I will win them with Guile
I will win them with Guile
Word that George Whitefield was still in London brought thousands to hear him before he left for America. “His voice is like thunder straight to the heart, and ‘tis the sweetest sound anyone ever heard,” a shopkeeper told his customers. “The Bible comes alive,” another added. “God has raised up this man for this hour, for England,” others cried. George preached as often as he could, but the time to sail to America was close.
James had taken a holiday from the bookstore to help George. It had been a long day and the landlady had sent up some refreshments. As they both sat down to eat James said, “You are leaving behind hundreds of new believers in London alone. The need for Religious Societies where they can come together to study the Bible and pray is growing. The small Society I began is too full already, and we must begin another one.”
George sat up straight. “And then another and another, James. I pray that Societies like yours will spring up all over England. Until the clergy begin to wake up and preach the truth, the Societies will be greatly needed. Our people must pray with us for men like you, James, to lead them.”
Christmas came, George and James and a group of friends had spent the whole night praying! The following morning they went to church. The others had gone ahead, and as James and George walked together, George said, “After waiting for General Oglethorpe all this past year, it’s hard to believe I’m to sail without him come the end of this Christmas week. I wish you were coming, James, but I’ll write all the news as often as I can.” George smiled at his friend. “I shall miss you, my brother.”
“I will miss seeing you in my little bookstore looking through books and pointing out every treasure you find. But I will not miss all the buying you’ve had us all doing for the colony. All those books, clothes for the poor, cloth, thread, buttons, tin pots, penknives, shot, gunpowder, scissors, spoons, nails, axes, saws, shovels, and more, will finally be aboard ship. And we may all give thanks for that!” He laughed heartily.
“True, my supplies mount up,” George said, “and there is still the baggage our little group of six will take. Our two teachers for the school we hope to start have more books, our two housekeepers have packed their pots and kettles, and James Habersham my assistant, has gathered enough quills, sealing wax, and stationery for a store.”
At the end of the week George and those going with him boarded the ship. It was to sail within the next two days. George was in his cabin when a ship from Georgia arrived bearing John Wesley.
John had left the mission field in Georgia. The strict disciplined life he preached had failed to win over the people or the magistrates in the colony. No one wanted him to stay. When he heard that George Whitefield was already on board the ship to take him to Georgia, he did not know if he should try to stop him or let him go. When John wanted guidance from God he would cast lots. On a slip of folded paper he wrote the words, “let him return to London” and on another slip of paper “let him sail on to Georgia.” Wesley closed his eyes and chose. The paper he chose said “let him return to London.” Quickly John sent the message he was sure God had given him, with a note that George should not sail.
George read the note from John. His heart sank. “This casting of lots for guidance cannot be what God intends. I must try to see John before we leave port,” he told the little group on board with him. But John had already left, and George returned to the ship and quickly wrote a letter to him. “I cannot turn back and desert my job as chaplain to the hundred soldiers aboard ship, or those others with me. And with you back in England the colony is without a shepherd. I must go, John. God will be with me there as he has been wherever he sends me.”
George and his little group stood on deck as their ship, The Whitaker left the port, and soon all of England behind. Two other ships, The Amy and The Lightfoot traveled alongside The Whitaker, all of them headed first for Gibraltar to pick up more soldiers. The new soldiers, along with those already on board were needed to defend the colony of Georgia against the Spanish invasions from Florida.
As chaplain aboard ship, George decided to begin with public prayers the very next morning. No one came. Neither the soldiers nor the sailors, and not even the captain wanted a minister on board. None were friendly, and someone shouted loudly enough for him to hear, “Imposter, fake!” Instead of coming to the service, men gathered in little groups to play cards. Curses rose as they played. One man loudly used a handmade instrument not far from where George stood. George looked long and thoughtfully around him before he left.
Back in his room, he went quickly to his knees. “Lord Jesus, make me your servant, not just to these soldiers and sailors, but to the women and children and others aboard, and not just on this ship but I ask for all three ships in this convoy. Lord, help me to catch them with a holy guile!” When he rose from his knees he knew what he must do. He began by visiting the sick. Life on ship was hard and many were ill with fevers. George tended to them and used some of the medicines and nourishing foods he had brought with him. His sage tea and broth were welcomed. Evenings and mornings he read prayers as was the rule in the Church of England. Before a week was up he began a Bible class for soldiers. At first six men came and a week later the number increased to twenty. Slowly, George began to add preaching to the reading of prayers. But he was also finding his way into the lives of the officers, the surgeon, and the sailors.
He took breakfast with the gentlemen, gently letting a word or two for God enter the table talk, and sometimes it led to more discussion. He spoke to the surgeon who welcomed his interest. At night he walked on deck to talk to the chief mate and a sergeant. At eleven at night he sat down with the sailors in the steerage, and spoke with them, gently turning conversations to the things of God. It began to work and soon George was able to start a Bible class for the women on board while his assistant Habersham taught their children. Soldiers or sailors who wanted to learn to read and write were invited. Captain Whiting, the ship’s Master, now gave George the use of his cabin for private prayer and study. Within a week the Captain asked George to read prayers and give a private sermon for himself and his officers.
It was not long before the gospel opened the Captain’s heart to a deep concern for the soldiers on board. He ordered chairs to be put on deck with planks across them for benches so that everyone on board could come for services. The Whitaker became a floating chapel, including a male choir of soldiers who could sing. George’s heart was full of praise to the Lord. However, it was soon to be tested when the calm seas turned ugly.
The morning began with a darkened sky and a wind that blew hard. By midnight a terrible storm broke upon the ship with gale force winds. By four in the morning the sea was a fearful sight as George went on deck. “Lord,” he prayed, “protect us and all who are aboard this ship.” He had never seen such an awful storm. The waves rose up mountain high and when they crashed upon the high quarterdeck he couldn’t help whispering, “How great is your power, Lord!” With the next crashing wave he and his friend Habersham were forced to crawl on their knees to reach the people between decks who needed comforting. For a while the two sang Psalms and tried to calm the terrified people. Things fell and rolled around them as the ship rocked. The calmness George felt was from the Lord. But around him in the dim swaying lantern light children cried and many were seasick. The foul smells and heat between the decks made even George a little sick. When the storm was over and the ship finally reached Gibraltar, a military outpost known as the Rock, George was glad to go ashore along with the others.
At Gibraltar George was asked to preach. By the time the ship was ready to sail God had again done a mighty work. Crowds of a thousand filled the church, soldiers begged to sail on the Whitaker to be with him. Many came with gifts of food for the voyage. Back on board George visited the sailors as he had before, and now the men welcomed him gladly.
When the ships entered the trade winds and the sea was calm, all three ships drew close so that those on all the vessels could hear George preach.
Still not yet twenty-four, he stood to preach with the captains standing on either side of him. The beat of the drum called the soldiers to service, and to George the men in their red coats were like a forest aflame on the decks. God’s gift of a mighty yet musical voice needed no more than the open sky and sea. Amazingly, when he preached his voice carried clearly to each of the vessels.
George and his helpers filled up the hours on board ship with ministry, but it was soon to be an even greater task. “Come quickly, Reverend Whitefield,” the surgeon’s boy cried. “There’s fever below decks like we ain’t seen afore. People are falling sick everywhere.” George and Habersham followed the boy below. Already twenty or more folks lay moaning and burning up with fever. Day and night George tended the sick while the surgeon cared for new cases as the number of sick grew until at last there were no more new cases.
The final days on ship were filled with visits from soldiers and sailors who wanted to let George know what God had done in their lives on this trip. The sailor, who had called him an imposter that first day came to say, “I want to serve my Lord Jesus the rest of my life.” George’s heart was full of joy. The trip to America had taken four months by the time the Whitaker anchored off the coast of the colony of Georgia. They were about to step into the new world!
Savannah, Georgia was a clearing in the forest with about a hundred primitive cabins and a population of five hundred people. The southernmost settlement, a hundred miles away was a military outpost of roughly a hundred people. Between Savannah and Fredericka lay a handful of small villages. Counting those who had come with George less than a thousand people lived in Georgia. The first thing George did was to visit the Magistrates of the colony who received him kindly. He began services the next morning in the village town hall. It was also the church, with benches for the people, a gallery for the officials and a pulpit for the minister. Seventeen people attended. “It’s a good beginning,” George said.
James only smiled. George Whitefield would only preach to seventeen once. After that the town hall that only held a hundred would be packed and soon too small. James was right!
George was eager to visit all the settlements in the colony to help wherever he could. “Everywhere we go, James,” he said, “the people’s hearts are hungry for God’s word.” They were also poor and in need of the many supplies George had wisely brought with him. From Savannah to Frederica George carried out his plan to set up little schools for the children. “They are the hope of the future of Georgia,” he said, “and must have a good education that includes the Bible and Christian living. In Georgia many of the people were debtors released from prison and transported to the colony for a new beginning. It was a harsh life for many of them who were poor and unskilled at farming. Some colonists were Swedish, some German. George gave out tools and supplies, purchased livestock for needy families, and even barrels of flour for a poor baker, and the good news of Jesus to all of them.
Three times a week George read to a houseful of people who could not read the Bible for themselves. He taught and preached, baptized children, and reached out with love and gentleness to the people. One farmer said, “Reverend Whitefield’s the only man of God I ever heard talk so plain and easy with the likes of us.” It was the same for servants, children, officials, young or old, transported prisoners, all who heard him found his messages plain and easy. They felt as if God meant the words truly for them. But for George, one heavy burden tugged at his heart: the terrible lives of the colony’s orphan children.
Sadly, the number of orphan children in the colony was a growing problem. Life in Georgia, a frontier colony settled only three years ago, was hard and many parents died. Children left poor and orphaned were often abused, badly clothed, poorly fed, sometimes half-starved. Some were taken to work for a master or mistress who treated them as property and cared little for their welfare. When Governor General Oglethorpe a kind-hearted man, saw the terrible needs of the children and asked the new minister, Mr. Whitefield to establish an orphanage, George could hardly wait to begin.
When George came home and announced, “I have just been given the right to build an orphanage, thank the Lord, friends,” those who had come with him cheered. No one was surprised. From the first days on the Whitaker, George had talked of the schools they would have for children. The terrible plight of orphans in the new world had gone straight to his heart!
George was young and strong and he knew how to plan! “With God’s blessing this orphanage will become a refuge for children where they will find protection and care,” he told the others. “We must do more than clothe and feed them; we will teach the Bible, educate them and help shape their characters.”
On his way to the town hall, George stepped over muddy ruts in the path that was the main road. Here in the poorest colony, surrounded by wilderness and dangers there was no money to build decent roads, or to support an orphanage. He must take word of the needs of the colony and its orphans back to England where God’s people could give to help the work in Georgia. Four months later the people who now loved him accompanied him as he took his leave.
George waved. When would he see them again or set foot in this place on the edges of the American frontier he had already come to love? He would take one more step before he returned to America. In England he would be ordained as a priest in the Church of England. George waved a final goodbye.