April, 1809.
Dearest A—,
I have been much interested, and. I trust, profited, of late, by tracing, through the Gospels and the Acts, the various notices of the work of evangelization; and it has occurred to me that it may not be amiss to present to you, as one much occupied in the blessed work, a few of the thoughts that have suggested themselves to my mind. I shall feel myself much more free, in this way, than if I were writing a formal treatise.
And, first of all, I have been greatly struck with the simplicity with which the work of evangelizing was carried on in primitive times; so very unlike a great deal of what obtains amongst us. It seems to me that we moderns are quite too much hampered by conventional rules—too much fettered by the habits of Christendom. We arc sadly deficient in what I may call spiritual elasticity. We are apt to think that in order to evangelize, there must be a special gift; and even where there is this special gift, there must be a great deal of machinery and human arrangement. When we speak of doing the work of an evangelist, we, for the most part, have before our minds great public halls, and crowded audiences, for which there is a demand for considerable gift and power of speaking.
Now you and I thoroughly believe that in order to preach the gospel publicly, there must be a special gift from the Head of the Church; and, moreover, we believe, according to Eph. 4:11, that Christ has given, and does still give, “evangelists.” This is clear, if we are to be guided by scripture. But I find in the Gospels, and in the Acts of the Apostles, that a quantity of most blessed evangelistic work was done by persons who were not specially gifted at all, but who had an earnest love for souls and a deep sense of the preciousness of Christ and His salvation. And what is more, I find in those who were specially gifted, called, and appointed by Christ to preach the gospel, a simplicity, freedom, and naturalness in their mode of working, which I greatly covet for myself and for all my brethren.
Let us look a little into Scripture. Take that lovely scene in John 1:36-45. John pours out his heart in testimony to Jesus, “Behold the Lamb of God!” His soul was absorbed with the glorious object. What was the result? “Two disciples heard him speak, and they followed Jesus.” What then? “One of the two which heard John speak and followed him, was Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother.” And what does he do? “He first findeth his own brother Simon, and saith unto him, We have found the Messias, which is, being interpreted, the Christ. And he brought him to Jesus.” Again, “The day following, Jesus would go forth into Galilee, and findeth Philip, and saith unto him, Follow me.....Philip findeth Nathanael, and saith unto him, We have found him, of whom Moses in the law and the prophets did write, Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph.....come and see.”
Here, then, dearest A—, is the style of thing for which I earnestly long; tins individual work, this laying hold of the first man that comes hi our way, this finding one’s own brother, and bringing him to Jesus. I do feel we are deficient in this. It is all right enough to gather congregations, and address them, as God gives ability and opportunity. Neither you nor I would pen a single line to detract from the value of such a line of work. By all means, hire rooms, halls, and theaters; put out bills inviting people to come; leave no lawful means untried to spread the gospel. Seek to get at souls as best you can. Far be it from me to cast a damp upon any who are seeking to carry on the work in this public way.
But docs it not strike you that we want more of the individual work? more of the private, earnest, personal dealing with souls? Do you not think that if we had more “ Philips,” we should have more “Nathanaels?” If we had more “Andrews,” we should have more “Simons?” I cannot but believe it. There is amazing power hi an earnest personal appeal. Do you not often find that it is after the more formal public preaching is finished, and the close personal work begins, that souls are reached? How is it, then, that there is so little of this latter? Does it not often happen, at our public preachings, that when the formal address is delivered, a hymn sung, and a word of prayer offered, all disperse without any attempt at individual work? I speak not, now, mark you, of the preacher—who cannot possibly reach every case—but of the scores of Christians who have been listening to him. They have seen strangers enter the room, they have sat beside them, they have, it may be, noticed their interest, seen the tear stealing down the cheek; and yet they have let them pass away without a single loving effort to reach them or to follow up the good work.
No doubt it may be said, “It is much better to allow the Spirit of God to follow up His own work. We may do more harm than good. And, besides, people do not like to be spoken to; they will look upon it as an impertinent intrusion, and they will be driven away from the place altogether.” There is considerable weight in all this. I fully appreciate it; and I am sure you do likewise, dearest A—. I fear great blunders are committed by injudicious persons intruding upon the sacred privacy of the soul’s deep and holy exercises. It needs tact and judgment; in short, it needs direct spiritual guidance to be able to deal with souls; to know whom to speak to, and what to say.
But, allowing all this, as we do, in the fullest possible manner, I think you will agree with me that there is, as a rule, something lacking in connection with our public preachings. Is there not a want of that deep, personal, loving interest in souls which will express itself in a thousand ways that act powerfully on the heart? I confess I have often been pained by what has come under my own notice in our preaching-rooms. Strangers come in, and are left to find a seat wherever they can. No one seems to think of them. Christians are there, and they will hardly move to make room for them. No one offers them a Bible or hymn book. And when the preaching is over, they are allowed to go as they came; not a loving word of inquiry as to whether they enjoyed the truth preached; not even a kindly look which might win confidence and invite conversation. On the contrary, there is a chilling reserve amounting almost to repulsiveness.
All this is very sorrowful; and perhaps my dear A—will tell me I am drawing too highly colored a picture. Alas! the picture is only too true. And what makes it all the more deplorable is, that one knows as a fact that many persons frequent our preaching-rooms, and lecture halls, in the deepest exercise, and they are only longing to open their hearts to someone who could offer them a little spiritual counsel; but through timidity, reserve, or nervousness, they shrink from making any advance, and have but to retire to their homes and to their bedchambers, lonely and sad, there to weep in solitude, because no man cares for their precious souls. Now I feel persuaded that much of this might be remedied if those Christians who attend the gospel preachings were more on the look out for souls: if they would attend, not so much for their own profit, as in order to be co-workers with God, in seeking to bring souls to Jesus. No doubt, it is very refreshing to Christians to hear the gospel fully and faithfully preached. But it would not be the less refreshing because they were intensely interested in the conversion of souls, and in earnest prayer to God in the matter. And besides, it could, in no wise, interfere with their personal enjoyment and profit to cultivate and manifest a lively and loving interest in those who surround thorn, and to seek, at the close of the meeting, to help any who may need and desire to be helped. It has a surprising effect upon the preacher, upon the preaching, upon the whole meeting, when the Christians who attend are really entering into, and discharging, their high and holy responsibilities to Christ and to souls. It imparts a certain tone and creates a certain atmosphere which must be felt in order to be understood; but, when once felt, it cannot easily be dispensed with.
But, alas! how often is it otherwise! How cold, how dull, how dispiriting is it at times to see the whole congregation clear out the moment the preaching is over! No loving, lingering groups, gathering round young converts or anxious enquirers. Old experienced Christians have been present, but, instead of pausing with the fond hope that God would graciously use them to speak a word in season to him that is weary, they hasten away as though it were a matter of life and death that they should be homo at a certain hour.
Do not suppose, dearest A—, that I wish to lay down rules for my brethren. Far be the thought. I am merely, in the freest possible manner, pouring out the thoughts of my heart to one with whom I have been linked in the work of the gospel for many years. I feel convinced there is a something lacking. It is my firm persuasion that no Christian is in a right condition if he is not seeking, in some way, to bring souls to Christ. And, on the same principle, no assembly of Christians is in a right condition if it be not a thoroughly evangelistic assembly. We should all be on the look out for souls; and then, we may rest assured, we should see soul-stirring results. But if we are satisfied to go on from week to week, month to month, and year to year, without a single leaf stirring, without a single conversion, our state must be truly lamentable.
But I think I hear you saying, “Where is all the scripture we were to have had? where the many quotations from the Gospels and the Acts?” Well, I have gone on jotting down the thoughts, which have, for some considerable time, occupied my mind; and now, space forbids my going further at present. But if you so desire, I shall write you a second letter on the subject. Meanwhile, may the Lord, by His Spirit, make us more earnest in seeking the salvation of immortal souls, by every legitimate agency. May our hearts be filled with genuine love for precious souls, and then we shall be sure to find ways and means of getting at them!
Ever, believe me, dearest A—-,
Your deeply affectionate yokefellow,