John Urquhart, part 15: An Urgent Appeal to a Brother
Although John did not have a clear timeline to the mission field, he sensed the nearness of his departure approaching. He would in fact depart soon, but not in the way that he expected. This urgency made him anxious for the spiritual state of his friends and family that he would be leaving behind. He knew that his opportunities to plead with them would soon be coming to an end. Just a year before, he had watched one brother die in a cloud of spiritual uncertainty, and was very concerned for David, his remaining brother. Today is the first part of a letter he wrote to him from college. He is especially concerned that David, having grown up in a Christian home, will mistake being comfortable with the teachings and practices of Christianity for actually being a repentant and converted sinner.
John gives us an example of how we might use a letter to reason with a friend or family member. This is a neglected technology that can still play a significant role in evangelism. A personal, physical letter is a rare and welcome sight. It is also conducive to putting our thoughts down in a reasoned and unpressured way, and allows the recipient to thoughtfully read (and perhaps re-read) what we have written.
St. Andrews, February 10, 1826.
My Very Dear Brother, —I have often wished, my dear David, to have some closer conversations with you than I have yet had, on religious subjects, either in person or by letter. For the moment, my only option is to write to you; and in some respects I think it the actually the best option, as we can express our thoughts both more deliberately and more freely than we perhaps could in personal conversation. I hope you will not think me obtrusive in bringing this subject before you. Since I believe that not only a right understanding of the gospel, but also a real belief of its truths, is necessary to our happiness, you shouldn’t be surprised that I would be anxious to know the feelings of my dearest friends in regard to this important subject.
We, my dear brother, have enjoyed very distinguished privileges, in having a knowledge of the gospel from our infancy. But although early religious instruction is a blessing whose value cannot be calculated, it has also its disadvantages. We who know the gospel, and whose early inclinations (the strongest of all inclinations) are in favour of the gospel, are very apt to rest in our knowledge, or in our attachment to certain religious opinions, as a proof of our faith, and consequently of a state of safety in regard to another world. Now, I think it is of the very greatest importance to remember that there can be no belief where there is no feeling. In the ordinary affairs of life, we are disposed at once to admit that a man cannot believe anything without being suitably impressed by it. We all know this to be true, so how could we be deceived for a moment that in this one instance, where these great truths should make the deepest impressions, that in this, and in this alone, these truths can be believed without being felt?
Would you think me judgemental, if I should say, I feared you were not a Christian? Would you not be quite startled, if I said I suspected you to be an infidel? I do not mean, my dear David, to make either of these assertions, far less to do so with a judgemental and critical spirit. But I will confess to you, that I have an uncertainty of your spiritual condition that fills me with the greatest concern on your account. We are startled at the name of infidel; and we are very apt to think that a man may be unregenerate, and yet very far removed from anything like infidelity. We are very apt to think that there may be such a thing as a half Christian, one who is almost a Christian. But it is silly to be deluded by mere names. The Bible tells us, that ‘He who believeth shall be saved, and he who believeth not shall be condemned.’ We are told of no transition state in another world—half way between heaven and hell, or nearer the one than the other. No; we must either rise to inconceivable glory, or sink into unutterable woe. The grand question is,—do we believe the gospel, or do we not? This, and this alone, fixes our after state. If we believe, we shall reign with saints and angels; if we do not believe—if we have hesitated whether we shall receive the gospel or not—if we have been even almost persuaded to believe; and if, moreover, we have been possessed of all the knowledge, and even all the graces which can adorn an unregenerate character, still, notwithstanding all, if matters stop here, we will be condemned throughout eternity, to be gathered with the very outcasts of society—with the blasphemers and atheists—with liars and murderers. This is a very fearful view of the matter, but is it not the view which the Scriptures present? And it is in this view of the matter, which leads me to fear and even (I acknowledge,) to suspect, that my own brother may be among the number of those who are securely, and even cheerfully walking on to the pit of endless perdition.
This is an awful thought, and I have felt its awfulness. I have often wept, from the bitterness of the thought, that we may soon part never to meet again; and, excepting the prayers I have offered for my own forgiveness, the most earnest petitions I have ever presented at the throne of mercy, have been those I have put up for a brother’s salvation. I believe there is an efficacy in prayer, and I am not without the hope that these prayers will be answered. I have sometimes thought, that I could see that you had a conviction that all was not right with you; that after all, there was a something in Christianity which you had not experienced. I could remember that such was the state of my own mind, when the Spirit of God first strove with my rebellious heart; and the hope dawned upon me, that this might be the beginning of his working upon your mind. That hope has often been blasted by your indifference, or your open rebellion against God; but, though often blasted, I still continue to cherish it. The Lord grant that it may be realized. (to be continued)
