5. George Whitefield (1714–1770)
O Heavenly Father,” prayed a twenty-two-year-old preacher in London, “for Thy dear Son’s sake, keep me from climbing.”
That young preacher was George Whitefield, and he had every reason to fear popularity and promotion. Great crowds were coming to hear him preach the gospel, and hundreds were being converted to faith in Christ. He was the boy wonder of London. His preaching shook both Great Britain and the United States, and the results are still with us.
Historians tell us that Whitefield preached from forty to sixty hours a week, a total of more than eighteen thousand sermons during thirty-four years of public ministry. He crossed the Atlantic thirteen times and ministered extensively in the American colonies. He preached to thousands throughout Great Britain, and this included three trips to Ireland and fourteen visits to Scotland.
“I had rather wear out than rust out,” he told a friend who protested that he preached too often. He often quoted the adage, “We are immortal until our work is done.” When it is learned that Whitefield was not a healthy man, that he often had severe spells of vomiting, and that he arose each morning at four o’clock, this record of ministry becomes even more amazing.
We need to meet this boy preacher whom Dr. D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones called the greatest preacher that England has ever produced.
George Whitefield was born in Gloucester on December 16, 1714, into a respectable family that owned and managed the Bell Inn. Whitefield was but two years old when his father died, and when his mother remarried eight years later, the match was an unhappy one.
Young George had a good memory and a glib tongue, so he excelled in making speeches in school and acting in plays. Little did he realize that his youthful public appearances would help to prepare him for his pulpit ministry.
Of course, as a youngster, he got involved in the usual sins of youth, even to the point of stealing money from his mother. But even in the midst of his childhood corruption (as he termed it), he had the conviction that he would one day be a clergyman. “I was always fond of being a clergyman,” he wrote in his Journals, and “used frequently to imitate the ministers reading prayers, etc.”1
When he was about fifteen, he left school to assist his mother in the work of the inn. He continued to read the Bible even though he was not a professed Christian, and during a visit with his brother in Bristol he found great delight in attending church. He made vows and apparently had some adolescent emotional religious experiences; but no sooner had he returned to Gloucester than the old life overtook him again.
By the providence of God, Whitefield did return to school and then entered Oxford, where he met John and Charles Wesley and became a part of their Holy Club. While the Wesley brothers and their friends were moral and religious people, they did not as yet know much about the new birth. Their Christianity consisted mainly of religious exercises, mutual exhortation, and ministry to the poor and needy.
John Wesley gave Whitefield a copy of Henry Scrougal’s spiritual classic, The Life of God in the Soul of Man; and the reading of that book opened Whitefield’s eyes to the miracle of the new birth (at that time, Wesley himself knew nothing of a regeneration experience). Whitefield did not enter into true life and liberty immediately, but at least he was moving in the right direction. Finally, in the spring of 1735, he cast himself on God’s mercy and experienced new life in Christ.
He then returned to Gloucester, where he lived with friends for several months. He began his lifelong practice of reading the Bible on his knees and studying his Greek New Testament (Whitefield was a competent Greek and Latin student). He also purchased the famous Matthew Henry Commentary and read it carefully. In fact, the set became his constant companion in all his travels.
He gathered around him a small group of new believers, many of them his old “partners in crime,” and they met weekly for Bible study, prayer, and mutual edification. This was the first Methodist Society ever to be organized. It comes as a surprise to many people to learn that it was George Whitefield, not John and Charles Wesley, who founded the Methodist Church. The Wesleys entered into Whitefield’s labors, and eventually were given the leadership of the movement by Whitefield.
Whitefield returned to Oxford in March, 1736. The Wesleys had already sailed to Georgia to work with General Oglethorpe in the new colony. On June 10, 1736, George Whitefield was ordained as a deacon by Bishop Martin Benson in Gloucester; and on June 26, he preached his first sermon. The curious congregation—many of them relatives and friends—were amazed at the power and spiritual wisdom of the young preacher. In fact, someone reported to the bishop that Whitefield’s sermon “drove fifteen people mad.” The bishop said he hoped the madness would not be forgotten by the next Sunday.
That was the beginning of a miracle ministry. In July, Whitefield graduated from Oxford; for the next two months, he ministered in London as a supply preacher for a friend. He then preached for four months in Oxford, followed by a marvelous ministry in Gloucester, Bristol, and London. Thousands came to listen, and hundreds were brought to the Savior. He personally counseled with hundreds of seeking souls. Wherever he preached, the crowds were great and the benefits were lasting.
On February 1, 1738, John Wesley returned from Georgia, a weary and defeated man. His ministry in the colony had been a failure; and, unfortunately, he had left behind a bad name and a number of determined enemies. Whitefield had felt a call to serve in Georgia, and he was ready to sail when Wesley’s ship arrived in England.
For some reason, Wesley did not try to see Whitefield personally; but he did try to persuade him not to go to Georgia. In his earlier years, John Wesley believed in casting lots to determine God’s will for himself and for his friends. Had Whitefield listened to Wesley at that time, what a loss it would have been to the people of the United States. On February 2, 1738, Whitefield set off on the first of seven visits to the colonies, visits that were greatly blessed by God and helped to spearhead the Great Awakening.
Whitefield arrived in Savannah, Georgia, on May 7. The very next day, in London, John Wesley “very unwillingly” attended that meeting in Aldersgate Street where his heart was “strangely warmed,” and he found the assurance of personal salvation through faith in Christ. He then began to preach the Word and gradually entered into the ministries that Whitefield had left behind.
Whitefield returned to London in December and found himself excluded from all but four London churches. He preached again to thousands and experienced a mighty working of the Spirit. He and the Wesleys joined forces in the sharing of the gospel. On January 14, 1739, Whitefield was ordained as a priest of the Church of England; throughout his ministry, he remained true to those ordination vows. Though his ministry was interdenominational, he was always a faithful son of the Church of England.
Finding that he was excluded from the established churches, Whitefield decided to take to the open air; on February 17, he began his outdoor preaching at Kingswood near Bristol. “It was a brave day for England when Whitefield began field preaching!” Charles Spurgeon told his students. Whitefield collected the miners and their families, about two hundred people, and preached the gospel to them. “Blessed be God!” said the evangelist, “I have now broken the ice!”
From that day on, huge crowds gathered wherever Whitefield set up his portable pulpit, from among both the poor and the upper strata of English society. Even the little children crowded close to the preacher to hear him. Whitefield followed this practice both in Britain and in America. Benjamin Franklin calculated that Whitefield’s message could be heard clearly by thirty thousand people at one time.
Whitefield began to organize societies and place mature believers over them to supervise the growth of the converts. By this time John Wesley was also preaching in the open air, following Whitefield’s example; the movement took on the name Methodist, from the Holy Club that had been founded at Oxford.
Both the preachers and the converts were persecuted by unbelieving rabble, sometimes with the approval of the resident clergy. It was not unusual for Wesley and Whitefield to be pelted with stones and dirt—or worse, to have a dead cat hurled at their heads. But, like the apostles of old, none of these things moved them, and they continued to preach the Word and organize societies.
Whitefield had two reasons to be interested in America. One was the preaching of the Word, and the other was the founding and managing of an orphan’s home in Georgia. While preaching in Britain, he often took an offering for the home; and he also encouraged his many American friends to support it. For a long time, the home was a heavy burden on the evangelist, and it probably cost him more in health, time, and energy than it was worth. At one point he was afraid of being arrested for the debts incurred by the home. Whenever he visited the colonies, he always made his way to Georgia to check on the work, supervise construction, and encourage the workers. The spiritual influence of George Whitefield on colonial America can never be fully estimated.
It is no secret that John and Charles Wesley were Arminian in doctrine, while Whitefield was more Calvinistic. The Wesleys opposed the doctrines of election, predestination, and the security of the believer. One day, Charles Wesley even called John Calvin “the firstborn son of the Devil!” Whitefield begged the Wesleys not to bring their doctrinal differences into the pulpit, but the men refused to listen. While Whitefield was ministering in America, John Wesley published his sermon on “Free Grace” in which he openly attacked Whitefield’s theology.
This painful conflict ultimately divided the Methodists and led to the founding of a Calvinistic Methodist branch, which was particularly strong in Wales. Like most disputes, there were faults and mistakes on both sides, because even the most saintly men are made of clay. Wesley’s emphasis on Christian perfection irritated Whitefield; and Whitefield’s proclamation of the doctrines of grace upset Wesley.
However, it is to Whitefield’s credit that he strenuously sought reconciliation and fellowship with the Wesleys. He did his utmost to keep the controversy private. Finally, Whitefield did the one thing his friends had hoped he would not do: he turned the entire ministry over to Wesley and stepped aside as leader. “I have no party to be at the head of,” he wrote, “and through God’s grace I will have none; but as much as in me lies, I will strengthen the hands of all of every denomination that preach Jesus Christ in sincerity.”
When his followers protested his decision, he said, “Let my name be forgotten, let me be trodden under the feet of all men, if Jesus may thereby be glorified. . . . Let us look above names and parties; let Jesus be our all in all. . . . I care not who is uppermost. I know my place . . . even to be the servant of all.”2 He sent a letter to the godly Lady Huntingdon in which he said, “Oh, that I may learn from all I see to desire to be nothing and to think it my highest privilege to be an assistant to all but the head of none.”
Whitefield spent the rest of his days as “an assistant to all.” The more popular he became, the more the opposition grew and the slander increased. He was even mimicked on the London stage, and obscene songs were written about him. He ignored them all and continued to magnify Jesus Christ. The opposition of the unbelievers did not pain him as much as the division of the believers. “But, oh! That division!” he wrote. “What slaughter it has made!”
Early in his Christian life and ministry, Whitefield developed a love for all God’s people who held to the fundamental doctrines of the faith. When he was only twenty, he wrote in his Journals: “I bless God, the partition wall of bigotry and sect-religion was soon broken down in my heart; for, as soon as the love of God was shed abroad in my soul, I loved all, of whatsoever denomination, who loved the Lord Jesus in sincerity of heart.”3
It was during his seventh visit to America, on September 30, 1770, that George Whitefield died, in the Presbyterian parsonage at New-buryport, Massachusetts. He is buried there at the church.
The fact that Whitefield preached in the open air to crowds of thirty thousand and even forty thousand people is of itself astounding. He was the true founder of the Methodist Church, and yet he handed his leadership to another in order to preserve “the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace.” He raised great amounts of money for the care of orphans and the poor, and he helped to establish several educational institutions.
But perhaps greater than all these accomplishments is the life of the man himself. Spurgeon commented:
Often as I have read his life, I am conscious of distinct quickening whenever I turn to it. He lived. Other men seem to be only half alive; but Whitefield was all life, fire, wing, force. My own model, if I may have such a thing in due subordination to my Lord, is George Whitefield; but with unequal footsteps must I follow in his glorious track.4
I suggest that you secure the recent two-volume biography of George Whitefield written by Arnold A. Dallimore. Do not permit the size of the books to frighten you. These volumes read like an exciting tale of adventure; they are not in the least dull and academic. This is probably the most scholarly, and yet the most readable, biography of an evangelical preacher to appear in many years. You will learn a great deal of church history, and have a better grasp of the situation today, after reading these volumes.
Then, secure Whitefield’s Journals, published by Banner of Truth Trust. You may even want to read the Journals as you read the biography. Its pages are filled with spiritual nuggets that cannot help but enrich your own spiritual life.