Pulling Down the Rooks’ Nests
“The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer; my God, my strength, in whom I will trust; my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower”
In 1559, reluctantly leaving his wife with her mother in Geneva, the reformer returned to Scotland. He arrived in time to take his place with four ministers who had been called upon to answer for the crime of celebrating the Lord’s Supper other than in the Roman Catholic method. But the clergy did not want to confront Knox once they realized he had come, so they dismissed the accusation against the five ministers. The Queen Regent then tried to halt the proceedings of the case, but broke her word when a riot at Perth led to her quartering troops in that city in spite of her promise not to do so.
Sensing the ripeness of the moment, two noblemen, who were supported by many of the people, met with Knox to discuss the wisdom of openly beginning the Reformation in Scotland. “We have come to consult about what we should do to reform the scandalous lives of the clergy, and deliver Scotland from its present religious bondage” said Lord James Stewart, introducing the Earl of Argyll to John Knox in the little room in St. Andrews that the reformer then occupied.
“A reformation is exactly what we need,” insisted Lord James. “The Queen Regent is faithless, and her daughter Mary, Queen of Scots, and her husband, the King of France’s son, are both dangerous too. Almost half the land and property of Scotland now belongs to the Roman Catholic Church. Furthermore, the priests are ignorant, morally degraded, and a disgrace to humanity. Politically, the Queen is also setting up for a cruel reign by bringing in all these French troops. With all that said, however, I feel that we must still reform slowly, and spare all that we can that is still good.”
“Never, my lord!” disagreed Knox. “In England the half-hearted attempt to serve God and mammon brought about the persecution under Queen Mary. Though Queen Elizabeth is currently likely to stand by the Reformation, she also is trying to face north and south simultaneously. As I’ve always said, in England, the many things that we thought we could tolerate, and that were therefore left in place, would bring down God’s wrath. I say we need to make a clean sweep, and do it quickly.”
“But shouldn’t we at least try to keep the abbeys and other nice buildings?” asked the Earl of Argyle. “It seems like sheer vandalism to pull them down.”
“My motto is to pull down the rooks’ nests,” replied Knox with a flame in his eye, “and then you will not be bothered by the birds. Take them all away, I say.”
“But don’t you think that Scotland will fall to the French influences of money and armies that will come to the Pope’s aid if we begin a reformation in this way? What can we do, and where can we turn for help?” asked Stewart.
“To God first,” replied Knox, “and afterward to the Queen of England. Now I know that she doesn’t like me, and when I tried to return home through her kingdom, she refused to let me cross the border into her realms. But I have since communicated with one of her officers, and I think she can be persuaded to help out soon. What I fear most, however, is that her armies will come too late. We need to urge her to hurry, and even before that we need to get started ourselves!”
“But how?” asked Argyle.
“I will preach in the cathedral next Sunday — June 11, 1559,” said Knox, “and call on the people to renounce their bad ways and to cast off the shackles of Rome. I already told them that I would speak on this subject.”
“Yes you did, but the Archbishop also said that if you do, he will imprison you, and I’m afraid we can’t defend you against both the Queen and the clergy” said Stewart.
“I call God to witness,” declared Knox, “that I have never preached in contempt of any man, but I cannot agree to not preach tomorrow. God first made me a preacher in that place. Furthermore, when the French, instigated by the bishops, tore me from there and sent me into exile, I expressed my belief, in the hearing of many, that God would bring me back to preach in that church once more. Now in His providence He has granted me the desire of my heart. Allow me to do what I feel to be right. As far as danger to myself, don’t worry yourselves about defending me. I don’t want anyone’s hand nor sword. My life is in the power of Him whose I am, and whom I serve. Oh, sirs, I just want to be allowed to speak what God has placed on my heart! If I am denied this desire, I will seek it where I may have it.”
“Have your own way, then,” said Lord James, silenced by the zealous energy in Knox. “We will stand by you.”
Accordingly, Knox preached on “Take these things hence” (John 2:1616And said unto them that sold doves, Take these things hence; make not my Father's house an house of merchandise. (John 2:16)), and the magistrates and people of St. Andrews at once proceeded to clean the city of its idolatry. After staying in St. Andrews about a month, Knox accepted a call to become the minister of Edinburgh. But when that place fell into the Queen’s hands, Knox left and began a tour of the country. The Queen Regent was finally formally deposed from her place of authority, and a civil war began. The English Government decided, in their self-interest, to interfere, and in April, 1560, an English army entered Scotland. The Queen Regent died, the French returned to their own country, and a free Parliament was called to settle the affairs of Scotland. Thus the Scottish Reformation was born.
Much had been changed. The Reformation had obtained legal recognition, and had secured for itself the liberty of worship, which was all that it needed to gain its due place and authority. Knox’s wife and her mother had now rejoined him, having been allowed to travel through England. Reinstated as minister in Edinburgh, John Knox commenced a fresh career of usefulness in the service of Christ.