Mingling Thanksgiving and Mourning

A portion of a letter by Rev. Benjamin Morgan Palmer, esteemed professor at Columbia Seminary, South Carolina, and later pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of New Orleans, to a friend suffering grief because of the death of his father. This encouraging letter of sympathy was written October 9, 1856.

It would be superfluous to exhort any of you to patience and submission, for I doubt not you have already united in saying, 'The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken away; blessed be the name of the Lord.' While nature will have her pangs and wring her tribute of tears and grief, you have still so many materials of praise and song that you must mingle thanksgiving and mourning. His pure life, his unstained character, his long devotion to his Master's cause and Church, his pious counsels, and his fervent prayers, his faith and patience and hope—all meeting together in his dying moments; all these will be objects of memory to stay your sorrow and sustain you from despondency and gloom. If, too, the Church below has lost, the Church above has gained. It is only a transfer from one to the other, and the Church is not a loser, though we may miss him much.

The Life and Letters of Benjamin Morgan Palmer, by Thomas Cary Johnson, first published in 1906, printed by the Banner of Truth Trust, 1987, p. 167.

Darkness and Glory

A portion of a letter by Benjamin Morgan Palmer, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of New Orleans, to a dear friend, Mrs. Edgeworth (Sallie) Bird. There was sadness in Palmer's home because his wife's mother had recently passed away. He said, "I am thankful there is no bitterness in our grief—great soreness, but no repining." He then portrayed in vivid words the benefit of trials. The letter was written December 15, 1888.

As for myself, I perceive as I never knew before—with the intellect perhaps, but not so vividly through the affections—that God's largest, richest, sweetest revelations of Himself come through clouds and darkness which shut out the earth. It was when Moses was taken into the cloud from which shot devouring flame, that he spake with God face to face. And was it not through the appalling darkness which overhung Calvary, that His saving love cut its way down to earth and redeemed our guilty race? So, He has brought down His thick cloud which darkened our home, covering me in it that I might be alone with Him as never before, and behold His glory.

The Life and Letters of Benjamin Morgan Palmer, by Thomas Cary Johnson, Banner of Truth, p. 507.

Under God All Depends on the Mother

A selection from a letter by Rev. Benjamin Morgan Palmer to his daughter Anna, who recently had given birth to a son. He wrote to comfort her for she has lost her first child, a daughter, at birth. He also wrote to challenge her to be a dedicated mother. The letter was written January 4, 1869.

This time it is a son! What a solemn responsibilities cluster around that word! This boy-babe is after a while to be a man. Can you tell what a vast intellect may be slumbering within that little head? Who knows but that the fate of an empire may be wrapped in the folds of his career? Those little hands may wield the destiny of this great Republic—and that tiny voice may sway the councils of a nation; who knows! That little heart, it may be a volcano of passions, to be belched forth in smoke and fire upon a devastated earth—or it may be the well-spring of a mighty stream of beneficence to refresh and fertilize the world. Which shall it be? Do not stagger, nor be affrighted, when I answer that under God all depends upon the mother.

A fearful trust is reposed in you, my daughter, in this boy’s birth; for of a truth, in time and in the great hereafter, he will be just what you shall make him. It is too late to shrink back in terror. He is yours; and the great God, who gave him to you, says, ‘Take this child and nurse it for me, and I will give thee thy wages’ [Exodus 2:9]. Mark the terms of the contract, for therein lies the trust, and the comfort too. ‘Nurse it for me’—that is the trust; ‘and I will give thee thy wages’—this is the assurance. Both are bound together. If you nurse it for God, you shave have ample recompense…

The Life and Letters of Benjamin Morgan Palmer, by Thomas Cary Johnson, Banner of Truth, p. 383.

Little Longer to Remain Below

A selection from a letter by Benjamin Morgan Palmer to a lifelong friend in Maryland. Mr. Palmer was sick and thought he was soon the leave his earthly tabernacle and enter the presence of the Lord. He would live another 13 years but when he wrote this letter on February 20, 1889, he believed his earthly sojourn would soon be over. The words are fitting for all believers for our death may be nearer than we know.

We have little longer to remain below; soon we are to be caught up into the splendor of our Lord’s own presence. Let us carry up with us into that supreme glory the remembrance of a communion with our heavenly Father, such as we have never known before; leaving the light of our testimony for Christ, which shall help those who remain after us to find the way to the bright heaven which is our home forever.

The Life and Letters of Benjamin Morgan Palmer, by Thomas Cary Johnson, first published in 1906, reprinted by The Banner of Truth Trust, 1987, p. 577.

Think What a Wicked Heart You Have

A selection from a letter by Rev. Benjamin Morgan Palmer to his oldest daughter, Sarah Francis, when she was 12 years old. He wanted her to have a good education but he also wanted to see her come to faith in Christ. The letter was written on June 29, 1857:

How often and fervently I pray that God would give you a new heart. Do you remember two years ago this very month when you were so ill, how alarmed you were; how you talked with me, and told me you were afraid to die because you felt that you were not ready? I hoped when you got well, that you would remember all this; and that you would be so grateful to God for sparing your life, as to give him your heart at once. But I was disappointed—you got well, and then forgot all these solemn things. I do not know how much you think about your soul, and whether you pray fervently for a new heart. But I am afraid you do not; and you are now two years older, and know more than you did then… Dear, dear Fanny, will you not think about these things—think what a wicked heart you have—that unless it is changed, you cannot go to heaven—that you may die any moment, and be lost forever? Think, too, how ready Christ is to save you, if you will only go to him—and then delay not—go at once to him, my daughter, and be saved through his grace.

The Life and Letters of Benjamin Morgan Palmer, by Thomas Cary Johnson, first published in 1906, published by the Banner of Truth Trust in 1987, pp. 226-27.

What Death Teaches Us

A selection from a letter by Benjamin Morgan Palmer to Sallie Baxter Bird, speaking of the death of his daughter, Marion Louisa, February 19, 1873:

But what does it [death] teach—what great lesson dos our loving Father mean us to gather up and treasure, in this apparent, and unspeakably painful, harshness to us and to her? I will tell you the conviction, which the Holy Spirit seems to be impressing more and more upon my own heart. I have never had before such an overwhelming sense of the testimonial character of human suffering, and of the awful holiness of God as the particular fact to which the witness is borne. Surely it is right—nay, it is supremely right—that God should exhibit, in the very bosom of His grace, His dreadful displeasure against sin. You perceive that I go behind all secondary causes for the origin of suffering. However it may be brought about through fixed and necessary laws, the moral ground of it is to be found in the fact that we are sinners. The curse—the curse—that terrible word which is written as the superscription over a doomed world—rests upon us, and we suffer. When God, therefore, interposes with grace, and turns this curse into discipline, giving us in sorrow and anguish, not the punishment, but the correction of our sin, He is thereby proclaiming His dreadful holiness. He does it, in those whom most conspicuously He saves, that the world may understand that He saves as a holy God. Are we no in danger, while contemplating His infinite compassion and love, or lowering our views?

The Life and Letters of Benjamin Morgan Palmer, by Thomas Cary Johnson, Banner of Truth, p. 397-98.