June, 1869.
Dearest A—,
There is another point which stands intimately connected with the subject of my last letter, and that is the place the word of God occupies in the work of evangelization. In my letter of last month, as you will remember, I referred to the work of the Holy Ghost, and the immense importance of giving Him His proper place. How clearly the precious word of God as connected with the action of the Holy Spirit, I need not say. Both are inseparably linked in those memorable words of our Lord to Nicodemus—words so little understood—so sadly misapplied: “Except a man be born of water and of the Spirit, he cannot enter into the kingdom of God.” John 3
Now you and I, dearest Α., fully believe that, in the above passage, the word is presented under the figure of “ water.” Thank God, we are not disposed to give any credit to the ritualistic absurdity of baptismal regeneration. We are, I believe, most thoroughly convinced that no one ever did, ever will, or ever could, get life by water baptism. That all who believe in Christ ought to be baptized, we fully admit; but this is a totally different thing from the fatal error that substitutes an ordinance for the atoning death of Christ, the regenerating power of the Holy Ghost, and the life-giving virtues of the word of God. I shall not waste your time or my own in combating this error; but at once assume that you agree with me in thinking that when our Lord speaks of being “born of water and of the Spirit,” He refers to the word and the Holy Ghost.
Thus, then, the word is the grand instrument to be used in the work of evangelization. Many passages of holy scripture establish this point with such clearness and decision, as to leave no room whatever for dispute. In the first chapter of James, verse 18, we read, “Of his own will begat he us with the word of truth.” Again, in 1 Pet. 1:2323Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth for ever. (1 Peter 1:23), we read, “Being born again, not of corruptible seed, but of incorruptible, by the word of God, which liveth and abideth forever”—I must quote the whole passage because of its immense importance in connection with our subject—“For all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of grass. The grass withereth, and the flower thereof falleth away: but the word of the Lord endureth forever. And this is the word which by the gospel is preached unto you.”
This last clause is of unspeakable value to the evangelist. It binds him, in the most distinct manner, to the word of God, as the instrument—the only instrument—the all-sufficient instrument, to be used in his glorious work. He is to give the word to the people; and the more simply he gives it the better. The pure water should be allowed to flow from the heart of God to the heart of the sinner, without receiving a tinge from the channel through which it flows. The evangelist is to preach the word; and he is to preach it in simple dependence upon the power of the Holy Ghost. This is the true secret of success in preaching.
But, dearest Α., while I urge this great cardinal point in the work of preaching—and I believe it cannot be too strongly urged—I am very far indeed from thinking that the evangelist should give his hearers a quantity of truth. So far from this, I consider it a very great mistake. He ought to leave this to the teacher, lecturer, or pastor. I often fear that very much of our preaching shoots over the heads of the people, owing to the fact of our seeking rather to unfold truth than to reach souls. We rest satisfied, it may be, with having delivered a very clear and forcible lecture, a very interesting and instructive exposition of scripture, something very valuable for the people of God; but the unconverted hearer has sat unmoved, unreached, unimpressed. There has been nothing for him. The lecturer has been more occupied with his lecture than with the sinner—more taken up with his subject than with the soul.
Now I am thoroughly convinced that this is a serious mistake, and one into which we are all—at least I am—very apt to fall. I deplore it deeply, and I earnestly desire to correct it. I question if this very mistake may not be viewed as the true secret of our lack of success. But, dearest Α., I should not, perhaps, say “our lack” but my lack. I do not think—so far as I know aught of your ministry, that you are exactly chargeable with the defect to which I am, just now, referring. Of this, however, you will be the best judge yourself; but of one thing I am certain, namely, that the most successful evangelist is the one who keeps his eye fixed on the sinner, who has his heart bent on the salvation of souls, yea, the one with whom the love for precious souls amounts almost to a passion. It is not the man who unfolds the most truth, but the man who longs most after souls, that will have the most seals to his ministry.
I assert all this, mark you, in the full and clear recognition of the fact with which I commenced this letter, namely, that the word is the grand instrument in the work of conversion. This fact must never be lost sight of, never weakened. It matters not what agency may be used to make the furrow, or in what form the word may clothe itself, or by what vehicle it may be conveyed; it is only by “the word of truth” that souls are begotten.
All this is divinely true, and we would ever bear it in mind. But do we not often find that persons who undertake to preach the gospel—particularly if they continue long in one place—are very apt to leave the domain of the evangelist—most blessed domain!—and travel into that of the teacher and lecturer? This is what I deprecate and deeply deplore. I know I have erred in this way myself, and I mourn over the error. I do believe, dearest A.—I write in all loving freedom to you—the Lord has, of late, deepened immensely in my soul the sense of the vast importance of earnest gospel preaching. I do not—God forbid I should—think the less of the work of the teacher or pastor. I believe that wherever there is a heart that loves Christ, it will delight to feed—tend the precious lambs and sheep of the flock of Christ, that flock which he purchased with His own blood.
But the sheep must be gathered before they can be fed; and how are they to be gathered but by the earnest preaching of the gospel? It is the grand business of the evangelist to go forth upon the dark mountains of sins and error, to sound the gospel trumpet and gather the sheep; and I feel convinced that he will best accomplish this work! not by elaborate exposition of truth—not by lectures however clear, valuable, and instructive—not by lovely unfoldings of prophetic, dispensational, or doctrinal truth—most precious and important in the right place; but by fervid, pointed, earnest dealing with immortal souls—the warning voice—the solemn appeal—the faithful reasoning of righteousness, temperance, and judgment to come—the awakening presentation of death and judgment—the dread realities of eternity, the lake of fire, and the worm that never dies.
In short, beloved, it strikes me we want awakening preachers. I fully admit that there is such a thing as teaching the gospel, as well as preaching it. For example, I find Paul teaching the gospel in Rom. 1-8; just as I find him preaching the gospel in Acts 13 or 17. This is of the very last importance, at all times, inasmuch as there are almost sure to be a number of what we call “exercised souls” at our public preachings, and these need an emancipating gospel—the full, clear, elevated, resurrection gospel.
But admitting all this, I still believe that what is needed for successful evangelization is, not so much a great quantity of truth, as an intense love for souls. Look at that eminent evangelist George Whitfield. What think you was the secret of his success? No doubt, you have looked into his printed sermons. Have you found any great breadth of truth in them? I question it. Indeed I must say I have been struck with the contrary. But oh! dearest Α., there was that hi Whitfield which you and I may well covet and long to cultivate. There was a burning love for souls—a thirst for their salvation—a mighty grappling with the conscience—a bold, earnest, face-to-face dealing with men about their past ways, their present state, their future destiny. These were the things that God owned and blessed; and He will own and bless them still. I am persuaded—I write as under the very eye of God—that if our hearts are bent upon the salvation of souls, God will use us in that divine and glorious work. But, on the other hand, if we abandon ourselves to the withering influences of a cold, heartless, godless fatalism—if we content ourselves with a formal and official statement of the gospel—a very cheerless sort of thing—if, to use a vulgar phrase, our preaching is on the principle of “take it or leave it,” need we wonder if we do not see conversions? The wonder would be if there were any to see.
No, no; I believe we want to look seriously into this great practical subject. It demands the solemn and dispassionate consideration of all who are engaged in the work. There are dangers on all sides. There are conflicting opinions on all sides. But I cannot conceive how any christian man can be satisfied to shirk the responsibility of looking after souls. A man may say, “ I am not an evangelist; that is not my line; I am more of a teacher, or a pastor.” Well, I understand this; but will anyone tell me that a teacher or pastor may not go forth, in earnest longing, after souls? I cannot admit it for a moment. Nay more; it does not matter, in the least, what a man’s gift is, or even though he should not possess any prominent gift at all, he can and ought, nevertheless, to cultivate a longing desire for the salvation of souls. Would it be right to pass a house on fire, without giving warning, even though one were not a member of the Fire Brigade? Should we not seek to save a drowning man, even though we could not command the use of a patent lifeboat? Who in his senses would maintain aught so monstrous? So, in reference to souls, it is not so much gift or knowledge of truth that is needed, as a deep and earnest longing for souls—a keen sense of their danger, and a desire for their rescue.
Ever, dearest Α.,
Your deeply affectionate yoke-fellow,