The Life And Ministry Of John Lynn

Earthen Vessel 1894:

Mr. John Hunt Lynn

My Dear Brother,—In fulfilment of my promise to beloved William Winters, renewed to you, I send you a brief record of some of the gracious dealings of the Lord in my experience.

I was born in 1845, at Kingsland, and was the first son in a numerous family: a child over whom much prayer was offered by my father, and by others at Trinity, Hackney, where he was a member under the hallowed ministry of Mr. Hughes. Thence we removed to Camberwell. For a brief period “The Grove” was the spiritual lodge; and on a visit to the Sunday-school, when but five years of age (the only occasion of my entering a Sunday-school until I became a teacher), the Spirit of God revealed to me the sinfulness of my nature, under a lucid exposition of the necessity of the new birth as set forth by the Lord to Nicodemus. We then went to East-street, Walworth. ”Big-hearted” Jeffrey Moody was the pastor.

The truth learned on that memorable Sunday afternoon at the Sunday-school, wrought mightily. The sense of ruin, the anguish of the consciousness of my sinful nature, the anxious travail of my soul, and the utter helplessness that I realized, told upon my frame. My health gave way under the strain of my labouring and heavy-laden mind. Physicians were of little use. During two years my spirit was thus bowed down. At length, dear Moody’s rich and manly testimony of the “Jehovah-love”—I feel as if I could hear his voicie now—did its sweet work; and the little child, prematurely aged with grief, was brought forth into the light of Omnipotent love. My Lord Jesus indeed took me up in His arms, put His hands upon me, and blessed me! The joy of the Lord was then my strength, and both mind and body found the vigour of Divine gladness. How I loved to feel that I was in the company of the children of God. The first two verses of Watts’s hymn, Lord, how delightful, &c. (Winter’s Sunday-school Hymnal, No. 105) perfectly express my feelings then. Earth was the vestibule of heaven to me for a year, and then came a long, cloudy, and dark day.

Placed in the City of London School amongst 630 boys I found ample scope for the exercise of a heart full to overflowing with the lovingkindness of the Lord; but, at length, under strong temptation anger was aroused, and my feet were taken in the net. I had felt that no passion but love was mine; but now—alas!—now was Satan’s hour with me, and how awful the power of darkness. Space forbids details here. My year-old joy was gone. What questionings and fears rushed upon me. Had I been deceived? Was I an unconscious hypocrite but exposed to myself at last? In my bewilderment and distress I moaned to the Lord, but felt no answer to my pain, nor sense of pardon for my sin. I developed into a daring and apparently bright youth. The more the gnawing within was felt (and it increased terribly), the more I seemed to others to be keen and vigorous. These external conditions masked me effectually.

Rapidly and successfully going through my curriculum, and unwilling to go to Cambridge, because I would not “conform” to the “Church” (Dissenters disabilities were in force in those days), I left school before I was twelve years of age and faced the world.

The unequal conflict between a breaking heart and a buoyant bearing could not be maintained much longer. Anxiety of soul was now consuming my life, and fierce and mighty were the efforts of the tempter to induce me to seek the death of desire in the recklessness of wickedness. But God watched over me. Under the ministries of Moyle of Peckham, of Wyard of Deptford, for two years of James Wells at the old Tabernacle, and, at intervals, of C. W. Banks I listened with my whole life, but deliverance came not. Dear Wells often carried me up to the gates but never led me in. Men in business took note of my grief. It could not be hid. They feared that I should lose my reason; but not the kindest persuasions could draw out my confidence. Preachers of other schools were listened to but the effect was to drive me near despair. In free grace testimony there was a little hope, but in all else there was none.

Deeper darkness enveloped me. Word out and baffled I drank the mental opiate of infidelity. Fear and hope seemed now dead, and even carnal joy became impossible. Let this page of my life be unwritten. Defiance of God and repudiation of His holy name at length wrought their accursed issues, so far as grace permitted. A heavy sorrow in the loss of an idolized brother stranded me in hopeless melancholy and I now had no wish but for death. My soul seemed already dead and all interest even in the things of this life was quenched. 

Oh the depth of the riches of the unspeakable grace of God! Deliverance was at hand at last although the smallest wish for it seemed impossible. 

“How sovereign, wonderful, and free,

Is all His love to sinful me!”

I went mechanically to chapel with the family. On one occasion the regular minister was absent. The supply was taken very seriously ill. He descended from the pulpit, and R. Govett, who was in the chapel, was requested to go on with the service. It was a memorable Sunday evening: the unexpected preacher said he could not preach, but he expounded part of Romans 10. Seven seeking souls were set free, and the ninth verse fell into my soul. What wrestlings followed for two weeks that seemed like ages, until, shut up with God in my room, on Sunday afternoon, October 25, 1863, the conflict ceased. I fell as His blessed feet with “Lord, I believe; help Thou my unbelief.” Speechless, but calm at last, I knew the peace of God.

After a few weeks’ sweet soul rest I was baptized, and soon desire to testify the grace of God possessed me. A class in the Sunday-school was given me in which the dear Master gave much blessing. On the evening of March 24, 1864, I was induced, with the utmost diffidence, to preach in the open air. On April 2 I was irresistibly impelled again to speak, and was mightily assisted on that occasion. Henceforward I was sent for, and the word was with power. In February, 1865, the Lord helped me at Woburn-green, and many blessed hours were afterwards spent with good old father Howard there. In April, 1865, at Bethesda, Trowbridge, an effectual door was opened to me, and many were called from darkness to light. In 1866, at Westbourne Hall, Bayswater, a congregation gathered round me and many souls were blessed. In 1867 God led me to Broadhempston, in Devonshire, and thence, after two years, to Zoar, Exeter; Trinity, Plymouth; Enon, Woolwich; Forest-lane (now Gurney-road), Stratford; Zion, Deptford; and now to Dacre-park.

Brought in 1863 to rejoice in the Lord, His Word became the book of my life and of every moment I could give to reading and study. It was, and has ever been since, the joy and rejoicing of my heart sweeter far than honey. In its pages I learned the truth, and found in comparison that other books were irksome and wearying. Line upon line the doctrines of grace, tasted in the earliest days and theoretically learned by long association with those that held them, were taught and wrought into my soul. The Word and the Mercy-seat have ever been powerfully associated. The vital power of Divine doctrine has been both guide and stay. The former experiences produced a solemn dread lest in any degree I should go aside from the testimony of God. Thus my merciful and most tender Lord prepared me for His work and then used me in it, graciously preserving me from ever once uttering an Arminian or “freewill” thought. “Oh to grace how great a debtor!”

In 1865 I had the very great privilege of the love, confidence, and counsel of James Wells, whom I revered and greatly loved. Intercourse with him at his home was a benediction, and is among my most treasured memories. He urged me forward in the ministry, but the greatest of the work alarmed me and the fear of running unsent restrained me. This fear followed me until some four years ago, and sometimes now its returns. 

The years of my ministerial life have had their measure of trial, conflict, and temptation, but from the glooms of doubt the Lord has most graciously kept me. Service impelled by His resistless love doubles the joy of sonship, and in entering on the pastorate at Dacre-park the blessedness of the peace of God and of secret communion are more realized than in any of the former years. 

“Lost in astonishment, I see,

Jesus, Thy boundless love to me.”

Who am I…that the Lord hath brought me hitherto? Oh magnify the Lord with me and let us exalt His name together! How the greatness of His favour overwhelms, and with soul trembling and deepened sense of utter insufficiency compels the humble and grateful assurance that He will yet more abundantly work in me to will and to do of His good pleasure.

“My soul stands trembling while she sings,

The honors of her God.”

Yours in the bonds of victorious grace

J. H. Lynn