Pastor Glenn McDonald: Serving the Least, the Last, and the Lost

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Each day this Lent we’re looking at major “turning points” in Christian history – moments or seasons in which the story of God’s people took an important and often unexpected turn.  

By all accounts, William Wilberforce wasn’t much to look at. He had been a small, sickly child and lacked physical stamina his entire life. But when a cadre of reform-minded Christians needed a champion to lead the fight against slavery in the 18th century, Wilberforce became an unstoppable force.

Two hundred years ago, the economies of most affluent Western nations were heavily dependent on that “peculiar institution.” The sugar in British tea and the cotton shirts on American backs could be traced directly to slave labor.

Even though a number of pastors routinely proclaimed God’s blessing on the practice of bringing Africans to the New World against their will, a consensus gradually emerged that slavery and its associated injustices could not possibly be compatible with following Jesus.

In America, it took four years of civil war and more than 600,000 casualties to settle the issue.

In Britain, it took 46 years of wrangling and politicking in Parliament. And that required William Wilberforce.

The only son of a wealthy merchant, he was 25 years old when he experienced a spiritual awakening. The timing seemed especially inconvenient. He had just been elected to a prestigious seat in Parliament. Should he turn away from the rough and tumble world of high stakes politics so he could devote the rest of his life to philanthropy and social reform?

Wilberforce sought the counsel of John Newton, a pastor who, to put it bluntly, had some personal insight into the greatest social issue of the day.

Four decades earlier, Newton had been the captain of a slave ship. On May 10, 1748, the Greyhound had been caught in a violent storm off the coast of Ireland. As wave after wave broke over the decks, the 23-year-old Newton screamed into the wind, “God, have mercy!” 

This was decidedly new behavior for Newton, who freely acknowledged he had no serious spiritual convictions. When the storm began to die down, Newton concluded his prayers had been heard. He decided to devote his life to God. 

Newton’s conscience, unfortunately, remained untroubled by his human cargo for nearly seven years. As his faith moved from his head to his heart, he resolved to leave the trade. Years later he would write, “I was once an active instrument in a business at which my heart now shudders.”

At first he was rejected for ordination in the Anglican Church because of his disgraceful past.

In 1764 he was finally granted permission to enter the ministry, in which he served for 43 years. By the time Wilberforce dropped by for a heart-to-heart, he had become one of England’s fiercest opponents of the slave trade. 

He urged the young parliamentarian not to abandon his post, because God needs people in the public square. Maybe he could even introduce a bill to abolish the slave trade. Wilberforce did just that in 1787.

But the slave traders and their economic partners were far more deeply entrenched than he imagined. Months of hard work turned into years of futility.

Wilberforce was blessed with a team of allies, however, a group of Christian activists known as the Clapham Sect, named for the village south of London where he lived. In this context, the word “sect” refers to a small group of friends, not a breakaway religious group. Historian Stephen Tomkins describes them as "a network of friends and families in England, with William Wilberforce as its center of gravity, who were powerfully bound together by their shared moral and spiritual values, by their religious mission and social activism, [and] by their love for each other…" The Clapham circle accomplished amazing things.

Aside from their tireless efforts to eradicate slavery, they helped establish the British colony of Sierra Leone – a refuge for repatriated Africans – and advocated for London’s forgotten poor. Wilberforce even helped launch the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

In the words of the 20th century social anthropologist Margaret Mead, “Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has.”

In 1807, after 20 years of abolitionist campaigning, Parliament passed the Slave Trade Act, outlawing the transportation of human beings for the purpose of slavery.

Work remained to be done, of course. Slavery itself was not abolished. The slaves were still not free. Both those things finally happened in August 1833. Wilberforce died just one month earlier, secure in the knowledge that his lifetime of labor had not been in vain.

From Christianity’s earliest days, the impulse to intercede on behalf of “the least, the last, and the lost” had been at the center of the faith.

Such practical expressions of love sprang from Matthew 25:36, 40, where Jesus says, “I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me…Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

Nothing in pagan antiquity rivaled such compassion. The greatest ethicists of classical Greece and Rome may have urged acts of love for friends and family. But they saw no reason to take care of total strangers. And it went without saying that love for enemies was absurd.

When the fourth century Roman emperor Julian attempted to restore the supremacy of paganism, he was exasperated by the noteworthy compassion of the followers of Jesus. “The impious Galileans [that is, Christians] support not only their poor, but ours as well. Everyone can see that our people lack aid from us.”

Philosopher Mark Nelson concludes, “If you ask what is Jesus’ influence on medicine and compassion, I would suggest that wherever you have an institution of self-giving for the lonely (and for practical welfare of the lonely), schools, hospitals, hospices, orphanages for those who will never be able to repay, this probably has its roots in the movement of Jesus.”

The 19th century became a major turning point in the scope and effectiveness of Christian social action. Elizabeth Fry (1780-1845) initiated a revolution of prison reform. William and Catherine Booth (1829-1912) confronted London’s poverty and hopelessness (as well as an apathetic church) through the Salvation Army. Lord Shaftesbury (1801-1885) used his 50-year-career in Parliament to help bring an end to child labor, and introduced radical reform to the treatment of mental patients.

And John Newton? He finished his race on earth in 1807, the same year Parliament formally abolished the slave trade.

The most enduring legacy of the former ship captain, however, were the hymns he wrote for his congregation.

In 1773 he penned the words and melody to a song that is still sung an estimated 10 million times a year. It goes like this:

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me.

I once was lost but now I’m found, was blind but now I see.

Because of the amazing commitment of some amazing Christ-followers, the rest of the world has been stunningly blessed by amazing grace.

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