THE IMMORTAL TINKER

To have written more books than one has read must be a distinction enjoyed by very few, but this was probably true of Joh Bunyan. At a time when England possessed more men of genius than she has done at any other period, Bunyan was born, he tells us, “of a low, inconsiderable generation, my father’s house being of that rank which is most dispised of all the families in the land.” He was, in fact, a tinker’s son, as his father and grandfather had been, and nothing therefore was more natural than that he should follow in their footsteps. Of course, he enjoyed none of the privileges of education which were given to most of his fellow-puritans, men who led the nation in learning and scholarship. By the time he was twenty John Bunyan had scarcely read a book, and when he married at that age he and his wife could not muster a dish or a spoon between them. It was his marriage, however, which saw the start of his literary interests. The dowry which his wife had been given by her poor but godly father consisted only of two books, “The Plain Man’s Pathway to Heaven,” and “The Practice of Piety.” Husband and wife read them together, but little of the practice of piety was to be seen in the life and language of the tinker. Many times he became concerned about his loose way of living. His eternal destiny worried him.

On several occasions he was delivered from death and serious injury. Once he became uneasy about his careless desecration of the Lord’s Day and while he was playing “cat” imagined that he heard a voice of solemn warning direct from heaven. At times such experiences halted him in his irreligious behavior and he would turn to his Bible, but at others they would only drive him to greater profanity of language, for he thought that if he were going to Hell, as he must, then he “may as well be damned for many sins as be damned for a few.” He knew what it was to turn over a new leaf, and after one of these superficial reformations he was hailed as one of the godliest men of the district. Such a reputation brought him immense satisfaction and the belief that no man in England could please God better than he.

At length, however, John Bunyan was shaken to the very core of his being. It was no mighty preacher, nor any famous author that did it — merely three or four poor women who “feared the Lord and spoke often one to another.” (Malachi 3:15) Bunyan heard them chatting one day in Bedford and eagerly joined in. But he found himself becoming more and more silent, so that in the end he stopped being a talker and became a listener. So anxious was he to listen that he came again and again to Bedford to hear the simple conversation of these few women. For he found that whilst he was an expert in talking of the things of God, they spoke of God Himself; whilst he knew all about religion, they knew Christ. This realization of his ignorance of Christ threw him into the depths of depression, where he remained for about two and a half years, wondering whether he had a real faith in Christ. This wretchedness came finally to an end as he was walking in a field, and the Spirit of God brought before his mind the words, “Thy righteousness is in heaven,” so that he saw “with the eyes of my soul Jesus Christ at God’s right hand — there, I say, is my righteousness, and today and for ever.”

In 1656 Bunyan was chosen by the church in Bedford to be a travelling preacher in the surrounding villages. Four years later, by now well known both as preacher and as writer, he was arrested for preaching in chapels and refusing to attend church. In spite of dire threats by the judge, Bunyan refused to promise obedience, declaring that if he were out of prison today he would preach the gospel again tomorrow, by the help of God. The penalty he had to pay for such determination was a spell of twelve years in Bedford gaol. The hardship was equally severe for his wife and children. Among the latter was little blind Mary, who had a special place in her father’s affections. Occasionally, to his great delight, she was allowed to visit him. In the dank prison he stayed for seven years, never allowed outside, trying to support his family by three books he had with him — a Bible, a concordance and Foxe’s Book of Martyrs — were in constant use. Later on in his confinement he was allowed out to preach, or to spend the night at home. On one such occasion he was so restless that he told his wife he must return to the prison. The same night, soon after his return, the officer arrived to check that a strict watch was being kept on the prisoners, and John Bunyan in particular. Having found the preacher safe in his cell he left, and Bunyan was told by the bewildered gaoler to come and go as he thought proper, “for you know when to return better than I can tell you!”

The year before his final release from prison he was ordained to the pastorate of the congregation in Bedford, where a regular chapel had been built. On his frequent visits to London, as many as three thousand would gather to hear him preach. They learned John Owen was proud to be one of the crowd on such occasions. Before he died, as a result of a heavy fever, Bunyan joined in prayer with some of his friends: then said: “I go to the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ who will, through he mediation of His Blessed Son, receive me though a sinner where I hope we ere long shall meet to sing the new song and remain everlastingly happy, world without end.”

Next to the Bible, his favorite book was Luther’s commentary on the Galatians, and it is possible that these two in addition to those mentioned above, were the only ones that he ever read. Yet he himself is said to have written sixty books, many of which his widow was too poor to have printed. The Pilgrim’s Progress, written in prison, has been for many years the world’s best seller, after the Bible itself. A stained-glass window has been placed to his memory in Westminster Abbey — a strange contrast to the persecution which he experienced from that quarter in his lifetime! He is today nationally and universally acclaimed. But human nature has not changed, and it is to be feared that if John Bunyan were to appear among us today, the wise of this world who crucified the Lord of glory would likewise once more scorn and repudiate His humble follower, through whom God made foolish the wisdom of the world.

(—The Gospel Magazine)

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