"I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain" George Matheson, I.

Probably most Christians who appreciate good hymns know the hymn O Love that wilt not let me go. The hymn was written by George Matheson, a Church of Scotland minister in the late 19th Century. This year marks the 100th anniversary of George Matheson's death, in North Berwick on Tuesday 28th August 1906. Since most people know little about Matheson beyond the fact that he was blind and wrote a hymn, we considered it to be appropriate to mark his death by disseminating some more information about him.

George Matheson was born in Glasgow on March 27th 1842. The date immediately reminds us that he was born into a society where the national Church was in crisis. A year after Matheson's birth the Church of Scotland divided.
George Matheson's parents remained in the Church of Scotland, and this fact set the direction for Matheson's eventual career, where he would be known as a man who valued peace and unity - perhaps too highly.
George Matheson's parents were respectable middle class folk; his father was a successful merchant, a godly man who not only laboured to make wealth, but cared for the good of the community in which God had placed him, and for the good of those in his employment. His name was also George Matheson (so, in American terms, our George Matheson was George Matheson Junior) and a highlander, a native of the ancient cathedral town of Dornoch.
He had at first looked to the ministry as hi future, but God had other purposes for him. He prospered in business, and was an elder in the Church of Scotland.
So George Matheson (Jr.) had a firm foundation, brought up in the old paths of theology.

Next time, God willing, we shall see more of his being brought up, and we shall read of how he lost the power of sight.

"I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain" George Matheson, V.

George Matheson, the blind Scottish poet, had been called as assistant to the pastor under whose ministry he had been brought up. His preaching was not scintillating, but it was competent and interesting. During this time he was growing and developing in his experience. A congregation of a thousand certainly stretched the young probationer, both as a preacher and, more particularly, as a pastor.

George Matheson's time as an assistant pastor was short, and he was soon elected pastor of a parish of his own, the parish of Innellan, at that time a Chapel of Ease of Dunoon parish. Innellan is a beautiful seaside village in West Scotland, about two miles from Dunoon village. The church there had only been built some fifteen years before Matheson's call, but the village had been developed as a holiday resort, and so it was a very wealthy and comfortable village. Today the seafront at Innellan is still lined with solid Victorian villas, testimony to its Victorian prosperity. George Matheson lived in the midst of the most beautiful scenery, but of course he could not see it.
The Rev. George Matheson was ordained the fifth minister of the Chapel of Ease, Innellan on 8th April 1868 by the Dunoon Presbytery. The following Lord's Day he was formally introduced to the congregation. The man who performed this duty was Rev. Dr. Macduff, whose assistant Matheson had been. The church was crowded with the rich and the poor. George Matheson thus entered upon his first pastorate, an event that would be a serious challenge to him, as it is to every young minister.

Next time, God willing, we shall take a look at Matheson's Innellan ministry.

"I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain" George Matheson, III.

George Matheson was of necessity somewhat limited in his choice of a career by his rapidly deteriorating eyesight. He had wanted to become a lawyer, and in later years he said that he would have become one if it had not been for his disability. Matheson had a great gift of public speaking and an ability to think on his feet that would have been of great use to a lawyer. But it was not to be.
Matheson was a bright scholar, and his family's residence in Glasgow meant that he was able to attend the city's university, which was then located in its seventeenth century buildings in the city centre, not in its present home. Matheson was therefore able to remain at the family home, with his family able to help him by reading aloud to him and by taking dictation from him when necessary.
Matheson shone in his university days, and he was accorded no special treatment because of his blindness. Professor Buchanan, known as 'Logic Bob', the greatest of the professors at Glasgow in those days, compared Matheson to George Milton - a not inappropriate comparison of two blind Christian poets.

After completing his Arts Course, George Matheson entered the Divinity Hall of the University to study for the Church of Scotland ministry. The Divinity Professor at Glasgow in this period was Professor John Caird, and his influence on the students was profound. Caird's theology, however, was not that of the old Scottish tradition; rather it was deeply influenced by German philosophy, more specifically the philosophy of Hegel. Matheson was himself deeply impressed by Caird, and the result of this was that Matheson was never completely orthodox in his theology again. Unlike many of his classmates, however, Matheson never studied in Germany - he was prevented by his blindness.
George Matheson was a popular student who made friends easily in university, and his frank, sensitive, yet friendly nature was the sort that makes for the best of pastors. His preaching was impressive, and a bright future in the ministry of the Church of Scotland beckoned.

How he entered the ministry we shall see, God willing, next time

'I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain'. George Matheson -XXIII

The St. Bernard's years were years of great literary productivity. In addition to the major works that have already been referred to, Matheson published many other books during this time, not to mention numerous articles in magazines and periodicals. Among the books he wrote were The Distinctive Messages of the Old Religions, in which he explored the differences between Christianity and the world religions, and The Lady Ecclesia, an allegory in which he sought to explore the development of Christian experience. Another book of meditations, Words by the Wayside, and Sidelights from Patmos were also published. The latter book, as the titles suggests, was not an exposition of the Revelation, but a series of chapters in which the Revelation was made to speak to the modern world. Matheson stated the aim of the book thus:

"I believe the design of John in Patmos was to state the principles which would
regulate the good time coming. He wishes to indicate what in any world would be
to him the consummation of happiness. He does so sometimes in sober language,
sometimes in allegoric symbols. I have made a few selections both from the sober
language and from the allegoric symbols, with a view of testing the adaptation
of the picture to our modern ideas of optimism. The other question I wish to
consider in these, otherwise disconnected, chapters is, whether St. John's ideal
is still our ideal." (Quoted in Macmillan, George Matheson [New York,
1908] Pp. 285-6)

George Matheson lived, while pastor of St. Bernard's, in a house in St. Bernard's Crescent. As the picture above shows, St. Bernard's Cresent is an elegant example of Georgian architecture, reputedly designed by the painter Sir Henry Raeburn, at the suggestion of Sir David Wilkie. The street looks pretty much the same today, but of course with the ubiquitous parked cars lining the pavements. By the time George Matheson came to live there, the district was looking run-down, and his study looked out onto a slum. The house was, however, in the centre of his parish, and close to his church, and therefore most suitable for him. He shared the house with his sister, who was, in modern language, his 'carer', and who did those things that the blind minister could not. Matheson never married, so that his sister took the role usually played in a congregation by the pastor's wife. The other vital member of Matheson's household was his secretary. He had a succession of young men who worked in this capacity. It was the task of these men to read his letters, and the morning papers to him every morning, and then to assist him in the study by reading to him the books that a minister needs to study.

Four years after coming to St. Bernard's, Dr. Matheson learned to read and to write Braille. Before this, all his reading had been in the form of his secretary or sister reading aloud to him, and all of his books had been dictated. Alone, all he could do was to meditate on what was in his capacious memory. Braille writing was something he found a great deal of delight in, though his secretaries, who had to 'translate' the Braille into English letters, were not so happy, as Matheson did not exactle write genuine Braille, but his own modification of the system. The purpose of his Braille writings were mostly private, but his secretaries had to read the notes that he wrote in the script - and that took time for them to learn. The mechanical typewriter was another aid to writing that he acquired in these later years. Technology is not a bad thing, it too can be a blessing from God. Both Braille and typewriter gave Dr. Matheson a degree of independence in writing that he must have revelled in.

God willing, next time we shall continue with Dr. Matheson.

"I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain" George Matheson, IV.

George Matheson was licenced to preach by the Presbytery of Glasgow on 13th June 1866. He signed the register himself, but another had to place the point of the pen for him to begin writing.
He did not actual begin to preach until the following year, spending the remainder of 1866 writing sermons and otherwise preparing for the work of the ministry. Although he found travel difficult, Matheson managed to travel to Paris and London in this period, both of course by railway.
George Matheson was determined to be a great preacher. This was, after all, the age of the great preacher, with Spurgeon and Parker in London, AlexanderMaclaren in Manchester, R.W. Dale in Birmingham, and a host of men in Scotland. Matheson studied particularly the men who were the 'greats' of the Church of Scotland in that period, Caird, Norman Macleod, Charteris, Pulsford and Macduff, all of whom have vanished into the oblivion of history.
It was Dr. Macduff of Sandyford Church, Glasgow, who was to have the greatest influence on Matheson, for the simple reason that he was the pastor of the church where Matheson's parents were members, and where young Matheson had gone from early boyhood. It was Dr. Macduff who called the young man to be his assistant pastor six months after Matheson had been licenced. Matheson asked to be excused on the ground that he had so few sermons prepared, but when it was discovered that he had thirteen, Macduff declared that this was quite enough, and so George Matheson was officially appointed Dr. Macduff's assistant on 8th January 1867. Once again it will be seen how God provided a relatively easy route for the blind preacher.

Next time, God willing, we shall consider Matheson's time at Sandyford Church.

'I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain'. George Matheson -XIV

So far we have seen George Matheson as a writer of serious theology, a man appreciated by academics. But that is not how most know him. We know him as the blind poet=preacher who wrote 'O Love that will not Let me go', and other poems. And so he was, for like all men, he was a complex character. About the same time that he delivered his Baird lectures, with their complex theme and academic tinge, he began to write what would become a long series of devotional books that would be far more influential and popular than his Aids to the Study of German Theology, or his Natural Elements of Revealed Religion.

These books had their genesis in Matheson's pulpit-work. Since he had to memorise the Scripture-reading perfectly in order to give it out in the pulpit, George Matheson replaced one of the Scripture readings in his services with a short meditation on a part of Scripture. These meditations were a popular part of Matheson's ministry, and some of his hearers preferred them to his sermons. As a result, since his congregation included many of the great and the good, it was almost inevitable that these meditations should be published. Indeed the first request for this came in 1872. But it was not until 1882 that Matheson finally gave in and issued the first of his devotional books, My Aspirations. It was an immediate success, and what was more, it went on selling for years. It was no flash in the pan popular Christian book. Those interested may find the text here. Not only did My Aspirations sell well in the United Kingdom, but it was translated into German and other languages.

This unexpected success led him to prepare more of these short meditations for the press, and between 1883 and his death in 1906, George Matheson published seven of these small devotional books. They were always secondary to his main work as a minister, but they were probably his most popular books. The meditations are all based on Scripture texts, and they deal with every facet of the Christian life. The opening meditation of My Aspirations is typical in this respect. It deals with the text 'And God saw everything that He had made, and behold it was very good." Matheson draws from this the message to the Christian that all the ways of providence are 'very good' even though we cannot understand how at the moment. Again, let us recall that Matheson was blind, a terrible handicap for a scholar and a pastor, as it meant that books had to be read to him. He writes for the Christian who has to live in the real world, where there is suffering and loss, where life is difficult.

This book was published at the same time as Matheson's most enduring monument, his hymn 'O Love that Wilt not let me go'. The words are famous:

O Love that wilt not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in thee;
I give thee back the life I owe,
That in thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.

O light that foll’west all my way,
I yield my flick’ring torch to thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in thy sunshine’s blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be.

O Joy that seekest me through pain,
I cannot close my heart to thee;
I trace the rainbow through the rain,
And feel the promise is not vain,
That morn shall tearless be.

O Cross that liftest up my head,
I dare not ask to fly from thee;
I lay in dust life’s glory dead,
And from the ground there blossoms red
Life that shall endless be.

Matheson describes the circumstances of his writing thus:

"My hymn was composed in the manse of Innellan on the evening of 6th June 1882. I was at that time alone. It was the day of my sister's marriage, and the rest of the family were staying over night in Glasgow. Something had happened to me, which was known only to myself, and which caused me the most severe mental suffering. The hymn was the fruit of that suffering. It was the quickest bit of work I ever did in my life. I had the impression rather of having it dictated to me by some inward voice than of working it out myself. I am quite sure that the whole work was completed in five minutes, and equally sure that it never received at my hands any retouching or correction. The Hymnal Committee of the Church of Scotland desired the change of one word. I had written originally 'I climbed the rainbow in the rain.' They objected to the word 'climb' and I put 'trace.'"

Next time, God willing, we shall have more to say about Matheson the hymn-writer.

"I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain" George Matheson, II.

As we saw last time, George Matheson the future hymn-writer was brought up in a godly Church of Scotland household. A 'bonnie lad', as the Scots put it, it was discovered at the age of eighteen months that there was something wrong with his eyes. A specialist was consulted, and the specialist told the parents that he could do nothing. He reassured them that there was nothing seriously wrong with the lad's eyes, and there was no reason why he should not see perfectly all the years of his life. Other specialists, when second opinions were sought, agreed.
But they were sadly mistaken in their diagnoses. Slowly, but inexorably, George Matheson's eyesight gave way. During his schooldays he was, by the grace of God, able to see well enough to read, though finally only with the help of very powerful glasses and large-type books. But by the time he enterede university George Matheson was completely dependent on others to read aloud to him.
George Matheson was never totally blind, but what vision he had was so blurred and distorted as to be of no practical use to him at all. Sometimes, it is recorded by his biographer, Matheson had moments of vision, when he could just make out what was written on the sign-boards of the Glasgow shops. Sometimes he was able to make out some part of the features of those with whom he was conversing - but only for brief moments.
The loss of his eyesight deeply affected Matheson. Indeed, it almost overwhelmed him. As a boy he had been able to join in the games of others, but blind he felt separated from the rest of mankind, overcome by a terrible catastrophe. Friends said that the echoes of that catastrophe could be heard in his preaching on the book of Job. The matter of suffering in the world was no mere academic problem to him, it was a great fact of his life.

Next time, God willing, we shall observe Matheson's university life.

"I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain" George Matheson, X.

Following a terrible crisis of faith shortly after his ordination, George Matheson's preaching changed radically. Instead of the old Calvinism of his forefathers, Matheson preached a 'gospel' modified by Germn philosophy. Instead of seeing the Old Testament Judaism as a unique revelation of God, he came to regard all religions as preparing for the Gospel. This was quite common in the wake of Darwinian teaching on evolution.

Matheson encouraged others to study German theology, publishing a book in 1874 called Aids to the Study of German Theology. He presented the German theology as a good thing, and he found many sympathetic readers not only in the Church of scotland but in the Free and United Presbyterian churches. Matheson's next important book was his The Growth of the Spirit of Christianity, which presented a liberal idea of a developing religion that had only recently become 'adult'. Matheson certainly presented his opinions, but critics noted that there was really very little connection between the facts of history and Matheson's interpretation of them at times.

Yet it seems George Matheson, in the deep study of erman philosophy, did not completely abandon believing. He remained convinced of immortality, of the resurrection, and of the deity of Christ in the strict sense. Some of his poetry is simply sublime; some I cannot read because it is so awful in what it presents.

Will there be a next time? God willing, there shall be, but this brief series on George Matheson is cut off in its prime, maybe never to be finished.

"I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain" George Matheson, VII.

George Matheson's biographer gives a description of a summer morning service at Innellan during Matheson's ministry. We are to imagine a great crowd converging on the little kirk that stood on the crown of the hill. Once the congregation were seated George Matheson, arrayed in preaching gown and bands, emerged from the vestry door, which was located immediately behind the pulpit. There would already be an open Bible in the pulpit in front of the minister, something that was for the benefit of the congregation rather than the preacher.
He would open the service by giving out the first Psalm. After the Psalm was sung, he would pray. The prayer was a mix of liturgical fragments selected from prayer-books and extempore expressions.
When he gave out Bible passages, Matheson looked down at the open Bible on his book-board. Not that he could see it, of course, but it meant that his listeners were not distracted by reflecting on the preacher's blindness. Like many blind people, Matheson had a fantastic memory - he memorised practically the whole service.
The sermon was, as was normal in Scottish Presbyterianism, was the crowning glory of the service. Seldon much longer than twenty minutes, it was beautifully constructed, and usually held the congregation from beginning to end. Unsually it was a three-point sermon, followed by a brief application of the exsposition of the text.

George Matheson rapidly became known as 'Matheson of Innellan', and his popularity further increased the holiday resort's income! Not only that, the local people valued his preaching and his pastoral care for them. God willing, next time we shall look at some more aspects of Matheson's Innellan ministry.

'I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain'. George Matheson -XXIII

George Matheson had retired from the pastorate, but not from the ministry. He remained deeply interested in literary ministry, and in his retirement he wrote his two-volume work Studies in the Portait of Christ. It was extremely popular, perhaps his most popular book. It combined the devotional tone of his small devotional volumes with the depth of thought of his more scholarly writings.

Nor was his voice silent in the church for, he continued to preach as a visiting preacher in many churches. He spoke to students in the theological colleges of all the major Presbyterian churches of Scotland. He spoke in England at many churches, including Brunwick Chapel, Leeds, where he gave the annual sermon for the Wesleyan Missionary Society. Even though it was a miserable day with driving rain, people came from all parts to hear the sermon. We hope that they also made a good contribution to the missionary funds! For although he was a decided Church of Scotland man, and had no time at all for disestablishment, Dr. Matheson was in no sense a partisan or secatrian spirit. Indeed, there was no church in which he preached more often in his retirement than Free St. George's church in Edinburgh (pictured). He and Alexander Whyte of Free St. George's were close friends, alike in many ways. Whyte never heard Matheson preach - he himself was in too much demand as a preacher, and he asked Matheson to preach in his absence - but he found that his congregation appreciated the ministry of the blind preacher.

In 1902 he published Representative men of the Bible, which was also greeted with acclaim. It ran to three volumes, two on the Old Testament and one on the New. His pen was as productive as ever. But the end was coming. His last sermon was delivered in Morningside Church, Edinburgh, on 14th Febryary 1904. He was obviously infirm, and the sermon cost him a great deal of physical effort. His last public appearance was in November of that year, when he offered a prayer in the annual Life Boat service. He was writing a book on Representative Women on the Bible, but that was destined to see the light only after his death.

George Matheson's death was sudden and unexpected. August 27th 1906 was a normal day, reading, writing, and an afternoon drive. He went to bed at his usual time, bidding his sister goodnight as he normally did. At 1.30 in the morning she was woken by a moan she recognised as from her bother. Rushing downstairs, she found he could not speak. But he was smiling, he knew the end of his earthly life had come, and he was going to his Father's house. He died there, his face illuminated with joy.

George Matheson's death shocked everyone. Appreciations came in almost from every corner of the globe. He was buried in the family vault in the Glasgow Necropolis on Saturday 1st September The funeral service was held in the cathedral. Through his great hymn O Love that Wilt not Let me go, his name will be remembered for as long as hymns are sung in English. He was a man like us, and it is that fact that has ensured the survival of this great hymn.

'I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain'. George Matheson -XXII

George Matheson's writings, especially his various volumes of meditations, gave many the impression that the blind minister was something of a recluse. In fact nothing could be further from the truth. He was a standing rebuke to the idea that it is really possible to be 'too heavenly minded to be any earthly use'. He was a man who brought the same devotion that filled those little books into daily life as a pastor, moving among men and women in the slums, sharing their joys and sorrows. It is therefore quite remarkable that his literary output during the years at St. Bernard's was not diminished from what it had been during the Innellan years. Part of the reason for that was that he reduced the range of what he wrote. His contributions to magazines in the St. Bernard's years were more Biblically-based. He remained, at least in the early years of his time in Edinburgh, a theistic evolutionist, working out ways in which a Christian could also go part of the way with Darwin. A book entitled The Psalmist and the Scientist was the tangible result of this. Another significant book was Landmarks of New Testament Morality, in this volume Matheson attempted to set out the morality of the New Testament, dealing with such subjects as 'Motives of Christian Morality' and 'The Christian View of Sin'. In 1890 he published a volume of poetry, Sacred Songs, and about the same time he published what some thought of as his greatest book, The Spiritual Development of St. Paul. The Apostle to the Gentiles has had a great fascination to many of the greatest Christian teachers, from Augustine to Luther to Bunyan to Alexander Whyte - and to George Matheson. The two men had much in common, like Paul, Matheson had a 'thorn in the flesh', and if the speculations of some scholars are correct, in the same part of the flash as well, namely the eyes. They were both men who had been gifted with a great deal of natural ability, and had been brought to consecrate that ability to the service of Christ. Neither man allowed the 'thorn in the flesh' to make him ineffective. In his book Matheson took the opinion that Paul's 'Thorn in the flesh' was a complaint of the eyes. Paul, then, became to him an example of a man who had overcome the very infirmity that he struggled with himself. The fact that Paul 'besought the Lord thrice' to remove the thorn in the flesh seems to have touched something in Matheson. He had himself asked for God to cure his blindness, and the answer had been 'no'. As for the 'Development' of Paul, Matheson did not mean that in an evolutionary way. Quite the reverse, in fact he emphasised what Paul himself does, that the origin of Paul's religious life was from above, not below, and it was supernatural, not natural - the reverse of the position held by naturalistic evolution. It had been by the grace of God that Paul had 'developed', not because of something in Paul. Matheson saw Paul as being made 'perfect through suffering'. Here is the great paradox of Christianity, 'When I am weak, then I am strong':

Make me a captive, Lord, and then I shall be free.
Force me to render up my sword, and I shall conqueror be.
I sink in life’s alarms when by myself I stand;
Imprison me within Thine arms, and strong shall be my hand.

My heart is weak and poor until it master find;
It has no spring of action sure, it varies with the wind.
It cannot freely move till Thou has wrought its chain;
Enslave it with Thy matchless love, and deathless it shall reign.

My power is faint and low till I have learned to serve;
It lacks the needed fire to glow, it lacks the breeze to nerve.
It cannot drive the world until itself be driven;
Its flag can only be unfurled when Thou shalt breathe from heaven.

My will is not my own till Thou hast made it Thine;
If it would reach a monarch’s throne, it must its crown resign.
It only stands unbent amid the clashing strife,
When on Thy bosom it has leant, and found in Thee its life.

God willing, we shall continue with Matheson next time.

'I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain'. George Matheson -XXV

After eleven years at St. Bernard's, Edinburgh, George Matheson felt that his strength was diminished to the point that he could no longer bear the burden of the ministry. He had been a minister of the Church of Scotland for thirty years, and now he felt the time had come for him to lay down the parish ministry for the ministry of the pen.

All preachers are influenced by others, some are just more conscious of it than others. One of the great influences on Matheson, particularly in his Edinburgh ministry, was Dr. Joseph Parker of the City Temple, London (illustrated). When arker died unexpectedly in 1902, Dr. Matheson wrote a tribute for The British Weekly, which was then the pre-eminent nonconformist newspaper. Surely this is a wonderful example of Christian unity, the Church of Scotland minister writing a tribute to a Congregational pastor who had attacked the Church of Scotland in the past. Parker's preaching showed Matheson that preaching could be less formal, and still effective. Reading Parker today, he seems incredibly Victorian, but of course we have to remember that he was a Victorian, preaching to Victorians! Matheson did not copy Parker, it is perhaps rather that Parker's preaching gave him the confidence to be himself in the pulpit.

Matheson's work at St. Bernard's was extraordinary. Like Spurgeon, he was a pastor and a preacher, and yet he was also a writer. And like Spurgeon, he was worn out by the work. Unlike Spurgeon, he had never had a strang constitution, and so in 1896 he wrote to the Session Clerk of St. Bernard's to resign the pastorate. The result was a surpise to no-one but Matheson - the congregation pleaded with him to stay. In January 1897 he withdrew his resignation and instead applied to the Presbytery for a colleague and successor. The colleague was to take over much of the work, leaving Matheson to devote himself to preaching and writing. The Rev. J. J. Drummond of Jedburgh was elected and appointed. He worked well with Matheson, and the ministry was blessed to both men. But in March 1899 Matheson wrote again to resign with effect from the end of July that year. His body could no longer take the strain, and Mr. Drummond became the full minister at St. Bernard's. Thus Matheson achieved a smooth transition of ministry.

He was sorely missed, but he had made his decision. In November 1899 there was a special farewell meeting for Dr. Matheson. He was loved as a pastor, and that is surely a good sign. The man who had found it hard to get a church because there were fears that his blindness would hamper his work as a pastor had proved to be one of the best pastors of his age.

God willing, next time we shall look at Dr. Matheson's retirement.

'I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain'. George Matheson -XI

More than two years ago, we left George Matheson in the grip of German 'Higher Criticism' and Hegelian dialectic. Following a crisis of faith, he fled to Hegel's philosophy as a support. It was to prove a rotten one, in the end. He applied Hegel's dialectic of thesis, antithesis and thesis to the history of the Church in a book entitled The Growth of the Spirit of Christianity. It was well received in a world where Hegel was in vogue, but it missed the true history of Christianity, merging everything in an idea of 'progress' that was also fashionable, but wrong. He presented Christianity as subject the the 'law of evolution'. Again, it was fashionable, but it is simply not Biblical, nor is it indeed historical. For we must remember that the 'law of evolution' imagined by the Victorians was one of ever-continued ascent, as expressed in the title of Henry Drummond's book The Ascent of Man.

The greatest, and the most just, criticism of the book was that Matheson had not tested the theory of Hegel's applicability to Christianity, he had assumed it. He had not tried to adapt the theory to the facts, but the facts to the theory. This is a constant criticism of Hegelians, and indeed of Hegel himself. If the facts do not fit the theory - so much for the facts! The present author, as one with a scientific training, is horrified by such a procedure, and so we all should be! Apologists for Hegel tell us that it is surely better to interpret the facts in light of some principle than to leave them as so many data without interpretation, and we would agree. But we would add that a theory that cannot account for the facts is a bad theory, and should be modified or discarded. Our principle is the Biblical one of the providence of the creator God who has revealed himself in the pages of Scripture. It is perhaps this fact-bending Hegelianism that made this George Matheson's least popular book.

Innellan, Matheson's parish, was, like Broughty Ferry, which was very much the Free Church equivalent parish, a resort of the wealthy. Thus it was never without its intellectuals, and Matheson gathered a band of intelligent men around himself there. They would discuss theological and philosophical topics at the Manse. For their part, the villagers were glad to have a famous and rising minister, and ddid not mind in the least that he was almost completely blind. In 1879 he was awarded the degree of Doctor of Divinity by the University of Edinburgh. He was presented by the brilliant and conservative Professor Charteris (pronounced 'Charters', and no relation to the Saint author, who assumed 'Charteris' as a pen-name).

In 1880 he received a call to the Crown Court Church in London. God willing, next time we shall see how George Matheson responded.

'I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain'. George Matheson -XVI

George Matheson said that his hymn 'O Love that Wilt not let me Go' would never have become as popular as it did without the tune 'St. Margaret' that was written for it by Dr, Pearce. But there is more to it than that. The hymn speaks to all of us as Christians. We all suffer, we all have our disappointments, and indeed we all find that we are in the rain and have only the promise of God that 'Morn willl tearless be'. Many a suffering Christian has been comforted, as we have by some of the Psalms, that we are not alone in how we feel in trouble. In life and in death 'O Love that Wilt not Let me Go' has been a minister of God. We who have doubted as Matheson, who have suffered in body, mind and soul, have found in Gorge Matheson a fellow-sufferer, and he has made us rejoice in the God who painted the rainbow as a pledge of His faithfulness. Great hymns belong to the whole Church, and this hymn has been prized the world over. It is not a silly, sentimental ditty, but a hymn of faith in suffering.

George Mathson had been relatively happy at Innellan for fifteen years. The same suffering that gave rise to the hymn made him a sympathetic pastor who was always helpful to his suffering people, and who shared in sorrow and in joy with them. Christ, we read in Hebrews, was 'made perfect though suffering' in His place as our High Priest and the 'Captain of our salvation'. He is the perfect pastor, and if He had to suffer to fit Him for the work, how much more will His servants? This is a huge challenge to us - or it ought to be. After fifteen years there, in the summer of 1883, George Matheson was summoned to his Parish Church to receive a gift of love from his congregation. Under him ministry the church had gone from being a chapel of ease to a Parish Church, and the people had been helped and comforted. A special serice was held in which the congregation expressed their love for their minister, and their gratefulness for all that they had received from his hands. Those who labour in the Word and in doctrine are worthy of honour for the work' sake. Most will never be known as Matheson was, but all should be the subject of heart-felt thanks to God.

Next time, God willing, we shall see Matheson wrestling with the challenge of Scientific Naturalism.

"I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain" George Matheson, IX.

It would be a good thing if this could be as arcadian a post as the last few, but it will not be. Even in such an idyllic place as Innellan the 19th Century caught up with George Matheson. This was the period of the Victorian Crisis of faith, and while men like Charles Haddon Spurgeon and J.K. Popham might be immune Matheson, trained in a theological institution where the latest philosophic speculation, direct from Germany, were taught, was not. Let Matheson tell the story:

"At one time, with a great thrill of horror, I found myself an absolute atheist. After being ordained at Innellan, I believed nothing; neither God nor immortality. I tendered my resignation to the Presbytery, but to their honour they would not accept it, even though a Highland Presbytery. They said I was a young man, and would change. I have changed. Without hypocrisy I preach all the old doctrines and use all the old forms, but with deeper meaning. My theological sympathies are in favour of breadth, but not negation. It is a great mistake to suppose that there is any advantage, or disadvantage, in being broad or narrow, long or short, high or low. The question is, what is it that is broad? Is it broadcloth or broad shoulders? Therefore I do not value an opinion simply because it is a negative opinion, and different from use or wont. I am as broad as can be, but it is a broad positive."

What is 'a broad positive?' we may well ask. The answer is that it means George Matheson did not discard the theology of his forefathers, at least, he did not deny that it was true. However, he interpreted it through a framework of German philosophy. He loved to listen to men like Pfleiderer and Lichtenburg being read. In short, Matheson's 'broad positive' meant abandoning the old Calvinism of Presbyterian Scotland in favour of the rationalising philosophy of liberal Lutheranism.

Next time, God willing, we shall see what the effect of this theological change in Matheson was.

"I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain" George Matheson, VIII.

The people of Innellan came to love their blind pastor George Matheson, so much so, in fact, that when he was unwell and other men preached in his place, very few of the villagers would go along to hear the substitute! (the present author would condemn such a practice. We come to worship the Lord, not to listen to one servant or other).
The fact that Matheson was ministering in a village where the main industry was hospitality ensured that his name spread far and wide. People started to invite him to take special services in their various churches, hoping that the collection would be larger after a sermon by the pastor of Innellan.
But Matheson was not merely a preacher. He was a pastor, and he did his very best to be one. He visited the villagers, and he took particular care to visit those in sickness and in distress. During the winter months, when Innellan was rather a dull place, Matheson joined in with the various schemes of the populace to liven up the place, taking part in social events, giving lectures, and trying to raise the intellectual tone of the village.
George Matheson was only at Innellan for a few years before moves were taken to build a manse for him and to erect the charge into a full parish. This required some three thousand pounds to be collected - it was done by the end of 1873. A few years later the church had a spire added.
Matheson also had to lead a kirk-session, and that he led with great tact and diplomacy. He seemed to be a model reformed pastor. But changes were afoot in Innellan, and what those changes were we shall, God willing, see next time.

'I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain'. George Matheson -XVII

One of the two important anniversaries this year is that of Charles Darwin, born in 1809. Darwin's book The Origin of Species, although it can be argued that anyone who had written such a book at the time Darwin did would have had the same effect (and someone else almost pipped Darwin to the post), was incredibly influential in Victorian Britain, initial rejection turning quickly to acceptance in practically every circle. It met a society where 'development' was one of the primary categories of thought, and Matheson was a part of that society. In an incredibly short period of time Britain had gone from an agrarian to an industrial society, and so the idea of Development was seen as a law of society.

Today Darwinists like Richard Dawkins argue that religion is merely a product of evolution as if this were some new and shocking theory. In fact it has been around almost since Darwin, and George Matheson had to grapple with it. Evolution, in its Darwinian form, is naturalistic and atheistic. Charles Hodge of Princeton Theological Seminary answered the question 'What is Darwinism?' with "it is atheism." The evolutionary hypothesis was modified by others so as to allow for God, and even the Christian God, but still the aspect of darwin that most often met the Victorian was Atheistic, a theory that left man the prisoner of inviolable and purely naturalistic laws. Matheson was not one to ignore important questions, and as he read Darwin and Herbert Spencer a terrible thought came into his mind: What if religion was merely the result of some natural instinct, and all religion just an empty dream?

There have been many and varied responses to the Darwinian theory of evolution in the Church over the years. Some have re-shaped the whole of Chritian theology according to the teaching of Darwin, others have rejected it outright. I myself belong to the latter school. As some Victorians correctly observed, evolution acn only work with what is there. The science of genetics teaches us that acquired characteristics, however advantageous, cannot be passed on, and that natural selection, therefore, cannot produce any new forms, but in fact eliminates some of the old forms! This Darwin did not know, and nor did Matheson.

In the five years that followed his Baird Lecture, Matheson made a study of the theory of evolution, especially in its bearings on religion. In 1883 he published an article in the Scottish Review entitled 'Angnoticism'. This, of course, is that form of atheism that argues that, while we cannot say that God does not exist, we also cannot say that He does. The notorious 'atheist bus' advert displays a strong form of agnosticism, while we cannot certainly know that no God exists, we have no good reason to say that one does. The term was coined by certain Darwinists who, in their zeal for naturalism, rejected all supernaturalism. Matheson profoundly disagreed with them. Evolution, he argued, even if it can be shown to be true (let us recall that this was the era of the 'concessive apologetic' as championed by Alexander Balmain Bruce), does not explain Jesus of Nazareth. Here is a man who cannot be explained by mental or physical evolution. Without using the word, he argues that naturalism is a presupposition, not a result of scientific enquiry. Matheson was not completely orthodox. Like most Victorians, he granted too much to the supposed results of impartial science, but he found at this point in his life that evolution could not explain, much less explain away, Jesus of Nazareth.

This would be a question that would engage Matheson for many more years, and the result would be startling.

God willing, next time we shall deal with Matheson's final period at Innellan.

'I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain'. George Matheson -XII

Crown Court Church of Scotland, Covent Garden, London, is the oldest Church of Scotland congregation in the English capital. Its most famous minister was Rev. John Cumming (1832-79), who was famous (perhaps infamous) for his sermons on the Book of Revelation and other prophetic passages of the Bible. His death in 1879 left the church anxious to acquire a similarly noted and gifted pastor. So they approached George Matheson, urging on him the advantages of a pastorate in the capital of the British Empire. It would be quite a change from Innellan. The whole congregation in London made the call, but Matheson declined it. it was said that one of the reasons for this was that Matheson wanted freedom to exchange pulpits with other London ministers of other denominations, and the Church at Crown Court (building pictured) had not agreed to this condition. But there were other reasons as well. Away in his remote seaside parish, Matheson could study in quiet. He was still unsure of exactly what he believed, and on one occasion, after he had given a sermon on misssions, he was urged to go to India, only to answer that he was afraid that he would himself be converted to Hiduism if he went! He would remain in Innellan for another six years before being transferred to another capital city.

So Matheson's name was to be kept before the public in articles in magazines such as The Expositor, rather than in a metropolitan pulpit. His study at Innellan became almost a factory of articles, and his secretaries, necessary since Matheson had to dictate his works, worked hard. Some of his work in the period was the sort of 'apologetics' that was produced by Hegelians, reductionist attempts to make the Bible square with Hegel and other late Victorian philosophers. Practically he put the Philosophers above the Bible, and not the other way around.

Matheson was not an anti-supernaturalist at any time. He clung to the idea of immortality, and looked forward to the day that he would see 'the King in His Glory', and would be blind no longer. It was this that would allow him, as he matured and regained faith, to come back to the Bible in the end.

In 1880 he was chosen to give the Baird Lecture for 1881. God willing, next time we shall deal with this and see how he began to write on other matters.

'I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain'. George Matheson -XV

It may come as a surprise to those familiar with 'O Love the Wilt Not Let me Go' that George Matheson never took himself seriously as a hymn-writer. At least one of his hymns, namely this most famous, appears in the majority of modern hymnals, and his hymn 'Make me a Captive, Lord' has also found wide acceptance. But Matheson wrote more than these two hymns that have found their place in the worship of the Church. He wrote (or rather dictated, being blind) poetry as a sort of intellectual diversion. A volume of his poems, Sacred Songs, was published in 1904, and quickly ran to a third edition. Of course they are of uneven quality, even the best hymn-writers are not always at their best, and Matheson is not one of that first rank, although his two great hymns are. The over 170 pages of Sacred Songs contain poems on subjects from 'Life in Death' to 'The Nativity'. What is striking, but not really surprising, about the book is how many of the poems in it are suited to the more melancholy moods of the Christian. The impression that the book leaves is that we are reading the thoughts of a man who knew what it was to suffer physically, mentally and spiritually. Few of them are actually suited to public worship, as Matheson did not write them with it in mind, but they are all from the heart.

'Patmos'
There is a spot beside the sea
Where I often long to go,
For there my God first met with me
When the sands of life were low.
I have had since more joy than pain,
And I've basked in fortune's smile;
But I never ceased to love the rain
That fell in Patmos' Isle.

It was indeed a tearful time
For my sun had set too soon;
The winter fell upon my prime
And the snows were thick in June;
And I thought my Father's face to be
Remote by many a mile,
In a place where there was no more sea
Unlike to Patmos Isle.

But in the deepest winter night
In the darkest nightly hour,
There came a gleam of golden light
Unknown to the summer flower.
The paths of God that brighter days
Had not stayed to reconcile
Were blended fast in rainbow blaze
Above lone Patmos isle.

I saw the clouds that earth reveals
Made chariots of the King;
The vials of wrath and judgement seals
Were the shadows of love's wing;
And when I knew by clouds he came,
I was glad to rest awhile
In the dark wherein was wrapt the flame
Of glorious Patmos isle.

And now the very dust of life
To my soul becomes most dear,
For by the path of human strife
Is His way emerging clear;
And when I see His track effaced,
Still my heart shall not resile,
Since the milestones of His march are traced
Through struggling Patmos Isle.

The use of the Apostle's imagery is not of course strictly in accordance with the Revelation, but that is not the point. The point is that God works through our sufferings and our trials. It is the individual and the experimental that predominates in Matheson's poetry. The image of the rainbow is one that recurs often, as in his most famous hymn, and as in the above 'Patmos', which was selected at random. It is the symbol of God's promise to him, and it is also a symbol of diversity in unity, as a description of God and His ways.

God willing, we shall continue our look at Dr. Matheson's poetry next time.

'I Climb the Rainbow Through the Rain'. George Matheson -XIX

George Matheson had at first found it difficult to obtain a pastorate in the Church of Scotland because of his blindness. Now, after almost twenty years of ministry at Innellan, that prejudice was counter-acted by his undoubted greatness in the ministry, of which his being asked to preach before the Queen was just a sign. The people at Innellan were not insensible of this fact, and there were fears that their minister, even though he seemed quite happy among them, would leave them, being called away to another church.

So it was to prove. In 1886 a call came for him to St. Bernard's Church in Edinburgh. Not that the parish chose him, but that the Presbytery, into whose hands the responsibility of calling a minister had fallen when the congregation failed to call one within the six months required by the law of the Church, put his name forward. Dr. Currie, a member of the Presbytery, had heard Matheson preach, and felt that the minister of Innellan would be a greater force if he was translated to the capital.

Matheson's name was brought before the St. Bernard's congregation, and the result was a unanimous call. It was almost unheard-of for a minister to refuse such a call, and despite the ties that bound him to his seaside parish, Matheson accepted. It was a difficult decision, but the Chuch had spoken, and Matheson determined to obey. On the13th of April Matheson and his sister were summonned to the Churh at Innellan and presented with parting-gifts. He made his way to Edinburgh, and on 12th May 1886 he was inducted to the charge of St. Bernard's Edinburgh. He was to remain at St. Bernard's for thirteen years, pastor of one of the largest congregations in the city of Edinburgh, the capital of the Kingdom of Scotland.

The new pastor of St. Bernard's was at the height of his powers, physically well, his mental powers at their peak. He had mastered as much ancient and modern thought as he could, and he had met the challenges to Faith and come out still believing. The church was full to overflowing under his ministry, and full of people of all sorts, from university professors to labourers. Students faced by the intellectual challenges of the latter part of the Victorian age came to him to hear that faith and intellect were not opposed, men who had even ceased to believe in God came to him, and through his ministry they were brought to worship that God in whom they had lost faith. The frankness and flashes of humour in his preaching were entirely his, and attracted men for whom frankness was the greatest of virtues. Paradoxically, his ability to paint word-pictures was another of his great skills, although he was blind, he could describe things seen with such vividness as to almost bring them before the eyes of his congregation. His prayers were even more impressive, not artificial, but full of the reality of a Christian life, and a knowledge of God.

And, God willing, next time we shall continue with the Edinburgh Ministry.