This month we come to consider, in a very incomplete way, the life of one of the greatest, if not the greatest Evangelist that the Church has ever known. I refer, of course, to George Whitefield, who died on the 30th of this month (September) long ago, in the year 1770.

Some Christians find little benefit in looking into the lives of those whom God has chosen in past days to do His exploits; but, as Bishop Ryle so truly said on one occasion, "I pity the man who takes no interest in such enquiries. The instruments that God employs to do His work in the world deserve a close inspection. The man who did not care to look at the ram's horn that blew down Jericho, the hammer and nail that slew Sisera, the lamps and trumpets of Gideon, the sling and stone of David, might fairly be set down as a cold and heartless person". And the person who would be content with the few tib-bits that this page can afford when there is a vast feast to be had in looking further into the lives of God's great servants, I would imagine to be a person with a very small appetite for the things of his faith.

George Whitefield was born in Gloucester in the year 1714. As a young boy he began to serve beer to the customers of the Bell Inn which was run by his mother. At an early age, Whitefield expressed a desire to enter the Christian ministry, even although, up to this point, he knew nothing of the saving power of the blood of Christ.

He entered Oxford, and a deep sense of the awareness of sin began to settle on him. "I have lain whole nights awake groaning under the weight of sorrow that I felt for sin," he can tell us; "I have spent whole days and weeks lying upon the ground begging for deliverance from the evil thoughts that crowded upon me". This more or less summarises Whitefield's state during the best part of his preparation for the ministry. He read all that he could lay his hands on, and when it came to Lent he would fast on black bread and sugarless tea, and stand in the cold inadequately dressed until his hands and feet were blue and numb with the frost. Often he would wander through Christ Church meadows after dark in the hope that he would be tempted of Satan and, therefore, be like our Lord Himself who had been in the wilderness with wild beasts and tempted of the devil. But, the devil needed to tempt George Whitefield but a little; he was still outside of the redeeming grace of Christ, and, therefore, quite within easy grasp of the devil's hand. In the whole of Oxford University there seemed to be none in the same state as the man who was destined to be the world's greatest soulwinner.

And then, Whitefield came into contact with the Wesley brothers, and, on exchange of views and aspirations, they discovered that they were all passing through similar spiritual upheavals. The "Holy Club" came into existence, but still the method of supposed justification before God was whatever good works and zeal the members could display, and as yet, salvation was an unknown word in the heart of George Whitefield.

As has happened with so many others, God in His providence saw fit to lay George Whitefield aside with a terrible illness, during which Whitefield completely abandoned any notions of redemption outside of the free grace of God in Christ; and when he left University to take on the work of Christ's gospel, he left a different man than when he had entered, and received ordination as one who knew whom he had believed. From that day, he threw himself into the work of Christ. "Whether I myself shall ever have the honour of styling myself 'a prisoner of Jesus Christ'", he wrote, "I know not; but indeed, my dear friend, I call heaven and earth to witness that when the Bishop laid his hand upon me, I gave myself up to be a martyr for Him who hung upon the cross for me".

A "living martyr" George Whitefield became. Together with the Wesleys – now also converted through the grace of God – he soon burst the bounds of the Established Church of his day, and took to the fields and fairgrounds to declare unto all the gospel of redeeming love to sinners far and wide. He preached the length and breadth of England, Scotland, Wales and Ireland, and travelled America – a long treacherous journey in those days – 13 times. He preached unreservedly the gospel of Free and Sovereign Grace, but with a zeal and determination for the souls of sinners that lit up every word that he spoke. On one occasion he was painting a picture of the blinded sinner by comparing him with a blind man whose guide dog had run off from him, and who was now approaching a cliff's edge. As he pictured the man leaning forward to seize the runaway dog, Lord Chesterfield, who in the congregation jumped from his seat and shouted: "Good God! He is gone!"

George Whitefield virtually died as he had lived - preaching. As he retired for bed on the night of his death, he turned on the staircase to those seated below, and, with candle in hand, he delivered one of his finest words before retiring for the night to sleep into eternity's arms in Christ. He was buried in a vault underneath the pulpit of the Church in which he had last preached, there to lie until the last trump.

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This Page Title – This Month Long Ago - George Whitefield The Wicket Gate Magazine "A Continuing Witness". Internet Edition number 38 – placed on line September 2002 Wicket Gate contact address – Mr Cliff Westcombe cw@wicketgate.co.uk If you wish to be notified when each new edition goes on line please send an e-mail to the above address Magazine web address – www.wicketgate.co.uk Labelled with ICRA