Christians affirm the bad news as well as the good. Because we are people of the truth, we should be the most honest about sin and its effects, past and present. And we should be the most optimistic about those who profess faith in Christ. We may have our doubts about this sinner and that, often times for very good reasons. But if we believe in the gospel, we should agree that nobody’s worst sins define them in the eyes of God—even if they do taint or corrupt them in the eyes of man. Sin can tarnish our legacy. But in Christ, it cannot solidify our identity.
On that note, as we are radically honest about the figures from church history who have brought their entire legacies into question with the enduring black mark of their own sin, we should be as equally ruthlessly honest about ourselves. Thus:
Let Us All Take Heed Lest We Fall
As I said, I don’t think it will do to call Whitefield’s advocacy of slavery a “blind spot.” He was complicit. He was duplicitous. He bears his own responsibility for tarnishing his own legacy at the expense and abuse of people made in God’s image. He brings his own profession into question. Nevertheless, I want to be circumspect. I want to ask myself the question, “What, in the future, might people look back on and wonder about in the light of my public profession of faith? Is there anything in my life and teaching now that brings my salvation validly into question in the public eye? Or will?”
We should all ask the same. Not because any of our sins are as great as slavery, but because any of our sins are still great. Let us ask ourselves, “What is it I’m being duplicitous about?”
Maybe it’s simply that we are fond of pointing out the disrepute of the heroes of others but never our own. Maybe it’s because we think the worst sinners are found outside our own circles. “Let anyone who thinks that he stands take heed lest he fall” (1 Cor. 10:12).
Let us be as clear-eyed about any of the ways we ourselves may bring into disrepute what we intellectually affirm.
Was George Whitefield a Christian?
To the million dollar question at hand: How can anyone believe George Whitefield was a genuine believer?
First, I have no complaints with those who cannot believe he was. Because my faith does not rest on George Whitefield’s eternal state, I can honestly and sincerely see how so many simply cannot answer this question favorably. I especially understand not just how my African-American brothers and sisters cannot answer in the affirmative, but also how they cannot abide white evangelical “whitewashing” his legacy. I cannot feel what they feel, but I can understand why they feel it. I have no interest in diminishing that or chastising that.
A good tree does not produce bad fruit, after all. As far as we can tell, Whitefield never repudiated his sin, never repented of it. That alone brings the genuineness of his faith into question in many of our churches today. Why should Whitefield get a pass from the same scrutiny? If he held his same views as a member of your church, would he not face discipline? I affirm the rationale of those who answer the question of Whitefield’s salvation “no,” and I affirm their freedom to do so. I see how you get there. I respect the conclusion. I will not argue it.
For my part, however, I want to “believe all things, hope all things.” Why? Because George Whitefield was a great preacher and left many contributions that stir my heart toward Jesus above all? No. Because I do not presume to know the eternal fate of anyone who professed Christ crucified as their only hope for salvation. I have my doubts and questions and concerns. If I were Whitefield’s pastor today, I would plead with him to repent as I would any professing Christian living a life that brings their profession into question. And if he were unwilling, I would recommend my congregation to remove him. This is what the church has been tasked to do.
