25. George Matheson (1842–1906)
Most people know two things about George Matheson: he was blind, and he wrote “O Love That Will Not Let Me Go.” Some people still believe the myth that he wrote the hymn after his sweetheart broke their engagement because he was going blind. Matheson began to go blind at age eighteen months, and he was never engaged. “I have never been in love,” he once told his friend M’Kenzie Bell.
Matheson told about the experience of composing the hymn: “It came to me spontaneously, without conscious effort; and I have never been able to gain once more the same fervor in verse.” He admitted a crisis had been involved, but he did not say what it was:
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 overnight 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.1
I believe Matheson made far greater contributions to the cause of Christ than his hymn, as beautiful as that is. His courage and accomplishment are a tremendous inspiration to anyone in the ministry who has to fight a handicap.
George Matheson was born in Glasgow on March 27, 1842. His eyesight began to fail, but he managed to complete his basic schooling wearing very strong glasses. By the time he was eighteen, however, he had to have assistance. His two sisters were his greatest helpers, even learning foreign languages to tutor him. At the University of Glasgow he devoted five years to earning his MA and another four years to an MDiv. He won honors, particularly in debate and public speaking, and he was popular. At one point he wanted to train for a legal career, but the call of Christ prevailed. On June 13, 1866, he was licensed by the presbytery; six months later he was named assistant to John Ross MacDuff at Sandyford Church. MacDuff was a devotional preacher whose books sold in the millions. Influenced by MacDuff, Matheson also became a very successful devotional writer.
Early in 1868, Matheson was recommended to the church of Innellan in one of Glasgow’s resort areas. When Glasgow citizens relaxed in Innellan during summer months, they wanted to hear good sermons. Matheson’s blindness gave rise to some strong opposition in the church, and they called him by a very narrow majority. Before long, however, the new pastor won the hearts of the people. They ordained him on April 8, 1868, and he remained with them for eighteen years. Not only was he faithful in his preaching, but he also spent time with his people. Like most Scottish pastors, he invested his mornings in the study and his afternoons in visitation and counseling. Imagine what it would be like for a blind man to pastor a church. Matheson did have the capable assistance of his sister and the officers of the church. But only he could gather the material for his messages, plan the Sunday services, and lead the church in worship. He memorized not only his message, but also the hymns and the Scripture readings. And he never missed a word!
Early in his Innellan ministry, Matheson experienced an eclipse of faith that would even have defeated a person without handicaps. “With a great thrill of horror,” he told a friend, “I found myself an absolute atheist! After being ordained at Innellan, I believed nothing; neither God nor immortality.” He shared his problem with his officers and even offered to resign. They wisely counseled him to wait; he was young, and all young ministers (they said) had times of doubt. He waited and won the battle. Without abandoning his traditional faith, he saw deeper meaning in it and felt he could still preach it without losing his integrity.
In 1879 he was granted a DD by Edinburgh University. He also became one of Innellan’s greatest attractions. When he resigned the church in 1886 to go to St. Bernard’s, Edinburgh, he temporarily threatened the economic stability of the resort!
His call to St. Bernard’s Church is an interesting story in itself. One stormy winter’s Sunday, Matheson preached to only a handful of worshipers. He went home rather discouraged because he felt his message had been especially good. A stranger in the Innellan congregation, however, never forgot either the sermon or the preacher. More than seven years later, when St. Bernard’s needed a pastor, this man recommended Matheson. Each occasion of ministry deserves our best. The results may be slow in coming, but they will come.
Matheson was installed as pastor of St. Bernard’s Church on May 12, 1886. He remained with the church for thirteen years. In 1896 he offered his resignation, but it was rejected. He preached his farewell sermon on November 17, 1899, and then retired to write and occasionally to preach. He preached his last sermon on February 14, 1904, at Morningside Church, Edinburgh, a pulpit made famous in recent years by James S. Stewart. While on his annual holiday, George Matheson took sick; he died on November 28, 1906.
His friends claimed that Matheson’s blindness was actually his making. It compelled him to “walk by faith” and live in the highest levels of spiritual meditation. He was not deceived or distracted by the surface things of life. He had the ability to penetrate deeper even though he could not see. A Presbyterian council heard him preach once and responded: “The Council all feel that God has closed your eyes only to open other eyes, which have made you one of the guides of men.”
Beside being a courageous man and an outstanding preacher, Matheson was an exacting scholar and capable writer. His first book was Aids to the Study of German Theology (1874). Preachers with normal vision would hesitate to tackle a subject like that. Three years later he published a two-volume work, Growth of the Spirit of Christianity, attempting to apply Hegelian philosophy to church history. In 1881 he published Natural Elements of Revealed Theology, the Baird lectures for that year. But we most remember Matheson as a devotional writer of amazing perception and poetic ability. My Aspirations (1883) was his first devotional book. He also wrote Moments on the Mount, Words by the Wayside, Leaves for Quiet Hours, Rests by the River, Sidelights from –Patmos, and many others. Any preacher who has ever delivered a series of biographical sermons would appreciate The Representative Men of the Bible (two volumes), The Representative Men of the New Testament, and The Representative Women of the Bible. His Studies of the Portrait of Christ (two volumes) and Spiritual Development of St. Paul are valuable contributions to these areas of Bible study.
So much “devotional writing” today is shallow and sentimental and not at all spiritual. A Bible verse, a paragraph of approved platitudes, an exhortation, and a prayer make up the average “meditation.” The people who manufacture these things need to listen to Matheson’s convictions about devotional writing:
Devotion must be the child of reflection; it may rise on wings, but they must be the wings of thought. . . . It should aim at the marriage of qualities which are commonly supposed to be antagonistic—the insight of the thinker and the fervor of the worshiper. . . . Religious sentiment, if it is worth anything, must be preceded by religious perception.2
Matheson blended the intellectual power of the theologian and the spiritual perception and devotion of the mystic. In the preface to Times of Retirement, he wrote: “It is often said that devotion is a thing of the heart. I do not think it is either mainly or merely so. I hold that all devotion is based upon intellectual conviction.” No wonder his writing is like that “sea of glass, mingled with fire.” His devotional writings are characterized by depth and variety. He laid hold of a great spiritual truth, saw new and exciting possibilities in it, and then applied it in a way that was practical without being preachy. He combined fact and feeling. Each selection generally has two parts: the spiritual thought for the mind and a prayer directed to the heart. George H. Morrison once defined “sentiment” as “feeling without responsibility.” Matheson would have agreed, because he avoided the mawkish or maudlin. He never used religious words to manufacture artificial feeling.
Perhaps the secret of his balanced devotional experience was sincere prayer. One of his faithful parishioners wrote: “Dr. Matheson’s first prayer [in the worship service] was often the finest part of the service. And what a prayer it was! . . . How many of our preachers draw tears from the eyes of the worshipers as they pray?” Another worshiper said: “In that prayer we have been to the mount of worship, and we could go away content even if we heard no more. It was wonderful the way in which that blind preacher talked with God and uttered the aspirations of the people.” Matheson himself admitted: “Prayer never causes me an effort. When I pray, I know I am addressing the Deity, but when I preach, the Devil may be among the congregation.”
In his early days of ministry, Matheson attempted to reconcile evangelical doctrine with the new German theology and the views of evolution. For some he succeeded; but at the same time he failed to minister to the needs of the masses. In his later years he wrote for the common people, and God gave him a wide and useful ministry. That ministry continues in his many books.
Matheson did not try to generate false fire. He warmed one’s heart as the Savior had those of the Emmaus disciples; Matheson opened up the Scriptures and revealed Jesus Christ. He fed himself on the truths of the Word in long hours of meditation and then shared those truths with others. He made truth luminous. He made it exciting. We would do well to rediscover Matheson in this day of much superficial devotional preaching and writing. Some publisher could do us a great service by reprinting his best books, or perhaps an anthology of his best selections. The preacher would be wise to read Matheson and seek to attain that beautiful blending of doctrinal precision and devotional passion. George Matheson was blind, yet through his books he helps us see better.