RESTING PLACE FOR GEORGE WHITEFIELD

Recently, my wife gave me a bright red sweat shirt with Newburyport, Massachusetts, imprinted on it to wear. I remember buying in there because the weather was raining and rather cold. Newburyport is a small coastal city in Essex County, Massachusetts, 38 miles northeast of Boston and is accustomed for that kind of weather.

The shirt brought back some interesting history about the evangelist who was preaching in New England when the founder of the northern region of my denomination was converted.

Following the ministry of the Methodist evangelist and preacher George Whitefield in the region, the First Presbyterian Church "Old South" of Newburyport began meeting in the 1750s, He died in Newburyport in 1770 and his remains were buried under the pulpit of this church at his request where his tomb remains to this day.

I stood in the pulpit and gazed over the auditorium, with a large seating area on the floor, and about as much in the balconey, that surrounded the large assembly area.

My memory recalled the hundreds Whitefield had preached to there in times past.

After departing the evalvated platform, the church organist asked if we would like to see Whitefield’s grave underneath where I had been standing.

We entered a doorway behind the pulpit area and went down a number of stairs to a lighted area where Whitefield and two other former pastors had been buried. It was a solemn occasion for me.

In the New World Whitefield preached from Georgia to New England, always raising money for the orphanage he had established in Savannah.

New York, Boston, Philadelphia, the Carolinas, and Harvard University: all were beneficiaries of his ministry as he was anything but "the generality of preachers who talk of an unknown and unfelt Christ."

On another occasion, I visited Harvard and tried to find the famous picture of Whitefield who was reported of his being cross-eyed. Sure enough he was and a picture on my Blog page contains a photo of it.

In a time when crossing the Atlantic Ocean was a long and hazardous adventure, he visited America seven times, making 13 trans-Atlantic crossings in total. It is estimated that throughout his life, he preached more than 18,000 formal sermons. In addition to his work in America and England, he made 15 journeys to Scotland, two to Ireland, and one each to Bermuda, Gibraltar, and The Netherlands.

When he returned to America in November 1739 he preached nearly every day for months to large crowds of sometimes several thousand people as he travelled throughout the colonies, especially New England.


He is considered to be one of the fathers of Evangelicalism. He was the best-known preacher in England and America in the 18th century, and because he travelled through all of the American colonies and drew great crowds and media coverage, he was one of the most widely recognized public figures in America before George Washington.

Another interesting fact about the Old South church is that the bell in the clock tower was cast by Paul Revere.

Among the notable people to attend church were "Lord" Timothy Dexter, Capt. Abraham Wheelwright, Isaac Wheelwright, Caleb Cushing, Adolphus Greely, and Samuel Tufts.

Whitefield parted company with John Wesley over the doctrine of predestination. Three churches were established in England in his name. Whitefield acted as chaplain to Selina, Countess of Huntingdon and some of his followers joined the Countess of Huntingdon's Connexion, whose chapels were paid for at her sole expense and where a form of Calvinistic Methodism similar to Whitefield's could be spread. Many of these chapels were built in the English counties and Wales, and one was erected in London.

Like his contemporary and acquaintance, Jonathan Edwards, Whitefield preached with a staunch conviction: "Come poor, lost, undone sinner, come just as you are to Christ.”

IN HIS STEPS

In His Steps -

In my travels I have had many opportunities to meet great men. One such person was Garrett Shelton, a professor at the University of Virginia-Wise and pastor of the First Baptist church in Big Stone Gap.

He wrote What Would Jesus Do which paralleled the WWJD excitement a few years ago.

However, Garrett’s additional claim to fame is he is the great-grandson of the infamous Charles Sheldon who wrote In His Steps.

In 1889 he moved west to become pastor of the fledgling Central Congregational Church in Topeka, Kan. He announced he would preach "a Christ for the common people. A Christ who belongs to the rich and poor, the ignorant and learned, the old and young, the good and the bad . . . a Christ who bids us all recognize the Brotherhood of the race, who bids throw open this room to all."

The most successful series, In His Steps, concerned the inhabitants of a town who pledged themselves to live for a year as Jesus would live. It was first published serially in 1896 and in book form in 1897. The unifying theme of these sermons was based on posing the question, "what would Jesus do?" when facing moral decisions.

In 1900 Dr. Sheldon proposed that the local newspaper should be operated as Christ would operate them. The owner allowed Dr. Sheldon to serve as "editor" for a week in March. The "Sheldon Edition" sent circulation from 12,000 daily to 387,000. The Capital's pressroom was swamped, and other printing facilities, one in New York and one in Chicago, each printed 120,000. The Daily Capital printed the other 120,000 papers by using an extra work force.

The Advance, a Congregational weekly magazine in Chicago, purchased the story for $75.00 and published it serially in thirty-one installments beginning November 5, 1896. Sheldon offered the manuscript to three book publishers who turned it down. Finally J. C. Kilner, manager of the Advance Publishing Company, which had never before published any fiction, decided to bring out In His Steps in book form. The first printing of a few thousand copies consisted of cloth and paper bound volumes, the former priced at one dollar; the paperback, twenty-five cents. Two years later a ten cent paperback edition was published. By 1900 Advance had published nearly 600,000 copies in five editions.

Because "In His Steps" was in the public domain virtually from the get-go, companies could print copies of it without the author's permission, not owing Sheldon a cent. More than a century later, some 50 million copies had been published, making it second in sales among religious books behind only the Bible.

Dr. Eric Goldman of the Saturday Literary Review singled out In His Steps as one of eight books which have changed America

Charles Monroe Sheldon was born in 1857 and grew up in the Dakota Territory, where his parents homesteaded in a log cabin he helped build. His father, Rev. Steward Shelton, was the Territory's first home missionary superintendent, founding 100 churches in 10 years. Young Sheldon "hunted with the Dakotas, fished with them, slept with them on the open prairie, and learned some of their language."

Sheldon graduated from Andover in the class of 1879.

One of the remarks I recall from my friend Garrett Sheldon was, "By the time he left home to go to school, he had heard the entire Bible read aloud five times. Now think of that!"

Besides the Bible this is one book everybody should read.

“A good name is rather to be chosen than great riches, and loving favour rather than silver and gold.” -- Proverbs 22:1

MONUMENT VALLEY

Beautiful Monument Valley a Navajo Holy Place

A couple friends and I rented a plane in Page, Arizona to see one of the most glorious places in America. The sights from the air are unsurpassed and the only way 99% of the area can be seen. When the three hours was up I still welcomed more of this place.

It is not only beautiful in a unique sort of way, but Monument Valley provides perhaps the most enduring and definitive images of the American West. The isolated red mesas and buttes surrounded by empty, sandy desert have been filmed and photographed countless times over the years for movies, advertisements, and holiday brochures. Because of this, the area may seem quite familiar, even on a first visit, but it is soon evident that the natural colors really are as bright and deep as those in all the pictures. The valley is not a valley in the conventional sense, but rather a wide flat, sometimes desolate landscape, interrupted by the crumbling formations rising hundreds of feet into the air, the last remnants of the sandstone layers that once covered the entire region.

The area is entirely within the Navajo Indian Reservation on the Utah/Arizona border with the state line passing through the most famous landmarks. It preserves the Navajo way of life and some of the most striking and recognizable landscapes of sandstone buttes, mesas and spires in the entire Southwest. There is only one main road through the valley, US 163, which links Kayenta, Arizona with US 181 in Utah. The stretch approaching the state line from the north is the most famous image of the valley, and possibly of the whole Southwest - a long straight empty road leads across flat desert towards the 1,000 foot high stark red cliffs on the horizon, curving away just in front.

As well as eroded rocks, this area also has many ancient cave and cliff dwellings, natural arches and petroglyphs.

As we flew over the area in a grid-like fashion I knew I was experiencing one of the most majestic - and most photographed - points on earth.

This great valley boasts sandstone masterpieces that tower at heights of 400 to 1,000 feet. framed by scenic clouds casting shadows that graciously roam the desert floor. The angle of the sun accents these graceful formations, providing scenery that is simply spellbinding.

The landscape overwhelms, not just by its beauty but also by its size. The fragile pinnacles of rock are surrounded by miles of mesas and buttes, shrubs, trees and windblown sand, all comprising the magnificent colors of the valley.

Such a flight slowly revealed the natural wonders of Monument Valley and once again I was reminded of the beauty of God’s handiwork.

“And they shall come, and shall rest all of them in the desolate valleys, and in the holes of the rocks, and upon all thorns, and upon all bushes.” - Isaiah 7:19

MORE THAT TWO GRUNTS

It took more than two grunts to get it back up into the air

One of the most hair raising experiences of my life came while visiting Ketchikan, Alaska. Two other couples were traveling with my wife and I and we decided to take a float plane to the beautiful Misty fjords region. The Misty Fjords National Monument was created by President Jimmy Carter within the Tongass National Forest in 1978 and Congress reconfirmed the wilderness classification in 1980. This area is a 202-million-acre national treasure where in flight you will see from a different perspective hundreds of waterfalls, shear granite and basalt cliffs shooting 3-4 thousand feet into the air, with trees growing everywhere, even out of shear rock, and a temperate rain forest from sea level.

During the 2-3 hour flight you will see wildlife that may include seals, deer, bear, marbled murrelets, bald eagles, guellemonts and others to numerous to mention.

To add to the excitement of the flight the pilot announced he was going to land the plane to give us a closer view of the surroundings. Well, I was already wondering where we would land if we had trouble with the plane, and now he said we would be landing. My eyes bounced from one solid rock mountain to another with nothing to land on or near. Then a small tiny body of water popped into view. That can’t be where he was referring, I thought. It was! In just minutes we were hidden between huge cliffs with snow covering them in every place. The float touched down easily on the calm lake. All six of us were invited to walk on the landing pontoons of the plane and for about 30 minutes we laughed and enjoyed the most serene place I had every been.

Time to go! The pilot commanded. With our seat belts snapped, he turned to us and told us he would need to back the plane all the way to the land because he would need all the water possible to take off. Hmmmm! I pondered. He got us down here, but getting out of here looks impossible. I began to have some concern as I looked ahead and to each side nothing but high granite rocks. The two engines started and he reveled them fast as the plane began its forward move. In front was the huge darken mountain and I was not able to see above it. The plane was now higher in the air, but the stone mountain was still ahead with no view of the sky above. I was nearly to resolve that we would hit it until all at once the plane leaned to the right at a 90 degree turn and I was able to see the valley between the two cliffs. I felt I could touch each one and dip out a hand of snow as he continued to climb until we were above both. What a relief! How majestic.

I was reminded of a book written by a friend entitled, “God has never failed me, but he has scared me to death a few times.”

There is another book full of truths beyond our thinking.

“Before the mountains were brought forth, or before you had formed the earth and the world, even from everlasting to everlasting, thou art God.” Psalm 90:2

ENTERING CAIRO WAS FRIGHTENING

A Frighten entrance into Cairo

It had been a long flight from Amsterdam, Netherlands to Cairo, Egypt, having left Holland in the mid-morning and crossing a few time zones we finally landed in Cairo just after sundown.

After getting our luggage it had become very dark, but knew we had to make our way down a passage way that had wooden fences as barriers to find a bus that would transport us over to Giza about 30 miles away.

"Stock photos provided by http://www.aradise.com/."

It had been a long flight from Amsterdam, Netherlands to Cairo, Egypt, having left Holland in the mid-morning and crossing a few time zones we finally landed in Cairo just after sundown.

After getting our luggage it had become very dark, but knew we had to make our way down a passage way that had wooden fences as barriers to find a bus that would transport us over to Giza about 30 miles away. However, getting to the bus was somewhat scary as there were hundreds of Egyptians hollering, at us, and to us, which made the journey alarming as we speeded up to get away. It had the feeling of being in a gaunlet thinking they were harassing us and wanting to jump over the fences to get us. Of course, they could have been shouting the names of a person they were waiting for, or perhaps they really were expressing anti-foreigner saying. To this day, I don’t know! But rejoiced when we were safely out from those sounds.

After getting to a beautiful Swiss owned hotel we went directly to our room and collapsed. Due to the time zone changes, I woke the next morning about 3 a.m. thinking it was time to be up and about.

Not wanting to disturb my roommate I quietly slipped on some garments and departed outside and noticed the sky was clear and the sun was already lighting the horizon. To my surprise I saw the largest of three pyramids behind some of the trees. I moved over to the side of the tree barrier and sat down on a bench and watched the sun as it slowly explored the tomb of one of the old pharaohs of this land.

After a couple hours, I saw my room partner, who had been born in Lebanon, but was brought to America as a lad, come over and sat beside me. All of a sudden, he saw what I had been glaring at all morning, and he began to cry. His remarks of “ I have wanted to come back to the land of my people all these years and now I am able to view something I had only read about. With uncontrollable tears he loudly proclaimed. Thank you for letting me see this before I die.”

Before the day was over we had not only had a good look at the outside, but were able to go into a portion of this renowned structure. While there are over 80 pyramids in Egypt, these three in Giza are the best known and the largest. Before the week was concluded in that ancient land we had visited most the areas of historic prominence and the well-known Cairo museum.

For nearly a week and a half my friend and I visited site after site of the Middle East and always his remarks were the same.

Leviticus 19:34
“But the stranger that dwelleth with you shall be unto you as one born among you, and thou shalt love him as thyself; for ye were strangers in the land of Egypt: I am the Lord your God.”

I'M GOING HOME, I'M GOING HOME

GOING HOME

He raised his head and slowly lifted his tear-filled eyes after a brief but sincere prayer. I had never met this man before, but his first words to me as I sat down were, “I’m going home.”

So was I. After an enjoyable ministry to a convention of missionaries from Brazil and Urugary, I was headed home. But I had only been away from home for three weeks. He had been gone from home for more that 30 years.

Little did I realize that this small oriental man had suffered so much for so long. The Brazilian airliner was not far into its flight from Sao Paulo to Rio de Janeiro before we learned we were fellow believers. Afterwards he began to unburden his heart.

I was thrilled to learn that he was a pastor from Korea, and found he had been in San Paulo for all these years. Nothing about his conversation seemed unusual until he said, “I wish I could see your homeland. But I can’t I’m a North Korean and I am changing planes in Rio.

“Brazil was open to some of us after the war, and for all these years I have served the Lord here in Brazil. But now I’m going home.”

Further conversation revealed the man had been led to Christ by the pastor of a large church during the conflict between North and South Korea. His conversion took place in a refugee camp where he had sought safety after escaping from his own detachment after an argument with his commanding officer.

In time, the new Christian left his divided homeland in search of freedom. He settled in South America. Steadily his love for Christ grew and his desire to share the unsearchable riches of Christ prevailed.

As I thought of our common calling—both of us were preachers---I reflected on our differences. He was born in an oppressive society. I was born in a democracy. He came to Christ as he knelt in the mud of a smelly, crowded refugee village. I was saved in a lovely little church. He sought freedom from captivity in order to preach. I have always had freedom to preach about the One of whom I am bound—a slave of love.

He longed for home but until now was afraid to return. I am free to return home anytime. Nothing but my own cares or desires keep me away.

We were two different men from two different worlds. Yet because we had met the same Savior, we shared the same hope.

Now, both of us long to enter that place where differences of government, ideology, and race will not matter. We dream of the day when people from the four corners of the earth will come together as the sea and graves give up their dead. You see, we’re ready to go home!

“After this I beheld, and, lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands;” -- Rev. 7:9

HE MET MORE THAN HE COULD HANDLE

Ben Johnson a man’s man but he met more than his equal

Behind my desk on the ledge of my bookcase is a prized photo of Ben Johnson and me. It is a constant reminder that God can take a man out of a small unknown town and will make him something. His early days were rough and his running pal’s tough, but in the end he saw a greater star.

A long tall 6' 3" western star that was born in Oklahoma was about all I knew about Ben Johnson on the day I met him. He was in his 70’s, but still a large western type.

I learned he had been a ranch hand and rodeo performer when, in 1940, Howard Hughes hired him to take a load of horses to California. He decided to stick around (the pay was good), and for some years was a stunt man, horse wrangler, and double for such stars as Wild Bill Elliott, John Wayne, Gary Cooper, and James Stewart. His break came when John Ford noticed him and gave him a part in an upcoming film, and eventually a star part in Wagon Master in 1950.

He left Hollywood in 1953 to return to rodeo, where he won a world roping championship, but at the end of the year he had barely cleared expenses. A prize belt buckle that he won for calf roping was stolen from his car when he visited Houston in 1976; but on a repeat visit a decade later he was on radio station KIKK when a caller returned the buckle to him.
The movies paid better, and were less risky, so he returned to the west coast and a career that saw him in over 300 movies. Johnson's weather-beaten features made him an icon for any filmmaker chronicling the American West.

He initially turned down the role in The Last Show (1971), for which he won an Academy Award, because the script contained too many curse words. He later changed his mind when with the permission of the director, Peter Bogdanovich; he rewrote his part with the offensive words removed.
Ben received a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame in 1994
He died on April 8, 1996, in Mesa, Arizona, of an apparent heart attack while visiting his mother in the 'retirement community' where not only she but he himself lived. His wife of 53 years had preceded him in 1994.
"You know, I'd say that aside from Mr. Ford's help in my career, I'd lay any success I've had to not expecting too much. I never expected to become a star and was always content to stay two or three rungs down the ladder and last awhile. When I do get a little ahead, I see what I can do to help others," he had once said.

I met Ben and Carol Johnson at my former pastor’s church in Gilbert, Arizona, only a few years before they died. The Johnson’s had a beautiful home in Scottsdale but had no problems in attending the small mission church near them in Mesa where another friend, had befriended them and told them of a greater success. My young friend preached the funeral of both to a host of their Hollywood associates and friends who had watched him from his humble beginning until he became a true western star.

Many amass millions in this life only to leave it in a bank or invested away never to see it again. But what is laid up in heaven is forever. Their days were blessed on earth but they have a brighter forever.

Matthew 6:19-20
“ Lay not up for yourselves treasures upon earth, where moth and rust doth corrupt, and where thieves break through and steal: But lay up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust doth corrupt, and where thieves do not break through nor steal: “