Friday, February 18, 2011
Bearing His Sacred Reproach
Go on, dear Sir, go on, and follow your glorious Master without the camp, bearing his sacred reproach. Never fear the scourge of the tongue, or the threatenings that are daily breathed out against the Lord and against his Christ. Suffer we must, I believe, and that great things. Our Lord, by his providence, begins to shew it. Ere long, perhaps, we may sing in a prison, and have our feet set fast in the stocks. But faith in Jesus turns a prison into a palace, and makes a bed of flames become a bed of down. Let us be faithful today and our Lord will support us tomorrow.
Letters of George Whitefield: For the Period 1734-1742, The Banner of Truth Trust, 1976, reprinted from The Works of George Whitefield, 1771, p. 193.