| The name of David Brainerd, like that of Robert M 'Cheyne and Henry
Martyn, lingers in the memory of the Church with a haunting sweetness. His
life was brief, but the influence of his devoted spirit is felt to this
day, moving men to a noble self-forgetting. In the great story of Revival
his place is assured. Answering the question, "What can be done in
order to revive the work of God where it is decayed?" John Wesley replied,
"Let every preacher read carefully over the life of David Brainerd."
He was born in 1718 near Hartford, Conn., and was early orphaned. He inherited
a constitutional weakness, and the seeds of consumption were early sown
in his feeble frame. Through out his life he fought a losing battle with
this terrible physical foe. But his story is like that of Turner of Peterhead,
and shows how weakness itself, linked by faith to the power of God, can
triumph gloriously.
Before he entered the life of faith he wandered long in the dreary desert
of legalism. But, one day, he tells us, as he walked in a thick, dark grove,
unspeakable glory opened to his view. In that one moment of vision he learned
more than in all the laborious years of the past. He saw that God' s will
is the one fount of undefiled peace and joy. To do that will at any cost
became the passion of his life.
He was trained at Yale College, and in 1742 he was licensed to preach the
Gospel. At first his desire had been to evangelise the heathen abroad, but
his eyes were now open to the need of the poor Indians of his own land.
Miserably debased by the white man's vices, and despised as an inferior
creation, he saw in them souls for whom Christ had died, a field ready to
harvest. Eagerly he accepted the appointment of the Scottish Society for
Promoting Christian Knowledge to labour as their missionary amongst the
Indians.
He had little success in his first setting out. His station was at Kaunaumeek,
in New York Province, "a most lonesome wilderness," where he lodged
on a heap of straw. The Indians were indifferent or suspicious, while the
white settlers bitterly resented his presence. His health began to decline
rapidly, and after a year of unremitting toil and hardship, he was forced
to retire from the field.
He was soon invited to the pastorate of several New England churches. The
temptation to settle in East Hampton was especially great. Here, in a lovely
country, amid a wealthy and kindly people, he might recover his strength,
and spend happy and useful days. The tender tie of a pure affection for
the daughter of Jonathan Edwards also constrained him to stay. His experience
at Kaunaumeek had clearly shown him that the Indian wilderness held for
him certain and speedy death, and what fruit had he to show for his labour?
Surely then in this sweet clime, where health and love and delightful service
awaited him, he should cast his lot. But as Brainerd hesitated, hesitated
literally between life and death, he heard from the far off woods a pathetic
cry. It was the wail of "his poor Indians." No man cared for their
souls! They, too, were calling him, and, turning from the white church,
taking his life in his hands, he set out again for the Indian wigwams. This
was the decisive moment in his life. Had he settled amongst the good folk
of East Hampton, he would in all probability have regained his health and
discharged a faithful ministry. But we should never then have heard of David
Brainerd. He deliberately cut short his days, but in the brief remnant of
life that remained to him, he accomplished a glorious work and unlocked
a spring of heroic inspiration for generations to come. He made the uttermost
sacrifice, and God gave him the uttermost reward. Henceforward his journal
is the record of constant journeyings amongst his poor Indians, covering
more than 3000 miles, through pathless forests, over dark, dangerous mountains,
in fierce rains and freezing cold. His body was reduced to a pitiable state
of extreme weakness. But as his strength ebbed his compassion grew, grew
till it became a great hunger that would not be denied. Whole nights were
spent in agonising prayer in the dark woods, his clothes drenched with the
sweat of his travail.
Just at this point, on the very eve of Revival, he felt a strange straitening.
God seemed to desert him. His message began to halt. Like John Livingston
at Shotts, before the great outpouring, he was made to feel that he was
indeed but a man, that the blessing must come from above. When Brainerd,
in utter humility, acquiesced in this, all was ready for the forthputting
of the mighty power of God.
Suddenly how often must that word be used in the history of Revival! suddenly,
the Spirit was outpoured upon the whole region of the Sus-quehanna. His
first audience there had consisted of four women and a few children. Now
there came streaming in upon him from all sides a host of men and women,
who pressed upon him, and grasping the bridle of his horse, besought him
with intense earnestness to tell them the way of salvation. In a great,
glad wonder he looked upon them, and the text that leaped to his lips was,
"Herein is love."
Men fell at his feet in anguish of soul. These were men who could bear the
most acute torture without flinching. But God' s arrow had now pierced them;
their pain could not be concealed and they cried out in their distress,
"Have mercy upon me." What impressed Brainerd most deeply was
that though these people came to him in a multitude, each one was mourning
apart. The prophecy of Zechariah was fulfilled before his eyes. The woods
were filled with the sound of a great mourning, and beneath the Cross every
man fell as if he and the Saviour God alone were there. Gradually as the
missionary spoke, there came to them, one by one, the peace and comfort
of the Gospel. As the days passed he had full proof that a Heaven-sent Revival
had come. A passion for righteousness possessed the converts. The wretched
victims of the fire-water were delivered, and the Indian camps were cleansed
at once from their physical and moral filthiness. The love of Christ expelled
every unlovely thing. As one poor woman expressed it, "Me to be Him
for all," became the motto of their lives. They became themselves ardent
missionaries of the Cross. The Light spread through all that dark region,
and a strong Indian Church was established.
Brainerd' s work was done. His body, utterly exhausted by his labours, was
quickly mastered by disease. But what mattered that? It had been the means
of a triumphant work of faith. It endured until the Divine Purpose had its
perfect fulfilment, and when in 1747, in the house of Jonathan Edwards,
he breathed his last, he died in an ecstasy of joy. |