During the early days of the Reformation in England, toward the close of Queen Mary’s reign, Bernard Gilpin, a Reformed pastor, lived in northern England. Brother Gilpin was deeply loved by the poor villagers to whom he ministered; and from them, he had received the title, “Apostle of the North.”
One of Bernard’s favorite Bible texts, and one he used to inspire everyone he knew with hope and courage, was Romans 8:28, which says, “And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, to them who are the called according to His promise.” Whatever came, whether good or bad, his word was always the same, “Ah, well, God’s will be done; all is for the best.”
Queen Mary was a bitter enemy of Protestantism; and during her reign, many people lost their lives for accepting the Reformed faith. One day, as Mr. Gilpin was deep into his study of the Bible, there was a knock on his door. A detachment of soldiers had been sent by the queen to arrest him for heresy. He was to be taken to London, there to be charged with treason and given the typical mock trial that all received who were suspected of heresy. While Gilpin was preparing to go with the soldiers, the word of his arrest spread rapidly. Soon a large group of villagers had gathered to mourn the loss of their pastor and to bid him farewell. As he was preparing to leave them, nothing doubting that he would soon die at the martyr’s stake, Brother Gilpin tried to encourage them with the words, “God’s will be done; all is for the best.”
Near sunset on the second day of horseback riding, the soldiers and Gilpin arrived at a small village. The captain inquired about an inn in which to spend the night. As they dismounted, Gilpin fell. This so excited his horse that it bolted down the cobblestone street, dragging Gilpin behind.
When one of the soldiers finally stopped the horse and Gilpin tried to stand on his feet, a sharp pain raced up his leg. Closer examination revealed a bloody and broken ankle, as well as some other severe cuts and scrapes. Badly injured, He had to be carried into the inn by three other men.
The captain was furious. He knew that this meant a delay in their traveling. The next morning he sent all of the men ahead to report the unfortunate accident to his commander, while he remained with the prisoner. Turning to Gilpin, the captain angrily said, “I suppose that you are going to tell me that this is all for the best?”
“Sir, I make no question that it is,” Gilpin meekly replied. The rough captain laughed as he looked at the man who was soon going to lose his life for preaching against the established religion of England.
“I suppose you believe,” the captain continued, “that everything worked out well for your friends Latimer and Ridley when her royal highness burned them at the stake.” Before Gilpin could reply, the unfriendly captain continued, “and what about the Archbishop of Canterbury? You cannot tell me that he felt that when she ordered him to give his life that he was happy about it.”
A little more than two weeks passed in the little inn as the captain kept up his unrelenting attack on Gilpin’s confidence that God was going to work out things for his best good. The captain did not do all of the talking, however, and there can be little doubt that in listening to the patient answers of the quiet man of God, the rough captain’s heart was touched.
Just prior to the day that it had been determined that Gilpin’s condition had improved sufficiently so that he could make the trip to London to face trial and certain death, the town crier came past the inn announcing that Mary had died and that Elizabeth now reigned in her place. Elizabeth was a Protestant; and the captain, realizing that it would be futile to take Gilpin any farther, released him on the spot.
The Protestant Reformer returned to his flock, and the captain to his duty in London. Even though their backgrounds and beliefs were as different as night and day, there was one thing that they both knew to be true; and that is that, “All things work together for good to them that love God,” even to the breaking of an ankle.