6. Charles Simeon (1759–1836)
The year 1759 was a good one for producing leadership in Great Britain. William Pitt the younger was born in that year and became the great political leader during the Napoleonic wars. That same year also gave Britain William Wilberforce, the Christian statesman who led the fight against slavery. But the man of that year who fascinates me the most is Charles Simeon, a neglected evangelical leader in the Anglican Church, an aristocrat who used his money and position to further the cause of the gospel at a difficult time in church history.
He was born on September 24 into a well-to-do family in Reading, England. His father, Richard Simeon, was a wealthy lawyer, and Charles grew up accustomed to affluence. He entered Cambridge in 1779, enrolling at King’s College. Extravagant in his dress and rather handsome in features, Simeon attracted attention and took advantage of it.
Although he was not an outstanding student, classes were not particularly difficult for him, and he always managed to enjoy a good time. His first real problem arose when he discovered that, at Lenten season, he would have to join the other students in Holy Communion. Religious life at Cambridge was very low, but the traditions were carried on routinely, and the young men were expected to cooperate. “Satan himself was as fit to attend as I!” Simeon remarked in later years. He was an unconverted sinner, and he knew it.
Although he fasted and prayed and even read books on Christianity, the heavens were brass and he received no light. He knew that most of the other men were also unconverted and would, like him, bluff their way through; but even this did not give him peace.
At some point early in Holy Week, Simeon ran across the statement, “The Jews knew what they did when they transferred their sin to the head of their offering.” Instantly, Simeon grasped the idea of a substitute dying for his sins; and he began to have hope.
By faith, he laid his sins on Jesus Christ; but it was not until Easter Sunday morning that the full assurance of salvation gripped him. It was April 4, 1779, and he awoke with praise on his lips. He attended chapel, shared in the Communion service, and felt a nearness to the Savior.
His conversion did not excite his family; in fact, they resisted his attempt to witness to them. He found no Christian fellowship at the university, yet he managed to keep growing and living faithfully during his student years. His evangelical zeal made him not a few enemies. He was still an aristocrat and had much to learn about humility and service.
He was ordained a deacon of the church in 1782 and began preaching whenever he had opportunity. During the summer, he filled the pulpit at a friend’s church and soon saw the building packed with attentive listeners. The zealous young man with the clear gospel message was attracting attention. In fact, so filled was the church building that the illustrious parish clerk even lost his reserved seat. The angry clerk rejoiced when the regular pastor returned after his summer holiday, saying to him, “I am so glad you are come! Now we shall have some room!”
Simeon was appointed minister of Holy Trinity Church, Cambridge, on November 9, 1783, in spite of opposition from people who did not appreciate the young man’s evangelical zeal or doctrine. The next day, Simeon preached his first sermon at the church.
The building held about nine hundred people, but most of the members stayed home in protest. Simeon preached to the visitors who came to hear him. Then the pewholders locked the doors of the pews to prevent visitors from using them. So, Simeon placed benches in the aisles; but the church officers threw the benches into the churchyard. Simeon started a Sunday evening service to reach the needy sinners, and the officers locked the church doors.
It is difficult to believe that Charles Simeon remained at Holy Trinity Church for fifty-four years, the first thirty of which were filled with constant opposition, persecution, and harassment. He had been ordained September 28, 1783, and he took his ordination vows seriously. Simeon had a very high view of the ministry and was determined to do his best to be faithful, no matter what the university, the church officers, or the townsmen might do. During the first fourteen years of his ministry he labored alone, but then he was allowed to have assistants who shared the load with him.
One of his young assistants was Henry Martyn, one of the first missionaries to India. Some years ago Henry Martyn’s namesake, Dr. D. Martyn Lloyd-Jones, gave my wife and me a guided tour of Cambridge, centering on Holy Trinity Church. He enjoyed showing us the “upper room” where Martyn gave himself to Christ for service, as well as the famous pulpit from which Simeon faithfully preached the Word.
Simeon realized that it was the preaching of the Word of God alone that could change lives and change the church. In 1792, he started sermon classes for the young men who were training for ministry at the university. Since there were no special ministerial courses for students training for the church, Simeon’s lectures met a real need. It was not easy for these young men to associate with Simeon, because he was an object of scorn and ridicule. They were known as “Simeonites” or “Sims” to the other students.
But God blessed Simeon’s ministry, and the church began to prosper. The zealous pastor used to rise at four each morning so that he might devote hours to prayer and study of the Bible. He himself had received no training in Bible study, sermon preparation, or pastoral ministry. He was teaching himself that he might be able to teach others, and God met his needs. His convictions about the ministry and preaching are still worth considering today.
“My endeavor,” he wrote, “is to bring out of Scripture what is there and not to trust in what I think might be there.” He also said, “Take the Word as little children without enquiring what human system it appears to favor.”1 Simeon made it clear that he was neither a Calvinist nor an Arminian, but rather a Bible Christian. “Be a Bible Christian and not a system Christian,” he advised his students.
Of course, in Simeon’s day, the great controversy over doctrine centered around John Wesley the Arminian and George Whitefield the Calvinist. Simeon had a delightful personal meeting with Wesley on December 20, 1748. Wesley recorded in his journal: “I went to Hinxworth, where I had the satisfaction of meeting Mr. Simeon. . . . He gave me the pleasing information, that there are three parish churches in Cambridge, wherein true scriptural religion is preached; and several young gentlemen who are happy partakers of it.”2 But Simeon has left us with a more complete record of the conversation.
“Sir,” said Simeon to Wesley, “I understand that you are called an Arminian; and I have been sometimes called a Calvinist; and therefore I suppose we are to draw daggers. But before I consent to begin the combat, with your permission I will ask you a few questions, not from impertinent curiosity, but for real instruction. Pray, Sir, do you feel yourself a depraved creature, so depraved that you would never have thought of turning to God if God had not first put it into your heart?”
“Yes, I do indeed,” Wesley replied.
“And do you utterly despair of recommending yourself to God by anything you can do; and look for salvation solely through the blood and righteousness of Christ?”
“Yes, solely through Christ.”
“But, sir, supposing you were first saved by Christ, are you not somehow or other to save yourself afterwards by your own works?”
“No, I must be saved by Christ from first to last.”
“Allowing then that you were first turned by the grace of God, are you not in some way or other to keep yourself by your own power?”
“No.”
“What, then, are you to be upheld every hour and every moment by God, as much as an infant in its mother’s arms?”
“Yes, altogether.”
“And is all your hope in the grace and mercy of God to preserve you unto his heavenly kingdom?”
“Yes, I have no hope but in him.”
“Then, sir, with your leave, I will put up my dagger again; for this is all my Calvinism; this is my election, my justification by faith, my final perseverance: it is, in substance, all that I hold, and as I hold it: and therefore, if you please, instead of searching out terms and phrases to be a ground of contention between us, we will cordially unite in those things wherein we agree.”
Always burdened to help others preach the Word, in 1796 Simeon published a book of one hundred “skeletons” of expository sermons, and increased it to five hundred outhnes five years later (he claimed that he had put over seven thousand hours of work into those five hundred outhnes). He had discovered An Essay on the Composition of Sermons by the French preacher Jean Claude, and had received great help from it; so he translated it and made it available to English readers.
Eventually, this little book of sermon skeletons grew into a large set of books containing 2,536 outhnes and covering the entire Bible.3 His critics called these skeletons nothing but a valley of dry bones, but Charles Spurgeon recommended them. “Be a prophet,” he said, “and they will live!”
As he grew in grace and in his ministry, Simeon had to battle his aristocratic nature and learn love and humility. In his early years he was demanding and autocratic, but the Holy Spirit prevailed, and he learned to minister in love. He was orthodox in his doctrine, but he knew that orthodoxy alone was not sufficient for an effective ministry. He wrote: “True, you are not to keep back the fundamental doctrines of the gospel: but there are different ways of stating them; and you should adopt that which expresses kindness and love, and not that which indicates an unfeeling harshness.”
He saw the pastor as a combination of spiritual father, heavenly ambassador, and watchman on the wall. He often quoted Ezekiel 33:8 and reminded his people that the minister must warn as well as encourage. The text he chose for his own epitaph was 1 Corinthians 2:2, and it accurately describes his ministry. “My aim in the style of preaching,” he said, “is to do it so plainly and simply that all may understand and be ready to say, ‘I could have made as good a sermon myself.’”
Simeon was concerned that evangelical men be assigned to the various churches, so he used his wealth to “buy up” benefices and give them to qualified men. In those days, in the Anglican Church, the buildings and ministry of various churches were actually owned by wealthy patrons, and the right to appoint the pastor could be purchased. Simeon set up a Patronage Trust to oversee this special ministry, and as a result, godly evangelical men were put into the churches, much to the regret of the liberal opposition.
Simeon traveled widely in Great Britain, preaching wherever the doors were open to him. He was always true to the Anglican Church, but he was open to sincere believers everywhere. He had a special burden for missions and helped to found the Church Missionary Society. He also had a burden for the Jews and came very close to a premillennial view of the future of Israel. He founded a chapel in Amsterdam for witness to the Jews there.
In 1813, Simeon instituted what he called “conversation parties,” informal Friday evening fellowships at which he would answer questions relating to the spiritual life. These parties were the means of encouraging many young Christians in the faith. He also started summer “house parties” for clergymen and their wives, to give them opportunity for relaxation combined with spiritual fellowship and encouragement. Simeon might well be considered the father of the summer pastoral institute program.
In 1832, Simeon commemorated the fiftieth anniversary of his ministry, and by this time he had either silenced or outlasted all of his enemies. He gave a dinner for several hundred of the poorer churchgoers, received congratulations from many famous people, and preached a stirring sermon from 2 Peter 1:12–15. There was harmony in the church, the buildings were being renovated, and the gospel was going forth with clarity and power. He had come a long way from those days when his church officers had locked him out of his own church.
It was the courageous preaching of the Word of God that had brought about the change. Simeon wrote that his test for preaching was: Does it humble the sinner? Does it exalt the Savior? Does it promote holiness? Critics might call his twenty-one volumes of outhnes dead skeletons, but they throbbed with life when he preached them. At one service, a little girl asked her mother, “Mama, what is the gentleman in a passion about?” The answer: he was in a passion to proclaim Jesus Christ and him crucified.
Charles Simeon died, honored and full of days, on November 13, 1836. Even though it was market day, the town closed all the shops for his funeral, and the university canceled all lectures. Nearly two thousand people, including the robed academic community, paid tribute to the man who had remained true to the Word during fifty-four years of difficult ministry. The people would not hear his voice again, but the word that he preached would go on, and the men he had influenced and trained would continue the ministry.
Charles Simeon by Handley Moule (InterVarsity Press), is a warm biography written by a Bible scholar sympathetic to Simeon’s position. A more recent work is Charles Simeon of Cambridge by Hugh Evan Hopkins (Eerdmans). If you want to read some of his university sermons, secure Let Wisdom Judge, edited by Arthur Pollard and published by InterVarsity Press. Simeon’s Bible outhnes were reprinted some years ago by Zondervan, but are now out of print.
What does Charles Simeon say to us today—even those of us who might not totally agree with his views of the church? For one thing, preach the Word. For another, stay with the job in spite of opposition. He would also urge us to reproduce ourselves in others so that the ministry might continue and grow. Finally, he would set the example for disciplined prayer and study. He spent the first four hours of every day with God, and he grew because of it.
The aristocrat in the pulpit was truly an ambassador from God.