Michael Morgan serves as Academic Dean for William Tennent School of Theology. He enjoys books and coffee, camping in the mountains with his wife and three amazing teenagers, has been deeply influenced by the Puritans and the Clapham Sect, and loves teaching about the majesty of Jesus and mobilizing leaders for kingdom impact. The following post is an excerpt of his book, John Newton: Catalyst for Compassion.
When a pastor scans the horizon, the scene is overwhelming: At this very moment, there are 40.3 million people who are victims of the modern day slave trade. According to the U.S. Department of State, there are an estimated 600,000-800,000 men, women, and children trafficked across international borders annually, with over a million children being exploited in the global commercial sex trade. In America, even with abortion rates lower now than at anytime in the past forty years, 860,000 babies are still being aborted annually, or roughly 2,350 every day. Among other travesties in the past decade, Yemen has taken a page from Boko Haram in Nigeria, and The Lord’s Resistance Army in Uganda, with no fewer than “842 verified cases” of recruiting child soldiers to do their bidding, sometimes no more than eleven years old. The LRA, of course, for thirty years, forced tens of thousands of boys and girls into combat, often killing family, neighbors, and school teachers in the process. They put these children on the front lines because they are easy to replace by raiding schools or villages.
The Psalmist asks, “Who rises up for me against the wicked? Who stands up for me against evildoers?” Any pastor with a compassionate heart and a desire to make a difference will wonder from time to time if what he is doing is really worthwhile. The problems seem too big, his resources too little, and his influence too meager. People in church argue about carpet colors while little girls are being kidnapped. Maybe he should just quit his job and go do something that matters. Or maybe he should readjust his priorities and spend the bulk of his time volunteering at the shelter for battered women or the local rescue mission.
Yet, if one can learn anything from John Newton, it is this: a pastor can have a far greater impact on issues of justice and compassion by being faithful in his post than by leaving his station to tackle any one particular injustice. One would be hard-pressed to name any person in all of history (aside from Jesus!) who accomplished more for the sake of the oppressed and downtrodden than William Wilberforce. Yet Wilberforce was only one of many men and women that John Newton loved, taught, and empowered in the regular course of his pastoral ministry. It would be wise for all pastors to stew on that; perhaps we should not be so quick to (a) throw up our hands in despair, (b) redefine our role, or (c) quit our jobs to pursue something “worthwhile.”
John Newton: Catalyst for Compassion
As his legacy attests, John Newton was a man forever amazed by grace. Arguably, his greatest impact was achieved through the cast of friendships that he developed and sustained. His joy in Christ overflowed and enriched his friendships with luminaries such as Charles Simeon, William Carey, William Cowper, William Wilberforce, and many others. In turn, this network of friends would lead the charge in an amazing array of social reforms. This biography considers Newton’s pastoral approach to justice and the power of friendship to change the world.
(Acoma Press, 2019)
In the stream of the Puritans before him, John Newton viewed the twin callings of Acts 6:4—prayer and preaching—as the two clear priorities of a pastor. Speaking for many in the Puritan stream from which Newton drank deeply, Charles Bridges once wrote:
Prayer is one half of our Ministry; and it gives to the other half all its power and success. It is the appointed medium of receiving spiritual communications for the instruction of our people. Those who walk most closely with God are most spiritually intelligent in “the secret of his covenant.” Many can set their seal to Luther’s testimony, that he often obtained more knowledge in a short time by prayer, than by many hours of laborious and accurate study. It will also strengthen our habitual engagedness of our hearts in our work, and our natural exercises and capacities for it. Living near to the fountain-head of influence, we shall be in the constant receipt of fresh supplies of light, support, and consolation—to assist us in our duties, to enable us for our difficulties, and to assure us of our present acceptance, and a suitable measure of ultimate success.
At Olney, Newton had thriving prayer meetings several times a week, and counted those who prayed for him as his dearest friends. The Tuesday evening prayer meeting had to be moved to a room that would hold 130 people, every Sunday morning forty to fifty prayed for Newton before he preached, and Sunday nights he gathered people to sing and pray. Moreover, he spent daily time in the Word and prayer, often recording his prayers in his journal. Preaching was not far behind. It could be argued that while prayer was one half of Newton’s ministry, preaching was the other. In addition to Sunday mornings, Newton preached to packed crowds during midweek services throughout his tenure at St. Mary Woolnoth in London. Frankly, his preaching load would make most pastors today blush in embarrassment.
In a letter to a divinity student, Newton’s understanding of this twofold calling of a pastor shines through:
The chief means for attaining wisdom, and suitable gifts for the ministry, are the holy Scriptures, and prayer. The one is the fountain of living water, the other the bucket with which we are to draw. And I believe you will find, by observation, that the man who is most frequent and fervent in prayer, and most devoted to the word of God, will shine and flourish above his fellows.
It would be a mistake to conclude, after reading about Newton’s amazing impact in helping the poor, needy, and oppressed, that pastors should therefore rearrange their calendars or leave the pastorate altogether in order to follow in his steps. Quite the opposite would be true. Newton never left his primary calling as a pastor to effect change. Marylynn Rouse, Director of the John Newton Project, points out, “His chief way of working with people was to point them to the Lord Jesus Christ, the Fountain Head, for their direction.”
What better way to do that than to consistently pray for, pray with, and model prayer before those whom we hope to influence? Is there a better way to accomplish that goal than to faithfully and powerfully proclaim, week after week, the riches of God’s grace in Jesus Christ? For every pastor who hopes and longs to follow in Newton’s footsteps, prayer and the proclamation of the Word must remain central. It only makes sense.
If the church is to be a city on a hill, a beacon in a dark world, where others may see our good works and glorify our Father in heaven, then the pastor as preacher fulfills a unique and strategic role within the Body of Christ that he should never abdicate. It does not necessarily require any essential change in his preaching, nor does it require special worship services to bring attention to certain injustices. That may be the case; there could be times when a pastor should utilize a special occasion to call for a compassionate response to a particular need. Newton repeatedly did this. Yet in truth, a regular practice of systematic exposition of the Word provides ample opportunity for a pastor to serve as the prophetic voice for God’s people. How is it possible to preach through Proverbs, Amos, Luke, or Acts, and not deal with issues of justice and compassion?
Contrary to many popular opinions today, Newton would remind us that preaching is not wasted effort, or an ineffective use of our time. Rather, the call to preach and pray is a gift that should be treasured, and has the potential to shake nations. It would take a dull student of history to deny that it shook England in Newton’s day.