ONE BODY MAGAZINE ARTICLES

In A Great Awakening, a film based on real events, Benjamin Franklin tells his grandson Benny the story of his friend George Whitefield, the famous traveling evangelist of the Great Awakening in America. Using Franklin’s own terms for describing headlines in his newspaper, Benny asks his grandfather, “George Whitefield – was he soothe or stoke? To which Franklin did not choose, but rather, with a smile of remembrance, replied, “Yes.” Indeed, Whitefield could either soothe or stoke the heart of the listener.    

Franklin proceeds to tell, and the film shows, how Whitefield began as a poor, aspiring English actor who had no faith but ended up at Oxford, where he was befriended by John and Charles Wesley (and others from Oxford’s Holy Club) and was converted. The film shows Whitefield struggling soon after his conversion, overzealous in his deeds and in his fasting. His Holy Club friends remind him that God was “well-pleased” with Jesus not because of His works, but at His baptism. It is then that George is obedient in baptism and becomes full of the Spirit.    

Earlier in the story, while George is still a thespian, there is a scene where Whitefield’s acting coach and mentor reminds him of the importance of projecting loudly and clearly. “Remember the source of your power. When the time comes, let them have it!” That time will come, though not as an actor on stage but as a preacher on fire.    

Whitefield becomes a minister in the Church of England, and there is a memorable scene where he is about to step up to the pulpit as a guest preacher in a stuffy church. One of the priests whispers to George, “I’m very sorry to see you here, Mr. Whitefield,” whose reply was, “So is the devil.” The young preacher begins his sermon by crumpling his manuscript and giving an anecdote at the expense of the old preachers. It is then that he lets them have it, so to speak. Declaring loudly, “I will not be a velvet-mouthed preacher,” Whitefield pounds the pulpit, removes his wig, and cries out, “Do not be deceived! You may have a religious head and yet have the devil in your heart!” Then, drawing comparisons between Nicodemus, the church at Sardis, and the stale church he was preaching in, he echoes Jesus: “You must be born again!” As Franklin tells his grandson, “The Church of England was not ready for an awakened George Whitefield.” Indeed, the church bans Whitefield from preaching, so he takes off, traveling on horseback and eventually by ship to America, preaching with passion to everyone, regardless of parish.    

When Whitefield arrives in Philadelphia in 1739 and is about to step out onto the courthouse balcony to preach to the excited thousands below, who have heard of the preacher’s acclaim, he prays, “Father, tear down the name of Whitefield if it means that your name remains.” He then launches into a sermon on the freedom, wisdom, and mystery found in Christ. While the crowd is taken by his every word, Franklin – ever the scientist – is shuffling around, trying to compute the exact range and reach of Whitefield’s powerful voice. Franklin is more interested in how many people can hear the preacher than he is in actually hearing the Word himself, even as Whitefield declares, “The fear of Him is the beginning of knowledge.”    

A Great Awakening shows us the spiritual awakening of the American colonies prior to their political awakening and the Revolution. It takes us inside the real-life friendship of a preacher and a printer, a man of faith and a man of reason. And while it doesn’t show us a conversion of the deist Franklin (despite Whitefield’s influence and personal urgings), the film, which is bookended by the events of the Constitutional Convention in 1787, ends with Franklin’s famous “Address on Prayer” – a plea for the delegates to bring back the practice of daily prayer in the assembly, arguing from scripture that “unless the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it.” After his speech, Franklin sits and remembers Whitefield’s words: “My friends, do you want to be free? Liberty is found in Him alone! Do you want to live? He alone gives eternal life! I beseech you, do not reject so great a gift. A great awakening has come. Arise, O sleeper. Awaken!” ~ LK

I like the guy on the cover of this issue of One Body. He appears to be a bit of an Everyman, a citizen from anywhere and from anytime. He could be an American, contemplating the semiquincentennial celebration of his country. He could be one of the revolutionary forebears from any number of countries. Too, he could be a citizen of the Greco-Roman world. Or perhaps he is an ancient Israelite. His face shows courage, though with a hint of vulnerability. He seems capable, but in search of wisdom. He is confident, albeit concerned. I think he loves his country. 

In Acts 17:26-27, Paul refers to another everyman, Adam, when he wrote that God “made from one man every nation of mankind to live on all the face of the earth, having determined allotted periods and the boundaries of their dwelling place, that they should seek God, and perhaps feel their way toward him and find him.” Beyond pointing out our shared ancestry and our human dignity that comes from being created in the image of God, these verses highlight God’s sovereignty over all nations in every era – and, by extension, the citizens thereof. God has planted me in this land, and I will love it and strive to thrive in it, even as I seek Him. I will be civic-minded and patriotic, but also salvation-minded and pacific. I will always seek the face of God and the place of God, knowing that “here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come” (Hebrews 13:14). In His sovereignty, the Lord has given us our earthly citizenship; in His love, He has beckoned us to our heavenly citizenship.   

In this issue, you will find twelve articles on the theme of The Citizen. Each article is distinct in its focus, but in each there is consideration of our dual citizenship – our roles here as we prepare for our eternity there, our often awkward and paradoxical positions of being at once a citizen and an alien. It seems that our call to Christian stewardship demands that we not only judiciously manage our resources and selflessly employ our talents, but also wisely tend to our communities. In “The Primacy of Christ,” Leonard Andrie connects this aspect of stewardship, this calling, to the Lord’s Prayer. He says that when we petition God for His will to be done on earth as it is in heaven, we essentially ask Him to give us leaders “whose ways of thinking, relating toward, and serving the democratic body best reflect the beauty and reality of heaven,” and that we thus have the duty to “strive to help build a culture of justice and love that is perfectly expressed in heaven” (Evangelism & Culture, Fall 2024). 

On pages eight and nine of this issue, Dr. Mark Scott writes on “Leveraging Your Citizenship for the Gospel.” In his article, he says, “A Christian is a member of two kingdoms – one from above and one from below. Since the believer is a citizen of heaven, should not that believer be the best citizen on earth?” I believe the answer should be “Yes!” If we are to shine like stars in the sky or bright lights in the world (Philippians 2:15) and maintain honorable conduct among the non-believers (1 Peter 2:12), then shouldn’t our citizenship, which God gave to us, be part of that brilliant reflection? Should it not be part of our salt and our light? 

Jesus, in the Sermon on the Mount, gives us a glimpse of what the Kingdom citizen should look like: coming in our spiritual poverty to hunger and thirst for His righteousness, out of which comes our demonstrated love for those around us. Jesus has given us spiritual direction with a heart-understanding of His law. And God has given each of us our gifts and talents, from which we make our living and from which we create and sustain in the time and place that God has given us. 

The Christian citizen, even while seeking the kingdom of God, should be decidedly and demonstrably virtuous, as virtue must uphold the civic arena in which God has placed us. The American founding fathers understood that. John Adams said of the Constitution that it was good “only for a moral and religious people. It is wholly inadequate to govern any other.” Benjamin Franklin knew that “Only a virtuous people are capable of freedom.” The bright and salty Christian ought to be Christlike, while living the cardinal virtues of prudence, justice, courage, and temperance. He ought to bear the virtuous spirit-fruit of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control. He ought to be orderly, industrious, generous, dutiful, and responsible. He ought to love his land and his fellow man, all the while faithfully plowing for truth, goodness, and beauty in God’s world – the place from which we seek Him, feel our way toward Him, and find Him.