It was Christmas Day 1784 when John Witherspoon first received the news that his youngest daughter, only recently married and very recently a mother, had died.
The letter from Witherspoon to his bereaved son-in-law, David Ramsay, is extraordinary. The return letter from Ramsay to his bereaved father-in-law is just as touching. But perhaps most remarkable of all is what Witherspoon preached on after his daughter died.
Ashbel Green tells the story, starting with that sad Christmas Day:
The Doctor called at the office, took the letter, came immediately to the house of his son-in-law, the Rev. Dr. Smith, and opened and read it, in the midst of an agitated circle. He read it to himself–As he read, the tears rolled down his manly cheeks, but he uttered not a word, till he had read it through. He then wiped away his tears, made a few remarks with composure, mounted his horse, and returned immediately to [his home] Tusculum.
The day which followed, in place of being one of festivity, became one of deep gloom and mourning, both in the college and the town. Mrs. Ramsay was a most accomplished and amiable woman, the delight of her associates, and the pride of the village. She possessed, in no inconsiderable degree, the wit and sagacity of her father. But like him, too, she possessed prudence, good nature and piety; and her mental endowments were always employed to give pleasure, and not pain to her acquaintance.
She died on the fifth day after she became a mother, and within a year after marriage. A funeral sermon was preached by the Rev. Dr. Smith, on the occasion of her death, in the church at Princeton, on the first or second Sabbath after the afflictive intelligence of her dissolution reached that place.
Dr. Witherspoon shortly after commenced a series of discourses, on “the doctrine and duty of submission to the will of God.” The discourses were sixteen in number, delivered on as many successive sabbaths; and all founded on Luke xxii.42–“Father, if thou be willing, remove this cup from me: nevertheless, not my will but thine be done.” The nature of genuine Christian submission was accurately discriminated and clearly illustrated in these discourses; the various bearings of the duty were pointed out, and the whole was accompanied with much practical application. It is not recollected that the speak alluded to his own particular interest in the subject, more than once.
Sixteen sermons on one verse: not my will, but yours be done. With no more than a single personal reference to his own grief. That’s not the only way to preach in the midst of great sadness. But it is certainly one remarkable way to extol and take comfort in the mysterious providence of of our good God.
