Are you an enthusiastic Christian? Do you think you should be? Is it possible to be too enthusiastic? In the history of Christianity, the word “enthusiasm” has a long pedigree. Essentially, it means “intense zeal.” This reminds us of Paul’s wise words in Galatians 4.18, “It is good to be zealously affected always in a good thing.”1 He also warned against misguided zeal in Romans 10.2, censuring Jews who “have a zeal of God, but not according to knowledge.” Times of revival have spawned “enthusiasts” who have claimed special revelations from the Holy Spirit and attempted to justify all kinds of bizarre behavior on religious grounds, like some Pentecostals and charismatics today, “holy laughter” being one of the more embarrassing manifestations.2
THE STORY OF BILLY BRAY
Billy Bray (1794-1868) seems a premier example of one who was enthusiastic in the good sense without the heretical claims and bizarre excesses. Though not widely known today, his life remains a potentially profitable study.3
Billy Bray was born in Cornwall, England. He grew up as an uneducated person and went to work in the coal mines. He led a vile life, falling into a pattern of that age’s common vices, especially drunkenness, probably widespread among poor, ignorant miners. He came to realize he was a great sinner and dreaded that he would never find mercy with the Lord. Providentially a book fell into his hands that was to change his life forever; it was about heaven and hell.4 A biblical text which gripped him in those days was Matt 7.7-11. He testifies what it meant to him then.
I said to the Lord, “Thou hast said, They that ask shall receive, they that seek shall find, and to them that knock the door shall be opened, and I have faith to believe it.” In an instant the Lord made me so happy that I cannot express what I felt. I shouted for joy. I praised God with my whole heart for what he had done for a poor sinner like me: for I could say, the Lord hath pardoned all my sins. I think this was in November, 1823 [he would have been around 29 then], but what day of the month I do not know. I remember this, that everything looked new to me; the people, the fields, the cattle, the trees. I was like a man in a new world. I spent the greater part of my time in praising the Lord. . . . I was a new man altogether. I told all I met what the Lord had done for my soul. I have heard some say that they have hard work to get away from their companions, but I had hard work to find them soon enough to tell them what the Lord had done for me. Some said I was mad; and others that they should get me back again next pay-day. But, praise the Lord, it is no more than forty years ago, and they have not got me yet. They said I was a mad-man, but they meant I was a glad man, and, glory be to God! I have been glad ever since.
He experienced a dramatic, powerful Christian conversion. The divinely-wrought change in him was nearly instant, radical, and it soon became very public. His persona from then on was one of joyful zeal to preach the gospel and to promote vital Christian piety in very practical ways, especially by the construction of chapels throughout the countryside.
From the beginning of his new life in Christ, Billy Bray was characterized by almost constant physical expressions of his enthusiasm. Spurgeon wryly observes that Billy was “more than sufficiently conspicuous in his shouting and leaping for joy.” Even in his mining work, his elevated spirit was intense; he claimed he could leap and dance for joy underground as well as on the surface. “I can’t help praising God,” he said. “As I go along the street I lift one foot and it seems to say, ‘Glory!’ and I lift the other, and it seems to say, ‘Amen!’ And they keep on like that all the time I’m walking.”
Billy was earnest in seeking the conversion of others. He prayed for their salvation and spoke openly of his faith to them, calling them to repentance. He took Cornwall by storm. On meeting strangers, Billy would inquire about their souls, and he would shout “Glory!” whenever he heard of anyone being saved. Sometimes he would pick people up and spin them around the room.
When he was about thirty, he began to preach publicly and being found very useful in the conversion of many souls, he was recognized by his local denomination which was so-called “Bible Christians,” a branch of Methodism. His preaching method was very simple and homely. He did not so much expound biblical passages as relate personal anecdotes, cite the words of moving hymns, and weave biblical concepts and language into talk about spiritual things. Whenever people heard he was to preach they flocked to hear him.
Once Billy Bray went down into the mine, shortly after his remarkable conversion, when an old companion gave him a stinging blow on the cheek. “Take that,” he said, “for turning Methodist.” In former times such an insult would never have been attempted, for the whole country knew that Billy Bray was an inveterate pugilist. All the answer that he gave, however, was, “The Lord forgive thee, lad, as I do, and bring thee to a better mind; I’ll pray for thee.” Three or four days after, his assailant came to him under the deepest conviction of sin and asked his forgiveness.
I remember a story about a certain preacher exhorting poor coal miners to be saved, and it may well have been a little snippet from Billy Bray’s life and ministry. It was reported that as those white men with coal-blackened faces emerged from the mine and listened to his exhortations before returning home, they found their hard hearts beginning to soften by the powerful operation of the Holy Spirit through the preached Word, white streaks began to appear upon their cheeks, made by copious flowing tears. Whether this survives from Bray’s own story or not, he probably was part of such a scene many times.
One illustration that has survived from his preaching helps us understand its simplicity. In his neighborhood there were two mines, one very prosperous and the other quite the reverse, for the work was hard and the wages low. In his sermon he represented himself as working at that mine all week long, but on payday going to the prosperous mine for his wages. The manager asked if he hadn’t been working at the other mine, which he admitted, but said he liked the pay at this mine better. No matter how much he pleaded for the big paycheck, he was denied, and told, “You must work at this mine if you expect our wages.” Then Billy Bray would turn to his congregation and tell them they must serve Christ here if they would share his glory hereafter, but if they kept serving the devil here, then he will be the one to give them their wages. Whatever fault may be found with this simple analogy, it made the point powerfully with his own audiences, often subduing their hearts for the Lord.
His preaching, though homespun, was so warm and touching that even refined people would listen carefully and overlook his many faults and improper speaking. While grammar and diction and the arts of rhetoric are not insignificant, the Lord has often used men on fire with simple gospel truth for the great good of many, even when they have been relatively unlettered (cf. Amos 7.14-15; John 7.15; Acts 4.13). American evangelist D. L. Moody (1837-1899) was another example of this, and to this day there are countless humble preachers in rural areas doing a good work with what we might call “slender mental and literary apparatus.” Spurgeon pleads that we should accept such as they are:
We would not have a shrewd saying decried because it is ungrammatical; nor a fervent, spiritual utterance ridiculed because it is roughly expressed. Consider the man as he is; make allowances for educational disadvantages, for circumstances, and for companionships, and do not turn away with contempt from that which, in the sight of God, may be infinitely more precious than all the refinements and delicacies so dear to pompous imbecility.
No one could say it like Spurgeon! Appreciating his vast learning may help us sympathize with his point of view.
Billy Bray’s religion was not all shouting; it had an eminently practical turn in many directions. He took orphans into his home (remember Jas 1.27). He fasted Saturday afternoon till Sunday night each week (consider Matt 6.16; 9.15; 1 Cor 7.5; 2 Cor 11.27). When pressed to eat, he would say, “On Sunday I get my breakfast and dinner from the King’s table, two good meals, too!”
Billy Bray was quite a mighty chapel builder. He got into this ministry in the first place by receiving a piece of property from his mother, which he cleared with his own hands, and then proceeded to dig out the foundations of a chapel which was to be called Bethel (“house of God”). Under great discouragements, both from friends and foes, mostly, however, from the first, he actually built the place, working at it himself, and at the same time begging stone, begging timber, and begging money to pay the workmen. His little all he gave, and moved all around, who had anything to spare, to give likewise. Onlookers thought him to be silly, and called him so; but, as he well remarked, “Wise men could not have preached in the chapel if silly Billy had not built it.” Almost as soon as one building was finished, he was moved to commence another. It was much needed, and many talked about it, but nobody had the heart to begin it but Billy Bray. He begged the land, borrowed a horse and cart of the giver; and then after doing his own hard day’s work underground in the pit, and providing for five small children, he and his son worked at raising stone and building the walls; frequently working twenty hours of the twenty four. He had a hard struggle over this second chapel; but his own account is best.
When our chapel was up about to the door-head, the devil said to me, “They are all gone and left you and the chapel, and I would go and leave the place too.” Then I said, “Devil, doesn’t thee know me better than that; by the help of the Lord I will have the chapel up, or lose my skin on the down.” So the devil said no more to me on that subject. Sometimes I had blisters on my hands, and they have been very sore. But I felt I did not mind that, for if the chapel should stand one hundred years, and if one soul were converted in it every year, that would be a hundred souls, and that would pay me well if I got to heaven, for they that “turn many to righteousness shall shine as the stars for ever and ever.” So I thought I should be rich enough when I got there. The chapel was finished after a time; and the opening day came. We had preaching, but the preacher was a wise man, and a dead man. I believe there was not much good done that day, for it was a very dead time with the preacher and people; for he had a great deal of grammar, and but little of Father. “It is not by might, nor power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord.” Were it by wisdom or might, I should have but a small part, for my might is little and my wisdom less. Thanks be to God, the work is his, and he can work by whomsoever he pleases.
The second Sunday after the chapel was opened I was “planned” there. I said to the people, “You know I did not work here about this chapel in order to fill my pocket, but for the good of the neighbors, and the good of souls; and souls I must have, and souls I will have.” The Lord blessed us in a wonderful manner. Two women cried to the Lord for mercy; and when I saw that I said, “Now the chapel is paid for already.” The good Lord went on to work there; and the society soon went up from fifteen members to thirty. You see how good the Lord is to me; I spoke for one soul a year, and he gave me fifteen souls the first year. Bless and praise his holy name, for he is good, and his mercy endureth for ever, for one soul is worth a thousand worlds. Our little chapel had three windows, one on one side, and two on the other; the old devil, who does not like chapels, put his servants, by way of reproach, to call our chapel “Three-Eyes.” But, blessed be God, since then the chapel has become too small for the place; and it has been enlarged; now there are six windows instead of three; and they may call the chapel “Six-Eyes” if they will. For, glory be to God, many that have been converted there are now in heaven; and, when we get there, we will praise him with all our might; and he shall never hear the last of it.
No sooner was this second house finished, than he began a third and larger one, and in this enterprise his talent for collecting, as well as his zeal in giving and working, were well displayed. He had high—and as we believe proper—ideas of his mission, in gathering in the subscriptions of the Lord’s stewards. “A friend who was with Billy on a begging expedition, suggested, as they were coming near a gentleman’s house, and Billy was evidently making for the front door, that it would be better if they went to the back door. ‘No,’ said Billy, ‘I am the son of a King, and I shall go front-ways.’” “At one time, at a missionary meeting, he seemed quite vexed because there was something said in the report about money received for ‘rags and bones.’ When he rose to address the meeting he said: ‘I don’t think it is right supporting the Lord’s cause with old rags and bones. The Lord deserves the best, and ought to have the best.’” Naturally he was completely justified to think like that.
A few more Billy Bray stories will round out this cameo.
Once Billy was an instrument in the new birth of an educated, ordained, and lifeless minister. On a mountain near his home lived a cluster of non-Christian families. Billy, after working underground all day, would emerge from the mines and set out for the mountain, where he visited door-to-door, evangelizing the families. Soon every inhabitant was converted, and a church house was built. The Church of England sent the so-called “Rev. W. Haslam” to shepherd the families, but when Billy heard the new parson preach, he was upset. Mr. Haslam didn’t seem to know the Gospel. Billy felt the pastor wasn’t truly a Christian himself, and he told him so. Haslam was shaken. The next Sunday as he stood to preach, he announced his text, Matt 22.42: “What think ye of Christ?” During his message, he began trusting Christ as Savior. Here is Mr. Haslam’s own testimony:
As I went on to explain the passage, I saw that the Pharisees and scribes did not know that Christ was the Son of God, or that he was come to save them. They were looking for a king, the son of David, to reign over them as they were. Something was telling me, all the time, “You are no better than the Pharisees yourself—you do not believe that he is the Son of God, and that he is come to save you, any more than they did.” I do not remember all I said, but I felt a wonderful light and joy coming into my soul, and I was beginning to see what the Pharisees did not. Whether it was something in my words, or my manner, or my look, I know not; but all of a sudden a local preacher, who happened to be in the congregation, stood up, and putting up his arms, shouted out in Cornish manner, “The parson is converted! the parson is converted! Hallelujah!” and in another moment his voice was lost in the shouts and praises of three or four hundred of the congregation. Instead of rebuking this extraordinary “brawling,” as I should have done in a former time, I joined in the outburst of praise; and to make it more orderly, I gave out the Doxology—“Praise God, from whom all blessings flow”—and the people sang it with heart and voice over and over again. When this subsided, I found at least twenty people crying for mercy, whose voices had not been heard in the excitement and noise of thanksgiving. They all professed to find peace and joy in believing. Amongst this number there were three from my own house; and we returned home praising God.”
Mr. Haslam was converted while preaching his own sermon. Billy heard of it and came for a visit. When Haslam came to the door, Billy asked, “Converted, kind sir?” The man said, “Yes, thank God, I am.” Billy was so happy, he threw his arms around him, lifted him up, and carried him around the room shouting, “Glory, glory, the parson’s converted! Glory be to God!” Mrs. Haslam, hearing the commotion, entered the room, and Billy cried, “Be the missus converted?” She replied, “Yes, thank God.” Billy started toward her, but instead of picking her up, he just grinned ear to ear and said, “Oh, I be so happy I can hardly live! Glory! Glory be to God!”
An old man when his wife died, Billy jumped around the room in excitement, shouting, “Bless the Lord! My dear Joey is gone up with the bright ones! Glory! Glory! Glory!” And when his doctor told him he, too, was dying, he shouted, “Glory! Glory to God! I shall soon be in heaven.” Then lowering his voice, he added, “When I get up there, shall I give them your compliments doctor, and tell them you will be coming, too?”
His last word as he fell asleep in Jesus? “Glory!” Once Billy sat beside the deathbed of a friend who had been a reluctant witness for Christ. He insisted to Billy, “If I had the power I’d shout glory to God.” Billy replied, “It’s a pity you didn’t shout glory when you had the power.”
In his book entitled Eccentric Preachers, which includes a chapter devoted to Billy Bray, Spurgeon commented, “It does not seem so very horrible after all that a man should be eccentric.”
LESSONS FROM BILLY BRAY
Now friends, do I relate these things to you so that we all might slavishly imitate this extremely enthusiastic soul? Certainly not! If we all constantly danced up and down the sidewalk shouting like Billy Bray and pigeon-holing every stranger we met with the question, “Are you born again?,” the cause of Christ in the world could suffer. There was only one Billy Bray, and he’s dead. The only Exemplar all Christians should strive to imitate is our Lord Jesus Christ.
However, I have been deeply challenged about some aspects of Billy’s thought and life, and I believe most of us can learn much from him, especially in the realm of Christian service.
It seems patently obvious to me that Billy Bray was our true brother in the Lord, and one who maintained a close walk with Christ. He never wrote a systematic theology, nor could he have done so, but this was evidently a man with intimate knowledge of God and his ways. Even if we possess advanced seminary degrees, we should soberly assess whether the same is true of us. As J. I. Packer observed,
Knowing God is a matter of personal dealing, as is all direct acquaintance with personal beings. Knowing God is more than knowing about him; it is a matter of dealing with him as he opens up to you, and being dealt with by him as he takes knowledge of you. Knowing about him is a necessary precondition of trusting in him (“how could they have faith in one they had never heard of?” [Rom 10:14 NEB]), but the width of our knowledge about him is no gauge of the depth of our knowledge of him.
John Owen and John Calvin knew more theology than John Bunyan or Billy Bray, but who would deny that the latter pair knew their God every bit as well as the former? (All four, of course, were beavers for the Bible, which counts for far more anyway than a formal theological training.) If the decisive factor was notional correctness, then obviously the most learned biblical scholars would know God better than anyone else. But it is not; you can have all the right notions in your head without ever tasting in your heart the realities to which they refer; and a simple Bible reader and sermon hearer who is full of the Holy Spirit will develop a far deeper acquaintance with his God and Savior than a more learned scholar who is content with being theologically correct. The reason is that the former will deal with God regarding the practical application of truth to his life, whereas the latter will not.
Another outstanding trait of Billy Bray was his spiritual joy. Oh, that we were more characterized by this like he was! As he bubbled over with love to his fellow man and showed a happiness that was manifestly not explainable on merely human or psychological grounds, Billy commended his religion to the popular judgment.
Christian joy is our moral responsibility. “Rejoice in the Lord alway: and again I say, Rejoice” (Phil 4.4). You might say, “I’m just not like that.” Neither is anyone else by nature. True, spiritual joy is not a matter of human personality but of divine grace. “The fruit of the Spirit is . . . joy” (Gal 5.22). Don’t confuse sober-mindedness with being a sourpuss. New England Christians are known as “the frozen chosen,” and there may even be some justification for it. Spurgeon once gave this advice to his very serious fellow preachers. “When you speak of Heaven,” he said, “let your face light up, let it be irradiated with a heavenly gleam, let your eyes shine with reflected glory. But when you speak of Hell—well, then your ordinary face will do.” For many of us, it’s a pity our “ordinary face” is so rarely smiling.
Billy Bray also exemplified an admirable evangelistic zeal. He knew no man any longer after the flesh but rather as a soul headed toward an irrevocable eternity. Richard Baxter was similarly a man obsessed with other people’s destinies, and exhorted,
If by faith we did indeed look upon [the unconverted] as within a step of hell, it would more effectually untie our tongues, than Croesus’ danger5, as they tell us, did his son’s. He that will let a sinner go down to hell for want of speaking to him, does set less by souls than did the Redeemer of souls; and less by his neighbor, than common charity will allow him to do by his greatest enemy. O, therefore, brethren, whomsoever you neglect, neglect not the most miserable! Whatever you pass over, forget not poor souls that are under the condemnation and curse of the law, and who may look every hour for the infernal execution, if a speedy change does not prevent it. O call after the impenitent and ply this great work of converting souls, whatever else you leave undone.6
Notice also Billy Bray’s enterprising and gritty determination to advance God’s kingdom. He did not sit around idly daydreaming what might be done if he could only acquire a great fortune or enlist a vast army of Christian helpers. His paucity of resources—educational, social, financial—proved no real obstacle. He began with the little he had at hand, and prayerfully applied himself with all his might to do what he could. People laughed at first, but his zeal provoked many to give and to work, and eventually the chapels popped up in various communities as houses of worship. We should probably blush for how little we accomplish with far greater opportunities at our disposal.
Johnny Farese is a godly Christian man of Reformed Baptist persuasion and a quadriplegic who has for years done much as a servant of Christ.7 He makes a living for himself and fosters inter-church fellowship via the internet by a specially-designed computer that responds to his voice commands. One of his pastors told me Johnny often asks, “What can I do to help you, Pastor? Please give me something to do!” Johnny’s tagline challenges me: “I am only one, but I am one. I cannot do everything, but I can do something. And because I cannot do everything, I will not refuse to do the something that I can do. What I can do, I should do. And what I should do, by the grace of God, I will do.”
Few men in the history of the church can vie with Billy Bray for the title of “Enthusiastic Christian.” May his story inspire us to seek the same graces he possessed for the glory of God and the good of others. Amen.
Notes
1. HCSB: “It is always good to be enthusiastic about good.”
2. Associated with “the Toronto Blessing” which began in early 1994 in the “Airport Vineyard Church,” described by one writer thusly: “Soon a woman begins laughing. Others gradually join with hearty belly laughs. A young worshipper falls to the floor, hands twitching. Another falls, then another and another. Within half an hour there are bodies everywhere as supplicants sob, shake, roar like lions, and, strangest of all, laugh uncontrollably” (cited in Trinity Journal XVII.2 p. 168).
3. I am borrowing heavily, sometimes verbatim, from source materials listed in the concluding bibliography.
4. Some sources say it was a treatise entitled “Visions of Heaven and Hell” by John Bunyan, but my research discovered that since no extant work of Bunyan’s seems to fit the profile, it was probably The World to Come; The Glories of Heaven and the Terrors of Hell by George Larkin (1711), of a manifestly inferior style and substance compared to Bunyan’s works, yet it apparently helped Billy Bray.
5. Croesus (595 B.C. – 547 B.C.) was the rich king of Lydia who cried out when he was nearly burned at the stake and was consequently delivered (Herodotus’ Histories).
6. The Reformed Pastor (1656).
7. www.farese.com
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Bibliography
1000 Illustrations for Preaching and Teaching (1986), “Glory to God,” Broadman Press.
Eccentric Preachers, “Billy Bray, the Uneducated Soul-Winner,” C. H. Spurgeon.
Heritage of Great Evangelical Teaching (1997).
The King’s Son; or a Memoir of Billy Bray (1871), F. W. Bourne. Over a half million copies sold.
Knowing God, “Knowing and Being Known,” J. I. Packer.
Metropolitan Tabernacle Pulpit, Vol. 26, “Divine Surprises” (#1538), C. H. Spurgeon,
Nelson’s Complete Book of Stories, Illustrations, and Quotes (2000), “Converted by His Own Sermon.”
On This Day: 365 Amazing and Inspiring Stories about Saints, Martyrs & Heroes (1997), R. Morgan.
Who’s Who in Christian History (1992), Douglas, Comfort, and Mitchell.
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