Reflections from a humble servant in the vineyard
Dear friends, let me tell you of a time when heaven itself seemed to bend low to touch the earth—when the Spirit moved like a rushing wind across these colonies, turning hardened hearts into gardens of grace.
I’ll never forget Brother Nathan Cole’s testimony. That faithful farmer from Hartford—a man much like you or me—once felt the weight of his soul’s hunger. Then came the glorious news: George Whitefield, that fiery vessel of the Lord, would preach just twelve miles away! Nathan dropped his plow, saddled his horse faster than a jackrabbit chased by hounds, and raced to Middletown with his dear wife. There, under open skies, Whitefield stood like a messenger from the throne room itself. “My old foundations shattered,” Nathan would say, tears in his eyes. “I saw my rags of righteousness couldn’t save me—only Christ’s blood could!” 1
The First Tremors of Revival
Long before Whitefield’s voice thundered across our fields, the ground was being prepared. Saints like Solomon Stoddard—old Jonathan Edwards’ grandfather—watered the seeds in Northampton. Over in New Jersey, Pastor Frelinghuysen, that Dutch Pietist, stirred his flock like a mother hen rousing her chicks. And let’s not forget the Tennent brothers—Presbyterians with fire in their bones—who plowed the rocky soil of Pennsylvania. 4
Then, in the 1730s, young Jonathan Edwards—oh, what a mind the Lord gave him!—began preaching justification by faith with such clarity that Northampton shook. His account of those days, A Faithful Narrative, became kindling for revival fires on both sides of the Atlantic. 2
Whitefield: God’s Trumpet
But friends, it was George Whitefield—that Anglican tornado—who turned sparks into wildfire! He didn’t care for pulpits or propriety. No sir—he’d preach in fields, on tree stumps, anywhere souls gathered. Benjamin Franklin once calculated 30,000 could hear that voice! Day after day in 1740, crowds of 8,000 hung on his every word. 4
Some stiff-collared clergy clucked their tongues. “Enthusiasm!” they cried. But Whitefield knew—just as our Lord did with the Samaritan woman—that the Gospel isn’t chained to steeples or status. He spoke to hearts, not hierarchies. And oh, how hearts responded! Farmers wept, merchants trembled, and even skeptics like Franklin emptied their pockets for Whitefield’s orphanage. 2
Fruits of the Harvest
The Awakening wasn’t just about Whitefield, though. Look how the Lord worked through others! Baptists like Shubal Stearns carried the flame to Carolina backwoods. Up in Canada, Henry Alline—bless him—preached a sweeter grace than some of our Reformed brothers liked. And Isaac Backus? Why, he became a bulldog for religious liberty here in New England! 3
A Legacy for Us All
Now, some scholars tie these revivals to political winds—say it fueled independence from England. Maybe so. But brothers and sisters, let’s not miss the greater truth: This Awakening showed that God still moves among the lowly. It wasn’t bishops or synods that changed America—it was transformed cobblers, farmers, and yes, even us small-town preachers clinging to the old, old story.
As I ponder Nathan Cole’s story, I’m reminded of Isaiah 64:1—”Oh, that you would rend the heavens and come down!” Friends, may we till our hearts’ soil, praying for another awakening. For if God could use a stammering Anglican and a bookish pastor like Edwards, surely He can use us too.
To God be the glory—great things He has done!
