The Life And Ministry Of Ebenezer Marsh

Earthen Vessel 1900:

Dear Brother Mitchell,—In response to your wish for the portrait and a few lines of personal experience to accompany it, no words seem more real to me at this moment than—

“A monument of grace,

A sinner saved by blood,

The straps of love I trace,

Up to the foundation ‘God’—

And in His sacred bosom see,

Eternal thoughts of love to me.”

Born into this world of sin on August 5th, 1853, the dealings of God with the writer have been one long chain of goodness, grace and love to the present hour; but, oh! what shame and confusion of face is mine as the question comes, “How has it been requited?” Only the writer could give anything like a just answer to this soul-humbling question, and his pen for very shame refuses to transcribe all he knows.

Let my God read it if He will, whose heart of love has blotted out my sins through His own most precious blood, but let no imperfect creature wish to peer into this veritable chamber of horrors—the accumulated transgressions, iniquity, and sin, of this base heart.

Rather than stir up the sink of sin—the very relation of which puts such power into the enemy’s hand—let me treasure up a few tokens of my Lord’s redeeming grace; for this most glorifies Him and defeats the foe. And here I am at a disadvantage. Many a time has the Church of Christ rejoiced, and seekers been encouraged, as, dear brother, you have answered the question—‘’How opened He thine eyes?” What anxiety has this question many a time given my soul, especially when listening to the clear call of some, when time, and place, and circumstance—were so clearly told out. However, if the question has wrought anxiety, the testimony—“Whereas I was blind, now I see,” has brought some relief.

Blind! Ah: indeed I was, as to the awful state I was born and lived in, blind to the power of sin, self, and Satan; blind to that hell that must have been the end of the path I loved to walk in, but for the sovereign grace of God in Christ Jesus. Qualms of conscience from earliest recollections, with many a resolve to be and do better belonged to me; a delight in sin, ever associated with a continuous dread of hell, seemed to comprise all the days of my boyhood, and lonely hours filled with terror in those days still cleave to memory.

But, “now I see “—see enough of sin to make me cry, “Wash me throughly,” and enough of it in me today to drown me in despair but for “the precious blood of Jesus Christ “—see enough of it to make me very often alter the lines of Robinson from:—

“Prove His wounds each day more healing,

And myself more fully known;”

To:—

“And THYSELF more fully know.”

Yes! “Now I see” all that in Jesus I long for and love; and sometimes, too, see that in myself that would not be there if He did not love me. If I cannot, as some, see how He called me by His grace, I now see only His grace would call such a wretch, and that it was His grace that made me long for grace, His love that still creates the thirst for love again. Yes! a love only begotten by His great love “Who loved me, and gave Himself for me.”

Ah! my brother, “now I see,” more than ever so, that “Salvation is of the Lord.” The doctrines I once hated now I love. His covenant-engagements before time; the completeness of His finished work at Calvary; with His righteousness alone, imputed, implanted, and imparted, is today my only hope of acceptance with God.

Apart from this no sinner was ever more justly condemned than I—saved in this, none could be more justly received. Oh! I would not, I dare not, I cannot preach any “other Gospel.” Christ and Him crucified is my only theme.—

“E’er since by faith I saw the stream,

Thy flowing wounds supply;

Redeeming love has been my theme,

And shall be till I die.”

Oh, for the Holy Spirit’s power and blessing to accompany this Gospel to sinners and glad tidings to saints. Let no reader of these lines despair, while such a monster of sin as the writer hopes. An “uttermost” Saviour is Christ.

Again, “now I see,” as I view the often misty past, that it was His grace working in my soul at “Old Brentford,” under the ministry of Mr. Parsons—bringing near to me that brother beloved above many, the late T. B. Voysey—leading me to Yarmouth to be instructed by the clear teaching of Mr. F. S. Reynolds—and “now I see,” as I did not—then why those loving hearts who loved my Lord so wished me to join them in Church fellowship, which at last I was privileged to do, being baptized on Lord’s-day, May 31st, 1875.

The first text that gave me any real hope and joy is my sheet anchor today, “WE KNOW THAT WE HAVE PASSED FROM DEATH UNTO LIFE, BECAUSE WE LOVE THE BRETHREN.” Would to God I loved them more, though more than ever unworthy of their love.

Blessed be God for ever hearing the earnest prayers of a Christian father, and answering the dying utterances of a devoted Christian mother (whom, alas! alas! I never knew, but whose memory is dearer every year I live). Yes! He has answered her prayer which was in fact a departing prophecy; for I am told she said I should “live to be the truths she loved, and live to preach them, too.” How little did she think that thirty years afterwards I should be called to the pastorate of the Church where with her own dear hand she wrote her name as a Member. The Church at Yarmouth soon found me work, and a school was formed to labour in; but, the Master called from this to sacred association with loving hearts at Laxfield, in Suffolk, there to labour for nearly ten years as pastor, and experience that first love which, thank God, still glows with fervent heat to those precious souls He gave me to care for. From thence He removed me to the spot where that dear mother’s dust lays—viz., Wellingborough—and five years ago the cloud again moved, and following His call I still labour where He bids me, pleading more than ever for fresh proofs that He has called me at all, and that at Gurney Road, Stratford, His “signs” following shall be given.

Your space, dear brother, forbids me entering on these matters of detail as to the way in which He led me to give up my business calling for the ministry, nor is it needful, as on three different occasions it has been published in this Magazine.

Oh! my brother, I would bless Him for all that is past—and what an ALL it is—a record of unbounded mercies, numbering with them the gift of a devoted partner whom I was privileged to baptize at Laxfield—and now eleven dear children, four of whom have followed their beloved Lord in baptism. How shall I praise Him enough for this? I would in the light of the past” trust Him for all thats to come,” and sing with more reality than ever.

“Each sweet Ebenezer I have in review,

Confirms His good pleasure to help me quite through.”

Ebenezer Marsh

Stratford, Dec. 13, 1899.