Studies and Sermons

REV JOHN MACDONALD, FERINTOSH (1779-1849)

Lessons From the Life and Ministry of the 'apostle of the North'

(Banner Conference, Leicester, 2005.)

The year is 1830. John Morison, a blacksmith in Harris, is working in his smithy. There is a knock on the door. The blacksmith tells the story:

Someone came one evening to the smithy where I was hard at work at the anvil and mentioned that Dr Macdonald was come. I tried to subdue my emotion; and I longed for the absence of the messenger; and whenever the messenger had gone I ran to the smithy door and bolted it. I could then, when alone, give scope to my emotions. I danced for joy -- danced round and round the smithy floor; for I felt a load taken from off my spirit suddenly. I danced till I felt fatigued; and I knelt down and prayed and gave thanks.

Who was the Dr Macdonald whose very name made the Harris blacksmith dance? In case the name of John MacDonald, Ferintosh, is little known at this Conference, I will begin with a reference to C.H. Spurgeon, whose name presumably, is. Following Spurgeon's death in January 1892, the British Weekly ran a special commemorative edition which appeared on the 4th of February 1892, full of reminiscences and assessments of the great Baptist preacher.

Tucked away on the back page of this special edition of the BW was a small paragraph, contributed by 'A.B.', entitled 'Mr Spurgeon's Appearance'. The whole paragraph reads as follows:

Mr Spurgeon had a strong resemblance in his earlier days to John MacDonald of Ferintosh, whom Scottish Highlanders called the Apostle of the North. Dr MacDonald was the handsomer man and had especially a fine pair of eyes. But their ways of standing in the pulpit, of rolling out their words in natural and musical intonation, and of filling each paragraph with matter which did not crowd it, were singularly alike. And there were deeper resemblances. Both were Pauline theologians, both had a natural expansiveness and bonhomie; both were born preachers and rulers of the multitude, both believed in preaching, in preaching incessantly, and in not only preaching, but unfolding Christ. The only time I ever met Spurgeon I couldn't help telling him of his resemblance to the great Highlander and to John Bunyan. He could not quite deny the latter. The former he had to take in faith.

For 'A.B.', therefore, Spurgeon was the MacDonald of the South; and we might, justifiably, therefore, call MacDonald the Spurgeon of the North. That remarkable comparison is enough, it seems to me, to justify spending time in consideration of MacDonald's ministry.

MacDonald is usually referred to as 'the Apostle of the North', and our best source for his life remains the book of that title by John Kennedy of Dingwall, described by Principal John Macleod as 'the life of one evangelical giant written by another'. That has to be tempered with the assessment of one of MacDonald's sons who responded to a review of Kennedy in the Inverness Courier in 1865 with a blistering attack on Kennedy, whose work, he said, 'smacks strongly of superstition and whining mock-piety'. He asks that justice be done to his father's memory with the publication of a biography worthy of him. What all this says about Duncan MacDonald's sympathy with his father's evangelicalism I am not sure, but at the very least it cautions us in our use of Kennedy's work.

Others in church history were also given the title of 'apostle of the north', so I prefer to use his Gaelic sobriquet of 'Ministear Mor na Toisidheachd' -- the Great Minister of Ferintosh. MacDonald has an eminence in the history of the evangelicalism of the Scottish Highlands which deserves analysis and study. Like many other such figures, he is probably all but forgotten even within today's Highland church; all the more reason, therefore, for revisiting his life.

There are at least three other reasons which would justify doing so.

The first is that by any standards, MacDonald was one of the most outstanding, attractive, and singularly blessed preachers of nineteenth century Scotland. Following his death in 1847, the Free Church monthly stated that

Whether we regard Dr MacDonald as a minister of Christ, whose heart glowed with love to the Redeemer, and who therefore felt he could not do too much for the redeemed, as a divine, profound, solid and judicious, as a preacher, powerful, searching, soothing, unmatched except by the first masters of his profession, as a friend, bland, social, cordial and affectionate, he is to be long and much revered.

It is always easy to inject a note of exaggeration into our assessment of people, but when James Martin writes of MacDonald in 1888, that

without question, no minister of modern times in Britain ever excelled, if they at all equalled, this devoted man in the extend of his labours, his most faithful ministrations and sound Calvinistic views,

we do well to ask what it was that made the minister of Ferintosh great. Another work on the history of Highland evangelicalism refers to MacDonald as the 'Whitefield of the Highlands'; and he has been described as 'doing for the Highlands what Wesley did for England'. His was a remarkable ministry, with Kennedy calculating that

during three months of each year he preached, on an average, two sermons a day; and in no year of his life in Ross-shire did he preach fewer than three hundred sermons. He preached upwards of ten thousand times during the last thirty-six years of his life; and never delivered an unstudied discourse.

There is good reason, therefore, to learn from MacDonald's life.

A second reason is to address the negative publicity MacDonald has received in modern Scottish historiography. This is seen particularly in historians of St. Kilda, that lonely outcrop of the British empire, some fifty miles west of the Western Isles. MacDonald visited St Kilda four times, and some of the choicest lessons from his ministry are to be found in the records of his visits.

Modern writers, however, are disparaging in their treatment. In his history of St. Kilda (first published in 1972), for example, Charles Maclean writes:

When the Rev John MacDonald of Ferintosh visited the island in 1822 he found little which corresponded to the idea of organised religion. Buchan's manse had long ago disintegrated from lack of use and so had most of his teaching. But MacDonald, known and revered as the apostle of the north for his work in the Highlands, was a puritanical hard-necked evangelist. If Buchan had started something in St Kilda, his influence was never so keenly felt as that of the Apostle, who earnestly set about the destruction of the island culture with all the zealous goodwill of a holy bigot ... it was precisely because of their deep religiosity that MacDonald as able to lay his dogma over them so successfully and play upon their superstitious natures until they adopted its tyranny without question.

In similar vein, Tom Steel writes that, under MacDonald's influence,

'the foundations of a highly organised, strictly managed, puritan and often harsh religion were laid ... From the time of MacDonald's crusade a marked change took place in the nature of the people of Village Bay. The St Kildans lost their sense of gaiety and their love of song and dance. Their way of life, previously governed solely by wind and tide, was thereafter subject to the demands of regular churchgoing ... They believed implicitly in what he told them and a religion, the roots of which lay deep in the fear of the unknown, began its long domination over the minds of the people of St Kilda.

The name of John MacDonald, therefore, is not unknown to the historians of modern Scotland; few of them, however, are hospitable to his Calvinism or his evangelistic fervour. It is time, I think, to set the record straight.

A third reason for studying MacDonald's life is the legacy he has left of a rich body of Gaelic spiritual verse, an evangelical hymnody which remains accessible only to readers of Scottish Gaelic, but which is vibrant and rich in its evangelical piety and experiential theology.

It may seem strange that someone from a psalm-singing denomination should extol the virtues of a body of 'uninspired materials of praise'. But the particular evangelical stream out of which I have come never found it difficult to appreciate good Gaelic spiritual verse, while confining the singing in public worship to the Psalms of David. Indeed, some verses from MacDonald's hymns are still quoted in Gaelic sermons, and up until a generation or two ago, the standard practice in many Highland homes on the Lord's Day was to read, and perhaps even sing, some of these hymns.

In MacDonald's case, many of the hymns were composed as elegies for notable Highland ministers. Some of them are inordinately long: his elegy for Charles Calder, his predecessor in Ferintosh, runs to 108 stanzas of 8 lines each. But they have the virtue of conveying a rich theology, grounded in biblical Calvinism, and expressing profound insights into Christian experience. I think it is time to resurrect that Calvinistic piety as one antidote to the subjectivism of much that passes for contemporary evangelicalism.

Macdonald's Life

I do not wish to rehearse all the details of MacDonald's life here. The details are available in Kennedy's memoir, in addition to which we have MacDonald's reports of his visits to St. Kilda, as well as some published sermons. These are all valuable source material. For a useful summary of MacDonald's life, I would refer you to the article by Hywel Jones in the August 2000 edition of the Banner of Truth. I wish to give a mere summary of his life and ministry before trying to draw out some salient lessons for ourselves.

John MacDonald was born in Reay, Caithness, in November 1779, the son of a leading Christian, celebrated in one of his Gaelic compositions. The schoolmaster of Reay, recognising the intellectual potential of his young student, encouraged him in his learning, with the result that MacDonald went to Aberdeen University where he studied mathematics.

Kennedy tantalises us with the observation that 'there is reason to believe that the reading of President Edwards' works was the means of beginning the work of conviction which issued in his conversion to God'. The same language is used by John Noble in his description of MacDonald's conversion:

There is reason to believe that the works of President Edwards, his father's prayerful instruction, and the clear and precious preaching of Mr Robertson, missionary at Achany, afterwards of Rothesay and of Kingussie, were the means blessed of God for his conversion.

Kennedy does not tell us what that reason is, but I think it can be demonstrated that much of the material in MacDonald's hymns bears more than a passing resemblance to Edwards' Religious Affections; consequently, MacDonald's debt to Edwards and his popularisation of Edwardsean theology requires closer study.

His course at Aberdeen was followed by licensing by the Presbytery of Caithness in 1805. Two months later he was on a Highland Ossianic tour, researching the Homeric like poetry of an ancient writer named Ossian. Fragments of poetry relating to Ossian were published in 1760 by a schoolmaster named John Macpherson, but there was a debate over their authenticity. During his tour he preached in different places. Kennedy relates an anecdote from Glenelg, where the parish minister said to MacDonald, "That was a very good sermon, I suppose, but it was quite unsuitable here; for you spoke all day to sinners, and I know only one in all my parish". Not himself, presumably!

Ordination followed in Berriedale, Caithness, in 1806, when he also married his first wife. He served in Berriedale for only a year until the Society for Propagating Christian Knowledge presented him to the Gaelic Church in Edinburgh the following year. His work there among a Highland diaspora was onerous and difficult, particularly when the need for English services was addressed; and he also found himself in demand as a preacher in many different locations. More importantly, according to Kennedy, was the fact that he had an experience of fresh anointing and Holy Spirit baptism during his time in Edinburgh, which made his preaching more warmhearted and zealous. According to his biographer, 'the Lord's people could now testify that he spoke from his own heart to theirs'. The change was marked, and afterwards MacDonald was noted as a preacher of powerful doctrine and earnest delivery. This was no small element in his being called to the parish of Urquhart, to Ferintosh, in 1813.

There MacDonald succeeded Charles Calder, and began to labour in what Kennedy describes as 'a highly cultivated field'. Kennedy is shrewd in his observation that the rich legacy of Gospel preaching, combined with MacDonald's respect for the memory of his predecessor, meant that he could preach elsewhere with a good conscience. He often did; as John Macleod puts it, 'though his home was at Ferintosh, it was only the centre of the circle'. Not everyone appreciated the itinerant nature of his calling. Kennedy relates the following story:

A stranger, from a parish whose minister was a Moderate, once met an Urquhart man during one of his minister's long tours. 'How is your minister?' he inquired. 'I can't tell you', was the reply, 'we have neither heard nor seen him for six weeks. It is really too bad,' he added, that he should be so long away from his own parish.'
'Indeed it is,' rejoined the other, 'but I can suggest to you a plan by which you can have your minister every Sabbath.'
'And what is it?'
'Exchange your minister for mine, and I'll engage that he will be left with you for all the Sabbaths of the year'.
'O, if that's your plan we will rather stick to what we have.'
'If you won't adopt my suggestion,' the stranger said, 'let me hear no more complaints about your minister's frequent absence. Be thankful that you have a minister of whose services all are anxious to have a share'.

Perhaps, however, this ought to be tempered with John Noble's observation that while 'his own people often complained of his frequent absence, yet no sooner did he appear among them and preach, than all their complainings ceased.'

And, as Kennedy observes, 'the North needed an evangelist'. Many ministers of the period were worldly in their outlook, slothful in their lives, and false in their professions. Kennedy is scathing in his description of Moderate ministers, whom he blames for the spiritual darkness engulfing the Highlands and Islands of Scotland at the time. Under the auspices of the SPCK, Gaelic schools were established throughout the region, and an evangelical work was being done through them. MacDonald's evangelistic itineraries were often dictated by the location of these schools.

Both in Ferintosh and in his wider ministry, MacDonald soon experienced both the bitterness of bereavement as well as the sweetness of Gospel blessing. His wife's death in 1814 coincided with his first communion services at Ferintosh. These were held outdoors, at a natural amphitheatre known as the Ferintosh Burn. According to Kennedy, ten thousand were present on the occasion, and MacDonald refused to allow the death of his wife to interfere with the commemoration of the death of the Saviour. The blessing on that occasion was repeated often during his life and ministry.

As a result of preaching in Strathbogie in 1817, a complaint against MacDonald reached the General Assembly. It came in the form of a Reference from the Presbytery who were not happy at MacDonald's preaching in parishes other than his own. The Assembly found against him, declaring that to preach elsewhere without the permission of the parish minister was unconstitutional and injurious to the good of the church. MacDonald found widespread support, both within and outwith the Church; but in spite of the ruling he remained loyal to his Church. It is interesting to compare his action in 1818 with his action in 1843; when his own reputation was on the line he refused to leave, but when Christ's was threatened as a result of the intrusion of the State, he refused to stay, and left during the Disruption period.

Now, it would be easy to dismiss this action as the misguided zeal of a spiritually lukewarm church, or as the attempts of contemporary moderatism to stifle evangelistic endeavour. But there is also evidence that some elements within evangelicalism itself found it difficult to accommodate MacDonald's zeal. A letter written by John Grant in June 1817, for example, contains the following extract:

Because I know that the Lord has not permitted you to run with all the streams of the judgement of our day, I will tell you one point: I heard a great noise about the progress of the Gospel by means of J?McD?through Sutherland and Ross. It had not the effect of one sigh in black Caithness in his tour through it. It put me in great trouble of mind, and why? Because I never heard of the like of it from the beginning in the Lord's work. The trouble began in their heels and wrought up to their heads, and then they began to cry and to make an excesive motion with their hands and feet, and at evening many of them went home as sound as before ... what way will we get a healing spirit from these hellish plagues?

Grant was one of the leaders in the movement of ecclesiastical dissent known as 'Separatism', a movement which began around 1797, and which remained critical of the Established Church of Scotland but which came short of formally seceding from it. Although the Gospel was preached within Highland Separatism, it was combined with a harshness of spirit which made it less than attractive to many. It is salutary to note that there were those within the evangelical movement of the Highlands of Scotland who found MacDonald's work objectionable.

There are matters of MacDonald's private life which would be interesting to focus on, but which we have time only to note. We could mention the strict arrangement of his day, by which he worked out that he could give himself 8 hours for devotion and study, 8 hours for meals, family and parochial duties and 8 hours for sleep and dressing. We could mention his second marriage in 1818, or his large family, three from his first wife, and seven from his second. Of them all, his eldest son, Rev John Macdonald, would be justly remembered as a missionary to Calcutta. MacDonald's advice to him would be equally instructive to us. However, I simply refer you to Kennedy's biography, with the note that the news of the death of his son in 1847 was another hard blow. Nor do I wish to labour on MacDonald's part in the Disruption struggle of 1843, or of his trial when a woman accused him of fathering her child. Kennedy's handling of this is interesting: 'the Lord, he says, permitted this assault of the enemy; and there were wisdom, holiness and mercy wrapped up in the mystery of this providence'. MacDonald was eventually vindicated.

St. Kilda

I want to concentrate, however, on MacDonald's evangelistic visits to St. Kilda. His first visit to St Kilda was in 1822. Interestingly, a small boat party from our part of Lewis visited St Kilda last year (2004), and wrote up an account in our local community newspaper. The journey from Leverburgh, on the southern tip of Harris is described like this: "the group left at 10am for the 2-and-a-half hour trip to St. Kilda". It was a bit alarming when Harris faded away into the distance with no sign of St Kilda on the horizon, but eventually the islands came into sight". So if this is the nature of such a voyage in 2004, what must it have been like in 1822, when MacDonald's journey took from 4.30am to 2pm?

MacDonald's visits were under the auspices of the Scottish Society for the Propagation of Christian Knowledge (the SSPCK), whose letter of invitation appealed to 'your well known principles, and feelings of love to our common Lord, and to the souls of men,' and argued that the visit, 'from your habits of itinerating, I should incline to think would not fail to be agreeable to you'. The SSPCK had been chartered in 1709, and its chief aim was to encourage Protestantism, especially through establishing schools throughout Scotland. The schoolmasters were men of Presbyterian and anti-Roman Catholic conviction, whose educational work was in the service of an evangelistic interest. The SSPCK had planted a school in St Kilda in 1710. In his Gaelic poem 'Turas an Ughdair do Eilean H-iorta', MacDonald refers to the SSPCK in the following lines:

Tha cuideachd urramach ainmeil,
'N Dun-čidin, tha dearbhta nan eud,
Is bha riamh feumail, mar dh'earbhtadh
Feadh Ghŕidhealtachd Alba gu lčir.
A bha ri děchioll 's ri saothair,
Gun chlaonadh nan eud, no nan truas,
A chum eňlas an Fhir-saoraidh
A sgaoileadh, rčir uireasbhaidh 'n t-sluaigh.
There is a well-known, respected group
In Edinburgh, known for their zeal,
Which has always been clearly beneficial
Throughout all the Highlands of Scotland
Diligent in their labour
Without abating either their zeal or pity
That the knowledge of the Redeemer
Would spread to a needy people.

Dr Fraser MacDonald suggests that 'the arrival of MacDonald of Ferintosh in 1822 must ... be understood in the context of an aesthetic education'. There was an interest in travel, in culture and in the education that travel brings. But perhaps Fraser MacDonald underplays the real evangelistic concern which led to the long sea-voyage. Arriving on St. Kilda, MacDonald's journal describes the subsequent two-mile walk to the village and the welcome afforded him. 'I had no sooner got my foot on St Kilda ground,' he writes, 'then I trust I was enabled to praise the Lord for his great goodness in preserving me on the mighty waters, and bringing me to my much-wished for destination; and also to pray that, having so far made my journey prosperous, he would crown with much success the object of my mission.'

MacDonald set about visiting the people immediately, preaching on the evening of his arrival, and trying to fulfil his missionary purpose while not unduly disturbing the work routine of the St. Kildans. He writes:

Had some conversation with them on religious subjects; and was agreeably surprised at finding that they could repeat many of the questions of the Shorter Catechism, although they understood little of the meaning of them. Upon asking them if there was nay person in the island distinguished for religion, they told me that there was none at present remarkable in that way, but that, a few years ago, there lived among them a young man of singular piety -- that he scarcely did anything else than read his Bible and pray -- 'that he lived quite above the world -- that they were not worthy of him -- and that therefore the Lord took him to himself'. He died, it would appear, at the age of 19 or 20. Preached in the evening from Romans 3:20, on the impossibility of justification by the deeds of the law. I could perceive that some felt affected, and seemed as if they were disposed to ask, 'What must we do?' The Lord grant that this may be the case in reality. It is difficult to storm the citadel of the sinner's heart -- many a siege will it bear. Yet 'nothing is too hard for the Lord'.

It would be interesting to research the journal for many reasons, but it is particularly helpful to look at how MacDonald speaks of his ministry during this short visit:

While speaking of the Redeemer's sufferings, some appeared to be deeply impressed, and there was something like a melting under the word. The cross, I see, is that chiefly which moves the sinner.
[Sept 20th] Walked about a part of this day, and conversed with such of the people as came in my way on their spiritual concerns ... How overwhelming the thought, if these perish for ever, and perish through my negligence.
[Sept 24th] This day I examined the Gaelic school ... in the afternoon read a considerable part of President Edwards' life. What a holy man, and how careful to redeem time! May this be a stimulus to me.
[Sept 26th] I have concluded my labours among these people, after having preached to them thirteen times, besides other services, and repeated conversations with them on the momentous concerns of eternity. What the result is, He alone knows who has said, 'My word shall not return to me void', but I can with truth say, that I enjoyed much comfort in the work, and that I hope my poor 'labours shall not be in vain in the Lord'. It becomes me to speak with modesty and caution as to any real effect produced.

Attached to the Journal was a Report by MacDonald on the state of religion in St Kilda, in which he gave his view that the knowledge the people had of Scripture was imperfect and confused. 'So much is the case,' he argues, 'that the greater number of them are apt to consider the bare knowledge of the facts of Scripture, or rather the talent of recollecting and relating them, as all that is requisite to constitute the character of a true Christian.' What MacDonald describes as 'the turning point of our salvation', our acceptance with God, was one of the issues on which there was great ignorance. But it would be a mistake, he argues, to imagine that only St. Kilda was culpable in this respect: 'it is', he says,

the creed of many who enjoy superior advantages to these poor people, and who sit under the Gospel from day to day, but who do not believe its record. It is the creed of our fallen nature, and a creed which nothing less than a day of divine power will wrest from deluded man. It is not, however, the less to be deplored on this account; and it is our duty to emply the means which God has appointed for bringing men to the knowledge of the truth, fully trusting that he will give countenance and effect to these means, in the measure he sees meet.

Time does not allow us to treat the four visits to St Kilda, but I do want to refer to the second visit, in 1824. By all accounts, both MacDonald and the St Kildans were pleased to see each other again, and MacDonald set about organising his visit in a way that would not interfere with their working day, although according to his account their response to his suggestions was, 'we can easily manage our other business; and what is everything else to this?'

Again, the Journal gives interesting insights to his gospel labours in this remote island.

[May 16th] In the baptism service I took an opportunity of guarding the people against the dangerous error of supposing baptism to be synonymous with regeneration, or essential to salvation. They acknowledged they had gone into that error, but that they had never heard it corrected or exposed. I was pleased with their candour and openness to conviction.
[May 17th] O let me not despair, though I should not see instances of immediate sudden conversion! The seed below ground may be making progress though I see it not. The process of vegetation in the seed which fell into the good ground was much slower than that of the seed which fell on the stony. Let me therefore sow in hope.
[May 19th] I met with some of those who appeared to have been under serious impressions at the time I was formerly on the Island. These impressions, I fear, have subsided in a great measure, but not quite died away. The want of a regular gospel ministry is a sad loss in this respect.
I was particularly pleased, however, with the state of the old man's mind, to whom I referred in my former Journal. He feels that he is by nature a lost sinner. He has no trust but in the Redeemer. His life is correct, and his views as to the Gospel are pretty clear. He lost his eyesight since I was here before; and upon my adverting to shi, and saying, it were well for him if the eyes of his mind were opened, 'I trust they are', says he. 'And what do you see?', said I. 'That I am blind,' says he. 'I see that in myself I am a ruined sinner, but that Christ is an almighty Saviour.' 'But what if he is not willing?' said I. 'Willing!' says he; 'would h die for sinners, if he were not willing to save them? No, no!
[May 21st] The Lord enable me to speak at all times to my hearers so as to be understood, and not so much to aim at giving fully what I know, as giving what may be intelligible and profitable to them.
[May 23rd] the sinner naturally rivetted to a covenant of works, ever conceives that the warrant to close with Christ must be found in himself and not in the Gospel. Hence, he labours with all his might, when he takes any concern about the matter, to prepare himself, as he is pleased to call it, for Christ; and even seeks after convictions of sin, no so much to prompt him to flee to Christ as a ruined creature, as to afford him some reason to hope, that Christ will more readily receive him, and that he is more entitled to his regards than if he had not sought such convictions. I meet with this legal disposition in St Kilda, as well as elsewhere. The Lord grant however that we, who preach the Gospel, may not be the means of subverting it by clogging its free calls with conditions to be peformed on the part of the sinner, which strip the Gospel of the glory of its grace, and involve the distressed soul in a labyrinth of perplexity.
[May 27th] At our morning exercise this day, I read and gave some illustration of Romans 12 which afforded me an opportunity of stating the connection between faith and practice, and that the doctrines of grace are doctrines according to godliness, and lead to holiness in heart and life. This I deemed necessary, as from the high ground I had occupied for some days past, I was afraid the people might veer towards Antinomianism (an extreme as dangerous, if not more so, than Arminianism); for I find that hey could be led into any system -- such is the confidence they put in their spiritual instructor. Woe is unto me, then, if I lead them not aright!

Kennedy's memoir contains the text of a good portion of these journals, along with the records of the visits to St Kilda in 1827 and 1830. The parting on the final visit, in 1830, is extremely touching. By this time, and largely through MacDonald's efforts in raising funds, a church and manse had been built, and MacDonald was now visiting in the company of the new minister, Rev Neil Mackenzie. This was the occasion of MacDonald's visit to Harris, which caused the blacksmith such rejoicing. It was a source of great joy to MacDonald that the island had a settled ministry at last, but for MacDonald the experience of leaving St Kilda was like that of Paul leaving Miletus:

The thought that in all probability we should not see one another again in the flesh, and that this would be the last interview we should have till we meet before the tribunal of Jesus, reached our hearts like an arrow. It was completely overwhelming.

Of no less interest in this second published journal is the sermon which MacDonald preached at the annual meeting of the SSPCK in June 1825, along with which the journal of the 1824 visit was published. The text was Romans 3:21, 'but now the righteousness of God without the law is manifested', the title, 'The Righteousness of God manifested for the Justification of Sinners'. The opening sentence of the sermon reads:

The obvious design of this epistle is to illustrate and confirm the important doctrine of the sinner's justification before God -- a doctrine which lies at the very foundation of Christianity -- which includes in it, all the blessings of eternal life, and apart from which, no hope or comfort is left for man, either for time or for eternity.

We might add that it is also a doctrine which is undergoing much revision and nuancing at the present time. MacDonald's is a classic statement of the old perspective on Paul, which we lose at our peril. 'The righteousness of the divine nature', he says,

neither is, nor can be a ground of justification to sinful man ... the righteousness of the divine nature is that which ... rendered it necessary that the other righteousness by which we might be justified, should be wrought out, and thus becomes the very reason of the existence of this other righteousness ... the righteousness which justifies the sinner must be such as to become a transcript of the other, and the mirror which exhibits its true character and glory to men.

He continues:

Let us hold them, by the consoling truth, that our Divine Redeemer fulfilled the precepts of the law, as well as that he endured its penalty for man; in consequence of which, the righteousness which he wrought out has procured a title to life as well as a release of punishment, and bestows the twofold blessing of pardon and acceptance, on every one that believeth. Let us also rejoice, that if this righteousness was wrought out in behalf of others, it will also be readily conferred upon them, and eventually be applied to the myriads for whom it was thus accomplished. And let the guilty and condemned sinner avail himself of a righteousness which he is not only warranted, but invited, and even commanded, to accept, for all the purposes of salvation.

New perspectives on Paul would have given MacDonald no reason to labour in St Kilda, and no message to preach once he had got there. His message was distinctively old school, and none the worse for that: imputed righteousness, vicarious atonement, justification as declarative of our pardon, the warrant to believe being found in the Gospel and not in ourselves, the scheme of redemption irreducibly federalist in its nature and its presentation. That message energised him, motivated him, and brought Christ alive to sinners.

Time does not allow us to dwell on some of the other evangelistic journeys on which John MacDonald engaged. The London Missionary Society invited him to the capital in 1823, and he records his experiences there. He was disappointed not to have heard Daniel Wilson, but rejoiced to hear Wilberforce and others at a meeting of the British and Foreign Bible Society. The reason he was in London was to preach the anniversary sermon of the LMS, which he did before a gathering of 3000 people. He preached for an hour and a half on Acts 2:17-18. Interestingly, he says that 'I delivered the sermon without my notes and felt more at ease on that account'. He also appreciated having communion with several ministers (evidence of a broad and ecumenical spirit), presided over by Rowland Hill.

There was an evangelistic visit to Ireland in 1827. I find it interesting that the invitation was particularly for a Gaelic-speaking evangelist to preach in Southern Ireland to the Irish-speaking population. It seems to have come from an episcopalian source, from men who were anxious to reach the native Roman Catholic population with the Gospel. MacDonald made strenuous efforts not just to get there, but to read and speak Irish Gaelic.

The record of this visit, preserved in Kennedy's account, is a very instructive insight into the efforts of a Celtic evangelist proclaiming the Word of God to his fellow-Celts. Many Roman Catholics came to hear MacDonald preach, and he engaged many in private conversation. Throughout his visit he was overwhelmed by the fact that the one thing the priests disallowed of their people was their reading the Bible. The people detected a difference between MacDonald's preaching and that of their priests. In a conversation with three Roman Catholics after a service, in which they pointed this out to him, MacDonald asked them if they were sure their priest spoke according to the Bible.

'We are not, sir,' they answered; 'and if what you said tonight is true, he does not.' 'I spoke and read from the Bible'. 'And you spoke to our hearts. Oh, what shall we do!' they cried. 'Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, and you shall be saved'.

MacDonald also became increasingly aware of the superstitions which the people entertained, and the hold that the priests had over them. On one occasion he was preaching on the parable of the Good Samaritan, and mentioned the priest who passed by, casually stating in his sermon that he was not going to enquire at present as to why the priest past by. Kennedy records:

At once, a man rose up in the congregation and said, 'Please, your Reverence, I can tell you why the priest passed him by.' 'I shall be glad to hear,' the preacher said, 'if you can tell'. 'And that I can,' he said; 'it was because he knew that the thieves had left no money in his pocket.

I have every reason to concur with the statement of Rev D. Beaton, that 'in a brief sketch like this it is almost impossible to give an adequate idea of how manifold were his labours as an evangelist'. If it was at all possible, MacDonald would not decline an invitation to preach the Gospel.

In connection with MacDonald's frequent preaching, it is perhaps important to note the connection between the blessings which often accompanied his preaching and the traditional Scottish communion seasons. As Donald Macleod notes:

The practice which came to prevail in the Highlands was to have communion twice a year. This was significantly modified, however, by the rise of what came to be called Communion seasons. The origin of the practice, so far as the Highlands are concerned, probably goes back to the banishment of Robert Bruce to Inverness, first in 1605 and again in 1622. Bruce continued to preach during his exile and these preachings attracted large crowds from all over the eastern Highlands. These migrations became a staple feature of religious life not least because Bruce was followed by a long succession of outstandingly gifted preachers, particularly in Ross-shire. From Hog of Kiltearn to Kennedy of Dingwall these Highland preachers matched in stature the very best of the south and could command huge audiences wherever they went. Such men were frequently asked to 'assist' at Communions.

This context is important, not just because this practice still obtains in the Highlands and Islands of Scotland, but particularly because much of MacDonald's ministry was conducted precisely in this religious milieu. Kennedy notes, for example, that the most memorable sermon ever preached by MacDonald was an action sermon (the sermon preached on the Sunday morning immediately prior to the Sacrament) on the text 'Thy Maker is thy Husband' (Isaiah 54:5). He preached on this at a communion in Glenlyon in Perthshire, 'to an assembly of people more numerous than had ever met before in Breadalbane ... The sermon was accompanied with an extraordinary outpouring of the Spirit'.

Religious Poetry

Most of MacDonald's poetry comes to us in the form of elegies, celebrating the lives and ministries of some of his predecessors or contemporaries, such as Charles Calder of Ferintosh, John Robertson of Kingussie and John Kennedy of Killearnan. In his study of Gaelic spiritual verse, John Macinnes describes these elegies as 'a very effective party propaganda weapon', a vehicle for the dissemination of evangelical doctrine. He goes on to describe the pattern of a typical elegy in the following paragraph:

He expresses his own and the people's grief at the death of a man who was 'reul', 'solus alainn', 'ceann-iuil' or 'gaisgeach treun'. He proceeds to enumerate the qualities of mind and spirit which fitted him for his work. He was a 'twice-born Man', owing his call to the work of the ministry, not merely to a patron's presentation, but to the imperious command of Christ, backed by the popular assent. Then, as though the dead minister were even now addressing his people, he goes on to give a lengthy resume of the teaching once heard from the now empty pulpit. It was a method calculated to have a powerful influence on the minds of a sensitive and warm-hearted people.

It would be good to expand on this by looking in detail at some of these elegies. One of the most moving was composed as an elegy for his father, the celebrated catechist of the parish of Reay. It is written in three parts, the first entitled 'The Christian on his way to Jordan', 'The Christian on the Banks of Jordan', and 'The Christian beyond Jordan'. A reasonable translation appears in the Free Presbyterian edition of Kennedy's biography.

I want to try to capture some of MacDonald's insights by examining his poem on 'The Work of the Spirit in the lives of the People of God'. Macinnes describes this as 'a metrical treatise on the work of the Holy Spirit in the souls of believing Christians,', and adds, 'There is a refreshing absence of the censorious party spirit in this piece. It may not be great poetry, but it is an excellent sermon'.

Whether it is great poetry is a very subjective view, but it is certainly more than a sermon: it is a remarkable treatment of the work of the Holy Spirit. We shall run through the main doctrinal emphases of this poem, which runs to 85 stanzas of 8 lines. MacDonald introduces his theme: how the work of the Spirit may be recognized, in its fruit and in its manner. Acknowledging that it is a hidden work, he knows too that the fruit of the tree is proof of its root and life.

The doctrinal point of departure is the universal Fall of mankind in Adam, by which 'the work of the goldsmith' has been spoilt (III). We are born into this condition, under the sentence of death, slaves to sin and Satan, liable to eternal punishment. But God's eternal purpose, from the depths of his love, was to provide a Saviour in the Person of Christ to secure redemption, and one in the Person of the Holy Spirit who will apply that redemption to all the elect.

MacDonald then nuances this, and asks: 'if Christ died for everyone, as some say, would any sinner suffer the pain of the second death? Would law and justice demand the repayment of debts already cleared?' To which the poet simply says that Preachers and People who give place to that form of doctrine are poor indeed (VII).

It is true, he goes on to say, that the Gospel call and offer are to be extended to all without exception, and that all who believe, without exception, will enjoy the benefits of Christ's redemption. But while that is true, MacDonald argues, God's eternal decree of election will stand. He then makes the important observation that the purposes of God are a great mystery; but they are a rule of activity for God himself alone; he did not give us these secret, mysterious, eternal purposes to be the rule of our obedience: he gave us his Word. That is the warrant we have for saying to sinners that they must flee to Christ immediately (X).

So the work of the Spirit, in applying the redemption to sinners, is a work of grace, and, in its nature, is the same in every regenerate heart. Although there are differences in Christs's flock, he says, all the sheep have the same kind of wool, and the same kind of nature. It is a work which is hidden from the world; and, in part, is hidden even from those who receive its benefits (XIII).

MacDonald goes on to talk of the Spirit bringing conviction of sin, concern for a lost condition, despair at one's own efforts at reformation. He will wound before he heals; the wounding, he says, will be sore, but the healing will be according to the wounding; and it is never the Spirit's intention to leave the soul wounded, but to bring the sinner to Christ. All is to the praise of God's grace: just as the salvation our soul needs is of grace, so too is the faith that is living and saving.

The poet speaks of a great error going around in his day, which appeals to fallen human nature: that saving faith precedes regeneration (XXII). He handles this point magnificently. He says that it is true that it our duty to believe in Christ, and to accept his testimony; conversely, it is the guilt of thousands who have heard the Gospel that they never believed. But it is one thing, he argues, to say that it is the sinner's duty to obey God's word; it is quite another to imagine that a sinner has the ability to call that faith into being. Faith, says MacDonald, is a flower that never grew in the garden of nature; it always required better soil to give it growth (XXV). Regeneration must precede.

In applying the work of redemption, the Spirit unites us to Christ, in a bond which nothing will sever (XXVI). He dwells in us, making us his Temple, working in us the willing and the doing, sanctifying us by the Word, enabling us to love Christ. The Word will become a mirror for us, in which we will see Christ. And if we can see him in all his preciousness there, MacDonald says, that is the work of the Spirit (XXXVIII).

The effects of the Spirit's presence in the believer are then delineated: the Spirit will enable the believer to walk in the light of Scripture (XXXIX), to confess Jesus (XLII), unlike the Moderate ministers who have ejected Christ out of his dwelling-place. The Spirit will enable believers to pray to their Father in Heaven (XLVI); sometimes they will pray with a deepening consciousness of God's presence, which MacDonald compares here to Jacob's wrestling with the angel at Peniel (XLIX) -- he describes the gracious angel as being too strong for Jacob to overcome, yet strengthening Jacob in the act of making him wrestle with him.

MacDonald laments the disappearance of pentecostal seasons of blessing on the people of God: days of spiritual Summer, he says, have passed into Winter (LIII). He reminds us that he is not passing on hearsay, but reporting what he himself witnessed (LIV) of spiritual conversion. No one could doubt but that there had been mighty workings of the Spirit in times past.

MacDonald then turns to address the children of God, urging them not to grieve God's Spirit (LXI), lest he withdraw his presence for a time. Not, he urges, that the Spirit will ever completely leave the soul in which he has come to dwell; but it is possible that a believer can become like a withered bush in the garden, whose roots are still alive, but whose branches bear no fruit.

In the same poem he expresses his passion for souls as he addresses the lost: 'O you, the people for whom I care -- it is my ardent desire that you close in with my Beloved, before you lie in the dust; for in his love he would gladly pour the Holy Spirit upon you: O, move, flee, join with him -- be wise!' (LXIX). He urges believers to pray earnestly that the dew of Heaven will come down in the church, to pray for revival warmth to melt the ice of death, to pray for breath to blow on the dry bones, the effective breath of God, that would remove famine and leanness, and change the very appearance of the church (LXVI-LXVII).

He concludes with an exhortation to preachers (LXXXI-LXXXIII):

And you, the ministers of the Lord

Who have been given office in his vineyard,

And who have accepted His Headship in his church,

And who seek the good of the flock;

O! I would exhort you

To feed His own people

And to call sinners to bow before Him

In whom they can trust forever.

The dew of that Glorious Spirit --

May you know it and experience it!

Give him a dwelling-place

In your own lives particularly.

For He will give you liberty and ability,

That can equip you for your office,

And without His face and fellowship,

Your work is worthless!

O, always be like lights,

Shining among the people,

And remember that you are salt

For the earth in which you dwell.

And let the glory of the Redeemer be declared by you --

His love, His death, His victory --

And labour under the dew of the Spirit;

And your labour will have its reward.

The work of the Spirit, he concludes, is a work which flows from the Triune God, and which resides in the Triune God, and is a work for all eternity (LXXXV).

The fourth part of John Morison's elegy on Dr MacDonald highlights the main themes of his doctrine, and pays close attention to MacDonald's preaching on the Person and Work of the Holy Spirit. Morison begins by saying that MacDonald could speak of the Spirit with such consummate skill, and conducted himself in such a manner, that it was evident that both the doctrine and the subject had gone through all the preacher's inward parts. Morison begins each stanza of this part of the elegy by individualising each aspect of the Spirit's work: the Spirit who moved on the waters, the Spirit of Truth, the Spirit of revival, the Spirit of light, the Spirit of union [with Christ], the Spirit of gifts, the Spirit of faithfulness, the Spirit of prayer and watchfulness, the Spirit of God and glory, who dwells in the hearts of his people, the Spirit of restfulness, the Spirit of love -- this was the Spirit of whom MacDonald spoke; yet, as Morison puts it, the gifts of the Spirit are not the ground of confidence or hope of those who possess them. Those who are spiritual, he says, acknowledge that Christ alone is their salvation.

Now, both in MacDonald's own treatment, and in the summary of the bard, who, it must be remembered, heard MacDonald preach, there are clear echoes of Edwards, whose writings were so effective a means in MacDonald's conversion, and were studied by him long afterwards. There is the attempt to distinguish between the reality of the Holy Spirit in the lives of God's people, and a religion which is only a form of godliness. There is also the warning, so much a part of the argument, for example, of the Religious Affections, that unless Christ is the sole ground of our confidence, no amount of religion or experience can save us. Indeed, it is the Religious Affections that MacDonald commends to his son as 'a work of distinguished merit, as discriminating, in the most clear, convincing and scriptural manner, between true religion and every counterfeit'. This is a major theme in MacDonald's poems also, the Edwardsean theology being translated into a popular Gaelic idiom and through a powerful Gaelic medium. The poetry was an effective vehicle for the dissemination of careful, biblical, practical, experiential Calvinism. Or, in the words of Principal John Macleod, they give us an insight into 'the old godliness of the North Highlands'.

By many standards, the minister of Ferintosh was, indeed, 'great': great in his doctrine, in his evangelising zeal and in his legacy.

Some Lessons From Macdonald's Life

First, there is his high view of ministerial office. That comes through clearly in his elegies to former ministers. Of Charles Calder, MacDonald says that he did not go out, like many others, who love the call of their Patron, and who have made Sion a wilderness: 'before you accepted the office of pastor, you received a call from God and from a people, and that bound your parish and yourself to one another in bonds of love' (XXI). Of John Robertson, Kingussie, he says 'it would be a great blessing to all those who rush into God's vineyard, before they accept the leading of a flock, to follow your example in that step' (XVIII). The elegy tells of how Robertson was for many years a follower of Christ, learning and observing the ways of God in his people, before God called him. When he did, he was prepared and able to preach law and Gospel without mixture or confusion.

The elegies betray a high view of the work of the ministry, one which demands more than ordinary grace, and more than ordinary learning. MacDonald had imbibed the view that Christ himself furnishes men for the task of the ministry, and that through the ministry his people are taught, sinners are called, the church is built. When his son was licensed, MacDonald wrote to him:

The day on which you recveived your licence constitutes an important date, and inaugurates a new era in your life. The rise or fall of some in Israel may depend on the event which then took place -- nay, so far as instrumentality is concerned, the eternity of your hearers may turn upon it. This, I confess, is a solemn, and at times may prove an overwhelming thought. But be strong in your Redeemer; for he is mighty to save and rich in mercy.

In our day, which emphasises so much the corporate nature of ministry, and which tends more and more to move away from the idea of a one-man ministry, it would do us well to remember the means God used in the great Highland revivals of the past. Perhaps we need to teach our people their history and to demonstrate that it has pleased God, many times, singularly to bless the preaching ministry of individuals whom he has called and equipped for the task, and who have been called and settled over congregations.

Those of us who are ministers need to remind ourselves constantly of the responsibilities and privileges of our high office. 'Who, having been appointed a preacher, would stoop to be a king?'. Perhaps we need to learn the language of the apostle Paul, as he speaks of 'the glorious gospel of the blessed God with which I have been entrusted ... I thank him who has given me strength, Christ Jesus our Lord, because he judged me faithful, appointing me to his service' (1 Timothy 1:11-12). Our greatest encouragement comes from our ever-deepening understanding of the place we occupy in Christ's service.

Second, those who are called to preach ought to have joy in preaching. Kennedy says of MacDonald:

To Dr Macdonald preaching was no toil. He was so devoted to it, and became so dependent for his happiness on his work as an evangelist, that the day of which he wearied most, was the day on which he did not preach. He shrunk from acknowledging on any occasion that he felt fatigued, in case it might be suspected that he was wearied of the work, because sometimes wearied in it. And yet it was he who said, 'I never went to the pulpit without fear, and I never left it without shame'.

This same note is sounded by Donald Sage who says that he accompanied MacDonald on some of his evangelistic excursions, not to assist him, but, he says,

To witness the extent of his labours, and from Tuesday to Friday he preached thrice daily. But these daily engagements were not yet enough to satisfy his ardent desire to 'spend and be spent' in the service of his Lord. It had, as he himself observed, become his element to preach the gospel, and, like our modern tourists in their own peculiar spehere making out new tours of pleasure through countries untravelled before, so he, in his heaven-bound course, cut out new work and sought earnestly after new fields of apostolic labour.

Surely there is something wrong with us if we claim to be called to preach, and yet find preaching a chore! We need to rediscover the joy of being commissioned with the good news. Our Saviour was equipped, anointed with the Holy Spirit and with power, and, for him, it was an anointing with the oil of gladness beyond his companions (Psalm 45:7). We have the same Spirit, and are called into the same service. May we find continual delight in knowing that we are about our Father's business.

Third, there is the lesson that Calvinism is the best friend of evangelism. When MacDonald's evangelistic preaching is analysed, it will be found that it is powerful in its simplicity. Election is there, foreordination is there, limited atonement is there, supernatural regeneration is there; and because these elements are there, the free offer of the Gospel is there, and it is bathed in a passion for the souls of men, in dependence upon the Spirit, and with a clear end in view: that men will close in with Christ and take him at his word. In Norman Macfarlane's words, 'What sermons! What massive doctrines and piercing appeals! He seemed to live with the doctrines of grace as his intimates'. And that was the case simply because, as MacDonald himself puts it in one of his sermons, 'The object of faith is Truth'.

But if I can explore that a little further, it is doctrine that is unashamedly federalist both in its structure and in its presentation. That point is fittingly made in a memorandum by Rev David Mackenzie, at one time Free Church minister of Farr:

What I have to say of [John MacDonald] according to my knowledge of the Scheme of Redemption is that when I saw and heard him, I saw and heard a true Evangelist, a scribe well instructed in the things of the Kingdom of Heaven -- one who earnestly longed for the salvation of souls -- one who sought not himself but the glory of his Master -- one who well understood both Covenants -- one who wished to direct sinners to escape from the first Covenant to the second and one whose Theology on Doctrine and in Practice was wholly moulded and modelled by Paul's system in his Epistle to the Romans and in all his Epistles to the Churches.
I heard William Achina, a godly man in this parish and no mean judge, say that a sermon preached by Mr MacDonald at Reay in 1815 was as complete a compendium of Divinity on the Covenant of Grace as ever he read.

If I could do anything to raise the power and profile of preaching in our day, it would be to encourage a greater use of the word 'covenant' in our pulpit ministry. I suspect that somewhere along the line we have lost sight of the covenant arrangements by which the Good News is structured. We need the Gospel because of a broken Covenant of Works. Man by nature, as MacDonald puts it, is rivetted to a broken covenant, constantly deluding himself with the belief that what he does can secure his salvation. But there is a Saviour for fallen man, and he is such by virtue of a covenant of redemption between the Father and the Son. These federal transactions, as Owen puts it, between God the Father and God the Son, these intra-trinitarian counsels, are the grounds upon which one unique Person is set apart to be the Mediator. And there is a Gospel because of a covenant of grace; the good news is simply the voice of out that covenant, calling sinners into it. May that vision of a glorious salvation do for us what it did for the Highlands of Scotland in the first half of the nineteenth century, and may God be pleased to come with his dew on the church in our day. In the words of one commentator, writing on MacDonald's sermons, 'we need a reviving of this kind of preaching in our own time, preaching in which the sinner and the Saviour are brought face to face, and an earnest endeavour is made to effect a union between them through the power of the Holy Ghost'.

Postscript

John MacDonald was appointed Gaelic Moderator of the Free Church Assembly which met in Inverness in 1845. Alexander Beith visited the Assembly and sat in on MacDonald's sermon on Acts 17:6 -- 'These that have turned the world upside down are come hither also.' In his account of the visit, Beith writes:

Let us for a moment direct our attention to this remarkable man ... He is before us in full vigour -- his massive, robust, firmly-knit person, which has weathered the blasts of nearly seventy winters; his visage glowing and bronzed by the suns of as many summers -- surmounted by the dark scanty wig, enclosing a head of finest mold; his clear black eye; his voice of sweetest melody -- sweet and powerful, notwithstanding a life-long habit of snuff-taking. Such was Dr John MacDonald, the great Apostle of the North ...
... made what he has become to the Church, not by culture, nor by any stores of knowledge other than the Scriptures, pure and simple, yield, and such as nature's child gathers from everything with which he becomes associated.

Perhaps, at last, if we gathered more from a greater association with the Scriptures, we too would know power and blessing in ministry.