p. 131 | John Knox's Preaching

International Tract and Missionary Society · Oakland, California · Mar 4, 1886

John Knox's Preaching.

HE began his discourse most commonly with Biblical exposition, and spent a little time in calmly, clearly, and fully explaining the meaning of the passage on which he was engaged. In this portion of his sermon, if we may judge from the published tracts which were apparently founded on pulpit utterances, he was clear, simple, convincing; not making a parade of learning, yet bringing out, withal, the true significance of the sacred text. Then having cleared away all doubt from that, he made it the foundation of a battery, whereon he erected a swivel gun, and with that he swept the whole horizon, firing at every evil which came within his view. Nor were the shots mere random things. They were deliberately aimed, and they commonly did most effective work. No matter who might be the evil-doer, the exposure was sure to be made, and the expostulation, usually ending in denunciation unless the sinner should repent, was sure to follow. Whatever he might do elsewhere, he could neither shut his eyes nor keep back his utterance when he was, as he called it, "in public place." He was "set as a watchman" to the people of Scotland, and he would watch with wakeful vigilance, and give honest warning of everything which he saw wrong; for the wrong with him was always fraught with danger, and the wrongness was enough to evoke his earnest protest.

He used no soft words. He was no maker of polite phrases. He spoke in order to be understood, and therefore he "called a fig a fig, and a spade a spade." He went into the pulpit, not because he had to say something, but because there was something in him which was compelling itself to be said. He spoke because he "could not but" speak. That irrepressibility gave volcanic energy to his manner and fiery force to his words, so that the effects produced by his sermons were not merely superficial. Like those modern missiles which burst in the wounds which they have made, his words exploded within the hearts of those who had received them, and set them on fire with convictions that flamed forth in their conduct. It was apparently impossible for any one to listen to him without being deeply moved, either to antagonism, or to enthusiastic agreement, or—for he could be tender also—to tears.

It may be said indeed that he allowed himself too great liberty in commenting on public men and national affairs; and we readily admit that in ordinary times, and especially in our altered circumstances, it would be unwise in most preachers to use the pulpit precisely as he did. But we have to bear in mind that the crisis through which his country was passing at the time was as much political as religious, and that the pulpit was the only organ at his command.—Taylor's Life of Knox.