John Wesley and the Methodist Revival
[Excerpts taken from "John Wesley" , by Basil Miller, BETHANY
HOUSE PUBLISHERS, available online at: http://www.amazon.com . In the search
section, type in "John Wesley, by Basil Miller." For a complete description of
this amazing revival of the 18th century Christian Church be sure to
order the book. The book starts out slow but turns into a real
page-turner.]
"Samuel, a wandering cleric, was often in London and left
the management of his parish to Susannah with the assistance of a curate.
Doubtless Susannah and the growing John looked upon the jaunts as a waste of
the minister's time. There was one trip, however, he made which was not all
lost. And that was the London safari during which he obtained the
scholarship for John. Concerning this he writes:
"I've a younger son at
home whom the Duke of Buckingham has this week written down for his going into
the Charterhouse as soon as he's of age: so that my time has not been all lost
in London."
That younger son was John. Though the letter was written
when John was eight, still he was assured of an open road toward a qualifying
education for whatever task he should undertake in his mature
years.
When Methodism's future sire entered Charterhouse he was in no
wise handicapped by a lack of routine or formal training. For the private
education he had received from Mother Susannah not only taught him learning
from books but drilled into his system, both mental and spiritual, the
principles of plain living and high thinking. At this time he was "a diligent
and successful scholar and a patient and forgiving boy, who had at home been
inured not indeed to oppression but to the hard living and scanty
fare."
John was admitted as a charity scholar on the Sutton Foundation,
along with forty-three other boys who were unable to pay their way. He received
his meals in the dining hall and being small for his age, the older boys robbed
his platter of the tastier morsels.
"From ten to fourteen," John later
writes, "I had little but bread to eat and not great plenty of that. I believe
this was so far from hurting me that it laid the foundation of lasting
health."...While the youthful Wesley was busy polishing his mind he became lax
in keeping his religious diligence up to par. Rather than abetting his
religious growth his stay at Charterhouse had the reverse effect.
This
caused him to say, "Outward restraints being removed, I was much more negligent
than before, even of outward duties, and almost continually guilty of outward
sins, which I knew to be such, though they were not scandalous in the eye of
the world. However, I still read the Scriptures, and said my prayers morning
and evening. And what I now hoped to be saved by was--(1) not being so bad as
other people; (2) having still a kindness for religion; and (3) reading the
Bible, going to church and saying my prayers."
Tyerman in commenting on
John's stay at Charterhouse doubtless overdraws the picture of Wesley's
character derelictions when he says, "Terrible is the danger when a child
leaves a pious home for a public school. John Wesley entered the Charterhouse a
saint, and left it a sinner."...
John was a diligent student at this
time, for Samuel Jr., writes to his father saying, "Jack is a brave boy,
learning Hebrew as fast as he can." Charterhouse, however, was but the
springboard into the broader world of education and training for John.
Finishing his course there in 1719 he was soon on his way to Oxford, where his
life was to be chiseled by the hammer of divine providence.
THE OXFORD DON
Wesley entered Christ Church, Oxford, on June 24, 1720,
receiving a scholarship of approximately $200 a year, or L40. It was this along
with a few scant gifts from the Epworth homefolk that made his university days
possible. Oxford did little to improve John's spiritual life.
In reality
the university had struck one of the low levels of its scholastic and religious
history, and had little to offer the student save a boarding place, a room in
which to study and lectures to attend. Degrees were given for residence on the
basis that the university was inhabited by students in residence implied the
habit of study.
Gibbon entering Oxford forty years later said of his
stay, "They proved the fourteen months the most idle and unprofitable of my
whole life...The fellows...from the toil of reading, or thinking, or writing,
they had absolved their conscience..."
Little is known of John's
undergraduate life, save that due to his lack of money he lived almost as a
recluse. A contemporary describes him as "a very sensible, active collegian,
baffling every man by the subtleties of his logic, and laughing at them for
being so easily routed; a young fellow of the finest classical tastes, of the
most liberal and many sentiments, gay and sprightly with a turn for wit and
humor."
Here he was to remain until after his ordination as deacon in
1725. Wesley makes little reference to his studies, but gives us to understand
that his religious life was little better than during his Charterhouse
days.
"I still said my prayers," he remarks, "both in public and
private; and read, with the Scriptures, several other books of religion,
especially comments on the New Testament. Yet I had not all this while so much
as a notion of inward holiness; nay, went on habitually and for the most part
very contentedly in some or other known sin; though with some intermission and
short struggles, especially before and after Holy Communion which I was
obligated to receive twice a year."...
When John was twenty-two, the
year after taking his degree, he came to a turning point in his career. Living
under Susannah's constant oversight and training until he was ten, he found
implanted in his heart a bearing toward the ministry. Nor could it be thought
singular that such was the case, since his heritage had brought down to him
stories of those time-defying curates who had marked his ancestry. He could not
have been Samuel's son and not inclined toward the pulpit, much less Susannah's
pupil.
This bent toward the ministry as a life occupation came to the
fore in 1725. Though he was outwardly a churchman still the flame of divine
fire flickered low in his life during his educational career. For more than
twelve years he had been away from home, living in an atmosphere of culture and
training. This had dulled the keen edge of his religious sentiments.
He
had become a gay collegian, a favorite in any society, a wit, whose repute for
scholarship was high, but whose religious life was indifferent. Late one
evening he met the college porter, a deeply pious man, with whom the don began
to speak. The poorly clad porter was urged to go home for a coat, the evening
being cold. In return the porter thanked God for the one coat he had on, as
well as for water--his only drink during the day. When John asked him what else
there was to be thankful for, said the porter, "I will thank Him I have the dry
stones to lie upon."
Being urged by John to continue, the servant said,
"I thank Him that He has given me my life and being, a heart to love Him, and a
desire to serve Him."
Returning to his room that evening John began to
feel there were emotional depths to salvation he had not plumbed. He was a
stranger to such sentiments. He wrote to his parents about this urge to enter
the life of a cleric. His father replied that he should not enter the priestly
office "just to have a piece of bread."...
There were deep springs of
spiritual overflowing down in Susannah's heart which kept bubbling to the
surface in the form of advice to her son. She had taught him aright while
directing his early education, and now beyond the pale of her immediate
influence, she wanted young John to be certain of his relationship to Christ.
In reality it was her own experience of redemption through Christ that mothered
the Methodist revival...
John's heart was warmed toward such
sentiments, for recently he had been reading Thomas Kempis' Imitation of
Christ, and Taylor's Holy Living and Dying, as he was later to read
Law's Christian Perfection. These books awakened his conscience, and
began to toll a bell in his mind, the burst of whose melody had but faintly
sounded since leaving home.
"The providence of God," writes Wesley,
"directing me to Kempis' Christian Pattern, I began to see that true
religion was seated in the heart, and that God's law extended to all our
thoughts as well as words and actions...I set apart two hours a day for
religious retirement. I communicated every week. I watched against all sin,
whether in word or deed. I began to aim at and pray for inward holiness..."
THE HOLY CLUB
While John was serving as his father's curate at Wroote, great
things were happening at Oxford, which as a strange providence were to give
birth to Methodism. Wesley's soul was longing for the highway that led to
religious freedom. He was striving outwardly to conform his life to spiritual
standards, while the inner glow making this possible failed to spark to
flame...
He began to attend the Sacraments weekly and to induce others
to join him in this search for righteousness. He and his companions adopted
rules for the governing of their lives, directing their religious activities,
allotting their time carefully for study and churchly duties. In this
time-charting they gave little attention or space allocation to sleep or food,
and as much as possible to religion.
It was a small group that circled
around Charles [John's brother] but their weekly trip to Oxford cathedral
caught the attention of an undergraduate who said, "Here is a new set of
Methodists sprung up."
Charles says the word Methodist "was
bestowed upon himself and his friends because of their strict conformity to the
method of study prescribed by the university." However the name was first used
as, and in its connotation it came to bear, an approbrious designation, and
later when John referred to it, he did so with a consciousness that it was used
in a derogatory manner.
In an early sermon John speaks of his associates
as "the people in derision called Methodists." In his English Dictionary he
defines a Methodist as "one that lives according to the method laid down
in the Bible."
On October 21, 1729, Dr. Morley, the Rector of Lincoln,
informed Wesley that as a junior fellow he must attend his duties in person,
and sent him an invitation to return to Oxford. On returning to the university
John found the little group of Methodists in action, and at once became their
leader.
His age as well as his scholarship made it inevitable that he
should assume this position. Various names were applied to these methodical
religionists as fellow students viewed them. Some spoke of them as
Sacramentarians, Bible Moths, Bible Bigots; two names, however rapidly gained
the ascendancy--Methodists and the Holy Club.
John was nicknamed
"curator of the Holy Club," or sometimes "the father of the Holy
Club."...
The first work of the Holy Club was Bible study. While other
items were on the agenda, the searching of the Scripture was the paramount one.
[putting on the Armour of God.]
"From the very beginning," said Wesley,
"from the time that four young men united together, each of them was homo
unius libri, a man of one book...They had one and only one rule of
judgment...They were continually reproached for this very thing, some terming
them in derision Bible Bigots, others, Bible Moths, feeding, they said, upon
the Bible as moths do on cloth...And indeed...it is their constant endeavor to
think and speak as the oracles of God."
This was to be the fundamental
issue in the growth of Methodism, and wherever you find John during the long
decades of his career, he was still a Bible Moth.
So great was this love
of the Bible that in his later life he wrote his Notes on the New
Testament, which in its day was a classic and created a favorable
impression outside Methodist ranks.
The members of the club at first met
Sunday evenings, and this in time became a twice-weekly session when they
gathered for Bible study and discussion. At length these meetings became
nightly, from six to nine o'clock. Those famous sessions were begun by
beseeching God's benedictions upon their lives. After this prayer season they
opened their Greek Testament for a period of searching the Scripture in the
original language. This was followed by a brief study of the classics. The
evening was climaxed by a detailed review of the day, an outlining of
tomorrow's tasks and, finally, a frugal supper.
Along with the weekly
celebration of the Lord's Supper, they also set aside two days each week for
fasting and prayer, and laid out a set of rules by which each member was to try
himself before the bar of conscience...This chart [get the book to see the
list, found on pages 34-35] is a worthy ideal for attaining and diligently did
John try to align his outward life and inner soul with its regulations. He
lived with such severity that often one wonders whether he did not do himself a
grave injustice...
It was this diligence in keeping his outward life
conformed to his spiritual idea that was the source of his power with others.
As the Holy Club leader John realized that great was his responsibility not
only for rules but for building those regulations into living
experiences...
Charles became the singer of the Methodist revival as
John was to be its organizer. The third member was George Whitefield, the
outstanding evangelist and preacher of his generation. Whitefield joined the
Holy Club through a kindness of Charles in loaning him a book to read, which
burned through the outward shell of his religious life and set aflame the
passions of his soul. No man since Paul has been more entitled to fame as a
preacher than Whitefield.
George was the son of a tavern keeper, whose
Christian mother asked him to lead the singing one day for a women's meeting.
From this kind request George's feet were turned toward the Cross. Arriving at
Oxford when eighteen, time ripened his friendship with Charles and at length he
became a new creature in Christ.
"I found and felt in myself that I was
delivered," he says, "from the burden that had so heavily oppressed me...The
Daystar arose in my heart. I know the place; it may perhaps be superstitious,
but whenever I go to Oxford I cannot help running to the spot where Jesus
Christ first revealed Himself to me and gave me a new birth." [Interesting, the
term born-again is not so new.] This was 1735, the year he cast his lot
with the Holy Club...
During 1733 John wrote two sermons which are of
enticing doctrinal import and mark a milestone in his theological thinking. The
first of these was on the need of the influence of the Holy Spirit to convert
the soul. This is the doctrine which Peter Behler was to impress on John's mind
in 1738.
"The circumcision of the heart," writes the Holy Club father,
"is that habitual disposition of soul, which in the sacred writings is termed
holiness; and which directly implies the being cleansed from sin, from all
filthiness both of flesh and spirit; and by consequence, the being endued with
those virtues which were also in Christ Jesus; the being so renewed in the
image of our mind, as to be perfect as our Father in heaven is
perfect."
This in plainest terms was Wesley's doctrine of Christian
perfection, germs of which he had dug from the writings of his friend William
Law. "This sermon," he says in 1765, "contained all that I now teach concerning
salvation from all sin, and loving God with an undivided heart." Further on in
the sermon he says "He alone (the Spirit) can quicken those who are dead unto
God and breathe into them the breath of Christian life...Those who are thus by
faith born of God have also strong consolation through hope. This is the next
thing which the circumcision of the heart implies: even the testimony of their
own spirit, with the Spirit which witnesses in their hearts, that they are the
children of God." [taken from Romans 8, obviously]
Here in this sermon,
"The Circumcision of the Heart," Wesley lays the foundation of the two
doctrines upon which the superstructure of his dogmatic position is to be
erected: Christian perfection and the witness of the Spirit. The latter
doctrine is John Wesley's one original contribution to the body of Christian
belief.
The second sermon is on the Holy Spirit who is justly given the
rightful position of import in the Christian's life. "From Him flow all grace
and virtue, by which the stains of guilt are cleansed, and we are renewed in
all holy dispositions, and again bear the image of our Creator," he
says...
It was 1734...John's father, Samuel was sick, and the end seemed
to be leaning upon the corner of the Epworth rectory. Word was sent out for one
of the boys to come hastily and take his place, else the roof should pass from
over Susannah's graying head...
Samuel Jr., wrote John implying that
since he was "despised" at Oxford he could do more good at Epworth, to which
John at once replied: "1. A Christian will be despised anywhere. 2. No one is a
Christian until he is despised. 3. His being despised will not hinder his doing
good, but much further it, by making him a better Christian. 4. Another can
supply my place better at Epworth than at Oxford, and the good done here is of
a far more diffusive nature, inasmuch as it is a more extensive benefit to
sweeten the fountain than to do the same particular streams."...
Shortly
the fate of the Club was to hang in the balance when the Wesley's sailed to
America. For awhile Whitefield held the group together until in 1738 he
followed his friends over the sea, to add luster to his own name. And one by
one members departed for other spheres of service, until the Club was no
more.
It had served its purpose by being the cradle of Methodism. Some
looked upon its first four members as being the charter members of the
Methodist Church. Nevertheless it threw around John an atmosphere of piety
where his own faith could germinate. Through three sons of genius, John,
Charles and George, gradually the spark of the Holy Club blazed at Oxford,
showered forth across England, leaped to America and the great revival was
on.
Philosophically the basic doctrines of justification by faith and
the witness of the Spirit had already been written into John's soul, yet they
were not living experiential facts. Dogmatically he knew the doctrine but he
had not yet experienced it as a soul-transforming power. How to make this
transmutation he was to learn from a humble Moravian preacher.
GOD AND JOHN IN GEORGIA
John was God's man for a decisive hour, but he was an unmade
man, who needed the tutoring of the Holy Spirit to prepare him for the
Almighty's plan. Oxford, the Holy Club and now Georgia were God's crucibles to
mold John for his great adventure...Had there been no Georgia soul-culture when
John found he could not make a success of his spiritual life without the
Spirit's personal aid, there might have been no Aldersgate.
John's
pre-Georgia religion was one of rules--rules unsparked by the divine
afflatus. It took the humiliating experience of failure beyond the sea
to teach John this needed yet costly lesson...
As God sent a whale for
Jonah, so He whirled across the path of John's boat a raging storm. Had the
boat been heavier, or the storm not blown up with the fury of doom riding in
its wake, Wesley's soul travail might have been told far otherwise than we
today read of it. [This must have been a very decent storm, and I'm a sailor.]
But the storm came and the boat being light rocked on the blood-curdling waves
of the deep. John was distraught...the passengers despaired of their
lives...the crew pictured the horrors of Davy Jones locker.
While the
storm was raging, John looked at the Moravians, whom previously he had thought
of as heavy-minded and dull-witted folk, and they were calmly singing a hymn.
The wilder the waves, the calmer the Germans sang. The storm passed as all of
God's storms do when their missions are fulfilled. But the storm in Wesley's
turbulent soul could not be quieted by the soothing efficacy of a still
sea.
"I thank God, no," came the answer from one whose soul had been
anchored to the Rock of Christ.
Then John wondered if the women and
children were afraid, for he thought the strong man might have found a source
of quietude in his physical vigor. So John asked, "But were not your women and
children afraid?"
Answered the man, "No, our women and children are not
afraid to die."
John had been previously thinking about his soul's
welfare, and when a storm arose on November 23, he entered in his diary, "Sun.
23. At night I was awakened by the tossing of the ship...and plainly showed I
was unfit, for I was unwilling to die."
But when he had gone through
that sail-ripping, ship-soaking, skin-drenching storm and had come out alive,
he was certain those Moravians had an experience to which he was a total
stranger. This discovery was a startling one and at the close of that day he
entered in his Journal, "This was the most glorious day which I have hitherto
seen."
Its glory nestled in the fact that John had sighted the Light. It
was a distant Light, but for the first time he knew of its true existence. It
was this Light which at Aldersgate was to become a personal
experience...
The following day he met the Moravian pastor, Spangenberg,
whom John at once sought out for a religious conference.
Spangenberg's
first question rocked John back on his mental heels when he asked, "My brother,
I must first ask you one or two questions. Have you the witness within
yourself? Does the Spirit of God bear witness with your spirit that you are a
child of God?" Those questions were new to Wesley, even though he had
implied the possibility of this witness in a previous sermon; yet the basis of
his implication was theoretical and not experimental.
Again the Moravian
asked, "Do you know Jesus Christ?" This was closer to John's thinking,
and so he replied, "I know He is the Saviour of the world." "True" came the
pastor's rejoinder, "but do you know He has saved you?"
This was a
leading question, the answer to which John did not know; so he hedged by
saying, "I hope He has died to save me," to be countered by Spangenberg's "Do
you know yourself?" John finally managed to mumble, "I...do."
This left
a blank in the Moravian's mind and set the mental machinery of John's cranium
whirling for two years trying to produce a true basis in his own life for the
doctrines he preached. He could not get away from Spangenberg's question, and
it was only when his heart "was strangely warmed" at Aldersgate that he was
satisfied with his own "I do" answer. When he made the entry in his Journal, he
added, "I fear they were vain words." But after Aldersgate he not once again
questioned his personal salvation. It was this assurance of salvation which
gave wings to his words and produced the revival that we know as
Methodism...
[John led the way into a new form of Praise &
Worship]
However, all of John's time in Georgia was not lost, for he
published his "Collection of Psalms and Hymns" for general congregational use.
In a preface to a reprint it is suggested that this is the first collection of
hymns in the English language, "so that in this provision for the improvement
of public worship...Wesley led the way." Among the songs were some of his
father's which had been rescued from the Epworth fire, as well as translations
Wesley made from the German.
When the storm of that trial broke there
was only one thing for John to do, and that he did at once--left for England.
He was a somber cleric, his soul shot through with doubts when on December 2,
1737, he failed, and he knew it as no other person. The high religious
standards he had set to attain in the Holy Club had eluded his spiritual grasp.
He could not get to them.
The entry in his Journal under the date of
Tuesday January 24, 1738, is tragical: "I went to America to convert the
Indians; but O! Who shall convert me? Who, what is he that shall deliver me
from this evil heart of unbelief? I have a fair summer religion. I can talk
well; nay, and believe myself while no danger is near; but let death look me in
the face, and my spirit is troubled. Nor can I say, 'To die is gain'...I show
my faith by my works by staking my all upon it...O who will deliver me from
this fear of death?"
When he landed in England on the first of February,
his soul once more wallowed in the Slough of Despond, of which his Journal
tells the turbulent story thus:
"This then have I learned in the ends of
the earth, that I 'am fallen short of the glory of God'; that my whole heart is
'altogether corrupt and abominable'...that my own works, my own suffering, my
own righteousness, are so far from reconciling me to an offended God...I want
that faith which enables everyone that hath it to cry out, 'I live not...but
Christ liveth in me'...I want that faith...when 'the Spirit itself beareth
witness with his spirit that he is a child of God.'"
THE HEART STRANGELY WARMED
John before his Georgia mistakes was not a prepared subject
for God's soul-dealings, but once having walked the fiery path that led to soul
debasement, he was in a condition where God's prophetic voices could be heard.
Up until that time John was the Oxford don, the teacher in any group, and as
such was discontent to act as a learner. Having discovered that as teacher he
was as the blind leading the spiritually blind, John was willing to throw
himself at the feet of any who possessed the true source of Christian
knowledge.
In this condition he was ready to become a spiritual learner,
and God was not long in crossing his path with the man who was to serve as his
teacher...
George Whitefield, won to the Master through Charles's
kindness, had early found the true source of divine power in his life. Finding
it, he shone as a brilliant evangelistic light. While John and Charles were
failing in America and entangling their lives in petty quarrels and religious
embarrassments, George had set to preaching. And when he arose to speak it was
as though a breeze from heaven had fanned across the audiences. Groups began to
talk and when it was announced the eloquent Oxford evangel was to bring a
message, churches were crowded to the doors. The hungry people had never heard
the like. Hearing, they went to their homes, only to return and hear
more.
George spoke on weekdays, often thirty times a week and usually
three our four times a Sunday, and weeping hearers followed him to the streets
and to his abode to get a word with him. His message was "the doctrine of the
new birth and justification by faith in Jesus Christ (which) made its way like
lightning into the hearers' consciences," as Whitefield affirms.
"I
found my brother at Oxford...and with him Peter Bohler," John enters in his
Journal under the date of March 4, "by whom I was on Sunday, the fifth, clearly
convinced of unbelief, of the want of faith whereby alone we are
saved."
This turbulency of soul caused John to despair of ever preaching
again, and he told Bohler that he would "leave off preaching. How can you
preach to others, who have not faith in yourself?" Bohler urged him to continue
his gospel work, to which John retorted, "But what can I preach?"
Preach
faith until you have it; and then because you have it, you will preach faith,"
came the Moravian's response.
John was not long in starting on this
adventure, for he says, "Accordingly, Monday 6, I began preaching this new
doctrine, though my soul started back from the work. The first person to whom I
offered salvation by faith alone was a prisoner under sentence of
death."
The condemned man arose from prayer and exclaimed, "I am now
ready to die. I know Christ has taken away my sins, and there is no condemning
for me."
John was now willing to go all the way on this new salvation
path. He was ready to cast over his forms and rituals where he felt they
constrained his spirit in worship. On the following Sunday he took a leap into
the light which was to mark an important advance in the history of his work. He
tells about this thus:
"Being in Mr. Fox's society my heart was so full
that I could not confine myself to the forms of prayer which we were accustomed
to use there. Neither do I propose to be confined to them any more, but to
pray...with form or without as I find suitable to a particular
occasion."
This was the birth of the religious freedom which was to mark
his followers. The ritualist in him was already destroyed, and the manacles had
been torn from his hands of devotion. "Soon the fetters would be broken which
bound his feet, and he would be running in the evangelical way." The following
Sunday, which was Easter, he preached in the college chapel at Lincoln, using
extempore prayer, and he closed the day with the entry in his Journal, "I see
the promise, but it is far off."
Week by week John continued his
preaching as Sundays rolled around, and meantime his searching went on with
diligence. Seeing Bohler again he was urged to find the Pearl of Great Price,
which Wesley had determined to take. Peter, relying on testimony to clinch his
dogmatics, took with him some Christian friends and visited John. Each one gave
clear testimony as to what Christ had done for them by changing their lives and
transmuting Peter's theories into living dynamic realities in their
souls.
John was thunderstruck, for it seemed too good to be true that
here were people in the flesh who possessed what he was seeking, and this
convinced him that his search was in the right direction.
I was now
thoroughly convinced," he said, "and by the grace of God, I resolve to seek it
unto the end: (1) By renouncing all dependence...upon my own works of
righteousness, on which I have grounded my hope of salvation...from my youth
up. (2) By adding to the constant use of all the other means of grace continual
prayer for this very thing, justifying, saving faith, a full reliance on the
blood of Christ shed for me; a trust in Him as my Saviour, as my sole
justification, sanctification and redemption."
This was to be no trip to
the halfway house up this rocky road to salvation John was taking. He was
determined to stop only when he had scaled the peaks and sat watching the
sunrise burst over the hills of God, and felt the glow of redemption as a
personal possession with his soul.
Charles caught the sunrise first,
after reading Luther's "Commentary on Galatians," praying, conversing with
spiritually minded people. It was on Whitsunday, 1738 while he was at the home
of a poor woman, a recent convert. Said the woman to the man sick in body and
soul: "In the name of Jesus of Nazareth, arise and believe, and thou shalt be
healed of all thy infirmities."
A friend read the words, "Blessed is the
man whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered." Charles's eyes fell
on the verse, "He hath put a new song in my mouth..." as the hallelujah chorus
swung into living action, and God's redemptive work was accomplished in his
soul.
On this Charles's believing and receiving day, John attended the
Church of St. Mary-le-Stand, grieving still that his redemption had not taken
place. Returning from the service, he wrote to a friend, "Let no one deceive us
by vain words, as if we had already attained unto this faith. By its fruits we
shall know. Do we already feel peace with God and joy in the Holy Ghost?...Does
the Spirit bear witness?...Alas with mine he does not...Let us be emptied of
ourselves and then fill us with all peace and joy in believing."
He was
on a soul search which should cease only when he had found this glorious peace.
His spiritual quest went on by the hour until Wednesday, May 24, arrived. Let
him tell the story:
"Wed. May 24--I think it was about five this morning
that I opened my Testament on these words, 'There are given unto us exceeding
great and precious promises, even that ye should be partakers of the divine
nature.'
"Just as I went out, I opened it again on those words 'Thou art
not far from the kingdom.'
"In the afternoon I was asked to go to St.
Paul's. The Anthem was, 'Out of the deep have I called unto Thee, O Lord...O
Israel, trust in the Lord; for with the Lord there is mercy...'"
During
that memorable soul-shaping day everything seemed to point John to one
thing--redemption as a soon-wrought work in his life. When evening came down
Adersgate Street not far from St. Paul's, John was unwillingly dragged to a
meeting.
"In the evening," he says, "I went very unwillingly to a
society in Aldersgate Street, where one was reading Luther's preface to the
Epistle to the Romans. About a quarter before nine, while he was describing
the change God works in the heart through faith in Christ, I felt my heart
strangely warmed..."
The change had been wrought, the divine work
accomplished. He had arrived at the peak's top and there was the sunrise of
glory in his soul.
"I felt I did trust in Christ," he goes on to relate,
"Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had take
away my sins, even mine, and saved me from the law of sin and
death."
The glory had dawned and John was on his way down the divinely
appointed path that should to a world parish lead ere his religious sun set.
Emptying himself of self, God had come in. John the bungler now became John,
the gospel workman, the mallet of whose soul was to strike the carving chisel
of his personality with such sure blows that the statue he sculptured remains
as a divinely wrought achievement.
So great was the glory, so marvelous
was the change, so grand was the experience that John could not rest until he
told it to another. The brazier's house where Charles was staying being not far
distant, John went there with the glad news, which to his soul become the most
wonderful story in the world. Walking into Charles's room he said, "I
believe..."
That was enough to set the joy bells ringing in Charles's
heart, and together the brothers lifted a song.
"towards ten my brother
was brought in triumph by a troop of our friends, and declared 'I believe.' We
sang a hymn with great joy and parted with prayer."...
Where shall my wondering soul begin:
How shall I to heaven
aspire?
A slave redeemed from death and sin,
A brand plucked from eternal
fire.
How shall I equal triumphs raise,
Or sing my great Deliverer's
praise?
This was the hymn Charles had begun on the Tuesday following
his own conversion, and with the many hundreds more he was to pen, furnished
the music for the spiritual revolution he and John were to sire.
The
biographers have debated long and loud as to what really happened at
Aldersgate. Some affirm, and these the older, that John there dropped all
ritualistic attachment to the Church of England and at that moment Methodism
was born.
"Newman renounced justification by faith," affirms Riggs, "and
clung to apostolic succession; therefore he went to Rome. Wesley embraced
justification by faith, and renounced apostolic succession; therefore his
people are a separate people from the Church of England."...
What
happened at Aldersgate? It is best to let John's own testimony stand as to the
change which his heart-warming experience brought about. Before May 24, 1738,
he felt he was not a Christian. After that date, he knew he was, and the Spirit
bore witness with his spirit that he was a child of God. The trustworthiness of
Wesley's testimony must stand or fall with the trustworthiness of our
consciousness. If the human mind is not conscious of its own awareness as the
spotlight of certainty is flashed upon it, then truth is utterly without
foundation and hence impossible.
Judged by the products of Wesley's
life, Aldersgate stands by far as the brightest spot in his life, or in the
life of anyone of his century. Before Aldersgate he was a bungler; after
Aldersgate he was a lion in God's kingdom who knew no defeat.
Returning
home the night of his Aldersgate transformation, he wrote in his Journal, "I
was much buffeted with temptations; but cried out and they fled away...And
herein I found the difference between this and my former state chiefly
consisted. I was striving, yea, fighting with all my might under the law as
well as under grace. But then I was sometimes, if not often, conquered; now, I
was always conqueror." Fitchett speaks of this entry, "Here was struggle; but
here too was victory."
John had received the witness that he was the son
of God, and this assurance gave him spiritual boldness. Henceforth he was ready
to tackle the job of converting the world by the truth of the message he had
experienced. Later he wrote to his brother Samuel, "I believe every Christian,
who has not yet received it, should pray for the witness of God's Spirit that
he is a child of God. This witness, I believe, is necessary to my
salvation."
Wesley has been termed an organizer rather than a
theologian, but he did, however, make one distinct contribution to theological
science, and that is his doctrine of the witness of the Spirit. The Moravians
taught the doctrine, but it remained for John to systematize the
dogma.
John was not content to remain idle, once he had planted his feet
on the solid rock of Christian assurance. On June 11, eighteen days after his
spiritual transformation, he preached before the University of Oxford his
famous sermon on "By grace are ye saved through faith." This message sounded
the keynote of his life-long ministry. He knew no other doctrine save this one,
and wherever we find Wesley in this post-Aldersgate term of service, this is
the message he heralds.
This doctrine of salvation by faith in Jesus to
which the Spirit bears witness became the rallying cry of the new movement
which he was soon to bring into existence. Before entering his new work, that
of being a preacher of experimental salvation, John wished to visit Herrnhut,
the colony which Zinzendorf headed and where Moravian activies
centered.
His Journal entry for June 7 reads, "I determined...to retire
a short time into Germany...And I hoped the conversing with those holy men who
were themselves living witnesses of the full power of faith, and yet able to
bear with those that are weak would be a means...of so establishing my soul,
that I might go on from faith to faith..."
From June until September of
the year 1738 he spent traveling and visiting Zinzendorf, where he obtained a
close-up view of the Moravian work as well as an intimate glimpse into their
lives....
Back home again from foreign wanderings, he set about
preaching the gospel with dire earnestness. Wherever an occasion presented
itself Wesley was there with his new doctrine of the full assurance of
salvation....
At once cudgels were taken up by the ministers against
Wesley's doctrine of assurance. Sermons were preached and printed against
"those who of late asserted that they who are not assured of their salvation by
a revelation from the Holy Ghost are in a state of damnation." Such sermons
were certainly heading toward a general refutation of Wesley's work. John,
however, was prepared to pay such a price for his religious freedom.
He
had already made a beginning of a group which should in the end be the
foundation for the Methodist Church. Early in May, 1738, Peter Bohler had
advised him to establish Moravian societies in London...
Wesley was now
in possession of the doctrine of the coming revival. His soul was attuned to
the heavenly chorus. Zeal was bursting within and with the foundational
society, he was ready for all comers.
During the remaining months of
1738 Wesley's work was composed mostly of acting as religious advisor and
confessor. He preached wherever occasion presented, but his doctrines had
become so adverse to the ordinary preaching of the day that most ministers
closed their churches to his ministry. In all of London there were only three
of four churches open to him by the end of that year.
This exclusion is
often spoken of as a sign of the Church's decay, for it could not bear with the
religious enthusiasm of such a stirring man. This but hardened the steel of
John's character, for he knew the doctrine he proclaimed to be declared in the
Bible and rooted in his experience. Firmly he preached on, and, as the days
passed, a growing consciousness possessed him that his message should be heard
more and more by the Fetter Lane Society he had formed at the suggestion of
Bohler. [i.e. He was led by God's Spirit to start nurturing and feeding the
flock the Lord had gathered under his care.]
The group held weekly
meetings for prayer and discussion. On New Year's Eve, 1738-39, seven of the
Oxford Methodists and sixty other people conducted a watch night service and
love feast, the results of which were to usher Wesley into a new field of
service.
"About three in the morning," says Wesley, describing the
service, "as we were continuing instant in prayer, the power of God came
mightily upon us, insomuch that many cried out for exceeding joy, and many fell
to the ground. As soon as we were recovered a little from that awe and
amazement at the presence of His majesty we broke out with one voice, 'We
praise Thee, O God, we acknowledge Thee to be the Lord!'"
Whitefield
pronounced this to be "the happiest New Year's Day he had ever seen." Three
days later the seven ministers, members of the Anglican Church, met again, of
which Whitefield writes, "What we were in doubt about after prayer we
determined by lot and everything was carried on with great love, meekness and
devotion. We continued in fasting and prayer till three o'clock, and then
parted with the conviction that God was to do great things among us."
It
was the prayer of this Fetter Lane Society that inaugurated Wesley's next move,
of which George, and not John, was to be the prime leader. Indeed God was to do
great things with the group.
THE WORLD HIS PARISH
When the churches shut their doors to the Oxford preachers,
God was opening another gate into which they were to step. It was from this new
adventure the revival was to begin. The low state of spiritual life marking
church and ministry was used of the Lord to turn Wesley's attention to other
fields of Christian endeavor to promote kingdom enterprises. The turning came
about on this order.
When Whitefield was twenty-one he was England's
most popular pulpit orator. His soul was aflame with the Holy Club message,
salvation by faith, and the newness of the doctrine along with the speaker's
absolute control over his audiences opened the hearts of the people, as well as
their pulpits, to him. John in Georgia felt the need of his preaching friend,
and so he wrote George asking him to come to the colony with his fiery
messages. Their boats crossed as we have elsewhere indicated.
Whitefield
remained in Georgia six months and then returned to London for the purpose of
collecting money for an orphanage. Leaving as England's most popular preacher,
he expected to be so received again. But he discovered to his amazement that he
as well as John had been excluded from the London pulpits. This was difficult
for him to understand; so he decided to make a preaching tour of Bristol, where
he had previously been very popular.
The Bishop of London told
Whitefield that his preaching was tinctured with enthusiasm, as indeed the
preaching of the new movement was to be, and by the end of January all churches
were closed to him. Arriving at Bristol, the attitude of the London clergy
George found had preceded him. He was informed by the chancellor of the diocese
that he could not preach in Bristol churches without his license.
"Why
did you not require a license from the clergyman that preached last Thursday?"
asked Whitefield, to which the chancellor replied, "That is nothing to
you."
From church to church the evangelist went requesting a preaching
appointment, only in the end to find all Bristol pulpits closed to him. George,
a preaching soul, could not have his message stopped by the mere refusal of a
stated pulpit. He would make his own pulpit he declared. And that declaration
was the beginning of the Wesleyan revival.
Four miles from Bristol was
Kingswood where lived a class of men who had never seen inside a church nor
heard the voice of a preacher. The colliers of Kingswood were England's worst
specimens of humanity. They made up an ecclesiastical no-man's land. On
Saturday, February 17, George spoke to two hundred colliers on the Kingswood
Common. He defied church rules and fashions by preaching in the open
air.
"I thought," he affirms, "it might be doing the service of my
Creator, who had a mountain for his pulpit and the heavens for a sounding
board; and who, when His Gospel was refused by the Jews, sent His servants into
the highways and hedges."
His first audience was small, but the mighty
power of the man stirred those colliers souls and they called for more. When
George lifted his voice the fifth time, on the Common before him was an
audience of ten thousand. He had found a new pulpit from which no churchly
authority could exclude him and an audience which no church could have
assembled.
From victory to victory he went until a bowling green in
Bristol was offered and here he spoke to eight and ten thousand. The near-by
districts called for his open-air preaching, and in some instances he spoke to
twenty thousand people. His heart rolled high with enthusiasm, and he decided
to defy the London bishop with his new method of preaching.
He faced a
dilemma. What could he do with the crowds he had gathered at Bristol and
Kingswood? He could not let them be as shepherdless sheep. He decided to call
for Wesley. But John with his little circle of London friends was hesitant
about taking the step. He did not feel that the outside of a church was so
proper a preaching station as the inside...
Wesley decided to go, even
though from Bible guidance the trip seemed to lead to his grave. Arriving in
Bristol on March 31, it was difficult for him to take the outdoor step, for in
his heart he was still bound by the confines of Anglicanism. Standing by
Whitefield as he preached on Sunday, Wesley looked out at the sea of faces
before the orator. His heart was moved, for he felt here indeed was an audience
to whom God would have him deliver his message.
The next day, April 2,
at four in the afternoon John stood on a little eminence outside the city and
spoke to three thousand listeners from the text, "The Spirit of the Lord is
upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor. He hath
sent me to heal the broken-hearted; to preach deliverance to the captives, and
recovery of sight to the blind; to set at liberty them that are bruised, to
proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord."
That was a memorable text and
a memorable occasion. In reality it formed the beginning of Wesley's new work.
Thinking upon field preaching he brought himself to feel that the Sermon on the
Mount "was one pretty remarkable precedent." John had tasted the joy of "field
preaching," as it was termed, and he wanted to go back for more of its soul
enticement. Here was a crowd of people to whom his message came as a bursting
light from heaven, and he would not deny them this glimpse of
Christ...
When brother Samuel heard about this open-air preaching, he
too was quite shocked, for he never seemed to catch the meaning of his
brother's life or message. John's reply is famous:
"God in Scripture
commands me according to my power to instruct the ignorant, reform the wicked,
confirm the virtuous. Man forbids me to do this in another's parish; that is,
in effect, to do it all, seeing I have now no parish of my own, nor probably
ever shall. Whom then shall I hear: God or man?...
"I took upon the
world as my parish. Thus far, I mean, that in whatever part of it I am, I judge
it meet, right and my bounden duty to declare unto all that are willing to hear
the glad tidings of salvation."
This is Wesley's Magna Charta. From
thenceforth on he was forever done with bishops when their indictments ran
contrary to God's will for his life...
Blasphemers cried for mercy;
sinners were smitten to the earth in deep conviction; even passing travelers
were so affected..."During these weeks small societies were growing up which
were modeled upon the Fetter Lane Society in London. There were two in Bristol,
one on Nicholas and the other on Baldwin Street. Wesley saw the necessity of
having a place for the groups to worship, and so he laid the foundation on
which all of Methodism's churches throughout the world were to
arise.
Taking possession of a piece of ground near St. James' Church in
Horsefair, Bristol, he held it in the name of eleven trustees. At the time he
did not realize the depth of this act's meaning, but as the years went by it
became evident that here was the seed from which the systematization of his
work was to come..,
All the early buildings of Methodism were built by
Wesley personally.,.
Nor was the new building to remain idle long, for
just three weeks after laying the cornerstone, Wesley entered in his Journal,
"Not being permitted to meet in Baldwin Street, we met in the shell of our new
society room. The Scripture which came in course to be explained was, 'Marvel
not if the world hate you.' We sang:
Arm of the Lord, awake!
Thine own immortal strength put
on.
And God, even our own God, gave His blessings"
Thus in Wesley's own building was held the first meeting of
his society. This was a mighty step forward in his final break with the Church
of England. The little building was to have an interesting future. In it during
John's lifetime eighteen conferences were to sit, and from the old pulpit he
expounded the Acts of the Apostles, which he declared to be "the inalienable
charter" of the Church of God...
Wesley returned to London in June,
1739, where he preached indoors and out as opportunity was granted. In the
autumn the weather turned unusually cold for open-air preaching. Two gentlemen
invited him to speak in the city one November Sunday in a building then unused.
Thirty years before, this had been a foundry where an explosion wrecked the
building. The government moved the cannon works elsewhere and since, the
building had been in ruins. Finally it was leased and afterwards restored and
almost rebuilt at a cost of $4,000.
The preaching room would seat
fifteen hundred. There was also a small band room seating three hundred. One
end of the chapel was fitted as a schoolroom and on the opposite end was the
book room. The "Collection of Psalms and Hymns," published in 1741, was
imprinted "Sold at the Foundry, Upper Moorefields." Above the band room were
John's apartments where his mother was to spend her declining years.
"I
preached at eight o'clock to five or six thousand," he says of the first
Foundry service on Sunday, November 11, 1739, 'on the Spirit of Bondage and the
Spirit of Adoption,' and at five in the evening in the place which had been the
king's foundry for cannon. O hasten Thou the time when nation shall not rise up
against nation, neither shall learn war anymore."
John now had the
makings of a new movement which should center around his personality. His break
with the Church of England was as complete as it could be until his death. He
was in possession of his particular doctrine, and with two buildings, one at
Bristol and the other at London, he was ready to launch forth in aggressive
evangelism.
That Foundry was to be the pivot and headquarters around
which John's movement was to revolve for thirty-eight years. It was to be
superseded by City Road Chapel only when it was insufficient to meet the needs
of the organization which John's personality brought into being. Time and again
it was crowded out, until in 1775 Wesley obtained property some two hundred
yards distant from the Foundry, and on a stormy April day, 1777, he laid the
cornerstone of the City Road Chapel...
Wesley viewed his work seriously,
believing that his life had been channelized in the broad current of the divine
will. He took the future in his stride, meeting opposition by evangelism,
overcoming obstacles by organization. When preachers wrote against him he
answered in kind, always keeping his ear attuned to the voice of the people who
came to hear him.
He had undertaken a task as broad as any man's since
Paul lost his head to Nero's axman. If the world was to be his parish it would
demand the blessings of heaven upon his work as well as the proper organization
of his converts into a dynamic force. The expediency which gave birth to the
organization was upon him.
THE MASTER BUILDER
The Fetter Lane Society had already given John the practical
plan by which to centralize his growing work. He had touched thousands with the
Gospel, and to Wesley these people looked for spiritual
guidance...
Problems came up in the Fetter Lane Society which resulted
in a small group of Wesley's followers withdrawing from its fellowship. This
was a nucleus which was to form the center of John's new group.
Near the
close of 1739, eight or ten people came to Wesley, then in London, with the
request that he should meet with them for prayer and counsel. Agreeing to do so
he set aside Thursday evening for this purpose.
"The first evening," he
says, "about twelve persons came; the next week thirty or forty. When they were
increased to about a hundred, I took down their names and places of abode
intending as often as it was convenient to call upon them at their houses.
Thus without any previous plan began the Methodist Society in England--a
company of people associating together to help each other to work out their
salvation." [What did Paul say in Ephesians 4? That the work of the Church
is to what? "And He Himself gave some to be apostles, some prophets, some
evangelists, and some pastors and teachers, FOR THE EDIFYING OF THE BODY
OF CHRIST, till we all come to the unity of the faith and the knowledge of the
Son of God, to a perfect man, to the measure of the stature of the fullness of
Christ..." The number one responsibility of the church is to edify its'
members, the children of God--not to evangelize. Evangelism is a by-product of
spiritually healthy people as pastor Chuck Smith brings out in his book
HARVEST.] Remembering the words of the "serious man" who had long ago during
Oxford days told him, "The Bible knows nothing of solitary religion," it was
easy for John to form his societies for spiritual advancement. Early in April
of that same year he had held meetings with his converts for counsel and
guidance. In Bristol he took the names of three women who "agreed to meet
together weekly," along with the names of four men who planned to do the
same.
"If this be not of God, let it come to naught," he had said at the
time. "If it be, who can hinder it?"
The Bristol group was but the seed
from which the London Society was to spring, of which Wesley says, "This was
the rise of the United Society, first in London, and then in other
places."
This was a most worthy occasion, and John as always was anxious
to found it in Scripture. He felt his work was moving in the general direction
of that of the Apostles.
"In the earliest times," he says, "those whom
God had sent forth preached the Gospel to every creature...As soon as they were
convinced of the truth as to forsake sin and seek Gospel salvation, they
immediately joined them together, took account of their names, advised them to
watch over each other and met those catechumens...apart from the great
congregation that they might instruct, rebuke, exhort and pray with
them..."
Feet solidly resting on Bible grounds, he went forward rapidly.
"Thus arose without any previous design on either side, what was commonly
called a society; a very innocent name, and very common in London for any
number of people associating themselves together."
When the Foundry
Society had begun, the first to be directly controlled by Wesley, the Fetter
Lane group was still in existence; but trouble arose on July 20, 1740, which
caused seventy-two of the members to unite with Wesley's group.
He had
bound them together in a united whole, but he found a further step to be
necessary. The people were widely scattered throughout London, and as such it
was impossible for him to keep an oversight of their personal life. This gave
birth to a new working unit, of which he says, "At length while we were
thinking of quite another thing we struck upon a method for which we have cause
to bless God ever since."
He broke down his parent society into smaller
working units known as "classes." When this plan was outlined it was proposed
for a different end altogether.
There was still a debt on the Bristol
Horsefair meeting house, so John called together the principal men and asked
how it could be met. Said one of the men, "Let every member of the society give
a penny a week." Said another, "But many of them are poor and cannot afford to
do it."
Captain Foy, the first speaker, suggested , "Then put eleven of
the poorest with me and if they can give anything, well; I will call on them
weekly and if they can give nothing, I will give for them as well as for
myself. And each of you call on eleven of your neighborhood weekly, receive
what they give and make up what is wanting."
While the stewards were
visiting their eleven's for money purposes, the caught rumors of how the men
were living. These lax conditions were reported to John, who like a flash saw
the spiritual implications of his group plan. He said, "This is the thing; the
very thing we have wanted so long."
Immediately he called together the
leaders of these financial classes, unfolded his scheme and told them to inform
him as to how the people were living in their groups. In London the same plan
was put into operation April 25, when he called his leaders together and
perfected his mobile working force. "This was the origin of our classes in
London," he states,
"for which I can never sufficiently praise God, the
unspeakable usefulness of the institution having ever since been more
manifest."
It was in this talent for organization that Wesley's
superiority over Whitefield is to be found. Whitefield was the popular pulpit
orator, speaking to as many as sixty to eighty thousand people at a time. But
he knew little or nothing about uniting these forces in workable and
controllable units, while John understood the force of small bodies and knew
how to harness his man power. [This could have been the predecessor of the
modern house fellowship.] Whitefield's work was soon dissipated
while Wesley's remains, for the latter built upon the foundation of linking man
to man for workable schemes.
There would have been little or no
Methodism without such a capacity. It was at this time that John began using
the term "Methodists" in reference to his followers. "I preached at Moorfields
to about ten thousand, and at Kennington Commons to, I believe, near twenty
thousand," he enters in his Journal for Sunday, September 9..."at both places I
described the real difference between what is generally called Christianity and
the true old Christianity, which under the new name of Methodism is now also
everywhere spoken against."
John soon found it impractical for the class
leaders to visit each member at his own home; so it was decided to hold a
weekly meeting at some central place, which caused them "to bear one another's
burdens...And as they had daily a more intimate acquaintance, so they had a
more endeared affection for each other."
The next step was the
institution of weekly meetings for the class leaders, who were untutored men
for the most part, "having neither gifts nor graces for such divine
employment." For this purpose a Tuesday-night meeting was arranged, concerning
which Wesley remarked, "It may be hoped they will all be better than they are,
both by experience and observation and by the advices given them by the
minister every Tuesday night, and the prayers offered up for them."
A
forward step in the societies together was taken on February 23, 1743, when
Wesley issued his General Rules. The society was defined "as a company of men,
having the form and seeking the power of godliness, united in order to pray
together, to receive word of exhortation and watch over one another in love..."
The members were to evidence their desire for salvation "by doing no harm, by
avoiding evil of every kind, especially that which is most generally
practiced." They were also to "avoid such diversions as cannot be used in the
name of the Lord."
John realizing that spirituality is endangered by use
of the means of grace wrote into his rules, and urged his followers to be
faithful in public worship, attend to the ministry of the Word, partake of the
Lord's Supper, fast and pray as well as conduct family and private prayers. In
well-erected segments Wesley hereby laid the broad platform upon which his
followers were to be molded into a church...Shortly a voluntary division of
classes into bands came about. Another revival from ancient time was that of
the love feast or agape, to which service only members holding class
tickets were admitted. A little plain cake and water was used as a token of
spiritual friendship which was followed by a service of Christian
testimony...
Gradually it became necessary for John and Charles to make
provision for their followers to receive the sacrament of the Lord's Supper.
Very shortly Wesley was forced to separate his societies from the Church of
England in that not only the Wesley's themselves were excluded from the
parishes, but their members or followers as well. This is especially true after
1740. It therefore was their ministerial duty to supply the Sacrament to their
converts who were thus denied this sacred privilege...
Performing this
sacred duty without the bishop's authorization brought the anethemas of the
Church upon John's and Charles's heads. They were called before the bishops at
London to answer for their actions. Samuel went so far as to declare that he
would "much rather have them picking straws within the walls than preaching in
the area of the Moorfields--referring to the half-witted actions of those
incarcerated in insane asylums..."
This represents the views of the
clergy of John's day, as well as of his brother. The Church might be lax
morally, but there was still enough life left in her to arouse the bishops when
a schism was impending. Forgetful of the Church's seeming wrath for her wayward
son, John went on with his message of redemption heralded for high and low
alike. The glorious blessings of God walked by his side in this battle against
evil...
Possibly the climax of Wesley's ill treatment at the hands of
established ministers came when he visited Epworth, the scene of his birth.
Going to services in the morning he offered to assist the rector, Mr. Romley,
who had been schoolmaster at Wroote, but his offer had been declined. The house
was packed at the afternoon meeting, for it had been rumored that John would
bring the message. Instead the rector read a florid message against enthusiasm,
directed at the visiting cleric and his followers.
The people would not
be disappointed, for as they came out of the church, John Taylor announced that
Wesley, not being permitted to preach from the pulpit, would speak at six that
evening in the churchyard. When time for the service arrived, John climbed on
his father's tombstone and delivered his message to the largest crowd ever seen
at Epworth.
The scene was unique and inspiring--a living son preaching
on the dead father's grave because the parish priest would not allow him to
officiate in a dead father's church. "I am well assured," says Wesley, "that I
did far more good to my Lincolnshire parishioners by preaching three days on my
father's tomb than I did by preaching three years in his pulpit." The folk
pressed him to remain longer, and for eight evenings he climbed on the tomb and
delivered his messages. During the days he preached in the surrounding villages
as occasion was granted.
Nor were the results of those graveyard
messages lacking. On the final Sunday evening, Wesley's voice was drowned by
the cries of those seeking salvation. The last meeting continued for three
hours, so tender the touch of heaven and the ties of friendship.
"We
scarce knew how to part...Near forty years did my father labor here; but he saw
little fruit of all his labor. I took some pains among his people...but now the
fruit appeared...but the seed sown long since now sprung up bringing forth
repentance and remission of sins."...
John's growing movement faced him
with numerous problems, the most serious, once the Episcopal hands were off
him, that of dealing with his members who felt the urge to ascend the pulpit
and declare the message of God. He had no authority to make ministers of them
by the laying on of hands. Time alone was to solve this problem. At his
Kingswood School, Master John Cennick, son of a Quaker, had spoken several
times without authority in 1739. But John thought little of this, feeling that
his position as teacher gave Cennick unusual rights which did not adhere to
other laymen.
While John excused Cennick, he did not think this had
established a precedent. It was early in 1740, while his mother was still
blessing his life with her presence, word came to Bristol, where John was at
the time, that Thomas Maxwell had presumed to preach before the Foundry
Society. This alarmed John and so he rushed back to London where he sought to
deal with this troublesome fellow.
Susannah met him, saying, "John, take
heed what you do with reference to that young man for he is as surely called to
preach as you are." Heeding his mother's words, Wesley attended a service where
Maxwell was the speaker. He listened quietly to the message and then
said:
"It is the Lord's doing;. Let him do what seemeth good. What am I
that I should withstand God?"
Convinced that Maxwell was God's anointed
minister, Wesley encouraged him by sanctioning his work as a lay preacher. This
was the beginning of a remarkable rise of lay workers in Wesley's societies.
Before the year was out there were twenty such preachers, heralding the
doctrines they had learned from John. Among the outstanding ones was John
Nelson, a stonecutter who had been converted under Wesley's
ministry.
Once converted Nelson said, "If it be my Master's will, I am
ready to go to hell and preach to the devils." It enraged the clergymen of the
Established Churches to see a stonecutter preaching the Gospel, and doing it
far better than they with all their boasted training. During one of Nelson's
sermons he was set upon by bullies and almost beaten to death. Such were the
persecutions which Wesley's lay workers faced to preach the Gospel.
As
time passed John faced another problem, that of women preachers. True he had
the example of Susannah who held forth in the Epworth pulpit--and did it more
successfully than her Samuel. Mary Bosanquet, who married Fletcher of Mandeley,
had opened an orphanage with her own money. She was assisted by Sarah Crosby,
who with Mary began addressing members of the society. She asked Wesley's
judgment on the matter, saying, "If I did not believe I had an extraordinary
call, I would not act in an extraordinary manner."
This was in 1771 and
Wesley replied that since she possessed "an extraordinary call" she should be
free to continue her preaching. It was this divine afflatus which he
recognized as the qualifying attribute for lay preachers." [i.e. John
recognized the anointing of the Holy Spirit on others, anointing them for
special tasks and/or the ministry. This allowed a stable God-ordained Spirit
led may ministry to be established.]
FORWARD INTO A NOBLE FUTURE
It was but natural for the mobs to set upon Wesley and his
workers--frowned upon by the clergy and opposed by the bishops. This was the
price John was to pay for the victory of his success when England and the world
took his movement to her bosom. Crowds came to hear his messages--five, ten and
even twenty thousand--and with the crowds were the mobs. It is almost
unbelievable the number of times John refers to the wrath of his enemies and
the serious attempts even at his own life as well as that of his
co-workers...
A six-day riot broke out in that district, while John was
in London, of which he affirms, "I was not surprised at all; neither should I
have wondered if, after advices they had so often received from the pulpit as
well as from the Episcopal chair, the zealous High Churchmen had risen and cut
all Methodists to pieces."...
Returning they were met by a mob from
Walsall who showed fight, and soon overpowered John's new friends. This left
the preacher in the hands of his enemies once more. A big fellow struck him
several times with a heavy club, but missed. If the blow had taken effect
Wesley says "it would have saved all further trouble. But every time the blow
was turned aside, I know not how, for I could not move to the right hand or the
left."
John was struck on the mouth, across the face, over the head,
until blood gushed from open wounds, but he felt no pain. Dragged through the
town, John made for an open door, which proved to be the mayor's, only to be
denied entrance. This man thought his house would be torn down if Wesley
entered.
When he gained the attention of the crowd, people began
yelling, "Knock his brains out. Down with him. Kill him." Others shouted, "We
will hear him once." When he began to speak he lost his voice suddenly, and the
crowd was on him again. When strength returned John began to pray at the top of
his lungs. A ruffian stepped to the fore and said, "Sir, I will spend my life
for you. Follow me, and not one soul here shall touch a hair of your
head."...
"I never saw such a chain of providences, so many convincing
proofs that the hand of God is on every person and thing, overruling all as it
seemeth Him good." [cf. Daniel 4]...
John learned to eye these mobs. He
had a rule "always to look a mob in the face." When at St. Ives a mob attempted
to break up his meeting, he says, "I went into the midst and brought the head
of the mob to the desk. I received but one blow on the side of the head, after
which we reasoned the case, till he grew milder and milder and at length
undertook to quiet his companions.
At Plymouth-dock when the crowd
became venomous, John "walked down into the thick of them and took the captain
of the mob by the hand. He immediately said, "Sir, I will see you safely home.
Sir, no man shall touch you. Gentlemen, stand off; give back. I will knock down
the first man that touches him."
There seemed to be no limit to which
this violence went. Often they stoned Wesley; gangs set upon him, and dragging
him into alleys, would leave him for dead. Once while preaching at Gwennap two
men rode furiously into the congregation and laid hold of the people. As John
commenced singing, one man cried, "Seize the preacher for His Majesty's
service." When his servants were unwilling to do this, the leader jumped from
his horse, seized John by the cassock and led him away three-quarters of a
mile.
On finding John to be a gentleman, the man offered to take the
preacher home, but Wesley declined this favor; so the man sent for horses and
took John back to his preaching place. Wesley--undaunted by the bravado--arose
to complete the service.
The sermons against John were as violent as the
actions of the mobbers. At Bristol in 1743 a clergyman shuttled terrible
messages at Wesley. Finishing his course the cleric was about to repeat them in
the Church of St. Nicholas, when immediately on announcing his text, he was
seized with a throat rattle, and falling backward in the pulpit, died the
following Sunday. In other cases those who tried to wound or murder the
preachers were themselves wounded or died at the hands of their companions in
arms.
This violence continued until 1757 when peace reigned throughout
the ranks of Methodism. This was brought about by the wise leadership and
perfect command which John had over his forces. Isaac Taylor asserted, "When
encountering the ruffianism of mobs and of magistrates, he showed a firmness as
well as guileless skill, which, if the martyr's praise might be of such an
adjunct, was graced with the dignity and courtesy of a
gentleman."
John's heroism was perfect, and not once was he forsaken by
self-possession. The serenity of his temper, mobs could not ruffle. In the face
of bravery and self-command the threatenings of the rabble could not stand.
John always triumphed in the end. During those turbulent years when mobs
fought him and clergymen condemned his work, Wesley went straight into the
future, his mind racing with plans, his soul aflame with messages, the while
busy binding his societies into a workable unit...
Holding the reins
over a growing group of lay preachers, which in the end numbered seven hundred,
Wesley had to be forceful and dominant. To a flowery preacher who had strayed
far afield from simple oratory, he wrote, "I hope you have now quit your queer,
arch expressions in preaching, and that you speak as plain and dull as one of
us."
His generalship extended even to advice to preachers on the
masterly art of being profound yet simple. "Scream no more, at the peril of
your soul," he advised a lay worker. "God now warns you by me, whom He has set
over you. Speak as earnestly as you can but do not scream. Speak with all your
heart; but with a moderate voice...I often speak loud, often vehemently, but I
never scream. I never strain myself; I dare not; I know it would be a sin
against God and my own soul." ...[Very sound advice to all who would
preach.]
Wesley laid the foundation of his success by absolute authority
in command. Like a general, he asked for advice but always reserved the right
to act upon it.
On the matter of conferences Wesley recognized that his
word must be final. Others might enter into discussions, but when John once
spoke there was no appeal...During his own lifetime John determined to control
the conferences, but after his death he made disposition of rulership by
affirming that Methodism was to be governed by the Annual Conference of
preachers...
Yet with all this dictatorial power Wesley had the
universal esteem of his people. Southey expresses this sentiment in his
biography, "No founder of a monastic order ever more entirely possessed the
respect as well as the love and admiration of his disciples." He drew the
converts to him with personal warmth flaming into affection.
It was one
thing to unite individuals as such to him, but quite another to join the
societies with something besides Whitefield's rope of sand. During the first
five years of his itinerancy--1739-1744--Wesley had drawn forty-five preachers
to himself, who supported themselves by working at their secular tasks in
intervals of their preaching journeys...
That little Foundry conclave
was the initiation of the famous Methodist Conference which have been the
Church's executive backbone for almost two hundred years. There were present
the two Wesley's, four other clergymen and four lay assistants. During this
time they considered things--what to teach, how to teach, and how to regulate
doctrine, discipline and practice.
Doctrinal problems such as the fall,
the work of Christ, justification, regeneration, and sanctification were fully
discussed. Answering the "how to teach" problem, they decided that every sermon
must invite, convince, offer Christ, build up the believer. This indeed was a
large order for a single sermon, especially considering the fact that most
ministers were untrained laymen. [Sermons in the Calvary Chapel revival tend to
fulfill these requirements quite well.]
Twelve rules were laid down for
the guidance of lay assistants:
These rules were lengthy and detailed, but Wesley felt the lay
workers were the heart of the Gospel appeal, and as such needed his guidance.
It is interesting to note that they decided to spread the work by going "a
little and little farther from London, Bristol, St. Ives, Newcastle or any
other society. So a little leaven would spread with more effect...and help
would always be at hand."
It was by this procedure that Wesley in his
lifetime saw his societies cross England, reach into Ireland, Scotland and
Wales and then leap across the ocean to America.
The matter of selecting
proper lay preachers called for a definition as to abilities to be sought. "Q.
How shall we try those who believe they are moved by the Holy Ghost and called
of God to preach?" "A. Inquire: 1. Do they know in whom they have
believed?...Are they holy in all manner of conversation [this middle-English
word means conduct.] 2. Have they the gifts as well as the grace for the
work? Have they in some tolerable degree a clear, sound understanding? Have
they the right judgment in the things of God? Have they a conception of
salvation by faith? And has God given them any degree of utterance? Do they
speak justly, readily, clearly? 3. Have they success? Do they not only speak as
generally either to convince or affect the hearts?
At Leeds in 1766
Wesley was careful to impress upon his preachers the necessity of possessing a
book-shelved mind, and entered in the minutes, "Read the most useful
books...Steadily spend all the morning in this employ, or at least five hours
in twenty-four...'But I have no taste for reading.' Contact a taste for it by
use or return to your trade." John was trying to make certain there were to be
no preachers the feet of whose minds paced across their sermons with a leaden
step...
It is interesting that John was always on the lookout for
little services he could perform for his preachers. This caused him to enforce
a rule in 1774 that "every circuit shall find the preacher's wife a lodging,
coal and candles, or L15 a year" to purchase these necessities, and later
$20-a-year allowance was given for each child.
The education of
preachers' children called for consideration, and as a result of a $4,000 gift
by a lady, the Kingswood school was enlarged with various facilities for the
preachers' children in addition to those furnished the colliers' lads and
lassies. This enlargement came about in 1748, when the most strict rules were
enforced by Wesley for the control of students and teachers...
When
asked what would keep his work alive, John answered, "The Methodists must take
heed of their doctrine, their experience, their practice, and their discipline.
If they attend to their doctrine only, they will make the people Antionomians;
if to the experimental part of religion only, they will make them enthusiasts;
if to the practical part only, they will make them Pharisees; and if they do
not attend to their discipline, they will be like persons who bestow much pains
in cultivating their gardens, and put no fence round it to save it from the
wild boars of the forest."
TRAVELING THE GLORY ROAD
John Wesley was one of that large army of mighty little men.
When seventeen he was spoken of as "a very little fellow," and from then on he
never grew any more. Never in his life did he stand over five-feet-five, nor
weigh much over a hundred and twenty pounds. But into that small stature he
packed the genius of an achieving man.
His was a long and glory-topped
career. During the more than forty years he spent on horseback he traveled a
quarter of a million miles. He preached forty-two thousand sermons and when the
total of his books is summed they come to more than two hundred.
In
John's prime he suffered a severe attack of tuberculosis which cause him to
compose the epitaph he thought would mar (grace) his tomb:
Here Lieth the Body
Of
JOHN WESLEY
A Brand plucked
from the Burning:
Who died of a Consumption in the Fifty-first Year
Of
his Age,
Not leaving, after his Debts are paid,
Ten pounds behind
him:
Praying:
God be merciful to me, an Unprofitable
Servant!
He ordered that is, if any, inscription should be placed on
his tombstone.
Thirty-four years later on his eighty-fifth birthday he thought back on the long trail which wound to the cradle that graced the Epworth rectory, recalling thirty-four years with practically no aches or pains, and he wrote in his Journal the sources to which he imputed his perfect health:
During the forty years of his horseback ministry, John rode on
the average twenty miles a day, and often within the round of twenty-four hours
he horse-backed as much as a hundred miles. He laid the secret of his
tremendous accomplishments to the time-defying schedule with which he charted
the course of his day. From his early injunction never to waste time he could
not release himself. Checking through his Journal for instance on June 23,
1787, in his eighty-fourth year, we find this entry:
"Sat. 4:30, prayed,
sermon. 8 tea, conversed, sermon; 2:30 dinner, conversed, sermon; 4:30 tea,
conversed; 6 Matt. 13:33; 7 at Mr. Smythe's, sermon; 8 supper, conversed,
prayer, on business; 9:45." [six hours of sleep a night. I do this barely, but
six hours of sleep a night is a tough road for most of us.]
That was the
log of a Wesleyan day and little did he deviate from such a schedule except to
change the activities in which he engaged due to the exigencies of
circumstances. To him time was all important, and once when he lost five
minutes it required much water to run under the bridge of his life before he
could forget those "five minutes lost forever."
He tutored himself to
read while on horseback, and often as he jogged along the country roads of
England his pen would be busy writing letters or even composing notes for
sermons or articles that should in time find their way into books.
He
knew England's highways and byways as no man of his generation. His innumerable
hours hummed with the business of executing expeditiously the affairs of the
societies. Thinking back through a hundred thousand miles of good horsemanship
he discovered the secret of success with his mounts--"I rode with a slack
rein." And in all his traveling he affirms that never had a horse stumbled with
him, "except two, that would fall head over heels anyway." He goes on to say,
"A slack rein will prevent stumbling, if anything will. But some horses nothing
can."
His horse sense (ability to read horses) evidently stood on
as high an I.Q. level as his ability to read humans with whom the lot of his
life was cast. A quaint picture indeed of John made when he was an old man he
would jog along at an easy pace on a faithful mount, leaving the road to the
horse's nose, while the rider's was deep in some book such as Priestly's
Treatise on Electricity.
John loved horseflesh, even punctuating
the spiritual admonitions of Conference minutes with practical advice about the
care of animals, admonishing his preachers to save souls but to remember that
every one "shall see with his own eyes his horse rubbed, fed and
bedded."
How the man could find time to turn out of his mind's gristmill
two hundred and thirty-three original works is more than one can understand,
did not his Journal chart John's long career through those many ministerial
years. Besides this the man had the habit of editing paraphrasing, clipping and
altering, and, as one biographer phrases it, "sometimes mutilating" the works
of other men. Among these were 183 volumes which he sent through his thought
machine, often hewing upon the mental output of others.
John's pen
touched all subjects. He wrote many histories, English, Roman, etc., composed a
book on logic, completed a text on primitive physic for the guidance of his
people in matters of health. He wrote grammars of Hebrew, Greek, French and
English along with an excellent English dictionary.
In January, 1778, he
published the first volume of The Arminian Magazine, with the first
editorial reading, "To the Reader. It is usual, I am informed, for the
compilers of magazines, to employ outside covers in acquiring the courteous
reader with the beauties and excellencies of what he will find within. I beg
him to excuse me from this trouble...for writing a pangyric upon myself...I am
content this magazine shall stand or fall by its own intrinsic
value...
"It is usual likewise with magazine writers to speak of
themselves in the plural number...And indeed it is the general custom of great
men so to do. But I am a little one. Let me then be excused in this also and
permitted to speak as I am accustomed to do. John Wesley."
Wherever John
went his saddlebags were stuffed with cheap books which he sold or gave to the
people. "Two and forty years ago," he says later in life, "having a desire to
furnish poor people with cheaper, shorter and plainer books than any I have
seen, I wrote many tracts, generally a penny apiece, and afterward several
larger ones. Some of these have such a sale as I never thought of; and by this
means I became unawares rich," all of which, however, he gave away.
In
1872 he and Coke started the first tract society, which is seventeen years
before the Religious Tract Society of London was formed, and even forty years
earlier, thousands of "Wesley's Word to a Smuggler," "Word to a
Sabbath-breaker," "Word to a Swearer" and similar tracts titles were in
circulation.
During the years 1749-55 he edited a fifty-volume Christian
Library, practically the only venture on which he lost money, the sum being a
thousand dollars. Wesley's Notes on the New Testament is a classic for
brevity and spiritual tone. This, along with his Fifty-three Sermons,
forms of doctrinal standards of early Methodism. John was as much at home
in the Greek Testament as in the English Bible.
For forty years Wesley
conducted a book store, which was first opened at the Book Room in the Foundry.
When the City Road Chapel was erected the business was moved there in 1777. It
was this which gave rise to the several Methodist publishing houses existing in
various sections of the world.
Nor could John be idle in the field of
sacred hymnology. When his own soul had tasted Pentecost in 1738, he and
Charles issued a hymnbook for general use in their societies. This was to be
followed by fifty-three other hymnal publications, which on the average is one
each year until John's death. In 1778 the large hymnbook came out, titled "A
Collection of Hymns for Use of the People called Methodists." In this are 525
hymns selected from twenty-one previous books which he and Charles had written
and edited...
It is but natural that a man who lived so long should at
least have seasons when his heart was warmed in affection toward women. In
John's life there was really but one woman who unlocked the memory-casket of
his heart and she was the memorable Susannah, at whose funeral he spoke.
However, he seemed to be possessed by a weakness for his nurses. There were
three women who greatly moved Wesley's heart, and each of them was a
nurse...
Having at length made up his mind to marry in 1751, he did so
with the utmost dispatch. Again he suffered a sickness which called for the
services of a nurse, said position being filled by Mrs. Vazeelle. At the time
John said, "I was clearly convinced I ought to marry," and four days later he
said to Charles that he "was resolved to marry." And marry he did. At once a
storm arose over this step. John, however, could not be stopped by a mere
tempest of words; so he went straight on in the deed. Married or no he saw no
reason why he should change the course or tenor of his life. He entered in his
Journal, "I cannot understand how a Methodist preacher can answer to it to God,
to preach one sermon or travel one day less in the married than in the single
state."...
This was his policy and to it he remained true. He discovered
things at home were not so much as they might be. The matrimonial boat rocked
back and forth for several years until at length John's wife left him in
1771...[John failed in only one area of his life...on how to make a marriage
work. So I would not recommend the advice he gave to his Methodist's preachers
for your marriage. Instead, I highly recommend pastor David T. Moore's cassette
series "Love For A Lifetime" available online at:
http://www.mooreonlife.com , cost
$38.95 and worth every penny of it. It will help transform your marriage and
rebuild even a bad one. But don't wait if yours is rocky, it won't hold
together forever in that state, even as John Wesley found out. But John's
problem came from having one love which was greater than any matrimonial love
he could ever have. And when we understand that, how can we fault him for this
one failing. I can't.]
Wesley had been wedded in his early life to the
only true love that should ever reign in his heart--the love of winning lost
men to Christ. While others touched the springs of his emotions, the desire to
win souls, to promote God's kingdom, to herald the true Gospel of salvation
from sin, alone held his heart. He was a man who sought to keep the glow of God
in his life shining at such white heat that others should recognize it and be
led to seek the same transforming glory...
It was this being constantly
on tiptoe for the heavenly gleam that dominated Wesley's struggle to form his
world parish. He sums up his doctrinal emphasis thus: "Our main doctrines,
which include all the rest, are repentance, faith, and holiness. The first of
these we account as it were the porch of religion; the next, the door; the
third religion itself...
Wesley's strength was to be found in the
fact that he was homo unius libri --a man of one book, and that Book was
the Bible.
To quote a famous 1960’s tune, “The times, they are a changin”. After September 11, 2001 we have all become aware of the fact that the world has become a more dangerous place to live in, even within the borders of the United States.