The Spirit of Early Evangelicalism – A Book Review


D. Bruce Hindmarsh, The Spirit of Early Evangelicalism: True Religion in a Modern World (Oxford, 2018)

The Spirit of Early Evangelicalism by Professor Bruce Hindmarsh is a stellar addition to the constellation of scholarly books on the emergence of evangelicalism during the eighteenth century. It makes a fine addition to his previous books on John Newton and the evangelical conversion narrative. His purpose in writing this particular volume was to explore evangelical religious experience holistically in the light of the ‘momentous changes’ to society and culture during the eighteenth century. Hindmarsh seeks to contextualise early evangelicalism within the rise of modernity both in the light of the scientific revolution and the eighteenth-century enlightenment. While Hindmarsh chooses to focus on evangelical spirituality in particular – what Henry Scougal described as ‘the life of God in the soul of man’ – he nonetheless adopts a multidisciplinary approach in general by bringing together intellectual history, early modern philosophy, and the history of science, law, and art.

The first chapter focuses on the evangelical devotion and spirituality of the ‘boy parson’, George Whitefield. Hindmarsh considers the spiritual fire that animated his preaching, his intensive personal devotion, and sensational early ministry. Whitefield emerges as a larger than life figure, the very embodiment of the spirit of evangelicalism. The second chapter considers the relationship between evangelicalism and the transition to modernity during the eighteenth century. Evangelicalism emerges both as something old (looking backward to the Reformation and Puritan practical divinity) and as something new in its commitment to transform society and win the world for Christ. The idea of revival itself implies bringing a newness and vitality to something old. This naturally leads to third chapter – a stellar discussion on the classical sources of evangelical spirituality, the very sources which evangelicals sought to revive in their own piety and devotion. Hindmarsh considers a variety of sources from the Reformation principle of sola scriptura, to the Anglican formularies (the 39 Articles of Religion, the prayer book, and homilies), to Puritan and Reformed sources, especially their devotional and practical literature on spiritual experience and the Christian life. In particular, Hindmarsh notes the importance of both the Puritan divine Henry Scougal and the Devotio Moderna canon regular Thomas à Kempis, the author of The Imitation of Christ. 

The fourth chapter proceeds to a consideration of evangelicalism and the rise of science or natural philosophy during the eighteenth century. Here Hindmarsh follows W. R. Ward in noting the esoteric and alchemical interests of certain evangelicals as the discipline of science began to emerge, and he also explores early evangelical fascination with Newtonianism. The idea of a clockwork universe finely tuned according to the design and providence of God had an obvious apologetic appeal to early evangelicals in their struggle against deism and irreligion. Here Jonathan Edwards receives considerable mention for his extensive notes on natural philosophy, especially regarding his ruminations on being and mind, the re-enchantment of nature, and his unusual doctrine of continuous creation. The fifth chapter builds upon these themes – considering Augustus Toplady’s reflections on necessity and mechanics, noting how these scientific themes were employed polemically against Wesley in the Calvinist-Arminian controversy. The physico-doxology of James Hervey’s Meditations and Contemplations is explored in considerable depth, noting his wonder and awe at God’s beautiful design in creation. And various others in “Hervey’s school” are considered: Isaac Milner a Cambridge Newtonian and conservative empiricist and John Russell whose careful attention to detail resulted in remarkably accurate and beautiful drawings of the moon – a work in which science, art, and religious wonder coalesce.

Hindmarsh then takes a transition from natural philosophy to natural law and the making of the evangelical conscience in the sixth and seventh chapters. He focuses on the significant and almost Lutheran distinction between Law and Gospel in evangelical preaching – the Law revealing sin and the Gospel providing remedy. He zooms into a case of George Whitfield preaching vividly before the hanging scaffold of condemned prisoners at Kennington Common, reminding listeners vividly of the reality of life, death, and divine judgement. The seventh chapter considers the relationship between law and evangelical conversion with a case study of evangelical prison ministry to the condemned, a place where the reality of divine mercy to even the worst of criminals is made abundantly clear in evangelical preaching. Hindmarsh moves from the jail cell to the libraries of scholars and considers evangelical interaction with moral philosophy during the eighteenth century, particularly as expressed in the thought of Charles Wesley and the ethics of Jonathan Edwards. Edwards is a particular case of interest as his work on the nature of true virtue considers love to God as befitting whom God is in Himself – the Being of beings – an idea reminiscent of Anselm’s ontological argument. For both Edwards and Wesley, Hindmarsh also notes their expression of the positive uses of the Law in harmony with the Gospel as the Law provides a rule of life and holiness for regenerate believers.

The final chapter takes an interesting turn to aesthetics – art and evangelical spirituality. Hindmarsh takes the novel approach of reading the Calvinist-Arminian controversy in the light of art and literature. He compares the conflict between Wesley and Whitefield to the rivalry between Joshua Reynolds and Thomas Gainsborough over ideals of beauty, comparing the portraits made by both artists of the same sitter, Sarah Siddons. Where Reynolds sought to emphasise the lofty ideals of ethics and morality in terms of neo-platonic universals, Gainsborough sought exact likeness and ‘empirical truth according to nature’, an approach to art emphasising the particulars of experience and sight. As with Wesley and Whitefield, both Reynolds and Gainsborough were eventually reconciled in spite of their differences. However, in something of conceptual leap, Hindmarsh compares the Calvinist and Arminian controversy to differing spiritual aspirations – the Calvinist sublime (the sheer immensity of the love and power of God overwhelming the human heart and mind, especially seen in the theology of Jonathan Edwards) and Wesleyan inward agony (the sense of effort involved in working out salvation with fear and trembling). Where Calvinist devotion and ethics flowed from the humbling experience of the sublimity of God, Wesleyan ethics emerged from the inward agonies of intensive spirituality and a striving after godliness. 

Without a doubt The Spirit of Early Evangelicalism will be highly valued by students and scholars working in this field, especially those studying Edwards, Whitefield, and the Wesley brothers. Hindmarsh shows how evangelical spirituality manifested itself in different ways in the literature they read, the sermons they preached, the science and ethics they appropriated and adopted, and even in the aesthetics of a Calvinist sublime and Wesleyan angst. However, one feels a chapter on evangelicalism and the enlightenment is missing from this study – perhaps more work needs to be done in marrying these two seemingly disparate worlds together before scholars will willingly open this particular can of worms. Be that as it may, this is a study of outstanding scholarly quality and historical insight, a pleasure to read and a delight from beginning to end. 

Anxiety


I suffer with anxiety – not the kind of wobbly stomach you get before exams, but the kind that has caused me to self-harm with a razor blade and seriously contemplate suicide. The problem is the thoughts ceaselessly spinning around in my head – a never ending background chatter, a mixture of nonsense, serious thoughts, and dark, unwanted thoughts. I’m writing this because too many people feel ashamed to speak about their mental health. And I hope this helps someone to get help before they spiral out of control like I’ve done.


What does anxiety feel like?

An anxiety disorder is something equivalent to the fire of hell raging in the mind. I find myself overthinking every possibility, event, and conversation, obsessing over thoughts both dark and mundane, catastrophising the future, repeating bits of nonsense to myself, attempting to discern the thoughts of others and anticipating hypothetical conversations. It’s exhausting. The emotional life is no better with feelings of despair, dread, angst, terror – anxiety seems like too small a word to capture the inward agony of mind. Some of the thoughts are dark, intrusive, disturbing, even terrifying. I find myself feeling tearful, frustrated, angry with myself and others, upset, and low to the point of death. It’s a frightening place to be. I feel the dread physically in my chest, throat, and stomach, the pounding of my heart, the walls closing in, a sense of shutting down, feeling unreal, distant. Dead.


Getting Help

It took sometime before I went to see the GP. I was ashamed of myself. But I should’ve gone much sooner and perhaps the worst of this could have been avoided. The GP was lovely – a wonderful help to me. Since then I’ve been referred to a crisis team who’ve been looking after me for a while with nurses coming to the house every other day. And I’ve recently been introduced to my community psychiatric nurse who will be taking over my care in the near future. The various medications have helped greatly – citalopram for anxiety and depression, chlorpromazine (an antipsychotic) to take the edge of the worst of the anxiety, pregabalin which stops my brain from releasing the chemicals that make me feel anxious, and zopiclone to help me sleep at night. These tablets have helped – there’s no shame in needing them – and have brought me to a place of some stability and calm.

Alongside the tablets, the crisis team have helped me with talking therapy and a form of CBT known as Acceptance & Commitment Therapy (ACT). They’ve helped me get my thoughts off my chest and out into the open. Just talking about these things does the soul a world of good. It is a release it itself.


ACT Therapy & Mindfulness

ACT therapy is about accepting thoughts as they come and go and making commitments – small at first – to help improve wellbeing and social interaction according to wholesome values such as kindness and compassion.


The therapy uses mindfulness practices to help bring you into the present moment rather than worrying about the future or ruminating on the past. Mindfulness is not about emptying the mind, but about noticing thoughts as they come and go with a soft focus. The aim is not to get rid of thoughts, but simply to learn how to let them come and go without struggle. Mindfulness is about bringing awareness to the here-and-now experience with curiosity and friendly interest. For example, to ground myself in the present moment, I notice 5 things I can see, three things I can hear, and two things I can smell or feel. It may seem a simple exercise, but it works – even when the thoughts are spiralling out of control, it really helps.


Mindfulness encourages a soft focus on the present through bringing attention to the breath. As your breath is always with you (unless, of course, you’re dead!), it always brings you into the present moment. It is surprising how simply focusing on just ten breaths – in and out – can help alleviate some of the distress caused by anxiety. At first it was hard just to focus on ten breaths, but with practice I now find myself able to sit for ten to fifteen minutes just breathing in the present. I find it helps to count the breath – one to ten, ten to one, especially when I have trouble focusing. Thoughts will come and go. And I may find myself distracted or hooked by some thoughts, but eventually I bring my awareness back to the breath. And it’s okay for the mind to wander, it’s okay for thoughts to come and go, but as soon as I notice my mind has meandered away I bring my focus back to the breath – to the present, the here-and-now. I’ve found the Headspace app for my mobile phone and computer very helpful in guiding me through the breathing exercises and mindfulness meditations. The first ten exercises cover the basics of mindfulness and are free to use, while the others require subscription and go in to greater depth by introducing other ways of calming the mind. Headspace has been a lifesaver for me.


In addition to mindfulness, there are six core principles of ACT therapy: cognitive defusion, acceptance, contact with the present moment, the observing-self, wholesome values, and committed action.


Cognitive Defusion

Cognitive defusion has taught me how to defuse unwanted thoughts by learning to view my thoughts as little more than bits of language in the mind as opposed to how they often appear as threatening, terrifying realities. For even my darkest thoughts are only thoughts – just bits of language, words and pictures in the mind. Simple ways to defuse a thought include acknowledging the thought and saying ‘thanks mind’. Singing a thought to some nonsense tune over and over like Happy Birthday can make light of even the darkest thoughts. And putting some distance between yourself and the thought by saying, ‘I’m having the thought that ….’, realising that it’s only a thought and not reality.


Acceptance

Acceptance is about allowing thoughts to come and go – making room for unpleasant thoughts and feelings in the mind. I find it helpful to think of my thoughts like clouds passing in the sky – sometimes the sky is stormy and terrifying, sometimes calm. But behind the clouds, there is always blue sky. Behind a frowning providence, God hides His smiling face. There is always a place of peace and calm, even in the midst of a storm. Acceptance trains the mind to let thoughts pass by without struggle, letting them come and go without giving them too much credence or attention.


Contact with the Present   

Contact with the present moment trains the mind to be in the here-and-now rather than morbidly reflecting on the past or catastrophising the future. It encourages contact with the here-and-now reality – the present – through mindfulness. It brings awareness to moment by moment experience – the breath in and out – and to consider this moment with openness, friendly interest, and a soft focus on whatever you are doing, being aware of the sights, sounds, smells, and senses. Instead of washing the dishes worrying about tomorrow, mindfulness allows you to enjoy the sounds of the cutlery clanking, the feel of the bubbles against the water, the smell of fairy liquid, and the sound of the birds tweeting in the garden. It brings you to the present. Why worry about tomorrow? Each day has enough trouble of its own.


The Observing Self

The observing-self is the transcendent sense of self – the soul, a place of constant awareness, consciousness, perhaps a fragment of the divine image. That part of the mind that is unchanging, ever-present, and invulnerable is known in ACT therapy as the observing self. No thought can harm the true self. For from the viewpoint of the soul, no thought is ultimately harmful. It’s just a thought. And even the darkest thoughts will pass away, but the soul will remain immortal. ACT does not shy away from the spirituality of human experience – the transcendent sense of self is able to observe with interest, openness, and friendliness all that passes through the mind and the senses.
   

Values

Connecting with your values is a key principle of ACT therapy. It’s important to clarify what is most important to you in life – your faith, your family, your vocation. Deep in your heart, what matters the most to you? What kind of person would you like to be? Think of wholesome values. Compassion, kindness, love towards family, friends, colleagues, and neighbours. ACT encourages you to think about what is significant and meaningful in your life – what you stand for and believe in. Reflecting upon your values brings more wholesome thoughts into you mind and awareness. Your values give you something to life for – a sense of meaning and purpose.


Committed Action

Committed Action is about setting your values in motion. Putting reasonable goals in place and acting to fulfil them. They may be small at first, especially if you’ve struggled with anxiety or depression, like going to a coffee shop with a friend or cooking a meal for your family. Long term goals may include working towards a qualification, getting a promotion at work, changing jobs, retraining, studying at university, learning a new skill or language. Committed action gives you something to do, taking your mind away from dark thoughts to something constructive and wholesome for your general wellbeing.


These principles have helped me as much as the medication to retrain my mind to focus on the present and the things that really matter. With the support of nurses and doctors, I hope to get better. It’s a long way yet, but these practices and principles have helped me greatly, and I hope they’ll help readers of my blog to get help sooner if they need it and to practice being in the present moment rather than worrying about the past or the future.


Recommended Reading

Baer, Ruth, ‘Mindfulness Training as a Clinical Intervention: A Conceptual and Empirical Review’, Clinical Psychology: Science and Practice, 10, 2 (Summer, 2003), 125–43.

Harris, Russell, ‘Embracing Your Demons: An Overview of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy’, Psychotherapy in Australia, 12, 4 (August, 2006), 2–8.
 
Harris, Russell, ‘Mindfulness without Meditation’, HCPJ (October, 2009), 21–24.

Harris, Russell, The Happiness Trap (2008).

Hayes, S. C. & Chad, Shenk, ‘Operationalising mindfulness without unnecessary attatchments’, Clinical Psychology: Science and Practice, 11, 3 (2004), 249–54.  

Hayes, S. C., Masuda, A., & De Mey, H., ‘Acceptance and Commitment Therapy and the third wave of behaviour therapy’, in Gedragstherapie (Dutch Journal of Behavior Therapy), 2 (2003) 69-96.

Kabat Zinn, Jon, Wherever You Go, There You Are (2004).

Stanton M, Dunkley C, ‘First Steps in Mindfulness Skills’, Nursing Times, 107, 6 (2011), 22–24.



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