Last week I read a short biography of George Whitefield, the powerful 18th century English preacher. ‘George Whitefield: Trumpet of the Lord’ by Ruth Gordon Short, is certainly not in the league of Dallimore’s classic biography, published by Banner, but is, nonetheless, a very readable, albeit very selective, account of Whitefield’s life.

After a couple of opening chapters in which the author briefly covers his early years and preparation for ministry, Whitefield is then introduced by means of a series of chapters highlighting various aspects of his life and ministry. There are chapters on his friendship with Benjamin Franklin and Lady Huntingdon, his time in America, his attitude towards money and, intriguingly, one called ‘Cabbages and Cats’ which deals with the opposition he aroused.

The book is very anecdotal in style, largely telling Whitefield’s life through stories and incidents. There is a great emphasis on Whitefield the preacher, stressing his amazing capacity to preach to vast crowds of up to 80,000 and his gifts or oratory, heightened by a spiritual anointing, which moved so many and made his preaching so effectual. Like others of his day, John Wesley for example, Whitefield was a prolific preacher, often preaching several times a day and preferring to do so out of doors, whatever the weather. His preaching was always extempore believing “the ministers’ preaching almost universally by notes is a certain mark they have in great measure lost the old spirit of preaching.”

There is a chapter dealing with and attempting to analyse the ‘amazing manifestations’ that often accompanied Whitefield’s preaching and which were, to a certain extent, characteristic of the 18th century revival in England and the Great Awakening in New England. There is also a chapter on Whitefield’s friendship with the Wesleys despite the differences in their theological positions.

What can preachers learn from Whitefield, since that’s why I am reading these biographies of preachers? Two things in particular struck me.

1 Whitefield was deeply moved by the seriousness of his responsibility and the fate that awaited those who rejected the Gospel message or died in ignorance. Writes the author, “He believed that ’secure sinners must hear the thundering of Mount Sinai, before we bring them to Mount Zion. They who never preach up the law, it is to be feared, are unskillful in delivering the glad tidings of the Gospel. Every minister,’ said he, ’should be a Boanerges, a son of thunder, as well as a Barnabas, a son of consolation.’ The truths he preached exalted the God of heaven and laid the pride of man in the dust.” Whitefield was moved by a passion for souls and his preaching bore that out. His Tottenham Court Road chapel was nicknamed ‘Whitefield’s Soul Trap’ and he asserted “Believe me, I am willing to go to prison or death for you; but I am not willing to go to heaven without you.” How much soul earnestness is their in my preaching? How faithful am I in preaching the terrors of the law as well as the blessings of salvation?

2. Whitefield’s preaching was as far removed as you can imagine from the dry and lecture style of preaching that so many today are exposed to. Undoubtedly he had a natural oratorical gift and this, heightened by unction, had a profound effect on literally thousands of his listeners. One of his listeners wrote, “Under Mr Whitefield’s sermon, many among the immense crowd that filled every part of the burial ground, were overcome with fainting. Some sobbed deeply; others wept silently, and a solemn concern appeared on the countenance of almost the whole assembly. When he came to impress the injunction in the text his words seemed to cut like a sword, and several in the congregation burst into the most piercing bitter cries. Mr Whitefield, at this juncture, made a pause and then burst into a flood of tears…….When the sermon was ended, the people seemed chained to the ground.” God forbid that we should apply emotional manipulation in our preaching, but should we not be looking to the Lord to touch the emotions of our hearers through the preached word more often than appears to be the case?

My verdict: a good read but if you want a thorough account of the man Spurgeon dubbed, ‘The Prince of Preachers’, there’s no substitute for Dallimore.