The Life And Ministry Of Jabez Mowle

Earthen Vessel 1894:

Mr. Jabez Mowle

Jabez Mowle was known,  loved, and revered, not only at Stoke Ash, and in all Churches of truth throughout Suffolk, but by many in London, for there is scarce a cause in the great Metropolis but has some members who hail from East Anglia, beside numerous others who are in the habit of visiting Suffolk and Norfolk at the annual gatherings of the Association. To all such, the noble form, the cheerful countenance: the heartiness with which he entered into the services and worship of God, the rich, melodious voice—deep-toned bass—with now and again the tear trickling down his furrowed cheek, as he poured forth the music of his soul in the service of praise—to all such we repeat, Jabez Mowle will be very familiar; and not unfrequently, though advanced in years, his voice was heard at the six o’clock morning prayer-meeting, seeking God’s blessing on the Associated Churches of Suffolk and Norfolk.

We are indebted to our indefatigable Suffolk correspondent for the excellent account of this “brother beloved.” Our contributor says:—

“Our dear departed brother, Jabez Mowle, first saw the light of day on the 26th of April, 1812, thus, had he lived two months longer, he would have reached the ripe age of 82 years, but the appointed time had come, and the Lord called him home. He was born in the village of Yaxley, Suffolk, and was blessed with God-fearing parents. Very early in life he was the subject of convictions of sin. When about five years old, on one occasion he remembered some unpleasantness arose between him and one of his brothers after they were in bed; it ended in his giving his brother a smart slap. After it was over, little Jabez became so unhappy he could not sleep, and was afraid he would die before the morning. About the same time he remembered learning the hymn commencing:—

“I’m not ashamed to own my Lord, 

Or to defend His cause

Maintain the honour of His word, 

The glory of His cross.”

Climbing upon his father’s knee and repeating it, one day, he said to his mother, “he would like that hymn to be sung at his funeral.” Though he did not then understanding the meaning of the words, they seemed to carry a sweetness with them. The child’s wish was granted, for the hymn was sung in connection with his funeral services. When he became a young man, his convictions of sin were deepened, under a sermon preached by a Mr. Gooch, then ministry at Eye. In the order of God’s providence he was led to cast in his lot with people at Stole Ash, and on the 17^th of May, 1840, he was baptized, and received into full communion with the Church worshipping there. We have heard him tell, that on the morning when he was to be baptized, he was afraid that he was not a fit subject for believer’s baptism, so he asked the Lord that if he was right the sun might shine. When he went into the vestry to prepare for the solemn service, he did not known if nature’s sun shined, but he felt the warm beams from the Sun of Righteousness penetrating into his heart, dispelling all the gloom, and causing him to rejoice in the liberty of the children of God. By his prayers and addresses (which were for the most part experimental), when conducting services, he cheered up many a tried believer’s heart. He loved Zion, and often, when addressing the Lord in public prayer, he would express his feelings in the following words:—

“Here to these hills my soul would come,

Till my Beloved leads me home.”

He would also, in prayer, frequently remind the Lord of His own words, saying, ‘Thou hast said, Lord, “Other sheep I have which are not of this fold, them also I must bring, and there shall be one fold and one Shepherd.” Do bring them, Lord; do make them manifest.”

He was chosen to the office of deacon on December 23rd, 1849. When told of the honour conferred upon him, he wept, saying, ‘He could not think what the friends meant; for as he was no scholar, he should be no use.’ Yet, by God’s grace ‘he used the office of deacon well, and gained to himself a good report.’ He loved his pastor, loved the Church, and sought its interest and welfare.

“Rather more than 12 months before his decease he was not able to attend chapel, and for about seven months he was confined to his bed. At times he was filled with doubts and fears, but as the end drew nearer he became more bright. Reflecting upon the past, he would sometimes say, with teats, ‘Here I am, what the dear Lord has made me; I have not swerved the least in my profession; by the grace of God, I am what I am!’ About two months before his death he chose the text he wished his pastor to speak from when he was gone home; it was Rom. 8:38,39. He had sweetly realised during his pilgrimage the truthfulness of those precious words, and the prospect of death did not distress him. His granddaughter, who kept house for him the last few years of his life, and attended to him, ministering to his comfort in his weakness, said, “His conversation at times was most blessed.” Approaching his end, he gradually got weaker, and at ten minutes past 9 p.m., February 2nd, 1894, his ransomed spirit shook off the tenements of clay, and winged its way to the home of many mansions.

The Funeral

On Friday, February 9th, his mortal remains were deposited in the grave, where the bodies of his two beloved wives had previously been laid to rest, in the burying-ground belonging to Stoke Ash Chapel; Mr. C. Hill officiated. A goodly number of friends assembled, including the deceased’s two surviving sons, several grandchildren, and other members of his family, some of the officers of the Church, and several friends, members of the Church and congregation. The service was appropriate, solemn, and impressive.

The Memorial Service

On the following Lord’s-day, February 11^th, our pastor referred to our brother while preaching from the text of his choice (Rom. 8:38,39). Among other things, Mr. Hill said: “Jabez Mowle was born in Suffolk, lived all his life in this district, and was well known throughout the county. In the Association services he took great delight, and was, if possible, ever present at them. Fifty-four years is a long time for a man to profess religion, and to be well kept. He used the office of deacon well; the Church had no reason to regret making choice of him. I always think of Jabez as a warm-hearted, free-and-easy-going sort of man; in his younger days one of the best tempered men I ever knew.

I have known him, in days gone by, to go of an evening miles to a special prayer-meeting, then after it was over, perhaps sit up half the night singing and conversing with Christian friends. He had enough religion to last him day and night too; some feeble people nowadays have scarcely sufficient for Sundays. He loved Zion, and the chief engagement of his dying bed was to pray for Zion. His end was peace; the Lord came and kissed his soul away. He was the last of his generation, and now he sis gone home, but has left children and grandchildren behind. May the father’s God be their God, that they too may join him and other members of the family gone before.

Pastor E. March’s Testimony

With an extract from a letter written by Pastor E. Marsh, upon hearing of his death, we close this brief memoir. Mr. Marsh writes:—

“I have often wondered how dear old friend Mowle was getting on. I loved that aged saint. To sit down in his cottage and hear the dear old man talk on things divine was an inspiration to me: his heart would grow warm, and soon set light to mine. God be praised for having now glorified the dear old pilgrim. We sorrow not as others which have no hope.

May the Lord comfort those who mourn for him. We thank God for his life, and usefulness, and trust. We may yet see verified in the history of the Church at Stoke Ash, that although God buries His workmen from age to age, He carries on His work still; for “one generation shall praise His works to another, and shall declare His mighty acts.” May we see it more and more; and then, while our hearts are glad, all the glory will we give to Him to whom alone it is due.

‘P. Barrell

Wickham Skeith, Eye.

[The foregoing memoir would be incomplete without a slight reference to “The Tent” belonging to the Suffolk and Norfolk Association, in which they hold their annual meetings. This tent was for many years looked after, watched over, and taken care of most sedulously by our departed friend, and we have sometimes thought, but for his care in its transit from place to place, pitching it, taking it down, folding it, &c., &c., it would not have weathered storm and sunshine so many years so well. Beside all this, beneath its shade he has had many a soul-reviving feast. Every inch of canvas, every peg, every rope, he looked upon as consecrated not by the creature, but by the Creator. We have seen his face radiant with joy during the services, which, though they last two days, to him were too short.—John Waters Banks]