Volume Two

This new book has arrived, late, but perfectly timed for my reflection. It is the second volume by Mr. Arnold Dallimore, and it speaks plainly of the failings of truly great men. He recounts the saddening loss of Howell Harris and the contention between the prideful Wesley brothers and the dear, good-hearted Mr. George Whitefield. The contents of this volume are far more explicit than the first. In truth, some parts are so shocking that I struggle to believe them. It is a terrible reminder: even when men of faith are mightily used by God, they remain only men, full of wretchedness and sin. I had painted them in my mind as "Men of God" without blemish, but this book shows them in full light—their humanity, their struggles, and their arguments. Though I shall never reach their heights of usefulness in ministry, I am now better reminded to look inward, to keep up a constant self-examination, and to strive for faithfulness with the very little that has been entrusted to my care.

It is a truth worth lamenting that Pride is an ailment inherited by every son and daughter of Adam; yet, Humility serves as the true emblem of our heavenly citizenship. This insidious sin—so effortlessly acquired in the quiet recesses of the heart—is a dreadful agent of ruin, frequently inflicting wounds upon a ministry that can never be undone. In this regard, we can do no better than to examine the commendable figure of Mr. Whitefield. He exhibited a heaven-born humility, even when faced with the surprising and often frustrating candor of Mr. Wesley. I confess, a mere mortal would be tempted to cast blame upon Whitefield for his restraint—for failing to exhibit righteous anger at the ungrateful manner in which the Wesleys recompensed his kindness and goodwill. But it is precisely because of his gentle submission that greater and more enduring blessings were poured forth upon Mr. Whitefield's labors. The evidence of this Divine Favor, manifested in the wide reach of Mr. Whitefield's ministry, and the subsequent demise (or, at best, the constrained fate) of Mr. Wesley's legacy with Methodism, remains strikingly clear for all to witness even to this day. A humble spirit is often rewarded with an inheritance far more vast than any earthly ambition could procure.

The passing weeks have proven, by a singular Divine Providence, to be profoundly engrossing, for I have been permitted to immerse myself more fully in my studies and prayers regarding the path of service I am now considering. Yet, in the middle of all this, one of my many conditions saw fit to strike me for the second time in the quiet hours of the Lord's Day morn. I was, at that hour, engaged in the very act of setting down the sacred message, when the pain rendered me so weak that I could scarce stand upright or speak a word. But I confess, my mind was not troubled by my present physical infirmity. Indeed, this trial of the body is, when set against the weight of my calling, the least of my burdens. My soul remains fixed upon the greater duty.