity, dreams, gold imaginations, and night thoughts. There is no good ground here, under the covering of heaven, for men and poor wearied souls to put their foot on. Oh, He who is called God, that One whom they term Jesus Christ, is indeed worth having, indeed, even if I had given away all I could see, my soul and myself, for sweet Jesus my Lord! Oh let the claim be cancelled that the creatures have on me, - except that claim the Lord Jesus has on me! Oh that He would claim poor me, my silly light, and worthless soul! Oh that He would press His claim to the utmost point, and not want me! For it is my pain and means sorrow to lack Him. I see nothing in this life except sinks and swamps and dreams and misleading ditches and bad ground for us to build on. 
   I am fully persuaded of Crist's victory in Scotland; but I fear that this land is not yet ripe and white (Joh 4:35) for mercy. Yet I dare go halves (on my salvation) with the losses of the Church of Scotland, that her enemies, after noon, will sing in mourning and sorrow for evermore, and the her joy will once again be cried up, and her sky will clear. But vengeance and burning will be to her enemies, and the sinners of this land. Oh if we could be awakened to prayers and humiliation! Then our sun would shine like seven seas in the heaven! Then would the temple of Christ be built on he mountain tops, and the land from coast to coast, will be filled with the glory of the Lord.
   Brother, your day job is wearing short,; your hourglass of this span length and hand width of life will quickly pass, and therefore, put matters in order between you and Christ before it comes to open court. Chris gives no quarter in open judgement. I know you see your thread wearing short, and there are not many inches to the thread's end; and therefore, lose no time.
   Remember me, His prisoner, that it would please he Lord to bring me among you again with he abundance of the Gospel. 
   Grace, grace woe with you.
      Yours, in his sweet Lord Jesus,  S.R.