Part 3 of 16

Part 2 (pages 22–35)

Part 2 (pages 22–35)

He knew some of the Bible’s promises by that time— especially what Christ said regarding prayer. He was puz- zled about straightforward New Testament promises such as, “Ask, and it shall be given you; seek, and ye shall find; knock, and it shall be opened unto you: For every one that asketh receiveth; and he that seeketh findeth; and to him that knocketh it shall be opened” (Matthew 7:7-8). Why did not God answer prayers such as.this one, if a person prayed in faith?

Another facet of prayer that was perplexing to Charles was that of asking for the Holy Spirit. He knew that Christ declared that He was more willing to give the Holy Spirit than parents were willing to give good gifts to their children. But why, when the people prayed continually for the outpouring of the Holy Spirit, did they not receive what they asked? ;

Charles also noticed that “they exhorted each other to wake up and be engaged, and to pray earnestly for a revival of religion, asserting that if they did their duty, prayed for the outpouring of the spirit, and were in earnest, that the spirit of God would be poured out, that they would have a revival. of religion, and that the im- penitent would be converted. But in their prayer and conference meetings they would continually confess substantially, that they were making no progress in secur- ing a revival of religion.”

Such inconsistency in people’s prayers weighed on him. He puzzled over these people either not being true Christians and therefore not prevailing with God; or per- haps he misunderstood the promises and biblical teach- ings on the subject of prayer. Then again, maybe the were before: my. ey! At one prayer meeting when asked if he desired peo: is to pray for him, he refused, stating, “No. Because. Ido™ - hot see that God answers’ your prayers.”, He added: “y suppose | I need to be prayed for, for I am ‘conscious that Tam a sinner; but I do not see that it will do any. good for you to pray for me; for you are continually asking, but

you do not receive. You have been praying for arevival of

‘religion ever since I have been in Adams, and yet you. “have it not. You have been praying for: the Holy. Spirit to’ & descend upon yourselves, and yet complaining of your - leanness. You have prayed enough since Ihave. attended” ~ these meetings to have prayed the devil out of. Adams,

if there is any virtue in your prayers: But here you are” ae

‘praying on, and complaining still” Charles’s questioning continued seemingly without any answers... Es As he: looked: more closely. at:the Scriptures, however, He he wondered if ‘the people failed 'to-meet the. conditions * . for. prayer. Their. prayers, it’ seemed: to him,- were not. being prayed i in faith. After struggling with this situation’ “for years, he finally concluded that in spite of whatever - _ he didn’t understand, or. the people or the: pastor’ didn’ t. : understand, the Bible was the true Word of God. : Once he grasped this fact, Charles “was brought, face S to face with the question: whether I would accept Christ © as presented-in the gospel, or pursue a worldly course: of life. At this period, my mind, as I have since known, was. : oe much inpsesie by the e Holy Spirit, that I could hot long leave this question unsettled; nor could I long hesi- tate between the two courses: of life presented to me.” Whatever decision he reached, Charles knew that the consequences would last for time and eternity. »

Standard orthodox beliefs were held by people such as President Timothy Dwight of Yale, in New Haven, Connecticut. Although Yale had also been infiltrated by heresies such as deism and ideas from the French En- lightenment following the French Revolution, Dwight insisted on sound orthodox doctrine. When he became president of the school in 1785, he preached from an orthodox viewpoint, and revival broke out in 1800. That same year, a frontier awakening shook Kentucky, and the , Holy Spirit began to stir other areas of the young nation as well.

Another New England divinity school, Harvard College, did not share in the religious awakening. Its pro- fessor of divinity, Henry Ware, came to Harvard in 1805 and persuaded many of the students to believe in Unitar- ianism. Another Unitarian, Noah Worchester, published a newspaper called Bible News, in which he set forth Uni- tarian beliefs.

In 1819, William Ellery Channing, a popular and influential Boston pastor, declared in his ordination mes- sage that the divinity of Christ was an illogical doctrine. Further, he rejected the idea of the depravity of man. Channing also preached that Christ’s Passion accom- plished little more than moral or spiritual deliverance through instruction, example, and death. He was not con- vinced that Christ’s death paid the penalty for sin.

Another belief prevalent in New England at that time was Universalism. One Universalist preacher, the Rever- end John Murray, stated in 1770 that “Christ’s righteous- ness is upon all his seed; by his simple act many are made righteous.” Murray believed that salvation was universal— under me.” He admitted, too, that “I never received such instruction as I needed. For if I had, I should have been converted at once.” Of course, the prayer meetings also hindered Finney’s finding real faith. As he said, the peo- ple’s prayers seemed to go nowhere. They were lifeless and futile.

Eventually Pastor Gale gave up on Finney. He advised the young people, “Don’t pray for Charles Finney. He’s too critical ever to find salvation.” Gale believed that Charles had sinned against “so much light he is incapable of receiving the grace of God.” Even Charles’s influence on the choir he directed, according to Gale, would prevent the choir members from finding salvation. Nevertheless, many faithful believers continued to pray for Charles, in- cluding Lydia Root Andrews, a young lady from Whites- town, New York.

Despite the hindrances to Charles’s ever obtaining sal- vation, he was favorably impressed by Gale and the church ministry—more so than the minister could have imagined. As Charles later admitted, “At Adams; for the first time, I sat regularly for a length of time, under an educated ministry.”

In the summer of 1821, Pastor Gale took a trip to visit a sick sister. He left his.pulpit to Jedediah Burchard with the instructions to do no more than read sermons. from a ‘book and give some exhortation. However, the Holy Spirit began to move the congregation, and Finney sensed that a revival was beginning in Adams. When Charles heard a man praying one day in a schoolhouse as he returned from a legal appointment, he became uneasy.

“That praying did more to impress my mind with the subject of religion, than all I had heard before,” he later reflected.

He became increasingly disturbed about his condition. He began asking himself some serious questions. In spite of the sermons not being logical to him, was there truth in what Pastor Gale preached? Were the church members’ prayers really sincere? Even though the church people’s prayers went largely unanswered, was there validity in their prayers? What about the Bible itself? Was it really the truth? Finally, he asked, “Does a person actually need a personal experience of Jesus Christ more than anything on earth? What must one do to be a genuine Christian?”

These: were questions Charles had to ask. He had asked the people around him: about their faith; now the tables: were turned. It was up to him to answer his own questions. As Charles faced his questions squarely, the truth of the gospel began to break in upon him.

Charles recounted in later years the remarkable events which followed. swiftly as the ° light of the gospel broke upon him: .

On a sabbath evening in the autumn of 1821, I made up my mind that I would settle the question of my soul’s salvation at once, that if it were pos- sible I would make my peace with God. But as I was very busy in the affairs of the office, I knew that without great firmness of purpose, I would never effectually attend to the subject. I therefore, then and there resolved, as far as possible, to avoid all business, and everything that would divert my attention, and to give myself wholly to the work of securing the salvation of my soul. I carried this resolution into execution as sternly and thoroughly as I could. I was, however, obliged to be a good deal in the office. But as. the providence of God would have it, I was not much occupied either on Monday or Tuesday; and had opportunity to read my Bible and engage in . prayer most of the time.

But I was very proud without knowing it. I had supposed that I had not much regard for the opin- ions of others, whether they. thought this or that in regard to myself; and I had in fact been quite sin- gular in attending prayer meetings, and in the degree of attention that I had paid to religion, while in Adams. In this respect, I had been so sin- gular as to leave the church at times to think that I must be an anxious inquirer. But I found, when I came to face the question, that I was very unwill- ing to have anyone know that I was seeking the. salvation of my soul. When I prayed, I would only whisper my prayer, after having stopped the keyhole to the door, lest someone should discover that I was engaged in prayer. Before that time I had my Bible lying on the table-with the law books; and it never had occurred:to me to be ashamed of being found reading it, any more that I should be.ashamed of being found reading any other of my books.

But after I-had addressed myself i in earnest to the subject.of my own salvation, I kept my Bible, as much as I could, out of sight. If I was reading : ots mn) case; and: give: mérthe directib that needed. For the same‘ reasons:I: avoided conversation ‘with sthe:élders: Of “the chiireh,or.

should sink down’ to-hel ahd feltialmos like screaming; nevertheléss; Tequieted. myse Has be best

A311.

I could until morning.

At an early hour I started for the office. But just before I arrived at the office, something seemed to confront me-with questions like these: indeed, it seemed as if the inquiry was within myself as if an inward voice said to me, “What are you waiting for? Did you not promise to give your heart to God? And what are you trying to do? Are you en-deavoring to work out a right- eousness of your own?”

Just at that point the whole question of God’s salvation opened to my mind in a manner most marvellous to-me at that time. I think I saw then, as clearly as I ever had in my life, the reality and fullness of the atonement of Christ. I saw that His work was a finished work; that instead of having, or needing, any righteousness of my own to rec- ommend me to God, I had to submit myself to the righteousness of God through Christ. It was full and complete; and all that was necessary on my part was to get.my own consent to give.up my sins, and accept Christ. Salvation, it seemed to me, instead of being a thing to be wrought out, by one’s own works, was a thing to be found entirely in the Lord Jesus Christ, who presented Himself before meas my God and my Savior.

Without being distinctly aware of it, I had stopped in the street right where the inward voice seemed to arrest me. How long I remained in that position I cannot say, but after this distinct reve- lation had stood for some little time before my mind, the question seemed to be put, ‘Will you accept it now, today?” I replied, “Yes; I will accept today, or I will die in the attempt.”

' North of the village inn, and over a hill, lay a grove of woods, in which I was in the almost daily habit of walking, more or less, when it was pleasant weather. It was now October, and the time was past for my frequent walks.there. Never- theless, instead of going to my office, I turned and bent my course towards the woods, feeling that I must be alone, and away from all human eyes and ears, so that I could pour out my prayer. - to God. : But still my pride must show itself. As I went over the hill, it occurred to me that someone might see me and suppose that I,was going away to pray. Yet, probably there.was not a person on earth that would have suspected such a thing, had he seen me going. But so great was my pride, and so much was I possessed with the fear of man, that I recollect that I skulked along under the _ fence till I got so far out of sight that no one Jrom the village could see me. I then penetrated * into the woods. I should think, a quarter of a mile, went over to the other side of the hill, and found a place where some large trees had fallen across: each other, leaving an open place between. There I saw I could make‘a kind of closet. I crept into this place and knelt down for prayer. As I turned to go up into the woods, I recollect to have said,

“I will give my heart to God, or I will never:come

~ 33 down from there.” I recollect repeating this as I went up—“I will give my heart to God before.I .: ever come down again.”

But when I attempted to pray I I found that my heart could not pray. I had supposed that if I could only.be where I could speak aloud, without being overheard, I could pray freely. But lo! when I came to.try, I was dumb; that is, had. nothing to say to'God; or at least I could say but a few words, and those without-heart. In attempt- ing to pray I would hear a rustling in the leaves,” as I thought, and would stop and look up to see if someone were not coming. This I did several times. :

Finally I-found myself verging fast to despair. I said to myself, “I cannot pray. My heart is dead to God, and I will not pray.” I then-reproached myself for having promised to give my heart to God before I left the woods. When I came to try, I found I could not give my heart to God. My inward soul hung back, and there was no going out of my heart to God. I began to feel deeply that it-was too late; that it must be that I was given up of God and was passed over.

As Charles struggled with these dismal thoughts, he was in considerable anguish. He mulled over ideas about God and salvation, the way of salvation, and conviction of sin over and over in his mind. How much he wanted to be free from guilt and condemnation! He could only hope he was near the end of his quest.

↑ Back to top

↑