Richard and Margaret Baxter — “A Grief Sanctified”

Richard Baxter (1615-91) was a prolific and influential Puritan writer. J.I. Packer here chronicles Baxter’s writing about the deep grief he experienced after the death of his beloved wife of 19 years, Margaret (1636-81). The book includes Richard’s memoir of his extraordinary wife, written just a month after her sudden, unexpected passing. This unique account gives insight on Puritan thought and marriage, a Christian approach to heart-wrenching loss, and two fascinating and exemplary Christian lives.

The couple’s families came from England’s aristocracy (as distinct from laborers, tradesmen, and professionals [lawyers, physicians, clergy, and educators]). Richard’s father was a minor gentleman and weighed down with debt. Margaret’s father was a more prominent gentleman, a justice of the peace, and wealthy.

Richard was a pastor before the Church of England forced him to give up his church and devote himself to writing. Margaret was converted to Christianity in 1657 after hearing a series of Baxter’s sermons preached in her town. She underwent a radical change of heart, sincerely devoting herself to Christ and service to God thereafter. Soon, however, she became seriously ill with chronic and severe lung problems. Richard and his inner circle set themselves to fasting and continual prayer for her. She was suddenly cured, seemingly miraculously. She began to depend on Pastor Richard to answer her spiritual questions. When he left for London to help in the restoration of the Church of England, Margaret and her widowed mother followed. Richard and Margaret eventually married in 1662. Their happy married life lasted 19 years, until Margaret died.

Packer wrote the book in part because he had long profited from Baxter’s writing and wanted to bring his life and thoughts to more Christians. But Baxter’s wife Margaret’s story is compelling in its own right. Richard’s memoir of her is comparable in many ways to C.S. Lewis’s famous work, A Grief Observed, similarly written shortly after the death of his wife, Joy, while his pain was raw and almost overwhelming. Packer commends both works as healthy examples of a Christian’s “grieving deeply, but with hope.”

Richard was perhaps England’s best-known Christian writer when he penned Margaret’s memoir in 1681. He had been banned from pastoring a church in 1662 over differences with the newly re-established Church of England. As a result, he made writing his primary ministry, becoming extraordinarily prolific. A fascinating sub-theme of the book and memoir is the sometimes-striking differences in personality and views between Richard and Margaret. One such difference related to Richard’s writing: he preferred to write as much as he reasonably could; she would rather that he write less but with the utmost quality.

While still in the thrall of desperate grief, Richard memorialized Margaret. Why did he write her biography just a few weeks after her death? Partly he was driven to show the world his exceptional bride. The ache of missing her was partially soothed by telling of her goodness. As Richard writes on this question, “Did not Christ say of Mary’s box of ointment, that it should be remembered wherever the gospel was preached?”

Richard shows us her beautiful qualities, but he is forthright about her deficiencies. He paints the portrait of a real person, deeply committed to following Christ in the best way she knew how, but also one (like all of us) with flaws. We learn of the fascinating and moving story of their unlikely union: the committed bachelor scholar-parson marrying a society girl nineteen years his junior. Whatever preconceptions you might have of a Puritan minister’s marriage, this account will likely challenge them.

Richard Baxter was well known and influential in his day, and his reputation and reach have only grown since. His memoir movingly reveals the way his wife helped him in his ministry and growth as a Christian. He was sure that he would not have been nearly able to do what he did without her devotion to him and his ministry.

And that devotion was not without cost. Marriage to Richard meant a giving up her lofty society status. It meant frequent household moves and loss of the sense of place and security she valued. As Richard’s Puritan theology did not conform to the Church of England, it meant suffering with him in persecution. She knew the cost before marrying him. When he was imprisoned for several months for his non-approved preaching, she cheerfully joined him in jail.

She encouraged Richard to be bold in his ministry, believing that any minister should count no cost or suffering too dear to serve Christ. She believed neither the very real threat of imprisonment nor the danger of being fined for every sermon were good reasons to shrink from boldness. Her influence undoubtedly helped make his ministry bolder and more influential. His writing reflected Puritan convictions, which were not the modern caricature of a legalistic denial of self and renouncing the good pleasures of the world. Rather, Richard and Margaret’s Puritanism was a reform effort within Protestantism with the goal of bringing all life under God’s lordship and the power of the gospel.

To say that Margaret believed that Christians were called to radical generosity is an understatement. She was so liberal in her giving and in doing whatever she could for those who requested help from her that even her pastor husband thought she went too far. She continually promised to find money to pay the debts of those in need, which often meant she paid most of the debt herself. Richard writes, “Her judgment was that we ought to give more or less to every one that asketh, if we have it…” He thought that prudence in discerning “need and worth” of potential recipients were important. One might note that by neglecting to consider the worthiness of the needy, Margaret was more aligned to the gospel of grace than he was on this issue. Richard writes, admiringly, that, “Alas, I know many poor widows and others who think they have now lost a mother and are left desolate…”

Richard judged her reason and judgment when resolving practical problems and disputes as exceptional. Often hard cases were brought to Richard and Margaret, complex situations involving her family, estate, or other business. He states that his habit was to put to her all cases he faced. He admits that she was wiser at resolving difficult dilemmas than he was.

Despite the persecution and hardships her family suffered due to theological disputes and mandates, Margaret had deep desire for Christian unity. She strove mightily to love all true Christians uniformly, no matter their sect or dogmas.

This account might challenge a reader’s (at least it did so for me) notions of Puritanism. To Richard and Margaret, the most holy thing one could do is delight in God, his speech to us through the Word, and his works. There is no hint of legalism or condescending judgmentalism. By contrast, there is much discussion of grace, redemption, and meditating on God’s promises and the hope of heaven.

She was no shrinking violet in their marriage. There’s was apparently a marriage where she spoke forthrightly to him when she thought he had fallen short of some mark, and he made clear that he wanted her opinions of him. He trusted her judgment, thinking it superior to any others he knew. He writes, “If I spoke rashly or sharply, it offended her…if my very looks seemed not pleasant, she would have me amend them…” Whatever the reader’s prior assumptions about a Puritan marriage, they probably miss the mark regarding Richard and Margaret.

As is common I’m sure, after her death Richard wrestled with regret that he had not been a better husband when he had the opportunity. His main sense of guilt involved “… my too cold and careless converse and of all my impatiency with her impatience, and of all my hasty words…”

Richard ends the account of his wife’s life and death with a stirring, helpful reminder of the gospel and Christian hope. All the difficulty, affliction, regret, and disappointment of this world, even the great heartache of losing someone you’ve loved deeply for a long time, pale in comparison to a Christian’s brilliant future. We mourn, but we should mourn with perspective. He writes, “…you may see how little cause we have to be over-serious about any worldly matters, … and how necessary it is to possess them as if we possessed them not, seeing the time is short and the fashion of this world passes away. And … if we love God ourselves, yea, or our friends, we should long to be with Christ, where they are far more amiable than here, and where in the City of God, the Jerusalem above, we shall delightfully dwell with them forever…that we shall soon be with Christ. We can therefore rejoice with joy unspeakable and full of glory.”