THE MEN WHOM GOD USES IN REVIVAL
Authored by Reverend Allen M. Baker
Christ Community Presbyterian Church
West Hartford, CT
John Davidson and the General Assembly of 1596
John Livingston at the Kirk of Shotts, 1630
William M’Culloch of Cambuslang, Scotland, 1742
Jonathan Edwards and the Great Awakening in New England, 1741
George Whitefield And His Courage In The Face Of Opposition
Samuel Davies, A Preacher With Remarkable Unction
Asahel Nettleton: An Old-School Presbyterian Evangelist with Great Power
Daniel Baker: A Zealous Presbyterian Evangelist
John Davidson and the General Assembly of 1596
By the early 1590’s the glory of the reformation in Scotland was thirty years in the past. Few preachers from that time were still alive and John Davidson, a pastor in the Presbyterian Church of Scotland, who was serving the congregation at Prestonpans, was deeply concerned with the state of the church and her ministry. Davidson was a humble, zealous, earnest servant of Christ who saw the church in great decline. He laid the problem at the feet of the pastors. Davidson was a man of great gifts- learning, holiness, eloquence, and honesty. Within a year or two of coming to Prestonpans God was bringing an awakening to the church and community. His zeal and the progress of holiness in his church moved pastors from the Synod of Fife, the region around Prestonpans, to seek God’s presence with earnestness. In fact the pastors in the Synod urged Davidson to write a series of short morning and evening prayers for the spiritually immature or ignorant men in their churches to use in leading family worship. Davidson preached at the General Assembly of 1593 and lamented the poor state of the Kirk of Scotland and her ministers. He told them that they were the coldest and most careless men in Scotland, that though they were not guilty of heresy, they nonetheless were guilty of a lack of zeal for the church and her glory. He urged them to repent with earnestness in hopes that the Holy Spirit would bring transformation to their churches. He said that their flocks were starving due to their coldness of heart. Three years later nothing much had changed except that an invasion by Roman Catholic Spain was very much a possibility. This gained the attention of the Scottish Kirk pastors and they knew something must be done. At the Presbytery meeting in early 1596 Davidson urged an overture to the General Assembly which was to meet on March 24, 1596. Davidson was the apparent author of the overture and while it acknowledged the imminent danger of Spanish invasion, saying certain precautions certainly ought to be put in place, he was very quick to say that this was woefully inadequate to protect them. Instead only a merciful God working in and through the hearts of His people could prevent their destruction. The overture stressed the need for the General Assembly to make preparations for a universal repentance and earnest turning to God.
The General Assembly met on March 24th of that year at the St. Giles Church, Edinburgh, the church of John Knox a generation before them. About 400 ministers were present and when the overture was read, almost all the men believed they ought to seek God for His presence and power. James Melville and Robert Bruce were recommended to lead a meeting of corporate repentance but each declined, saying that John Davidson was the man most qualified to lead it. The General Assembly adjourned in order to reconvene a week or so later. The following week the General Assembly reconvened at the St. Giles Church at 9 a.m. and Davidson proceeded to read Ezekiel 13 and 34 which makes many denunciations concerning the false prophets and shepherds over Israel.
“Son of Man, prophesy against the prophets of Israel who prophesy, and say to those who prophesy from their own inspiration, ‘Listen to the word of the Lord.’ Thus says the Lord God, ‘Woe to the foolish prophets who are following their own spirit and have seen nothing’”. . .”They see falsehood and lying divination who are saying, ‘The Lord declares,’ when the Lord has not sent them; yet they hope for the fulfillment of their word.”. . .”Therefore, thus says the Lord God, ‘Because you have spoken falsehood and seen a lie, therefore behold, I am against you,’ declares the Lord,” Ezekiel 13:2, 3, 6-8.
“Woe, shepherds of Israel who have been feeding themselves! Should not the shepherds feed the flock? You eat the fat and clothe yourselves with the wool, you slaughter the fat sheep without feeding the flock Those who are sickly you have not strengthened, the diseased you have not healed, the broken you have not bound up, the scattered you have not brought back, nor have you sought for the lost; but with force and with severity you have dominated them. . .and My shepherds did not search for My flock, but rather the shepherds fed themselves and did not feed My flock. . .Thus says the Lord God, ‘Behold, I am against the shepherds, and I shall demand My sheep from them and make them cease from feeding sheep,” Ezekiel 34:2-4, 8-10.
Davidson made specific application to the pastors of the General Assembly, asking searching questions of their ministerial conduct and way of life. He also brought indictments concerning the behavior and values of the Scottish royalty, gentlemen, and the common man. After Davidson finished his exhortation, a time was given to prayer and confession of sin. The Scottish ministers came under great conviction of sin and many began to weep and pray, grieving over their sin, agreeing to renew their covenant with God. This covenant, the details of which we do not have and perhaps they were never reduced to writing, was taken back to the Synods, Presbyteries, and local congregations, resulting in a church wide covenant renewal which within weeks drew the Scottish Presbyterian Church back to God. A revival had again come to the Church of Scotland.
What lessons can we take from this which ought to move us to pursue God more earnestly? I will mention four things from John Davidson’s life, a man whom God used in revival. First, John Davidson saw a lack of piety among the ministers and was deeply grieved by it. As you read Ezekiel 13 and 34, meditating upon it, do you not see similar problems with us in the PCA? At this moment, I am not so much concerned about others as I am myself. Should we not look deeply at our own sin, what Richard Owen Roberts calls the root sins of pride, unbelief, and rebellion? Our tendency, is it not, is to repent of fruit sins, things like anger, worldliness, lust, looking at pornography, harsh words with our wives or children, rudeness to store clerks. To be sure we repent of these, asking God’s forgiveness, but I suggest these are merely fruit sins, growing from something much deeper. It seems to me that many ministers battle the root sin of pride. We tend to think more highly of ourselves that we ought. We tend to think we are entitled to a big church, more money, less hassle from people, free flowing compliments for our excellent preaching, counseling, discipling, or equipping. We come to expect things to go our way, that we are entitled to a relatively easy pastoral charge, that we are entitled to live close to our parents, children, or grandchildren; and when people challenge or criticize us, when our plans for growth are frustrated by members or elders who are not on board with us, then we become angry, sulk, give ourselves to self-pity, or seek to satisfy our flesh in some other sordid way.
May I suggest that we are filled with pride, a pride that is so deep, so pervasive that we rarely grieve over our sin, rarely weep over the lost and the broken and suffering people both within and without our churches. Repentance of fruit sins does not go deeply enough, and until we cut our sins off at the root, then we will continue the cycle of sin, confession, repentance, sin. I am not saying that we can reach perfection, and I am not saying that we will eradicate the sin of pride, but surely Biblical repentance means keeping our sin in check for longer than five or ten minutes.
Second, instead of Davidson’s burden and grief over the spiritual declension in the Church of Scotland leading him to despair, disgust, or anger it moved him boldly and fearlessly to action. This was true in his own church shortly after his arrival as pastor, and then a few years later when he observed the lack of spiritual earnestness in the Presbyterian ministers of Scotland. Are we not guilty of a party spirit in the PCA? We tend to follow certain men or movements, secretly or not so secretly condemning or speaking disparagingly of those who are not with us. Are we not guilty of harshness toward the Sonship men, the Federal Vision men, the Seeker service men, the contemporary music men, the emerging church men, the broadly evangelical men, the neo-Puritan men? As we fire off e mails and engage in criticism on various blogs, are we not denying the very unity we possess in Christ by the Spirit, and by our doctrinal standards? Can we not begin to see how desperately we need the outpouring of the Holy Spirit and put aside our secondary differences?
Third, using Scripture through the convicting work of the Holy Spirit, he closely and specifically detailed ministerial sin, calling for specific action- repentance and covenant renewal. Without question the Holy Spirit chose, in His sovereign good pleasure, to come upon Davidson and the rest of the church ministers on that wonderful day in March, 1596, but the point here is that Davidson made himself available and the Spirit chose to work through him. James tells us to draw near to God and He will draw near to us. We sinners are to cleanse our hands. We who are double-minded are to purify our hearts. Are you willing to pay the price for revival? Are you willing to suffer reproach and falsehood? Are you willing to labor and suffer, if need be? Are you willing to be a fool for Jesus’ sake? Are you willing to forgo the pleasures and comfort of stress free evenings, working only forty or fifty hours a week, if God calls you to it? Are you willing to forsake some family time for the sake of the kingdom? I know our families are a high priority but are we not guilty in our day sometimes of spending too much time with our families?
And fourth, Davidson was known for true spiritual piety and holiness. His words did not ring hollow to those who heard him reprimand them for their spiritual deadness and carelessness. They knew that Davidson walked the talk. They knew that he had first searched his own heart, seen the sin there, repented, renewing his own covenant with the Triune God, and then, filled with the Spirit went forth to speak to his brethren. Are you careless in your walk with Christ? Are you too close to another woman? What about your personal finances? Could anyone bring accusations against you concerning women and money which could stick? Are you in submission to your fellow elders? Do you have anyone in your life who asks you the hard questions, with whom you are completely honest? Do you go into the pulpit on Sundays with liberty of conscience, knowing that you are right with God, your wife, your children, your elders and deacons? Are you afraid to say hard things from the pulpit for fear of losing your job and income? Until these things are addressed, you will not have the freedom to be bold as a lion. You will hold back, but when you are free in Christ to do what God has called you to do, there will come a power and usefulness to God that others will immediately recognize.
I urge you to read this carefully and share it with another pastor or some of your elders. Ask the Holy Spirit to work deeply in your heart, showing you the root sin of pride in something of its wickedness. Ask the Spirit to help you repent, and run to Christ for refuge.
John Livingston at the Kirk of Shotts, 1630
By 1630 Scotland was in need of another revival, a time of visitation by God where a whole community would be soaked or saturated with the presence of God. A visitation of God had occurred five years earlier in the neighboring town of Stewarton under the ministry of David Dickson and that revival no doubt influenced and moved the people to seek one in Shotts. The Scottish Presbyterian tradition of seasonal communion services, where several days were set aside for people from surrounding communities to come together for soul searching preaching, calling for repentance and conversion, was scheduled for June for the town of Shotts, not far from Glasgow. A few godly Scottish women of royalty, who were sympathetic toward the cause of the Covenanters, those who wanted Scottish independence from England, prevailed upon the local pastor at Shotts, John Home, to invite two powerful Scottish preachers for the occasion- David Dickson whom God used so powerfully a few years before at Stewarton, and seventy year old Robert Bruce, a man whom some said was the human instrument God used to bring conversion to thousands of people. Instead of the services ending on Sunday with communion for those who could give evidence of true and sound conversion, the leaders decided to stay another day, having a closing service of thanksgiving on Monday.
That Sunday evening a number of ministers, elders, and leading women, including both Marchioness of Hamilton and Lady Culross met and prayed all night for the Holy Spirit to be poured out on the people gathered the next day. We do not have a record of the prayer meeting but we do know they prayed all night, no doubt asking for the Holy Spirit to visit them powerfully in this last service of the communion season. As the prayer meeting ended, with each going his own way for their personal devotional times, Lady Culross closed the curtains on her bed and could be heard praying earnestly, with great liberty in the Spirit, for three hours. At the end of this time she strongly urged Pastor Home to invite young John Livingston to preach the last service. Livingston was only twenty-seven years old and not ordained. His lack of ordination was no fault of his own, but Archbishop William Laud, who was so determined to root out Calvinism in England and Presbyterian Scotland, was unwilling to ordain him because he considered Livingston a dangerous man. Interference of Anglican England in the affairs of the Scottish Church was very pronounced at the time. Though he was not ordained, Livingston was known throughout the region as a powerful preacher of the doctrines of grace, but he nonetheless was mortified at the prospect of preaching before such a large crowd on such a solemn occasion, and before these older men, Dickson and Bruce, whom God had so powerfully used the previous days, and for many years in the past. But he agreed and then proceeded to go out into the fields to pray and prepare his heart to preach. In such occasions Livingston says he spent little time in preparing his mind, in thinking through what he was to say. Instead he focused on his heart, seeking to fill himself up with Christ, trusting the Holy Spirit to prompt him on what he ought to say, seeking the Spirit’s presence and power. However the more he prayed and thought through his daunting task, the more terrified he became. He felt totally unworthy and utterly weak. Finally he decided that he could not go through with his preaching and began walking away, in the opposite direction from the town, passing several who were coming for the thanksgiving service. As he walked away from town he sensed the Holy Spirit being grieved over his flight, impressing upon him that he was not trusting God. He became fearful of God’s chastisement and repented, literally turning around and walking back to the town of Shotts.
Over 1000 people gathered for the service, coming from many miles away, and they sat on the grass that sloped down to the Kirk, a sort of natural amphitheatre. Livingston took as his text Ezekiel 36:25, 26, “Then I will sprinkle clean water on you, and you will be clean; I will cleanse you from all your filthiness and from all your idols. Moreover, I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit within you; and I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh.” He spent ninety minutes unpacking the meaning of the text, seeking to bring conversion to the lost, warning them of the wrath of God. At one point in his sermon it began to rain and the people instinctively drew their coats over them to protect themselves from the rain. Livingston noticed this and leaped on this to make a graphic illustration which the Holy Spirit brought with great power upon the hearers. He believed God was impressing upon him to say, “What a mercy it is that the Lord sifts that rain through the heavens to us, and does not rain down fire and brimstone as He did on Sodom and Gomorrah.” As Livingston was moving to the application of his sermon, warning people to flee from the wrath of God, exhorting them to believe the gospel, he says that he had a freedom and liberty, a melting of his heart, he had never before experienced. His application and exhortation went for another hour. Eyewitnesses claim a strange and unusual emotion came over this vast congregation. God had come down through the preaching of the gospel and an estimated 500 were converted that day. Three young men on their way to Edinburgh for some fun stopped at Shotts to rest their horses and decided to attend the preaching service. They were soundly converted and remained faithful followers of Christ for the rest of their lives.
John Livingston, while a powerful preacher, much used of God, said that only one other time in his entire ministry, did he experience anything like what happened at Shotts that day, June 21,1630.
What can we learn from John Livingston’s experience at Kirk of Shotts? I will mention six things for our consideration. First, be available. In great fear, with a desire to flee, Livingstone eventually listened to God, repented, and did what God called him to do. When presented with a gospel opportunity, whether it is one on one or preaching at another church, preaching a funeral for someone you do not know, then take it. You don’t need to pray about it, just say, “Yes,” and move toward the opportunity unless God stops you for some reason. May I suggest that we rise every morning and say, “God I am available today to speak to anyone you bring my way about the gospel. I trust you to put me in circumstances where I can share Christ with someone, and when that opportunity comes, grant me the power of the Holy Spirit to speak Jesus clearly to that person.” Move toward opportunities to preach or evangelize. Never run from them. Which brings me to a series of questions for your consideration- do you spend too much time in your office, in front of your computer screen? Do you spend too little time in prayer for the lost? When is the last time you shared the gospel one on one with someone on the street, in your neighborhood, outside the role of your “professional” ministry?
Second, allow your sense of call to override any fear or discouragement in ministry. Since you know God has called you to ministry, since you know others have confirmed that call, then never allow fear or discouragement to silence you. You have experienced opposition and discouragement, those close to you who at one time stood behind you in your ministry, who then deserted you. You know the fear of man and the desire to be respected by your church people and those outside the church. When that respect seems to waver is it not true that you sometimes feel like quitting, entertaining the notion that perhaps you are not called to gospel ministry? In such cases, remind yourself of God’s internal call to ministry, confirmed in an outward call by the laying on of hands by the Presbytery.
Third, prepare your heart to preach. Yes, prepare your mind. You must be diligent in study, doing all the sermon preparation you have always done. But go further. Trust the Holy Spirit to grab your heart, to possess and dominate you. Honor the Holy Spirit. Be very quick to repent when you believe you have grieved, quenched, or resisted Him in any way. Spend a great deal of your Saturdays in prayer and meditation, asking the Holy Spirit to make real the application of your sermon to your own heart and soul. Then speak from that which fills your heart. Clearly that is what Livingston did that day at the Kirk of Shotts.
Fourth, trust God to bring to your mind, from the heart, what He wants you to say. Be sensitive to His promptings as you preach, and the best way to do so is to preach without notes. You probably are like me in that early in my ministry I went into the pulpit with a fairly lengthy and detailed sermon outline. But the longer I preached the shorter my outline became until finally one day about four years ago my wife said, “Why don’t you preach without notes?” I admit the first time I tried it I felt like a man swimming in the ocean without a life preserver. I must say, however, that the extra work in preparation and the sense of nakedness in standing there in front of my people without any sermon notes, is far exceeded by the liberty and freedom I feel in preaching. I think I am a better preacher because of it. One member in our church put it this way, “To see an attorney standing before a jury, reading from notes does not have the same power as it does seeing him look the jurors in the eye and make an impassioned, well constructed, logical argument. The same is true with a preacher.” This is not less, but more preparation and I believe the great preachers of the past almost exclusively preached without notes. I challenge you to move toward it.
Fifth, a life of personal and private holiness is essential for Spirit filled ministry. An emptying of self is vital. Pascal said that pride takes us away from God and lust keeps us anchored to the world. He also said that putting away self-will is the only thing which will bring contentment and when we are killing self-will then discontentment will not be a problem. Search your heart. Ask God to show you the selfishness and self-seeking, the self-worship which plagues your life. Ask your wife to show it to you, and receive her rebuke gladly. What do you do in your private times? Is God pleased with what you watch on television, what you view on the internet, what you read, what kind of music you listen to? Are you harsh or unkind in your speech with your wife or children?
Evan Roberts, the man whom God used in the Welsh revival of 1904, 1905, told a class of young people at his home church, the first night of this mighty revival, that they ought to do four things. First, they were to search their hearts for any sin and when the Holy Spirit brought it to their mind, they must be quick to remedy the situation through confession, repentance, and restitution. Second, they were to rid themselves of any questionable habits. For me, I had to admit that I waste time on the nights that I am home mindlessly watching Miami CSI or the Boston Red Sox. I am not saying that we cannot watch television, but I am simply asking, “How do you unwind at night? Are you wasting time or relaxing? Are you feeding your flesh or are you giving your mind and body a rest?” You must decide. What are those questionable habits you have? You need to put them away if you want to be used in revival. Third, obey the Holy Spirit in whatever He is prompting you to do. If you sense the need to pray, then do it right then. If you sense the need to call someone, then do it right away. And fourth, be bold in gospel witness. Ask the Holy Spirit to empower and embolden you and take every opportunity He gives you to witness the glory of Christ.
And sixth, bold, direct, specific, heart searching, conscience exposing preaching of warnings, exhorting people that very moment to close with Christ is essential. Practice your specific application. Go deeply with it. Don’t let people off the hook with a joke or light comment. Make them squirm under the convicting power of the Spirit. A good place to look at heart searching application is the sermons of Samuel Davies. On one occasion Davies closed a sermon on John 3:16 by saying, “I demand a response. You must respond to what God is calling you to do.” He then gave an illustration of a Roman ambassador who was working out a peace settlement with a local leader whom the Romans had recently conquered. The man was unwilling to discuss the matter, continually stalling for more time. Finally the Roman ambassador drew a circle in the dirt around them and said, “You are not leaving this circle until you give me an answer.”
Is it not true that a major difference between preaching and teaching is that teaching tends to leave it at the indicative, and does not move forward to the imperative? Certainly we must begin with the indicative, and clearly Machen had it right, that the difference between Christianity and liberalism is that Christianity begins with the indicative (historical fact of what God had done in Christ) while liberalism has only the imperative, trying to get us to do something. But true Biblical preaching, after laying down the indicative, must move to the imperative. Should we not have clearly in mind the objective we hope to elicit from our hearers? Think long and hard about your specific application, drawn, of course, from the text from which you are preaching. The great preachers were all masters of application.
May God have His way with all of us! May we seek God earnestly, humbling ourselves under His mighty hand, that He may exalt us at the proper time.
William M’Culloch of Cambuslang, Scotland, 1742
The small Presbyterian Church at Cambuslang, near Glascow, Scotland had been without a pastor for over sixteen years when young William M’Culloch became her pastor in 1631. In fact no child under the age of sixteen in the church had been taught the Shorter Catechism when M’Culloch came as pastor. On top of this there had been a long rift between several on the Session, and the spiritual climate and ignorance of spiritual things was so pronounced that M’Culloch refused to serve the Lord’s Supper for the first three years of his pastorate. We also know that M’Culloch had serious reservations about his suitableness for pastoral ministry, for he confided in an older minister, just a few years after coming to Cambuslang, that he felt totally inadequate for ministry, and in fact had run away from his church just prior to his ordination.
It is also important to note that the skepticism of David Hume and the deadening effects of the Scottish Enlightenment had infected the people of Scotland and they were therefore a godless, debauched people who had no fear of God before their eyes. The benefits of the Puritan revolution had long since dissipated during the killing times in Scotland at the hands of the British army against the Scottish Covenanters in the 1680’s. Thus the influence of the gospel was severely eclipsed by the time God raised up Whitefield, John and Charles Wesley, Howell Harris, Daniel Rowland, and William M’Culloch in the late 1730’s to be His mighty instruments for revival in the British Isles.
While M’Culloch was a devout and godly man, learned, and well versed in Scripture and theology, his own son tells us that he was at best an average preacher. In fact during the annual Communion season which would last for five days, with preachers preaching continuously all day long, when it came time for M’Culloch to preach, the people found it a convenient time to get up and go for a little refreshment or rest. He was not profound in content, nor eloquent in his sermon delivery.
But by 1740 M’Culloch had a deep burden for the salvation of his people. He had heard of the mighty things of God in England, Wales, and America under the preaching of George Whitefield. He had corresponded with both Whitefield and Jonathan Edwards of Northampton, MA, being deeply moved and encouraged by their reports on the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. He had attended several meetings held by Whitefield in Glasgow in 1741 and seen remarkable conversions and was profoundly inspired by what God had done there. He wrote Whitefield, saying that he knew of at least fifty truly converted through his preaching, ten of whom were members in his own church. M’Culloch began to pray regularly and earnestly, searching his own heart for sin, confessing it and repenting of it, being filled up regularly with the glory of Christ and the power of His gospel. He developed a holy zeal for the glory of God to visit the people of his community. He began a prayer meeting which a number of his Elders and others from the church attended regularly. He says that the people were wonderfully given to public and private prayer for a visitation of the Holy Spirit. He began preaching in late 1740 on the theme of the rebirth, explaining the nature of it, the necessity of it, and the means of gaining it. He spent a year plowing the fallow ground of the hearts of his cold, lethargic, ignorant people. Finally, in late 1741, his church was experiencing numerical growth with many who were awakened by the Spirit. In early 1742, after a petition had been circulated through the town, where people were requesting regular preaching, M’Culloch began preaching nearly everyday. On February 18, 1742 M’Culloch preached on Jeremiah 23:6, “And this is His name whereby he shall be called, the Lord our Righteousness.” Nothing unusual happened during the sermon but as he closed the meeting in prayer, perhaps due to frustration or sincere grief over their hardheartedness, M’Culloch prayed, “O Lord, who has believed our message and to whom has the arm of the Lord been revealed? Where is the fruit of my labor among this people?” Immediately after saying this, the room was filled with weeping and great anguish. About fifty were wounded in their souls and went next door to the manse where M’Culloch spoke with each one about their spiritual condition, praying with and for them to be given the forgiveness of their sins. For the rest of his life William M’Culloch always observed the Sunday nearest February 18 as a remembrance of the great work God began that day. From February until August, a period of 120 days, there were an average of five preaching meetings weekly. The burden of daily preaching and counseling the awakened must have been a huge weight for M’Culloch to carry, but he seems to have risen to the occasion. God seemingly gave him supernatural strength and stamina to stay at this work. It is also true that a number of ministers from nearby towns helped him with the counseling and preaching.
By the spring of 1742 word was spreading far and wide about the revival, about how God was using an obscure, ordinary preacher in powerful ways. The preaching services began attracting thousands of people and the number of those converted had grown to over three hundred. Some services attracted as many as ten thousand people. About this time M’Culloch wrote George Whitefield, asking him to come and preach during the Communion season of mid July. Whitefield agreed and preached several times leading up to the finale of the Communion season on July 11. Whitefield had been in Scotland for six months by this time, his second campaign there, preaching to even larger crowds than his first visit. By the time Whitefield preached on July 11 some have estimated the crowd to be in excess of fifty thousand people, but Whitefield himself reckoned the crowd at thirty thousand people. After preaching Whitefield suggested to M’Culloch and his Session that they ought to have another Communion season very shortly, striking while the iron was hot, so to speak, since the Holy Spirit was so obviously at work there. Though this was not the custom of the Presbyterian Church to serve Communion with such a short interval, the Session agreed and Whitefield came back on August 15 and preached to around thirty thousand again. Crowds came from nearby towns and from as far away as England and Ireland. The people were generally affected in two ways. First, many were deeply burdened by their sin, understanding their just condemnation for the first time, crying out to be saved. Others who already were in Christ were overcome with the joy of their salvation, finding their hearts wonderfully moved and energized to worship and serve God more fervently.
To be sure some mocked the proceedings, saying they were nothing but raw emotionalism orchestrated by Whitefield and M’Culloch. Others who were opposed to the meetings grudgingly admitted that the number of those soundly converted, transformed by the preaching during the Cambuslang revival, were in the thousands, that the results of the revival lasted for another thirty years.
In our desire to see a mighty work of God in our day in our beloved denomination and beyond, what can we glean from the life of William M’Culloch and the Cambuslang revival? I will mention four things for your consideration. First, revival and awakening very often begins with one man who has a burden. M’Culloch had heard of the awakening in Northampton, and he had seen it with his own eyes in Glasgow. He was hungry for it in his own locale. His faith was ignited, and he was energized by the prospect of revival. M’Culloch turned his burden into fervent prayer and white hot preaching. He gathered a number of people around him who would pray for revival, and these apparently were not forty-five minutes of sharing and fifteen minutes of prayer. Some went all night, coupled with fasting. These prayer meetings were not haphazard but regular, consistent disciplines in which the people freely engaged. Revival typically begins with one man and a burden for the glory of God.
Second, one does not need to be a gifted, eloquent preacher in revival. The Holy Spirit comes upon whom He desires, when He desires. God loves to use the foolishness of the gospel to confound the wise, the weakness of the gospel to confound the strong, that men may not boast in themselves but in God. The man with a burden for revival, however, wants to preach as much as he can, knowing that God’s appointed means for conversion and growth in grace is the preaching of the gospel. Note also the themes used in such preaching- “You must be born again.” Such preaching destroys the self-confidence of the audience, stripping away the layers of self-righteousness and self-exaltation. Revival preachers must have supreme confidence in God’s appointed means- preaching Christ crucified, that which exalts God and debases man. They must believe the preacher’s role, as the Puritans used to say, is to afflict the comfortable and to comfort the afflicted.
Third, one whom God uses in revival must be willing to pay the price for it; and what I have in mind here, based on M’Culloch’s ministry, is the total abandonment of rights to his own schedule. M’Culloch preached almost daily, counseled with each one who was awakened, and maintained his regular pastoral duties; yet we are told that he was energized by the work. Could it be that we are far too calculating in the use of our time, mapping out the hours we willingly give to ministry, not entertaining the possibility that God may require far more of us for a season? Are we willing to suffer the physical and emotional exhaustion of heaven sent revival? Are we willing to seize the moment, if and when it comes, suspending our own hobbies and private or familial amusements for the sake of others souls?
And fourth, the men whom God uses in revival are catholic in spirit. They are willing to work with other men, even those whose theology may not be as accurate as we would like. Though M’Culloch was a Presbyterian and was surrounded by Presbyterian ministers who came to help him in the revival, it is also clear that he was first deeply affected by the Congregational minister Jonathan Edwards and the Anglican minister George Whitefield. Though it is clear that all three of these men held to the Calvinistic doctrines of grace and preached them uncompromisingly, it is also clear that all three represented the three variations of church polity. Edwards was a Congregationalist, believing in the rule of the members of each local church. M’Culloch was a Presbyterian and thus held to Elder rule at the Sessional, Presbytery, Synod, and General Assembly levels. And Whitefield was an Anglican who embraced prelacy, the church being headed by the King or Queen of England. Even a nominal understanding of England and Scottish history of the time reveals a deep, abiding fracture between the two peoples, going back to the cruel persecution by Bishop Laud of the Scottish Presbyterians a century before. But men who love the gospel, who labor together for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, put secondary issues to the side, choosing instead to focus on those things on which they agree, the saving of souls through the preaching of the blessed gospel. Though we may not agree with others on how they worship, how they pray or preach, how they govern, if they hold to the basic creedal formulations of Nicea or Constantinople, then surely we ought to be able to work with them, putting aside these lesser things for the progress of the gospel and the establishing of Christ’s kingdom.
So, where in your personal life do you need to improve? Do you have a burden for revival? Is this the ache of your soul? Do you find yourself utterly desperate for a visitation of the Spirit? Are you troubled by the worldliness, division, strife, and indifference in our churches? Do you have trouble, as I do, in getting people to pray diligently for revival? Do you have trouble getting people to share the gospel with the lost? Do you find that you lack boldness in one-on-one sharing of the gospel? Have you lost confidence in the simple preaching of Christ crucified to affect and change our country? Have you given up hope that God will visit us with His power? Are you ever outraged at how God’s name is compromised by false worship, through false religions? Are you ever indignant at how Islam, Mormonism, and the Jehovah Witnesses deny our blessed Lord Jesus His deity? Have you lost your vision for what God can do through you and your church? Are you physically and emotionally exhausted, ready to quit? Do you find yourself listening to that inner voice of unbelief, silently doubting, not expecting anything of significance to happen through your ministry? Are you resigned simply to take a pay check and punch the time clock until the day of your retirement comes so that you can play with your grandchildren all day long or gather sea shells by the sea shore?
I confess to you that more times than not I am lazy, worldly, unbelieving, cold, hard- hearted, glorying in my secret and recurring sins, not giving much thought to these high and lofty ideals. May God deliver me from myself, and may He deliver you from yourself! Would you please pray fervently for me, as I pray for you? Let us pray that God will stir us up and then our Sessions and our people, to storm the gates of heaven, beseeching God the Holy Spirit to rip open heaven and come down with great power to convict the lost and to regenerate them, to breathe life into our cold, worldly, complacent churches.
Jonathan Edwards and the Great Awakening in New England, 1741
In October, 1703, Jonathan Edwards was born in East Windsor, Connecticut, on the banks of the Connecticut River, where his father, Timothy, was the Congregational pastor for fifty years. Following the completion of his education at Yale in his early twenties, Jonathan became an Assistant Pastor under his grandfather, Solomon Stoddard, at the Congregational Church of Northampton, Massachusetts; a few years later, at his grandfather’s death, he took over as the sole pastor of that flock. In 1735 God visited Northampton with a revival that by Edwards’ estimation brought conversion to nearly the whole town. That same year, across the Atlantic Ocean, God regenerated George Whitefield, Howell Harris, and Daniel Rowland, all within six months of each other; and each became a mighty instrument of revival through his itinerant preaching. By the fall of 1739, George Whitefield was in New York and Philadelphia for the second time, preaching to huge crowds. It was because of the mighty work God was doing in these cities that Whitefield delayed his trip to Bethesda in Savannah. By no means, however, were he and Edwards the only men of their day to be used powerfully by God in preaching for conversion and awakening. William and Gilbert Tennent are relatively well-known preachers whom God used, but there are many others, too: Eleazar Wheelock, pastor at Lebanon, Connecticut, and later the founder of Dartmouth College, who preached “a hundred more sermons than there are days in a year” during this time period, largely in an area north of East Windsor, not far from his home at Lebanon; Benjamin Pomeroy in the same region; Jonathan Parsons in and around Lyme, Connecticut; Benjamin Trumbull and Thomas Prince in and around Boston.
In Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Long Island, Hartford, Northampton and down through the middle colonies, people were awakened by the thousands—deeply concerned about their souls, living with a clear sense of eternity, wanting to know what they must do to be right with God. The obvious question is, “Why?” What was the catalyst that brought the Great Awakening? Some have suggested that America was ripe for it, that the atmosphere was like a powder keg, that political and social forces were at work which made the time right for such interest. Others have noted the celebrity status afforded George Whitefield by multitudes, suggesting that he was the first rock star in America. Still others have suggested that manipulation—auto-suggestion—is the reason these preachers were able to gain such a huge following.
I am sure you agree with me that none of these explanations ring true. There is no prior indication that America was ripe for revival and awakening. In fact, Christianity to that point in America and the British Isles was in a terrible state of decline; it is well documented that debauchery was extensive, fueled by the deadening effects of Deism, the religion of the day.[1] There was no political uprising at the time. This was still over twenty years before the move toward independence became an issue in the Colonies and over ten years before the trauma of the French and Indian War would come upon the people; they were living in relative ease and prosperity. And while it is true that Whitefield was immensely popular and had amazing oratorical skill and eloquence, it is also important to note that many other preachers of varied styles and skill were also powerfully used of God in their preaching. Furthermore, even Whitefield did not enjoy the same level of interest and power in his preaching every time and every where he preached. There is some other explanation for the Great Awakening.
Both George Whitefield and Jonathan Edwards understood clearly that the Great Awakening was a movement of the Holy Spirit, descending upon the people according to the sovereign plan of God. Whitefield wrote Edwards in November, 1739, expressing a hope to visit him within six months or so, having heard of the mighty things God had done in Northampton. He said that he was deeply grieved that so many were perishing due to lack of knowledge, that he was willing to suffer anything so that more would be brought home to Christ. Finally in October, 1740, Whitefield did arrive at Northampton and spent the weekend staying with the Edwards’ family and preaching numerous times at the church. The people, including Edwards himself, were deeply affected by Whitefield’s preaching, weeping and grieving over their sin and rejoicing at the glory of God in Christ. Late on Sunday afternoon, Whitefield left with Edwards, and the two men made their way down to Suffield where Whitefield preached, then down the Connecticut River to preach in Hartford, Wethersfield, and Middletown. Thousands of people gathered daily to hear him.
By the winter of 1741, the preaching of Jonathan Edwards was carried along by the Holy Spirit in revival which continued unabated throughout the entire year. Edwards was frequently called upon by pastors or others to come to their towns and preach Christ. During that one year alone we know he preached at Suffield, Boston, Hartford, Wethersfield, Plymouth, Middleborough, and of course Enfield, Connecticut, the site of his most famous sermon of all, “Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God.”
What kind of response did these sermons evoke? We see two. First, there was a deep and profound awareness that people without Christ were on the road to destruction, that they were vessels of wrath, fitted for destruction. Many hearers were under deep distress, being convinced that they were lost, under condemnation for their sin, looking at the prospect of eternity in hell, apart from the saving grace of God. One minister said that he saw more distressed for their souls in one week than he had seen in the previous twenty-four years of his ministry. Doubters may explain this as crowd dynamics, people caught up in the emotion of the moment and simply following what everyone else was doing. This may partially explain the movement, but certainly cannot explain why so many were affected. After all, not everyone was pro revival. Many scoffed at it. The second general response was of profound joy and gratitude for what God had done for His people, a deep sense of His love for them through the Lord Jesus Christ. So, on the one hand there was a general fear of God, hatred and grief over sin, an overwhelming desire to be reconciled to God; and on the other hand believers were rejoicing, living with a boldness in speaking of what He had done in and through them.
Edwards observed that the Great Awakening continued throughout 1741 but began to ebb the next year, and it never returned to that level of interest and power in succeeding years. By 1750 the people of Edwards’ church voted him out as their pastor, and Edwards moved to the western frontier at Stockbridge to serve as a missionary to the Housatonic Indians and local settlers.
What can we learn from this brief overview of Jonathan Edwards and his part in the Great Awakening? What can help us become men whom God may use in revival in our day? Several things bear our consideration. First, each of these men whom God used in this revival preached the Calvinistic doctrines of grace. Arminian theology was not an issue at this time; Arminianism was unknown in New England. Just prior to this time John Wesley had preached in Georgia, but with no positive impact. Even then, the Arminianism of Wesley was tame compared to what came around at the beginning of the 19th century in the Second Great Awakening. These preachers mentioned earlier had varying styles and abilities (more about that later), but all were in agreement on doctrine. Each believed in the absolute sovereignty of God in salvation and all of life. They believed in the utter depravity and inability of man to believe on Christ for salvation. They believed Jesus to be the only Savior, the One and only Savior of sinners who is exalted, sitting at the right hand of God the Father. They believed in the sovereign work of the Holy Spirit, knowing that He is like the wind, blowing when and where He chooses. Consequently they preached with an utter dependence upon the Holy Spirit to convict and convert as He willed. They likewise stressed in their preaching the character of God as holy, majestic, transcendent, a God who is angry with the sinner every day because of his sin. They labored hard in their preaching, using the Law of God to convince people of their sin and inability to stand before God. They had complete confidence in the Spirit’s power to convince people of their sin and need for Christ. Furthermore, they believed that preaching the gospel and follow-up work with individuals is God’s appointed means of saving the elect. It appears that they all preached with a great deal of solemnity. None used the modern-day altar call, and they did not bother to count decisions, believing that only God knew for sure which ones were truly saved, that only time would tell which were soundly converted. They did, however, press upon people the need to decide for Christ that very moment. They called people to close with Christ, to repent and believe the gospel. They preached with searching application, moving on the consciences of their hearers, repeatedly asking, “Are you sure you are saved? What evidence is there? Are you sure you are in Christ?”
Second, God used men of varying gifts and styles in preaching during the Great Awakening. It is well documented that Whitefield preached with unusual animation, gestures, voice modulation, imagination, and pathos. Perhaps he sometimes went too far in using his oratorical gifts to work a crowd up to great emotion. No doubt many came simply to be entertained by him. Others, however, preached quite differently. Edwards, for example, used hardly any hand gestures at all. His voice was weak and unimpressive. He had poor eye contact. An eyewitness at the famous sermon in Enfield says that Edwards stared at the rope on the bell tower during his entire sermon. Nevertheless, his sermons were of profound depth, tightly reasoned in their arguments, filled with vivid word pictures. Gilbert Tennent cared little about delivery or style and was rather coarse in his use of gestures. His preaching was not soothing to the ear.
Yet all three of these men were powerfully used of God in the Great Awakening. Furthermore, they were used effectually at different times in different places. There seems to be no pattern of God’s using one man more effectively with a certain type of person (those more educated, less educated, more refined, less refined). I mention this because the coming of the Holy Spirit on preachers overcomes any human or intellectual weakness we may have.
To go further, by way of application—the time in which we live, the ignorance of people about the Bible, the post-modern mindset of those who deny any form of absolute truth, the multi-ethnic mosaic of 21st–century America, the utter disregard of non-churched people for Christianity, the perceived irrelevance, even disdain so many have toward preaching, and the dearth of preaching in our day in no way serve as obstacles if and when God decides to come down in Holy Ghost power. The deadness and worldliness of the American church, the distraction of our entertainment ethos will not stand against the outpouring of the Holy Spirit. When He comes in power multitudes of people will feel about our preaching the way they felt about Edwards’ preaching. One teen who heard him said that he felt as though when Edwards finished, the great Judge would come and begin the separation between the sheep and the goats.
What does this mean for you and me, men who are seeking to do the best we can in our preaching, but who admittedly know little to nothing of this sort of power? The level of skill or eloquence is not the issue. It seems to me the issue for us is this: Do we have confidence in the preaching of the gospel? Are we laboring faithfully, expectantly? Are we doing our part in sermon preparation? By this I mean, are we grappling with the text, allowing it to challenge our own hearts, allowing God dynamically to work its meaning into our own lives, going forth into our pulpits with a full assurance that God has had His way with us, that He has clearly spoken to us? Do we preach from an overflow of heart? Are we doing all we can to keep short accounts with God concerning our sin? Do we allow roots of bitterness to spring up in our hearts toward anyone, including our wives, Ruling Elders, staff members, difficult church members, or children, robbing us of power in preaching because we have grieved the Holy Spirit? Have we lost confidence in preaching? I know we are not all equally gifted, but we all are called to preach, set aside by our Presbyteries to that task. We hear much talk about how our world has changed, no longer wanting preaching. The world has never wanted preaching until the Spirit comes down. We hear people say that perhaps dialogue is more palatable to people today, that forceful, soul-searching, white-hot preaching just won’t fly today. Of course it won’t. It never has, until the Spirit comes down. What are we to do? Keep preaching in the power and fullness of the Holy Spirit. Keep trusting God’s ordinary means of grace, word and sacrament. We are to live holy lives, to walk humbly before God, to labor and suffer with the gospel, willing to be fools for Christ’s sake, hopefully fighting the good fight of faith, finishing the course so that we may receive the crown of righteousness which the Lord, our righteous Judge, will award to us and to all who have loved Christ’s appearing.
George Whitefield And His Courage In The Face Of Opposition
George Whitefield returned to England from his first journey in America in November, 1738. Prior to his departure for the New World a few years before, he had encountered the first of many, many instances of persecution. This came mainly from ordained clergy who spoke against him to their congregations and refused to allow him their churches in order to preach. Perhaps some of this was motivated by jealousy, but largely this came because of Whitefield’s message. He unashamedly preached the new birth, something which was unheard of in his day in England. After the death of Cromwell in 1658 and the restoration of Charles II a couple of years later, the Puritan revolution was finished, and in its place came eighty years of preachers who preached nothing more than morality, an outward conformity to the teachings of Christ. Not surprisingly personal and communal holiness was at a low ebb. But God raised up Whitefield, the Wesley’s, John Cennick, Daniel Rowland, and Howell Harris to preach the new birth.
Whitefield’s return to London in early December, 1738 was met with disdain by many of the local clergymen. He was turned down by five of them the first day he asked for permission to preach in their churches. He finally found a few which opened their doors to him but the opposition continued. When refused access, there is no indication that Whitefield was angry nor did he speak out against these men. He simply went on preaching wherever opportunities were opened to him.
When one considers the boldness and persuasiveness of Whitefield’s preaching it is somewhat surprising to find that he shunned conflict. Controversy was distasteful to him. He did all he could to avoid it. Early in his ministry he began to see that many of the men in the Church of England whom he admired were against him and his preaching of the new birth. His temperament suited him best to be a peacemaker, to bring opposing sides together in compromise, but his preaching bred division within the church. Whitefield increasingly became the source for ridicule and slander in magazines and newspapers. A sermon was published in Wales, taking Whitefield and his doctrine of eternal security to task, warning people not to listen to him, saying that his doctrine led to spiritual pride and drove people further from heaven. Whitefield never responded to these attacks but received them quietly, though with a broken heart. As a member of the Holy Club at Oxford, Whitefield practiced daily journal entries which required total honesty and candidness. He therefore wrote without the thought of others reading his entries. Thus it is quite revealing to see how he wrote concerning his persecutors, “Blessed be God, I can say, ‘I love mine enemies.’. . .Read a pamphlet written against me by a clergyman, I bless God, without any emotion. Prayed most heartily for the author. . .Went this morning and received the Sacrament at the hands of the minister who wrote against me. Blessed be God, I do not feel the least remonstrance against, but a love for him. . .Oh that I could do him any good.”
Then there was the time that he was invited to preach at St. Margaret’s Church, Westminster, early one morning. He was delayed in getting there and when he arrived the preaching was soon to begin. There was another minister there, believing he was to preach, but those wanting to hear Whitefield pressed the local pastor to allow him to preach. During the last hymn, prior to the sermon, the pastor came and brought Whitefield to the pulpit, and he preached with great power. Later the Reverend Richard Venn published a very unfavorable account of what happened, making it sound as though Whitefield pushed his way into the pulpit. This account was circulated widely and stuck to Whitefield for many years, though he was completely innocent of any wrongdoing. He never tried to clear his name nor to explain his take on what happened, though others certainly tried to clear his name.
I already mentioned Whitefield’s inherent desire to refrain from controversy but when something surfaced which needed attention he would not fail to speak. He and Gilbert Tennent noted the plethora of what they perceived to be unconverted men in the ministry, and they preached about the dangers of an unconverted ministry. Keep in mind that both England and America had an absence of nearly eighty years of solid preaching on the new birth. It comes as little surprise then to find preachers preaching various forms of moralism, likening the Christian life to little more than outward conformity to the Sermon on the Mount or loving one’s neighbor. Absent was clear teaching on the depravity of man, the reality of hell, and the necessity of faith and repentance. Though an unconverted ministry was a problem in England and the middle Colonies it was an institutional problem in New England. Many years before Solomon Stoddard, the grandfather of Jonathan Edwards and a much respected minister, was a major proponent of the Half-Way Covenant which admitted unbelievers to the Lord’s Table and church membership. Before long the church admitted men to be pastors who were unable to point to sincere conversion. Stoddard’s view was that even an unconverted minister could do some good. This view was fully accepted by almost all ministers in New England so you can imagine the uproar when Whitefield condemned such a practice! Their warning about the unconverted ministry met immediate and vehement opposition by many pastors and laymen, especially in Boston. Whitefield carried the same theme to Harvard where he preached twice on the dangers of an unconverted ministry. He also preached the same message at Yale. Keep in mind that both Yale and Harvard were training grounds for ministers so Whitefield clearly had in mind an evangelistic message, calling these young men to faith and repentance. It is also worth noting that young David Brainerd heard Whitefield when he was at Yale and Brainerd later said in passing that he thought one of his tutors had no more grace than a chair. He also wondered why the President of Yale did not fall down dead for fining the evangelical men for the zeal. Brainerd was expelled from Yale and never graduated, barring him from an ordained ministry in Connecticut, forcing him to become a missionary to the Housatonic and Iroquois Indians. It is also interesting to note that sixteen years later, Whitefield rewrote his journal entries during that period, asking for public pardon, saying that his words were uncharitable, though he meant them to be helpful.
Finally, there is the controversy with John Wesley concerning the doctrine of predestination. While in Gloucester in 1739 Whitefield heard of a sermon preached by John Wesley against him and the doctrine of predestination. He further heard that one of the ministers working with Wesley had been excluded from Wesley’s fellowship because he held to the doctrine. Wesley had failed to question Whitefield about predestination and went ahead and spoke disparagingly about him in the sermon. How would Whitefield deal with the issue? He wrote John Wesley a letter, stating how his heart was broken within him, being grieved in his soul, knowing that Wesley’s actions put him in a very difficult dilemma. To not answer Wesley would put those ministers who work with both of them, and who hold to the doctrine, in jeopardy; but to speak out against Wesley forces Whitefield to put his good friend in a very negative light. The tone of Whitefield’s letter is grief mixed with humility and genuine love and honor for his friend, wishing God’s greatest blessings on his ministry, praying that he (Whitefield) would decrease that Wesley would increase. He asked Wesley to pray fervently over the matter in order that no alienation of affection would come between them.
What can we learn from George Whitefield and the persecution and opposition he faced in ministry? How can these things inspire us to be men whom God may choose to use in revival? I will limit myself to four observations. First, when faced with persecution or opposition we must learn the art of restraint. For some, if not most of us, our tendency is to respond quickly with anger or defensiveness. Instead we ought to show restraint, first of all in our hearts. We all know that from the heart comes all manner of evil, so we must guard our hearts against impurity and idolatry. Killing the idols of self-worth, self-actualization, and self-exaltation will prepare us to show restraint in speech and action. Our tendency is to defend ourselves and this is always wrong. No doubt we can explain our actions or position on a matter but we ought then to leave it alone, trusting God in His time to vindicate our actions. On the other side of this, we ought to come quickly to the aid of a brother who is being maligned or misrepresented. Psalm 15 tells us not to take up the reproach of a friend, not to give an ear to one who is maligning a brother. To go further on the concept of restraint, we must practice forgiveness, intentionally releasing others of the debts they owe us, consciously writing off the offenses done to us, keeping in mind that this is possible because God has forgiven us the great debt of our sins. See Matthew 18:23ff. Restraint means that we move toward those who have wronged us. Whitefield did this by going to the church where his persecutor was serving the Sacrament, willingly taking it from his hand. Moving toward an elder who has given you a hard time may mean inviting he and his wife over for dinner, helping him with a home improvement project, or taking him to a ball game.
Second, in facing persecution we must learn to act with calculation and contemplation. The negative example in Whitefield’s life, what not to do, is his preaching against the unconverted ministry. We almost always get ourselves into trouble by preaching against things. Is it not more profitable to preach Christ and the commands of the Christian life and in that process, point out the negative issues impacting the topic? It seems as though Whitefield got caught up in the moment, seeing that Gilbert Tennent, a Presbyterian, was preaching against an unconverted ministry, and was must stiff opposition; and Whitefield thus sought to come to the aid of his friend by preaching the same message, hoping to lend credibility to Tennent. The positive example, what to do, in Whitefield’s ministry was his letter to John Wesley concerning the controversy over the doctrine of predestination. Instead of getting into a public controversy by preaching against Wesley, or writing a book or tract attacking Wesley’s position, Whitefield sought to address this as a friend to a friend. To be sure Whitefield said some very direct and hard hitting things but the tone of his letter is clearly fraternal, wondering how he can honor Wesley but at the same time speak truth. In our modern day of e mails, it seems to me that we ought to refrain from firing off e mails when someone does or says something to us which we do not appreciate. E mail correspondence is great to relay information but it lacks terribly in communicating love and passion, potentially difficult or divisive issues. The best way is still face to face and if this does not work, then use the telephone.
Third, sooner or later we will say and do things which, at the time seemed the right thing to do, but later become obviously the wrong thing to do. Sometimes this will involve actual sin and thus asking forgiveness is necessary. Sometimes it may simply be poor judgment and asking forgiveness is unnecessary. Whichever situation it is still needs a direct action of restitution. Whitefield’s public apology, albeit sixteen years later, for his sermon against the unconverted ministry is a wonderful illustration of the man’s humility and gentleness. No doubt you have had many times where a public apology or some other form of restitution was needed. There are also times where you failed to make restitution, allowing your pride to keep you from the very thing you know you ought to have done. Our tendency is think that such public apologies work against us, undermining our authority, diminishing our respect within the church. The opposite, of course, is really what happens. God works contrary to our perceptions. Humility made manifest in restitution is always honored by God in the long run.
And fourth, we need to think through the implications of our speech and actions. Because Whitefield spoke against the unconverted ministry, young, impressionable David Brainerd, in his spiritual immaturity, spoke against a tutor and the President of Yale, resulting in his expulsion from Yale. We know that God works all things for good, including our sin, and Brainerd’s expulsion worked out for the glory of the church because it forced him to become a missionary, something he was unlikely to have pursued if he had been ordained as a pastor. Certainly the church is far better off by having Brainerd’s journal, but still the fact is that Brainerd’s careless and harmful words kept him from pastoral ministry. Whitefield seems largely to be a contributor to Brainerd’s expulsion. It is vital that we contemplate our speech and actions. “If I say this, how is it likely to be received?” We need to be very careful in what we say to Elders or Staff personnel, knowing that undisciplined and careless words can easily undermine our effectiveness.
So we need to ask God for a spirit of wisdom so that we may walk in a manner worthy of His calling, that we may bring forth fruit in every good work, that we may continue to grow in our knowledge of God, so that we may persevere in difficult and troubling circumstances and forbear with difficult people whom God brings our way, and that we may live increasingly with a spirit of thanksgiving and contentment in our ministry and family relationships.
Samuel Davies, A Preacher With Remarkable Unction
The great Presbyterian preacher, evangelist, and college President, Samuel Davies, was born of Welsh descent in November, 1723 at New Castle County, Pennsylvania. He was the only son of a godly mother who had him educated by Abel Morgan, a Baptist preacher. Later young Davies was a student at the Classical School run by William Robinson. Robinson would later be ordained into the Presbyterian ministry and become a mighty instrument of God in revival preaching in the Middle Colonies. Davies was converted around the age of fifteen, a few years before the Great Awakening began in 1741. Robinson was ordained to the Presbyterian ministry in 1740 and made his way down the Shenandoah Valley in Virginia, across the state to Williamsburg where God used him powerfully in four days of preaching in July, 1743. He died in 1746 after only six years in the gospel ministry, leaving a legacy of great preaching which Davies and many others embraced. About the time Robinson left his school to preach, Davies moved to an informal theological college run by the Reverend Samuel Blair at Fagg’s Manor. Since many in the Middle Colonies did not trust the education ministers were receiving at Yale or Harvard, and because there was no college at the time in the Middle Colonies, men for the ministry were often trained in what pejoratively were called “log colleges.” Davies’ mother had left the Baptist Church when he was eleven, settling in with the growing Presbyterian movement of the 1730’s. Davies was profoundly affected by the preaching of Samuel Blair who modeled a heart searching, white hot, Christ centered, fervent preaching of the new birth which so marked the Great Awakening.
Samuel Davies was ordained into the gospel ministry in February, 1747 at the age of twenty-three. He was sent to Hanover, Virginia, just outside of Richmond, where he built upon the remarkable preaching ministry of William Robinson four years before. Virginia, at the time, claimed that the state church was the Church of England and all dissenters were strictly regulated. Since almost everyone at the time belonged to a church, at least through baptism, there was a great deal of lukewarmness toward the Christian faith; and Samuel Davies was deeply burdened that men, women, and children would enter eternity without giving serious consideration to the estate of their souls. After preaching for several weeks in Hanover Davies returned home to New Castle in August, 1747 to find that both his young wife and unborn child had died suddenly. This deeply affected his preaching, driving home to him the brevity of life. He became the pastor of the Presbyterian Church in Hanover in July, 1748 and his church quickly grew to over 300 families, including 40 Black, slave families. It seems that his congregation was comprised almost exclusively of landed gentry and black slaves. The Anglicans were not at all happy with Davies, accusing him of stealing sheep, but he always countered saying that denominational affiliation meant nothing to him, that he was concerned about the salvation of people’s souls. This burden took him throughout the state of Virginia preaching primarily to nominal church goers, calling them to search their hearts to see if they were lacking in any way.
Davies remarried in October, 1748, making Jane Holt, from a well to do Williamsburg family, his wife. Jane’s brother, John Holt, was the publisher of the Virginia Gazette and had many of Davies’ sermons published. Soli Deo Gloria, a publisher of old Puritan and Reformed works, has reprinted three volumes of Davies’ sermons and they ought to be required reading for any preacher, especially those learning to preach. Davies’ ministry was interrupted for fourteen months, beginning in December, 1753 when he and Gilbert Tennent traveled to England to solicit Christians for financial aid to build the College of New Jersey, Princeton. While there Tennent and Davies, though welcomed by George Whitefield into his home, chose deliberately not to be seen publicly with him. They knew Whitefield had both his admirers and detractors and sought to stay out of the controversy he had ignited. Tennent and Davies were able to raise four thousand pounds, a huge sum of money in those days, to build the first building at Princeton, Nassau Hall. The second President of Princeton, Aaron Burr, Sr. died in the fall of 1757 and his father-in-law Jonathan Edwards took over as President but also died in March, 1758 from complications of a small pox inoculation. Shortly after that Davies was elected President of Princeton at the age of thirty-six. For years his health had been suspect, and he too died a year later at the age of thirty-seven.
Martyn Lloyd-Jones has said that Davies was the greatest preacher this country has produced. John Angel James said that he came to understand the importance of earnest, awakening preaching through reading Davies’ sermons. He said, “I have made the conversion of the impenitent the great end of my ministry.” Young Patrick Henry attended the Forks Presbyterian Church in Virginia where Davies regularly preached. Though Henry’s father was an Anglican his mother was a Presbyterian, and she regularly took her young son to hear Davies preach. Upon returning home from church, Patrick was made by his mother to recite the text and main points of Davies’ sermons. He later declared Samuel Davies to be the greatest orator he had ever heard. No doubt that is not an empty remark from one of the greatest orators our country has produced, the author of, “Give Me Liberty, Or Give Me Death”, the speech which ignited the American Revolutionary War. No doubt Patrick Henry’s ideas of religious liberty were learned by hearing Davies and also there can be no doubt than Henry was inspired by Davies’ oratory.
Davies’ sermons were written manuscripts which he took into the pulpit with him, and he reportedly spent thirty hours of preparation for each sermon. I have read the three volumes of his sermons I mentioned earlier and they are profound. His method of preaching followed the Puritan style of expounding the text in the beginning of the sermon, and then making specific application, drawn from the text. Due to the fact that Davies was largely preaching to those who were at least nominal members of the Anglican Church, he was able to focus on their tendency to assume too much about their status before God. Hence, in volume one of his sermons several of his titles include, “The Divine Authority And Sufficiency Of The Christian Religion”, “Sinners Entreated To Be Reconciled To God”, “The Nature And Universality Of Spiritual Death”, and “The Nature And Danger Of Making Light Of Christ And Salvation.”
What can we learn from Samuel Davies’ preaching that practically may help us in our ministries? First, there is so little evangelistic preaching today, especially in the Reformed world, that we need biblical models for it. I have often said that Reformed pastors have very few mentors of how Reformed evangelism ought to be done, especially preaching; and because we don’t want to be charged with Arminianism we tend to shy away from it altogether. Furthermore, we tend wrongly to assume that most, if not all, who hear us on a Sunday morning are already Christians. This is a faulty assumption. Surely the plethora of discipline cases we have faced should convince us that “not all who are of Israel, are Israel.” It also should be noted that most of the evangelistic preaching we hear today is rather shallow, failing to strike at the conscience and heart, failing to apply the law of God to both. Without the terrors of the Law, without visiting Mt. Sinai first, then going to Mt. Calvary will seem unnecessary to most of our hearers.
Davies knew how to answer the objections people had to pursuing salvation, and he certainly deals with them, especially in “The Divine Authority And Sufficiency Of The Christian Religion”. However he was at his best in appealing to the conscience, painting vivid pictures of their lost condition, urging them to put away their sin and come to Christ for refuge. In “Sinners Entreated To Be Reconciled To God”, after listing several reasons why they ought to be reconciled, and what this would entail, he then says, “Now the overture of peace is as really made to you by the blessed God and His Son Jesus Christ, as if it were expressly proposed to you by an immediate voice from heaven. . .Therefore, however lightly you may make of a mere proposition of mine, can you disregard an overture from the God that made you, and the Savior that bought you with His blood! In which I am but the faint echo of their voice from heaven.”
This leads to a second benefit from Davies’ preaching. It was thoroughly Calvinistic. He practically applied what Augustine said, “Lord, grant what Thou commandest, and command what Thou dost desire.” Pelagius, of course, could not stomach Augustine’s prayer, saying that surely God would not require something which man was unable to do. Of course we know that God’s law, regardless of man’s fall into sin which makes him unable to respond to the gospel, has not changed. Davies, the ever faithful Calvinistic evangelist, called men and women to do the impossible, namely to repent and believe the gospel of Christ, to be reconciled to God. He knew the Holy Spirit must regenerate and he was thus totally dependent upon God’s grace to be at work in his hearers. We see, therefore, in Davies an utter confidence in the simple preaching of the gospel.
I suggest this is our great need today in the PCA! We tend, do we not, to trust our own personalities and plans, acting as de facto Pelagians. Consequently we lack boldness in our preaching. We seem fearful of what the post modern skeptic will think of it. We lack the unction of the Spirit, and we thus are generally powerless to see conviction of sin leading to repentance and faith.
Finally, I see in the life and preaching of Samuel Davies a passion for the lost and an unbridled zeal to make Christ known to the nations. He had an extensive and highly effective ministry among African slaves in Virginia. His sermons often stress the brevity of life and the reality of standing before the great Judge of all, who will pronounce a sentence of condemnation and judgment on the impenitent. It is also interesting to note that this most loquacious and eloquent preacher, the greatest orator of the day, could speak effectively to illiterate slaves. I suggest the unction with which he spoke broke through the ignorance of his hearers and gripped their hearts and souls. The same could be true of us, regardless of the culture or educational standing of those who hear us. Unction breaks through cultural barriers.
How can we have this unction of Samuel Davies? Certainly we acknowledge the sovereignty of the Holy Spirit in these matters. God gives gifts to men as He wills, both in kind and degree. We also acknowledge the day in which Davies lived was different from our own. He preached at the end of the Great Awakening in a nation which at least paid lip service to the authority of Scripture. Our day is very different in that regard. However, we ought not to presume that God is finished with our nation. We dare not read the present coldness, worldliness, and post-modern notion that all roads lead to God as the final word in our nation. By the late 18th century our nation was almost completely swamped in the philosophy of Voltaire and Rousseau which gave us the French Revolution. At the time, to confess faith in Christ was seen as the height of foolishness, something educated people did not do, something only Methodists embraced. By the time Timothy Dwight became President of Yale in 1795 there were less than twenty Christians in the entire college. Yet we know that God raised up mighty preachers of the gospel, in response to the prayers of godly men and women in Scotland and the American Colonies, to usher in the Second Great Awakening. I have in mind men like Daniel Baker, Timothy Dwight, and Asahel Nettleton, about whom I will write at a later time.
Are you preaching with an evangelistic passion? Are you assuming too much, assuming that all who hear you on Sunday mornings are already Christians? Do you prepare your sermons and do you preach them with the lost in mind? Do you have confidence in the simple preaching of the gospel? Are you keeping short accounts with God? Are you allowing sin and unbelief to rob you of Holy Ghost power and unction in your preaching? Are you an empty vessel? Do you spend time each day, seeking the anointing of the Holy Spirit on your ministry? Do you urge your officers, staff, wife, children, church members to pray for your sermon preparation and delivery? Do you go outside the confines of your church office and seek weekly opportunities to share the gospel with the lost? Find a venue to do this. If you are like me, you can easily go a few weeks without direct contact with lost people. We know this sounds strange to say, that we have little time with unbelievers; but the modern notion of ministry, all the administrative work and counseling, tends to mitigate evangelistic outreach and zeal. And finally, do you have a regular prayer meeting at your church where you earnestly pray for the lost, for revival, where repentance for sin is encouraged, where people since the grace of God to such a degree that they feel comfortable “confessing their sins to one another?”
May God work mightily in your preaching ministry, rekindling within you a holy zeal for the privilege of preaching Christ crucified in the power of the Holy Spirit. My prayer continues to be that God will raise up men whom He may use to preach repentance, who may become instruments of revival in our nation.
Asahel Nettleton: An Old-School Presbyterian Evangelist with Great Power
Asahel Nettleton was born on April 21, 1783, in North Killingworth, Connecticut, the second born of six children and the eldest son. Nettleton’s parents were professors of true religion and attended the local Congregational Church, having their children baptized under the halfway covenant.[2] Asahel was taught the doctrines of the church from an early age. One fall morning in 1800—when the second Great Awakening was beginning to be felt throughout New England and the west, especially in Kentucky, Tennessee, and Indiana—seventeen-year-old Nettleton was fondly remembering a Thanksgiving party of the night before when he came under heavy conviction of sin as he began to wonder how his actions that night would stand under the scrutiny of a holy God on the day of judgment. He continued in deep conviction of sin, reading the sermons of Jonathan Edwards and his grandson, Timothy Dwight, then the President of Yale. His fear and concern for his soul continued for nearly a year when finally he was overwhelmed with a sense of God’s grace and love for him. A year later his father died and, since he was the oldest son, the care for the family farm fell on his shoulders. Nettleton later recalled long days of plowing in the fields, wondering how in a million years the usefulness of his life would be viewed by God. At that point he prayed, asking God for the privilege to preach his glorious gospel to the heathen. Nettleton had read David Brainerd’s journal and been deeply affected by the piety and zeal Brainerd had for the heathen Indians.
Without money and with very little prospect of admission, Nettleton pursued an education at Yale, arriving in the fall of 1803, himself being the only professing Christian in his class at the time. Those who knew him then said that he was a young man of unusual zeal, solemnity, honesty, and Biblical holiness. He was not, however, a very good student, and some have suggested two reasons for this. First, he was a shy, withdrawn young man and obviously very uncomfortable in making the public recitations that were so much a part of the educational philosophy of the day. Second, he was very sickly and often missed classes due to illness. During his junior year at Yale he was given permission to return home until he healed of his latest illness. During his junior year, through the preaching of Dr. Timothy Dwight, the Holy Spirit began to fall with great power on the students. Over the year some seventy-five of the two hundred and thirty students professed faith in Christ, giving evidence of sound conversion and joining local New Haven churches. Over the next twenty years hundreds of men, upon graduation from Yale, entered the gospel ministry and were used powerfully of God during the second Great Awakening.
On May 28, 1811, the ministerial association of New Haven licensed Nettleton to preach, and he commenced immediately to preach from town to town throughout Connecticut. He was not ordained to the office of Evangelist until the summer of 1817. His hope of becoming a missionary to the heathen Indians was not allowed because of debt he had incurred in his Yale education. Unwilling to ask anyone to cover the debt for him, he determined to postpone missionary work until he had paid the debt. In God’s gracious providence, this forced Nettleton into the Evangelistic preaching at which God greatly used him. Within the first couple of years Nettleton traveled all over Connecticut, to towns such as Southington, New Britain, East Granby, North Killingworth, Bolton, Manchester, Granby, Salem, Danbury, Monroe, North Lyme, Bloomfield, Milton, and Litchfield.[3] His preaching almost always and immediately provoked solemnity in his hearers, which he believed to be a mark of the Spirit’s unction on his preaching. His common practice was to stay in a town for an extended period of time—as much as one month—preaching daily, trusting the Holy Spirit to bring conviction of sin and thereby cause his hearers to be fearful for their soul’s eternal destiny. He preached intensely practical, straightforward sermons, making use of the Law, showing how men had failed to keep it, how they were thus under just condemnation, how they were utterly helpless to deliver themselves from their condition.
Nettleton’s practice was to disavow any emotional disturbances while preaching. If a hearer began to weep or otherwise cause confusion, he would immediately have the person removed from the meeting to the pastor’s manse next door. He wanted nothing to distract people from the issue at hand. He did not use the altar call, nor did he “have a prayer for people to invite Jesus into their hearts”; instead, after the services, he would hold meetings in the parlor of the manse for those awakened and concerned for their souls. Here they would sit in a circle as he came and spoke briefly to each one, determining the status of their concerns, praying for them that the Holy Spirit would give them peace through the new birth. He was careful not to give anyone premature hope of salvation, and he constantly warned against the tendency toward self-deception. He was decidedly Calvinistic in his theology, stressing the doctrine of God’s sovereignty and unconditional election, as well as man’s total depravity. He did not tell jokes or anecdotes while preaching. He stressed the Law of God and then brought to the people the glory of God in Christ crucified, offering salvation to all who would repent and believe. On one occasion, a man who was distraught over his soul’s condition before God wanted to chauffeur Nettleton around town in his wagon, simply enjoying Nettleton’s presence. Nettleton refused the man’s offer, believing that he may possibly be looking to Nettleton for peace rather than to Christ.
In December of 1818, Nettleton came to the Congregational Church in Eastford, Connecticut, a church which four years earlier had had a Universalist pastor. He arrived to find only twenty members, six of whom were male, and all very aged. He began preaching the doctrines of grace and immediately the people felt the weight of their sins upon them, knowing that if they were ever to be saved from their depravity and wretchedness it must be by sovereign grace. Nettleton made practical application to the hearts and consciences of his hearers in a plain and forceful manner, saying that the only way to acceptance by God was unconditional submission to Him. By the following June, 1819, fifty-eight people had become members of that church by profession of faith, even though Nettleton had moved on to Bolton. In April of 1819, Nettleton began preaching at Bolton; by August, fifty-nine people had joined the local Congregational Church through profession of faith. The teens especially had come under conviction of their sin, previously having been very careless about their souls.
By the mid 1820s a most powerful and popular evangelist had burst onto the scene of New England, a former lawyer by the name of Charles Finney. While a Presbyterian, Finney had no formal theological education and he openly defied the Westminster Confession of Faith. By 1826, while Nettleton was preaching in Jamaica, Long Island, New York, he heard of Finney’s preaching in and around Troy, New York. He was receiving reports of how Finney “crushed” all opposition to his ministry. If a local pastor resisted him, Finney would find a few people within the local church who supported his “new measures” and turn them against their pastor. If the pastor continued to desist in supporting Finney, then he would publicly denounce that pastor as an enemy of revivals. Many a pastor caved in to the pressure and supported Finney’s ministry. Finney often, while preaching, called out the names of ministers and individuals in the community, praying for them by name to be saved or to support the work of revival. Of course his use of the anxious bench is well known. He would have people come forward during or after the sermon and kneel for prayer to be saved. He welcomed—some would say initiated—emotionalism, in the throes of which people would fall on the floor and wail loudly about their spiritual condition. The whole approach to ministry was very unlike Nettleton’s, which was marked by order, solemnity, and reverence. Finney, believing that revivals could be orchestrated, embraced the New Haven theology, which mitigated traditional Calvinism and embraced a more Arminian approach to ministry This New School Presbyterianism was soundly resisted by Old School men like Nettleton. Many who heard Finney said that they had never heard the names of God uttered with such irreverence. His sermons contained very little doctrine, and that which did appear was far from the Calvinism of the first Great Awakening and the preaching of Davies, Edwards, Tennent, and Whitefield.
Asked to speak to the matter of Finney’s new measures, Nettleton resisted for over a year, wanting to get more information, and actually speak with Finney face to face. From having preached in Rhode Island, near the border of Connecticut, many years before, he knew of the negative residue of unfaithful revival preaching. James Davenport, who preached at the time of Edwards and Whitefield, was given over to excessive emotionalism and dreams and visions in his preaching. The result was a whole region of people who had no use for Christianity. In their minds they “had been there, done that,” and it did not work. They consequently had moved onto other pursuits. Nettleton held two face-to-face meetings with Finney, hoping to persuade him that his methods were harmful to the body of Christ. He got nowhere with him. Finally Nettleton wrote a lengthy letter to a friend, stating his concerns about Finney and his ministry. The letter is filled with respect for Finney, always referring to him with deference and kindness, never questioning his motives or zeal for Christ; but at the same time it states the dilatory effects Finney was having, bringing strife, discord, and division to many churches and ministers. He pointed out that even many of Finney supporters were secretly warning their friends in other cities not to support Finney when he came to their towns.
An example of Finney’s power and influence is the ministry of Lyman Beecher who, while at the Congregational Church in Litchfield, Connecticut and a vibrant supporter of Nettelton’s ministry, strictly opposed Finney, saying that when he crossed the border into Connecticut he would oppose him every step of the way. Years later, after Beecher had taken a church in Boston, he firsthand saw the outward results of Finney’s ministry and became a supporter, thus turning away from Nettleton, much to the latter’s great heartache.
What can we learn from Nettleton’s ministry to help us become men whom God may use in the work of revival? I will mention three things, especially in light of his disagreement with Finney. First, theology drove Nettleton’s methodology of ministry. His Calvinism supported all he said and did. Because he practically understood the total depravity of man, the imputation of Adam’s sin, God’s sovereign grace in election, and the vital necessity of the new birth, he preached with utter dependence upon the Holy Spirit to awaken the sinner and to regenerate him. Because he knew that God must speak to the mind, he refused to allow any emotional disturbances to cloud people’s thinking. He knew that God must reach the heart and mind before the will could naturally follow. Because he understood the deceitfulness of sin he was careful with new professors of faith in Christ, not too quickly “laying hands on them,” being slow to suggest to them that they had been savingly wrought upon by God. He continually exalted the crucified and risen Christ as the only refuge for sinners, stripping away even the slightest confidence one may put in the flesh. May theology, in the true sense of the word, drive our ministries—our preaching, teaching, evangelizing, counseling, leading, equipping.
Second, Nettleton was unafraid, though careful, in confronting error. His interaction with Charles Finney is a wonderful illustration of the way a Christian leader ought to deal with heresy or other forms of division. His desire was always the unity of the true Christian church. His ministry transcended denominations and he was very astute in seeing the effects of unbiblical ministry. He was slow to speak on such matters and would do so only after studying the facts, running them through the sieve of Scripture, seeing both the good and the bad. He patiently but directly dealt with error. Instead of speaking about Finney, he went directly to him with his concerns, agreeing where he could, hoping they might be able to work together, pointing out the error and where it would lead, grounding his observations on what he knew of Davenport’s ministry in Rhode Island and Connecticut. May God so work His grace in us that we model our behavior after that of Nettleton when facing error!
And third, Nettleton was a tireless, fervent, reverent, and confident preacher of the gospel, totally dependent on the ministry of the Holy Spirit to convict and regenerate. It is obvious, from his days at Yale when he was a hesitant and fearful student in class recitation, that he was not a naturally gifted communicator. This all the more makes his preaching ministry remarkable and should serve as an encouragement to reticent, introverted men who shy away from the task of preaching. A man filled with the Holy Spirit, regardless of his natural tendencies, is a powerful instrument in the hands of God. As I have stated many times before, we cannot help but remember the time in which Nettleton, Whitefield, Edwards, and Davies preached—times of refreshing from the presence of the Lord—and we certainly are not in that time in our day. Having said this, however, we can still imitate their zeal and fervency of ministry. Nettleton was a preacher and evangelist. He was not an after-dinner speaker, clown, or guru of pop psychology. He preached with great solemnity. Certainly there is a place for humor, but preaching is not that place. The issues at hand, having eternal implications, are far too serious to be presented in a frivolous manner. May we seek the Holy Spirit to attend our preaching with a new level of solemnity, forcing the hearers to listen to God, that the Holy Spirit may have His way with each of them, whether it mean repentance leading to eternal life, or repentance for greater personal holiness.
Daniel Baker: A Zealous Presbyterian Evangelist
Daniel Baker was born at my favorite place in the world, Midway, Georgia, on August 17, 1791, and grew up in the Midway Congregational Church. The Calvinists at Midway came there in 1751 from Dorchester, South Carolina, and before that from Dorchester, Massachusetts, and Dorchester, England. They were New Light Calvinists (following the theology and practice of Whitefield, Edwards, and Tennent) who embraced the Westminster Confession of Faith and lived a godly, experiential, Christ-centered Christianity. Though the Midway Church was Congregational, all their ministers were Presbyterians and they produced some of the most powerful and effective Presbyterian ministers of the day—men such as Thomas Goulding, Daniel Baker, Charles C. Jones, John Jones, R.Q. Mallard, James Stacy, Jedediah Morse, and Samuel Eaxson. The Midway Church also planted numerous Presbyterian Churches in the surrounding towns, including Walthourville, Flemington, Dorchester, and Midway. The Midway Presbyterian Church was an African-American congregation that met in the Midway Church after the War Between the States.
Baker was educated at Hampton-Sydney College and was there when a powerful revival broke out among the students. He also witnessed numerous revivals at the Midway Church while growing up there. He married Elizabeth McRoberts at Hampton-Sydney College in 1816, and God blessed the couple with four children. He graduated from Princeton Theological Seminary and was ordained in the Presbyterian Church. He served pastorates in Harrisonburg, Virginia, the Second Presbyterian Church of Washington, D.C., and the Independent Presbyterian Church of Savannah, Georgia, as well as one in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, and Frankfort, Kentucky. While preaching at the church in Washington his congregants included President John Quincy Adams and General Andrew Jackson, both of whom spoke of the unusual efficacy and power of his preaching. Baker’s greatest success, however, was in revival and evangelistic preaching. He never stayed long at any church as pastor, often experiencing what he called “divine discontent” that pulled him away from pastoral ministry to itinerant evangelistic work. Of course this meant he left attractive places of service and comfortable salaries for travel to destitute regions, often sleeping under the stars, being in danger of dangerous men and animals, spending long periods of time away from his wife and children, and earning barely enough money on which he could survive.
His first full-time evangelistic ministry was in Virginia, Ohio, and Kentucky, with at least 2500 professing faith in Christ within the first two years. He then preached for several weeks at a time in Memphis, Mobile, New Orleans, and many places up and down the Mississippi Valley. It seems everywhere Daniel Baker preached revival broke out. On one occasion, asked the secret of his efficacy, he replied, “If my preaching was crowned with a remarkable blessing, I believe one reason was this: bearing in mind that the word of God, and not the word of man, is quick and powerful, I was a man of one book, and that book the Bible; and taking the hint from an inspired Apostle, I made Jesus Christ and him crucified my constant theme.” Ernest Trice Thompson, in his book Presbyterians in the South, Volume One, asserts that no other Presbyterian preacher has won more converts to the church of Christ.
What was his preaching like? We have a few of Baker’s sermons in an old publication by the Presbyterian Board of Missions, Philadelphia, 1858, but an excerpt from the Southern Presbyterian Review, 1847, on a review of several of his evangelistic sermons says these sermons
bring afresh before us the impassioned preacher and the thronged assemblies whose hearts were then moved as the trees of the forest are moved before the wind. Still our ideas of what belongs to good taste are not met by these discourses. They abound more in anecdotes, in exclamations, and free colloquialisms, than suit our views . . . Apostrophe, and other strong figures of rhetoric, are too freely used, and carried beyond the bounds of propriety . . . And yet these discourses were blessed in their first delivery, to men of all descriptions, learned and unlearned, cultivated and uncultivated. The vivid moral painting, the fervid impassioned appeal, and the rhetorical mode of presenting argument, are infinitely more likely to move an audience, than a style more rigidly correct, and reasoning more technical and abstract.
Elizabeth Fox-Genovese, in The Mind of the Master, says that even Arminians could not resist going to hear Baker preach.
The excerpt above implies that Baker preached in a colloquial, anecdotal style that lacked the polish of other accomplished southern Presbyterian preachers of that day, namely men like James Henley Thornwell and Benjamin Palmer. Nonetheless, Baker’s preaching connected with people. His passion and fervent appeal to come to Christ is evident. I remember an illustration my friend Roland Barnes has used, from the preaching of Daniel Baker. To illustrate the urgency and helplessness with which one ought to come to Christ, Baker told this story:
Several people were shipwrecked and in the ocean, seeking to make their way to the only lifeboat. The lifeboat could hold eight people and no more, and the boat had all it could take. In desperation a man swam to the boat and tried to make his way into it. He reached one hand on the side of the boat and one from inside cut off his hand, knowing that to take one more would mean death for everyone on board. The man, being desperate to save his own life, put his one remaining hand on the side to get into the boat and this hand was cut off as well. Finally, in utter desperation, the man took hold of the boat with his teeth. At this point, the man with the ax relented, and brought the man into the boat. The lost must see his desperation and inability and then God will show him mercy.
In 1839, Dr. John Breckinridge made a plea for Presbyterians to go to the Republic of Texas and engage in missionary work there, declaring to Baker, “Brother Baker, you are the man.” Daniel Baker responded to the call, knowing that any man who got to Texas prior to January 1, 1840, would be given 640 acres of land. Due to the many calls on his life to preach, Baker did not reach Galveston until February, 1840, thus forfeiting his opportunity for land. This did not deter him from moving from town to town, sleeping in the wild by night, narrowly escaping many dangerous moments from wicked men and wild animals. In fact, a rumor circulated all the way back to Washington, D.C. that Baker had been murdered. That he was still very much alive frustrated some wonderful obituaries written on his behalf in newspapers across the nation. He performed the first Protestant baptism and Communion service in Texas.
Baker’s method, when coming into any town, was to ring a bell or beat a triangle, and go house to house, door to door, rounding up as many people as he could for a preaching service. Usually very few attended the first meeting or two, but then word quickly spread and whole towns would turn out to hear him preach Christ crucified. He planted numerous churches throughout Texas and became Pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of Galveston in 1848. Again, though, his divine discontent would not allow him to stay long in that church.
He was a great promoter of education, beginning the first Sunday School in the south in the late 1820s in North Carolina, patterning it after one he had seen in Princeton. You probably know that these early Sunday Schools were for children, teaching them to read and write as well as to learn the gospel. As was typical of many Presbyterian preachers of the day, when Baker planted a church he also planted a school. He believed the state ought to fund education and allow the church to teach her doctrine in it. He believed that a great need in Texas was a college to provide further education for men there. He established Austin College in Huntsville, Texas, raising $100,000—a huge sum in those days—by traveling throughout the South. Baker died on December 10, 1857, in Austin, Texas, and had engraved on his tombstone, “Here lies Daniel Baker - Preacher of the Gospel - A Sinner Saved By Grace.” The House of Delegates in Texas, upon hearing of Baker’s death, adjourned for the day, calling his death a public calamity.
What can we learn from the life and ministry of Daniel Baker? I will mention four things that strike me. First is his boldness. He was fearless, going where angels fear to tread, so to speak. He was bold to answer difficult calls, consistently leaving the comfort and security of nice pastorates and salaries, serving well-to-do people in various towns, for the hard, dangerous task of incessant travel and little money. He put the gospel before his own personal needs, as when he failed to make it to Galveston prior to January 1, 1840, so that he could procure free land. He was unafraid to take huge risks, going into towns to speak with godless and profane people, boldly calling them to forsake their sin and to believe on Christ. He went after people. He would not simply announce that he would preach at such and such a time, in such and such a place, but he would beat a triangle, ring a bell, going door to door, inviting people to hear him preach. He feared not rejection. He did not allow his Calvinism, especially the doctrine of unconditional election, to keep him from his task to offer the gospel to everyone who would listen. Are you bold in ministry? Boldness comes from the filling of the Holy Spirit. See Acts 4:32. Do you fear the face of man? I am not asking you to be belligerent or caustic; I am not asking you to look for trouble; but are you bold in seeking out the lost in your community?
Second, Baker had vision. He was not a pessimist. He looked to what God could do, not to how man may limit Him. He saw opportunity where other men saw obstacles. When challenged by John Breckenridge to go to Texas he quickly answered the call. He saw a vast republic with little Protestant, gospel witness. He saw the future of this vast land, knowing it would be a powerful force in the world, knowing it needed the gospel of grace as its foundation. He was not unaware of the predominant Roman Catholic persuasion of those living in the region, but this did not daunt him. He quickly saw the long-term needs of Texas, namely quality education if the people were to prosper and succeed. When he mentioned in passing the need for a college, local people in one town raised $8000 immediately. Baker responded by going throughout the South to raise another $100,000. He was a man of action, not a man of letters. He was an evangelist, not a theologian. He knew his gifts and calling and gave himself unreservedly to them. Are you a man of vision or of pessimism? Do you have a clear sense, based on your gifts, passions, and place of ministry and the needs present in your community, of what God wants you to do there? Your purpose is that of any other pastor—to fulfill the Great Commission; the way you go about that task, however, will be very different, even unique, from other men in ministry. When you have a clear sense of your own vision for ministry, given to you by God, then you will be supremely motivated to carry out that vision, no matter what the opposition.
Third, Daniel Baker was unmistakably, undeniably mission minded. One can only imagine the destitute and dangerous environment of Texas in 1840. On top of this, there was great tension between the Mexican and American governments, leading to war a few years later. Yet in this context Baker readily and willingly left the comforts of pastoral ministry and became a missionary to Texas. He believed his doctrine—that those without Christ perish for eternity in hell. He knew the gospel of Christ was the only remedy for sin, and he put feet to his doctrine by taking the gospel to as many people as he could. He trained other men to carry on his ministry by establishing Austin College. Are you unmistakably mission minded? Are you consciously and deliberately involved in missional ministry? Are you moving your church to considerable investment of time and money in world and home missions? Are you moved by the lost condition of mankind and his unalterable and intolerable future in hell? Are you zealous to preach Christ to him?
And fourth, Baker was a preacher of great power, in the tradition of so many other great nineteenth century Southern Presbyterian preachers such as Thornwell, Palmer, John Girardeau, and R.L. Dabney. If Thornwell and Palmer possessed uncommon eloquence, precision, and logic in their preaching, and if Giradeau and Dabney preached with a marvelous practical grasp of Reformed Theology, then Baker preached with a down-home, colloquial style that, united with his passion and zeal, made him a preacher people heard gladly. He had not the intellectual capacities of a Thornwell, Palmer, or Dabney, but he knew himself; and he preached in his own style, according to his own gifts and experiences, all the while maintaining fidelity to doctrine and Scripture. What set him apart from so many preachers of our day is that he preached. He did not simply teach or impart information. He preached for a verdict. He was simple, direct, passionate. He knew exactly what he wanted from each sermon and he would not relent until people knew exactly what that sermon demanded of them. He knew man’s great need was for repentance from sin and faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. He never assumed his audience was all Christian. He forced the issue with them. He preached Christ crucified. I know you know what this means, so I don’t need to spend time on this now, but remember you are preaching Christ, not mere morality. Baker expected people to be moved, to be saved by his preaching. Do you expect the same? Are you yourself when preaching, or are you trying to copy someone else? Do you know exactly the objective you wish to elicit from your hearers? If you don’t know what it is, then surely your people will not know. Again it is clear that Baker had Holy Spirit unction upon his ministry, and clearly this is the great need in our day. Will you believe and seek God for it in your own preaching?
[1] Deism denied the supernatural in Christianity, stripping it of God’s vital interest in the affairs of man, portraying God as an uninterested by-stander on the stage of life who leaves the day-to-day affairs of man in man’s own hands.
[2] This practice began in New England Congregational churches in the 1660s. The vast majority of religious professors in those days had not made a public profession of faith and therefore were not allowed to take Communion. They were allowed, however, to have their children baptized as long as they agreed with the covenant of the church.
[3] Lyman Beecher, the great Calvinistic preacher from Litchfield, played a significant role in this work by urging churches through Connecticut to receive Nettleton and to encourage his ministry among their people.