Whitefield Preaching Open Air

Before we go, friends, to our time of praying for revival, I think it's important to study men of revival whom God has used in former times, and our subject today is the great British evangelist George Whitefield. There have been few preachers in the history of the church who've possessed such holy fire. His apostolic preaching startled those who heard him.

When George Whitefield preached, he was like Mount Sinai. He was all together on a smoke. Other than Pope or King, a few men were as famous as George Whitefield in his day.

He was more well-known than his good friend Ben Franklin. It's hard to imagine the popularity of Whitefield friends as he burst on the scene in London. I want to give you some extracts from his diary as taken from my two-volume biography on Whitefield.

These two extracts will give us an idea of how mightily used he was, how mightily persecuted he was. I've got a chapter in my book entitled The Scarred Lion where I talk about how Whitefield received many scars out on the battlefield as a preacher of the gospel. It reminds me of Leonard Ravenhill saying that when we get to heaven and when we stand before Jesus Christ, he's not going to be looking for medals on us so much as he's going to be looking for scars.

And I believe that's true, friends. Well, I want to read us a section from a chapter on Whitefield entitled The Lionhearted Evangelist. And here are these extracts from his diary.

This one's taken from London, May 11, 1742. He's talking about preaching in Moorfields outside of London. I've been there and I've looked around where Whitefield preached.

It was hard to imagine that at five o'clock in the morning 10,000 people be standing there with torches in their hands to hear him preach for the break of the day. It's an amazing account and listen to this from his own pen. With this I send you a few out of the many notes I have received from persons who were convicted, converted, or comforted in Moorfields during the late holidays.

For many weeks I found my heart much pressed to determine to venture to preach there at the season when, if ever, Satan's children keep up their annual rendezvous. I must inform you that Moorfields is a large, spacious place given, as I've been told by one Madam Moore, on purpose for all sorts of people to divert themselves in. For many years past, from one end to the other, booths of all kinds have been erected for mountebanks, players, puppet shows, and such like.

With a heart bleeding with compassion for so many thousands, led captive by the devil at his will. On Whit Monday at six o'clock in the morning, attended by a large congregation of praying people, I ventured to lift up a standard amongst them in the name of Jesus of Nazareth. Perhaps there were about 10,000 and waiting, not for me, but for Satan's instruments to amuse them.

Glad was I to find that I had for once, as it were, got the start of the devil. I mounted my field pulpit, almost flocked immediately around it. I preached on these words, as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so shall the Son of Man be lifted up.

They gazed, they listened, they wept, and I believe that many felt themselves stung with deep conviction for their past sins. All was hushed and solemn. Being thus encouraged, I ventured out again at noon, but what a scene! The fields, the whole field seemed, in a bad sense of the word, all white, ready not for the Redeemer's but Beelzebub's harvest.

All his agents were in full motion, drummers, trumpeters, Mary Andrews, masters of puppet shows, exhibitors of wild beasts, players, and so forth, all busy and entertaining their respective auditories. I suppose there could not be less than 20 or 30,000 people. My pulpit was fixed on the opposite side, and immediately to their great mortification, they found the number of their attendants sadly lessened.

Judging that like St. Paul, I should now be called, as it were, to fight with beasts at Ephesus, I preached from these words, a great as Diana of the Ephesians. Well, you may easily guess that there was some noise among the craftsmen and that I was honored with having a few stones, dirt, rotten eggs, and pieces of dead cats thrown at me whilst engaged in calling them from their favorite but lying vanities. My soul was indeed among lions, but for the greatest part of my congregation, which was very large, seemed for a while to be turned into lambs.

This encouraged me to give notice that I would preach again at six o'clock in the evening. I came, I saw, but what? Thousands and thousands more than before, if possible, still more deeply engaged in their unhappy diversions. But some thousands amongst them, waiting as earnestly to hear the gospel.

This Satan could not brook. One of his choice of servants was exhibiting, trumpeting on a Lord's stage. But as soon as the people saw me in my black robes and my pulpit, I think all to a man left him and ran to me.

For a while I wasn't able to lift up my voice like a trumpet, and many heard the joyful sound. God's people kept praying, and the enemy's agents made a kind of a roaring at some distance from our camp. At length they approached nearer, and the Mary Andrews, attended by others who complained that they had taken many pounds less that day on account of my preaching, got up upon a man's shoulders and advancing near the pulpit, attempted to slash me with a long heavy whip several times, but always with the violence of his motion, tumbled down.

Soon afterwards they got a recruiting sergeant with his drum to pass through the congregation. I gave the word of command and ordered that way might be made for the king's officer. The ranks opened while all marched quietly through and then closed again.

Finding those efforts to fail, a large body quite on the opposite side assembled together, and having got a large pole for their standard, advanced towards us with steady and formidable steps till they came very near the skirts of our hearing, praying an almost undaunted congregation. I saw, gave warning, and prayed to the captain of our salvation for present support and deliverance. He heard and answered for just as they approached us with looks full of resentment, I know not by what accident they quarreled among themselves, threw down their staff, and went their way, leaving, however, many of their company behind, who before we had done, I trust, were brought over to join the besieged party.

I think I continued in praying and preaching and singing, for most the noise was too great at times to preach, about three hours. We then retired to the tabernacle with my pockets full of notes from persons brought under concern and read them amidst the praises and spiritual acclamation of thousands who joined with the holy angels in rejoicing that so many sinners were snatched in such an unexpected, unlikely place and manner out of the very jaws of the devil. This was the beginning of the tabernacle society.

Three hundred and fifty awakened souls were received in one day, but I must have done believing you want to retire to join in mutual praise and thanksgiving to God and the Lamb. Well, I want to read us this other extract from Whitfield's journal, Fran. This is dated London, May 15, 1742, and take note of not only the great smile God had on his ministry, take notice of the great persecution that comes against him as he's preaching.

Fresh matter of praise, bless ye the Lord, for he hath triumphed gloriously. The battle that was begun on Monday was not quite over till Wednesday evening, though the scene of action was a little shifted, being strongly invited and a pulpit being prepared for me by an honest Quaker, a coal merchant. I ventured on Tuesday evening to preach at Mary Lebon Fields, a place almost as much frequented by boxers, gamesters and such like as Moorfields.

A vast concourse was assembled together, and as soon as I got to the field pulpit, their countenance bespoke the enmity of their hearts against the preacher. I opened with these words, I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation to everyone that believeth. I preached in great jeopardy, for the pulpit being high and the supports not well fixed in the ground, it tottered every time I moved, and numbers of enemies strove to push my friends against the supporters in order to throw me down.

But the Redeemer stayed my soul on himself, therefore I was not much moved, unless with compassion for those to whom I was delivering my master's message, which I had reason to think, by the strong impressions that were made, was welcome to many. But Satan did not like thus to be attacked in his strongholds, and I nearly escaped with my life, for as I was passing from the pulpit to the coach, I felt my wig and hat to be almost off. I turned about and observed a sword just touching my temples.

A young rake, as I afterwards found, was determined to stab me, but a gentleman, seeing the sword thrusting near me, struck it up with his cane, and so the destined victim providentially escaped. Such an attempt excited abhorrence, the enraged multitude soon seized him, and had it not been for one of my friends who received him into his house, he must have undergone a severe discipline. The next day I renewed my attack in Moorfields, but would you think it, after they found that pelting, noise, and threatenings would not do, one of the Mary Andrews got up into a tree near the pulpit and shamefully exposed his nakedness before all the people.

Such a beastly action quite abashed the serious part of my auditory, whilst hundreds of another stamp, instead of rising up to pull down the unhappy wretch, expressed their approbation by repeated laughs. I must own at first it gave me a shock. I thought Satan had now almost outdone himself, but recovering my spirits, I appealed to all, since now they had such a spectacle before them, whether I had wronged human nature in saying that man, when left himself, is half a devil and half a beast, or as the great Mr. Law expressed himself, a motley mixture of the beast and devil.

Silence and attention being thus gained, I concluded with a warm exhortation and closed our festival enterprises in reading fresh notes that were put up, praising and blessing God amidst thousands at the tabernacle for what he had done for precious souls, and on account of the deliverances he had brought out for me and his people. I cannot help adding that several little boys and girls who were fond of sitting round me on the pulpit while I preached and handed me people's notes, though they were often pelted with eggs, dirt, and etc. thrown at me, never once gave way, but on the contrary, every time I was struck, turned up their little weeping eyes and seemed to wish that they could receive the blows from me.

God makes them in their growing years great and living martyrs for him who out of the mouth of babes and sucklings perfects praise. Well, those incidents in the life of Whitefield outside of London as he was actually storming the metropolis for Christ and his glory and his day friends should show us that God is still the God of revival. God implores us to go out to the hedges and to the highways and to compel them to come in.

We should be like Whitefield and do likewise, do more reaching the lost by going out after them instead of hoping they wander into our church sanctuary on Sunday morning. Well, let us to go now to our time of prayer for revival as this nation needs a fresh move of grace in our day to turn it from its course of destruction and judgment and we pray right now that the God of Whitefield will come and move our own hearts, give us the grace to pray with fervency and a passion in a way that we too may lay hold of Whitefield's God and ask for the God of revival to bring a fresh move of revival in our day. Let us go now to a time of prayer.