In March 1741, George Whitefield returned to England. He found that his enemies there were still committed to damaging his reputation, and to add to his troubles he also found that his orphanage was more than a thousand pounds in debt. Still, he did not for a moment hesitate to do his duty. He determined to do all he could to collect the needed money to free his orphanage from debt.
“Troubles never come alone,” he wrote to his friend Mr. Tennent in America, “but in the middle of all my trials I am able to trust myself completely to the hands of God. My troubles drove me to my knees, and God gave me power to wrestle over the matter with strong crying and tears before and also after I went to bed. Feeling that God would provide for me and my orphans, I soon fell asleep. The next morning I knew I might be arrested because of the debt, but I wasn’t afraid. To my surprise a friend of mine came in to see me, and he asked where he could usefully place several hundred pounds. As soon as he heard of my needs, he willingly lent them to me. Thus, although I’m poor, I have a rich God, and all things are mine in Christ Jesus. To me there is no happiness like lying down as a poor sinner at the feet of the Crucified One. How I delight to depend only on Christ!”
Whitefield’s faith was not disappointed, for the money that he needed was in due time provided for him, and he was able to continue his good work for the orphanage. All the gifts of money shared with him by those who had benefitted from his sermons were freely sent on to the orphans, so that beyond the plainest food and clothing Whitefield had no earthly possessions at all.
In the course of his constant travels, George Whitefield went on to Scotland, and there the Lord greatly used him in awaking the saints to earnestly serve Christ.
“Ah! They are brave people,” he said, “and noble like the Bereans. It’s great to hear the leaves of their Bibles rustling during the service. They won’t blindly accept what anyone says if it doesn’t come backed by clear proof from Scripture.”
“Yes, that’s so,” said a Quaker who was a guest with him. “And, Friend George, though thou art a minister ordained by man, and one that preaches in church buildings with steeples, I am as thou art in the matters of the gospel of Jesus. I don’t love the showiness of the men who stand in thy pulpits, and I prefer drab or gray clothing, but I am for bringing all men to Christ even as thou art. If thou wilt not disagree with my gray suit and hat, I will not disagree with thee about thy gown.”
“That’s the spirit of Christ truly,” said Mr. Whitefield. “Would that all other Christians were like minded with you! Even when one or both of us may need more spiritual light, we ought to love one another when Christ loves us all so graciously. Oh! I would not change my Master nor my employment for ten thousand worlds if they were to be had.”
“Friend George, dost thou know that they plan to give thee a gift of money? I hear that they are organizing in Edinburgh for this purpose.”
“I won’t accept the money then, sir. ‘Poor, yet making many rich’ is my motto. I never make collections for myself as I have no desire to be rich. What extra I have I give away. But if they want to give money towards the support of my orphans they are welcome to do so.”
After a number of years of hard labor in the gospel, which makes one wonder how his health and wellness could continue under such constant stress, in November 1741, George Whitefield visited Wales. He met a lady there whom he would later marry. She was a thirty-six year old widow, Whitefield himself being twenty-nine years old when they finally got married.
“She is neither rich nor beautiful,” he wrote of her to his friend Gilbert Tennent, “but she is a true child of God, which is far more important to me. She has been a housekeeper for many years and used to be tangled up with the world and its pleasures, but for the past three years she has lived as one of the despised people of God. Jesus was invited to, and present at, our marriage. I married in the Lord, so I trust that our marriage won’t hinder our work for the Lord, but rather make our labor for God more effective. Oh, for that blessed time when we’ll neither marry nor be given in marriage, but be as the angels of God! My soul longs for that happy, eternal day. Maybe, sometimes, I am too impatient, but who doesn’t wish to be with Jesus who has tasted of His love?”
In spite of the style of this letter, which might suggest the opposite to anyone who didn’t know Whitefield’s character, his was a happy marriage. It’s true that he was often away from home, but when he wasn’t out preaching, he was very happy, for he was tenderly attached to his wife. His restless personality, however, didn’t allow him to stay at home for long periods of time; he preferred to travel from place to place, preaching the Word of God everywhere he went.
Soon after his marriage he went to London, and there decided to risk preaching in Moorfields during Whitsuntide, “the season,” he said, “of all others, when, if ever, Satan’s children keep their rendezvous.” As you might guess from Whitefield’s description, Whitsuntide was a carnival of sorts that attracted people from the worst parts of society and offered them some of the world’s more evil entertainments. His friends strongly advised him not to take what they thought was the great risk of preaching at Moorfields during that time.
One of his friends tried to persuade him not to go. “George,” he said, “although there are puppet shows and jugglers there, the place is also full of worldly and sinful attractions which are attended by the kinds of people that hate the gospel. If you start preaching there they might even send some of the wild animals after you, and I don’t think that Christ requires you to throw away your life.”
“I want my life to reflect the Redeemer’s fearless steps in the presence of His enemies. Dear friend, help me by praying to the Saviour, that He would make me a little, a very little, child. When I am weak, then Christ will use His power on my behalf.”
“Still, George, don’t you agree that God knows better than we do? If He really wanted to convert these people, wouldn’t He have done so by now? I don’t want to act like I’m wiser than God.”
“Oh, but if they die like they are, they will be lost forever!” replied Whitefield, tears springing to his eyes. “Didn’t Jesus weep over guilty Jerusalem, and do you really think He wants these poor creatures to perish without getting a final warning? If they die having been warned of their danger, their blood will be on their own heads. God helping me, I will not be responsible for their loss. I must go and preach Christ to them.”
“Well, if you must go, you shall not go alone; I will go with you. But it won’t be any use to preach to such a mob as you’ll find at Moorfields.”
“That’s none of my business,” replied Whitefield. “I can’t keep myself from speaking what I believe to be the whole counsel of God.”
On Whitsunday 1742, therefore, Whitefield went down to the fair at Moorfields. Although it was only six o’clock in the morning, there were already nearly ten thousand people gathered in the fields.
They crowded around the pulpit and listened with respectful wonder while Whitefield preached to them from the text found in John 3, verse 14: “As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so must the Son of Man be lifted up.”
But when Whitefield once more tried to preach to an even larger crowd in the evening, the stage-actors did all they could to stop him from succeeding. One man climbed up onto the shoulders of another, and the two made their way up to the pulpit. They tried to hit Mr. Whitefield with a heavy whip, but each time they lost their balance and fell to the ground.
“Just wait, I’m not giving up yet,” one of them yelled and then ran away. In a few minutes he returned with a recruiting sergeant from the army who had a drummer boy at his side.
“Play the drum, Mr. Sergeant,” cried the stage-actor, “and march right through the crowd. They’re all traitors at heart. Scatter the mob.”
But Whitefield was not so easily outdone, so he shouted out to the crowd, “Open, good people, open up a pathway, and make way for the king’s officer. March on, my brave soldier! We here are also enlisted men, but we fight for Christ against evil and sin. God bless you, Sergeant, and make you a true soldier of Jesus Christ.”
“Bless you for acting like a gentleman,” said the sergeant. “I won’t disturb the meeting.” But the stage-actor wasn’t going to give up so easily, and he continued to throw stones and dust at the preacher. Nonetheless, Whitefield continued preaching without paying attention to the rocks that were thrown at him. A group of little children sat on the pulpit steps, and every time a stone hit Mr. Whitefield, they burst out into a flood of tears.
Around 350 people got saved while listening to the sermon that night. One of these was the stage-actor who had been persecuting Whitefield.
“O sir, God has found me out,” he said to Mr. Whitefield after the meeting. “I was a child of Christian parents, who trained me in all the right paths when I was young. But I resisted the Spirit of God, and I quenched His workings with my soul. Does God have any mercy for me? I feel like I’m the worst of all sinners, the dirtiest and the most corrupt of all men. Can I be forgiven?”
“Without a doubt God is able to save unto the uttermost. He has already saved the chief of sinners, and He can save the devil’s castaways.”
“That’s all I am, a devil’s castaway! Oh what do I need to do to be saved? I just wish that I had repented and believed while I was still young.”
“Repent now, my dear friend! Don’t add to the guilt of your past by continuing in unbelief. Now, while I’m pleading with you, repent and cast yourself on the mercy of Christ.”
“God forgive me!” moaned the man. “But can I ever forgive myself? To have sinned against such love and such light! What a sinner I’ve been!”
Thus the love of Christ, when it is accepted, breaks the heart of the recipient. God’s forgiveness and blessings are freely offered to all who repent of their sins and accept the Lord Jesus Christ, including the very worst men and women and boys and girls too. None of us has any right of our own to the salvation that God offers, but if we come to God through His Son, Jesus Christ, we can have full assurance that we will be accepted on His merits. Jesus said, “Him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out” (John 6:3737All that the Father giveth me shall come to me; and him that cometh to me I will in no wise cast out. (John 6:37)). “Wherefore He is able to save them to the uttermost that come unto God by Him [Jesus], seeing He ever liveth to make intercession for them” (Hebrews 7:35).