Review of Geordan Hammond and David Ceri Jones, George Whitefield: Life, Context, and Legacy (OUP, 2016)
This study brings together a team of professional historians working at universities across the globe to present new and creative research regarding the life, ministry, and impact of George Whitefield. The editors open with a consideration of Whitefield’s biographers – giving particular attention to Gilles, Tyerman, Dallimore, Stout, Lambert, and Mahaffey. For Hammond and Jones, there is a general transition in the historiography on Whitefield from hagiography to scholarly criticism.
Boyd Stanley Schlenther opens with a consideration of Whitefield’s personal life and character.[1] He narrates aspects of Whitefield’s biography – his involvement in the Holy Club at Oxford, his difficulties in forming personal relationships, his appalling treatment of women (particularly his own wife), as well as his tendency towards boastfulness, judgementalism, and pride. Schlenther also considers the financial clouds that haunted his life and ministry, particularly with respect to his oversight of the Bethesda Orphanage. Schlenther closes with an account of Whitefield’s physical decline and final years – noting his corpulent appearance and his irascibility in the final years.
Mark K. Olson explores Whitefield’s conversion and early theological formation – considering his progression from Oxford Methodism, to evangelical Methodism, and eventually Calvinistic Methodism. Whitefield’s early association with High Church sacramentalism and holy living theology was gradually replaced with evangelical convictions regarding justification by faith and the new birth. Eventually developing into a moderate Calvinism emphasising the electing love of God and the final perseverance of the saints.[2] In chapter three, William Gibson considers Whitefield’s difficult relationship to the Church of England – examining the attitudes of the clergy and Anglican bishops towards Whitefield and their specific concerns regarding ecclesiastical authority, popery, Jacobitism, and antinomianism.[3]
Frank Lambert explores Whitefield’s complex interaction with the Enlightenment.[4] Lambert assumes there were ‘many competing Enlightenments’ throughout the Atlantic world during the eighteenth century and that Whitefield spiritual enlightenment may be considered a part of them.[5] Whitefield formulated his own distinctively religious response to the Enlightenment in which human reason must first be ‘illuminated by God’s grace’.[6] Whitefield’s opposition to John Tillotson’s theology is explored in considerable depth as well as his more promising relationship to Benjamin Franklin. ‘For Whitefield, there could be no true enlightenment without the transforming grace of God that wrought a new nature in the minds, hearts, and wills of men and women’.[7] In chapter five, Carla Gardina Pestana explores Whitefield’s engagement in the culture of empire – noting how he travelled extensively through the British empire and represented it to his readers in his published journals and letters.[8] He also ‘embraced its characteristic institutions of religious diversity and slavery’, and was instrumental in reshaping its religious culture.[9]
Geordan Hammond focuses on the early relationship between Whitefield and John Wesley.[10] He gives particular consideration to the tensions that characterised the ‘chaotic beginnings’ of the revival and Wesley’s use of the lot in making decisions.[11] Hammond explores the fascinating correspondence between Wesley and Whitefield from their early friendship and deferential relationship to the emerging Calvinist-Arminian conflicts between them. In chapter seven, Kenneth P. Minkema explores the relationship between Whitefield and the philosopher-theologian Jonathan Edwards.[12] He focuses on their interactions in 1740 and the ‘virtually ignored visit’ of 1745, noting especially the frictions between them as well as their shared interests in revival and religious experience. Minkema particularly considers Edwards’ criticisms of impulses, impressions and dreams, of which Whitefield had made much in the early editions of his published journals.
Keith Edward Beebe and David Ceri Jones (co-authors) consider Whitefield’s engagement with the revivals in the ‘Celtic’ nations of the British Isles – Wales, Scotland, and Ireland.[13] Beebe and Jones explore Whitefield’s involvement in creating a British-wide evangelical Calvinist network. The chapter does much to address Whitefield’s role as a ‘unifier of evangelicals in each of the four constituent nations of the British Isles’.[14] In chapter nine, Brett C. McInelly explores the criticism and controversy surrounding Whitefield’s life and ministry.[15] McInelly argues that Whitefield’s ‘public clashes’ reveal much about his ‘character and conviction’, while his apologetic for the evangelical awakening became part of the ‘media machine by which … [he] advanced the Methodist cause’.[16] Whitefield revelled in criticism – taking persecution as a mark of assurance for his ministry and labours, recognising that even ‘bad publicity is good publicity’.[17]
Braxton Boren explores whether it would have been physically possible for Whitefield to preach to the vast crowds supposedly attending his public sermons.[18] The chapter draws upon Benjamin Franklin’s account of Whitefield’s incredible voice and the estimated crowd that could have reasonably heard him – amounting to some 30,000 listeners – similar to the vast crowds that would gather before army generals in ancient history. Using modern simulation techniques and Franklin’s data, as well as the largest crowd estimates for Whitefield’s preaching services, Boren suggests that Whitefield ‘could perhaps have been heard intelligibly by a crowd of 50,000 people’ under ideal acoustic conditions’.[19] In chapter eleven, Emma Salgard Cunha offers a close reading of Whitefield’s sermon ‘Abraham’s Offering up his Son Isaac’, highlighting the similarities between the use of affective language in contemporary poetry and the affective rhetoric of George Whitefield’s preaching.[20] Cunha compares the British dramatist and critic John Dennis (1658–1734) to Whitefield, highlighting the poetics of eighteenth-century evangelicalism with its peculiar concentration on heart religion and the religious affections.
Stephen R. Berry considers the time Whitefield spent on the Atlantic and how he occupied himself on board ship.[21] Remarkably, Whitefield spent approximately three years of his life on the water. In Berry’s words, ‘The Atlantic Ocean defined Whitefield’s identity’.[22] Berry distinguishes four aspects to Whitefield’s life aboard – ‘the ship as parish, the ship as wilderness, the ship as cloister, and the ship as haven’.[23] These headings capture Whitefield’s relationship to the ocean and the way he utilized the journey for spiritual ends. Peter Choi’s chapter considers Whitefield’s relationship to the colony of Georgia, particularly his quest to establish a college on the site of the Bethesda orphanage.[24] According to Choi, Whitefield’s ‘concerns [for Bethesda] developed beyond religious interests to include cultural and imperial aspirations … the Bethesda project was one attempt by Whitefield to sketch his vision of an ascendant Protestant empire on the fluid canvas of colonial life’.[25]
Mark A. Noll considers the importance of A Collection of Hymns for Social Worship published by Whitefield in 1753.[26] The collection was published to coincide with the opening of the Tabernacle in London and represented a pivotal time in Whitefield career. Noll assesses the sensibility and the theology of Whitefield’s Collection ‘which appeared at a transitional moment in the early history of modern evangelical Christianity’.[27] Noll considers the medium in which the hymns were written, the central message of the hymns (namely, the saving work of Christ), and the spirituality they convey. In chapter fifteen, Isabel Rivers’ assesses the various responses to Whitefield’s life and ministry from his death in 1770 to the centenary celebrations in 1839.[28] Whitefield’s irenic interdenominationalism earned both supporters and opponents within Dissent and the Established Church. Many of Whitefield’s supporters were dissenters who struggled with Whitefield’s evangelical catholicism; while many of his opponents were Anglican evangelicals who ‘regarded his influence as extremely damaging to the Church’.[29]
Andrew Atherstone closes the volume with a chapter on the commemoration of Whitefield in popular culture during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.[30] Whitefield was remembered with ‘memorial sermons, monuments, statues, churches, colleges, institutes, re-enactments, and evangelistic campaigns’.[31] Atherstone zooms in on four locations – Newburyport, Victorian England, Savannah and Philadelphia, and post-1950s England – to consider the ways in which Whitefield was understood by successive generations.
This study will be valued by scholars and student of George Whitefield for years to come. It opens up interesting avenues into the study of early evangelicalism from multiple scholarly perspectives. There is an article covering nearly every aspect of Whitefield’s life and ministry – there is something for everyone. It will also be of interest to pastors and students training for the ministry. George Whitefield was the preacher par excellence. Pastors and seminary students will forever be in Whitefield’s shadow.
[1] Boyd Stanley Schlenther, ‘Whitefield’s Personal Life and Character’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 12–28.
[2] Mark K. Olson, ‘Whitefield’s Conversion and Early Theological Formation’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 29–45.
[3] William Gibson, ‘Whitefield and the Church of England’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 46–63.
[4] Frank Lambert, ‘Whitefield and the Enlightenment’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 64–81.
[5] Lambert, ‘Whitefield and the Enlightenment’, p. 66.
[6] Lambert, ‘Whitefield and the Enlightenment’, p. 71.
[7] Lambert, ‘Whitefield and the Enlightenment’, p.70.
[8] Carla Gardina Pestana, ‘Whitefield and Empire’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 82–97.
[9] Pestana, ‘Whitefield and Empire’, p. 82.
[10] Geordan Hammond, ‘Whitefield, John Wesley, and Revival Leadership’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 98–114.
[11] Hammond, ‘Whitefield, John Wesley, and Revival Leadership’, p. 98.
[12] Kenneth P. Minkema, ‘Whitefield, Jonathan Edwards, and Revival’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 115–31.
[13] Keith Edward Beebe and David Ceri Jones, ‘Whitefield and the ‘Celtic’ Revivals’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 132–49.
[14] Beebe & Jones, ‘Whitefield and the ‘Celtic’ Revivals’, p. 132
[15] Brett C. McInelly, ‘Whitefield and His Critics’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 150–66.
[16] McInelly, ‘Whitefield and His Critics’, p. 150.
[17] McInelly, ‘Whitefield and His Critics’, p. 151.
[18] Braxton Boren, ‘Whitefield’s Voice’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 167–89.
[19] Boren, ‘Whitefield’s Voice’, p. 187.
[20] Emma Salgard Cunha, ‘Whitefield and Literary Affect’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 190–206.
[21] Stephen R. Berry, ‘Whitefield and the Atlantic’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 207–23.
[22] Berry, ‘Whitefield and the Atlantic’, p. 207.
[23] Berry, ‘Whitefield and the Atlantic’, p. 208.
[24] Peter Choi, ‘Whitefield, Georgia, and the Quest for Bethesda College’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 224–40.
[25] Choi, ‘Whitefield, Georgia, and the Quest for Bethesda College’, p. 225.
[26] Mark A. Noll, ‘Whitefield, Hymnody, and Evangelical Spirituality’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 241–60.
[27] Noll, ‘Whitefield, Hymnody, and Evangelical Spirituality’, p. 241.
[28] Isabel Rivers, ‘Whitefield’s Reception in England 1770–1839’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 261–77.
[29] Rivers, ‘Whitefield’s Reception in England 1770–1839’, p. 261.
[30] Andrew Atherstone, ‘Commemorating Whitefield in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries’, in Jones & Hammond, George Whitefield, pp. 278–299.
[31] Atherstone, ‘Commemorating Whitefield in the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries, p. 278.