Women We Should Know and Honor: Selina Hastings, Countess of Huntingdon

All right. Well, welcome, team. It's great to have you. This is what a fun inaugural experience.

What a beautiful space. We're really grateful. I'm not quite sure how this is going to unfold.

This is kind of experimental. The first service is going on. It usually goes on for about an hour or so.

So I'm not going to speak at you for an hour. I promise you that.

We'll just cover some material and then we can ask questions and then discuss some things.

But if you need to get up, if you need to spread around, do whatever you need to do to stay comfortable.

And remember, there's probably going to be another service after this, so I don't want to compromise that.

So if you need to get up and you need to walk around, that won't bother me in the slightest.

Do whatever you need to do to stay comfortable.

And I thought we might begin by singing one of those hymns we've passed out.

Which one did we pick, Elizabeth?

Come Thou Fount.

Okay. Come Thou Fount. I think I know that one.

Great.

So, all right.

Let's do that.

Come Thou Fount of every blessing.

Tune my heart to sing Thy grace.

Streams of mercy never ceasing.

Call for songs of loudest praise.

Teach me some melodious sonnet.

Sung by flaming tongues above.

Praise the name I've fixed upon it.

Name of the redeeming love.

The next one.

Is there another verse?

Yeah.

I just don't know which one it is.

God has blessed me.

God has brought me to this place.

And I know by Thy name.

Me safely home by Thy good grace.

Jesus sought me when a stranger.

Wandering from the fold of God.

He to rescue me from danger.

Interposed His precious blood.

O to grace.

O to grace.

O to grace.

How great a debtor.

Daily I'm constrained to be.

Let Thy goodness like a fetter.

Bind my wandering heart to Thee.

Prone to wander.

Prone to wander.

Prone to wander.

Lord, I feel it.

Prone to leave the God I love.

Here's my heart, Lord.

Take and seal it.

Seal it for Thy courts above.

Love.

Love.

Wonderful.

Thank you.

Let's pray.

Father, we are.

We stand and wonder at the wonderful fount of blessing that you in your Trinitarian self are for your people.

How you, Father, have loved us with an everlasting love.

How you, Son, have purchased our redemption at the cost of your own blood.

And how you, Spirit, have opened our eyes and convicted us of our need for a Savior.

And then made that Savior, Christ, beautiful in our sight.

That we might rejoice in Him in that great salvation.

So, Lord, we ask you by your Spirit to be present among us.

And do that good work of a counselor.

Convicting us of where we need to change and come into conformity with Christ.

And then working that very change in us by your good grace, Lord.

So, thank you for this time and this opportunity and this wonderful facility that we have.

May it be used of you to exalt Christ in so many ways.

That as He is lifted up, you would draw many to yourself.

In Jesus' name we ask it.

Amen.

All right, team.

Well, we are starting a series on women.

What kind of?

Portraits from the family album of our family, the people of God.

And in particular, we are going to look at some women.

Women that we should know and honor.

And I'm going to try to draw some women that maybe, maybe some of you might not even have heard of.

And hopefully bringing out their stories a little bit.

The idea came to me while I was meditating on 1 Corinthians 12, not long ago.

Where Paul, you'll remember there, he talks about how we, as his people, are a body.

And different ones function different ways, an eye, a nose, an ear, what have you.

And he says, now in any typical culture, there are going to be some in the body who, in expressing their gifts and their talent and their roles,

the culture is not going to quite look upon them with equal impressiveness or not valorize that particular thing.

And that's just kind of the way it is.

In Corinth, for example, they thought that impressive were those that were able to use rhetoric and so forth and the others that had other gifts.

Well, that wasn't all that impressive.

And Paul says, oh no, no, no, no, in the body of Christ, what we want to do is recognize the vital importance of every contribution.

And if there's a cultural situation in which some aren't given as much honor or credit or appreciation,

then what we want to do is we want to compensate with that as the people of God.

So looking back, oftentimes it seems as though the women in our midst, who God has greatly used,

get somewhat short shrift in the annals of history and appreciation.

So we want to try to rectify that somewhat, if we can, in this series.

So that's kind of the motivation of this.

Plus, it's just fun.

Everybody loves a good story.

And I'm hoping that we've found some edifying ones.

So that's where we're headed.

In this first profile, we've called the woman whose scarves were all over the land.

Or we might call it Selena's scattered scarves.

So here we go.

The historical context of our drama has been called the age of reason.

An era enamored with the powers of the human mind to make its liberating way in the world.

Liberating above all from the hobbling shackles of revelation and tradition.

So they said.

But in this age, reason had its hearty twin, ridicule, which would probably be the greater menace to the faith.

The solvent of satire bit deeply at the very foundations of Christianity.

And subjected to mockery were not only its tenets, but also its devotees and especially its leaders.

George Whitefield.

There he is.

George Whitefield was among them.

The great preacher of awakening in a spiritually slumbering age.

Dramatic, even theatrical in his bearing, he was an easy target.

Especially his crossed eyes.

There he is.

If you look closely, you'll notice that he had crossed eyes.

People loved to make fun of him for that.

Indeed, remorselessly, he was made the special subject of lampoon in a stage performance.

Doing uproarious rounds in the London theaters.

Wounding to Whitefield and also bolstering the prejudice.

It really did seem a hindrance to the gospel.

But inexplicably, at its height, the play, in mockery of Whitefield, suddenly stopped.

As it turned out, David Garrick, the far-famed and premier Shakespearean actor of his day,

had exerted his singular influence in that thespian world to bring the production to a close.

This, not on his own initiative, but for a dear friend who had asked him to do so.

Who could that have been?

But more than mockery, George Whitefield and his gospel-preaching co-laborers

had to struggle against a prideful prejudice ensconced in the very church from which they sprang.

The Church of England...

There we go.

There's a better picture of Whitefield, I suppose.

There he is preaching.

If it were a video, you'd see how dramatic and thespian he was.

Vital Christianity was at low ebb.

And the typical Church of England vicar was more preoccupied with fox hunting than preaching.

And that was probably a good thing, however, as the preaching done was so terrible,

it was described as mere Mohammedanism, or Islam, without Mohammed.

Just awful, awful preaching.

Morality and decorum was the weekly summons from the pulpit.

And the notion...

Oh, thank you, that's a great idea.

Yes.

A little stifling in here.

It's all the hot air that I...

Morality and decorum was the weekly summons from the pulpit.

And the notion of being born again, proclaimed as a necessity by George Whitefield and his compatriots,

was thought extreme, indeed indecorous, and overzealous enthusiasm.

That's what this born-again stuff was called, damningly called.

That's just enthusiasm.

Indeed, a church bell was struck at the time, minted with this inscription,

Hurrah for the Church of England, and down with enthusiasm.

Well, at first, the efforts of the Gospel Awakeners to rouse the somnolent churchgoers

was politely ignored by the reigning clergy.

But as soon as the Awakening seemed to be making inroads in their parishes,

those in power exerted legal force to restrict and muzzle the enthusiasts.

Venues were denied and meetings were broken up,

while the magistrates would look on indifferently.

But then, quite unexpectedly, the King of England himself interposed his royal will

that such religious persecution desist in his realm.

Ah, that's a...

Yeah, that's helpful too, definitely.

Definitely.

It seems that someone had reached the King's ear and prompted his protective decree.

Well, as we shall discover, the very one who could move the levers of the London Theatre

could also sway the royal court,

and did not hesitate to do so for the sake of the Gospel.

And here she is.

Whoops, there it is.

No, no, go ahead.

Go ahead.

Whatever you can do to help us out.

Selina was born August 24th, 1707.

We're not quite sure where, as the family had several homes,

but likely the imposing mansion at Staunton Herald, there it is,

was...

That was the seat of the Shirley family, an illustrious family.

Here, that's...

Let me show you what it is today.

There it is.

You can see a little bit better.

That's where she was born.

Staunton Herald.

They were an illustrious family,

in whose blood that of emperors, kings, and queens mingled profusely.

She was the second of three girls,

and it would seem sheltered luxury would be her lot.

But when she was nine years old,

her eye was arrested by a funeral procession

bearing a small coffin of a girl no older than she.

Transfixed, she followed the cortege to the burial ground,

and from that day would often visit the grave.

It marked the beginning of a seriousness about life

in the light of impending death.

And this would mark her all of her days,

that little experience as a nine-year-old girl.

Knowing that frivolity was a dominating feature

of much of the English aristocracy,

and that she would marry within that society,

young Selina often uttered the prayer

that she would marry into a serious family.

And God granted this desire in husband Theophilus,

the ninth Earl of Huntington,

also, and in fact, even more so of a family of royal descent.

Well, for all their seriousness,

they seem to have had quite a happy time together.

Here is their family.

There is Selina.

There's Theophilus.

And there are two.

There would be more children,

but those were the ones that were alive

when the painter painted this image of them.

But marriage did not extinguish the serious streak

which expressed itself in the young countess

in a busyness in doing good,

especially by way of benefactress to the poor.

She was the frequent visitor to the cottages on her estate

and never failed to meet any need with abundant charity.

Her tenants came to refer to her as Lady Bountiful,

and the sound of her approaching coach

gathered a little posse of hopeful children

for the handouts, whatever they would be.

She became vastly admired for her reputation as a Christian lady,

and that accompanied her in the high praise

of her very high-born neighbors and peers.

Well, this proved gratifying to the countess,

but somehow not satisfying.

Looking back, she would later discern that,

quote,

I was going about to establish my own righteousness.

She had the praise and applause of her peers,

but what about God?

What would win his favor?

Anxiously, Selena redoubled her efforts,

hoping she might feel satisfied,

that God was satisfied.

But this resting peace tantalizingly eluded her.

Her health broke in the strain,

indeed completely,

to the point that she feared she was at death's door.

Her illness had brought her benevolence to a halt,

but with it, her sense of worthiness.

Couldn't do any more good things,

didn't feel worthy anymore.

This compounded her terror.

But in the gracious providence of God,

her peaceless anguish perfectly prepared her

to hear with wonder

the ecstatic, breathless testimony

of her sister-in-law, Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

Margaret.

But then, upon the ashes of these vain hopes,

had set forth a perfect and availing righteousness of Christ

for all and any who put their trust in him alone.

And Lady Margaret had ventured that trust.

And the peace and joy that instantly flooded her heart

was now radiant on her face.

Taking Christ, his perfect righteousness and forgiving blood,

Selina, too, felt that same peace and joy

distill into her troubled heart.

And testimony to how the spiritual deeply affects the physical.

She immediately gained back her bodily health.

Isn't that extraordinary?

When having this spiritual peace, suddenly she's physically well, too.

Well, the countess was now a Christian in a way never known or felt before.

And she could not suppress telling all who would listen of the source of her newfound joy.

But such a message struck her church-going hears as utterly foreign

or damningly bearing the taint of enthusiasm.

A bishop was immediately summoned to persuade her back from these religious wilds

to the safe enclosure and sedate way of decency and decorum in religion.

But Selina had been pouring over her Bible

and ably asserted before the bishop her newfound faith as none other than gospel truth.

It was such a marvelous encounter.

You know, the bishop's kind of sputtering and she's saying,

Oh, but the Bible says, but the Bible tells us.

Well, gospel or not, most of her aristocratic friends found the message impertinent.

Impertinent, that was their word.

As the Duchess of Buckingham told her, I quote,

It is monstrous to be told you have a heart as sinful as the common wretches that crawl on the earth.

This is highly offensive and insulting.

And I cannot but wonder that your ladyship, she's speaking to the Countess of Huntington,

that your ladyship should relish any sentiments so much at variance with our high rank and our good breeding.

Sad to tell, despite all of these appeals over all the years from Selina,

the Duchess would die contentedly confident with her aristocratic heart.

Alas, how common is Goethe's presumption that God would never damn a truly cultured person.

It's not how it works.

It was a tough mission, very tough mission field for the Countess.

For so often, the high and mighty are the high and haughty.

Reflecting on God's grace in her own life.

The Countess used to often say,

Thank God for the M.

Thank God for the M.

Referring to the Apostle's phrase in 1 Corinthians 1.26,

where he says,

Not many of noble birth.

Thank God for the M.

Thank God it's not any.

But not many meant at least some.

And this was her circle and mission field now.

How might she reach them?

If her high-born peers would not go to the gospel preachers,

perhaps she could bring the gospel preachers to them.

Thus began the Countess's drawing room outreach.

It's marvelous.

Having received a lovely embossed invitation to come to tea,

the upper crust would gather in her well-appointed drawing room,

and you saw the likes of her mansion.

I'm sure it was well-appointed.

To her well-appointed drawing room,

and while they consumed fine cakes,

soon found themselves spellbound by George Whitefield,

who came at her invitation,

sometimes as often as twice a week.

And Whitefield was a consummate orator,

and could transport an audience by his word dramas.

Oh, there's Lord Chesterfield,

as in the famous letters of Lord Chesterfield.

Yes, as once George Whitefield was,

and they were so curious about him.

They had heard things.

So they were curious, so they liked to listen.

And once George Whitefield was comparing the case

of a benighted sinner to that of a blind beggar

with his kind of blind staff going forward

and tottering on the brink of a precipice,

and then his cane slips from his hand,

but he grasps after it right in the back.

And so Whitefield's describing that,

and suddenly the suspense was pierced by a cry,

leaping up, and no doubt spilling his tea as he leapt up.

Lord Chesterfield shrieked,

good God, he's gone!

Just having completely entered in,

and then, oh, excuse me,

sat down and then re-poured his tea.

Stirred the tranquility of the moment.

So this is how mesmerizing Whitefield was.

By all accounts, his preaching,

utterly mesmerizing.

Indeed, David Garrick,

remember, he was,

he's the premier,

the leading Shakespearean actor of the day,

to whom we've previously referred.

He was a regular at Selena's,

at her drawing room,

outreaches.

And he,

he marveled

at how Whitefield intoned the word

Mesopotamia

and confessed,

I would give a hundred guineas,

that was a lot of money,

a hundred guineas,

if I could just say the word,

oh,

like Mr. Whitefield.

And he's the top Shakespearean actor of the day.

Unbelievable, unbelievable.

And for all of their gratified curiosity,

they heard the gospel,

clearly and vividly declared,

heard the inner call,

thank God for the M.

Thank God.

And with the drawing room

full of lords and ladies,

the countess did not forget

the downstairs

and would send Whitefield

to repeat his servant,

servant,

sermon

to the servants

and the cooks downstairs

so they would not be without

the good news of Jesus Christ.

And

what would it take

for the common folk

to hear the good news?

The worker in the field,

the miner in the pits,

or the thatcher on the roof,

who seemed eager to listen?

Well,

John Wesley,

Whitefield's friend

and fellow awakener,

did not think it

possible

that someone

could be saved

outside of a church building.

Remember,

these were the days

of kind of decorum

in religion.

But

wherever he,

John Wesley,

would go,

the buildings,

and he was one of

Whitefield,

he was one of these

awakening preachers,

the buildings,

the church buildings,

were just too small

to accommodate

the eager hearers,

and crowds

would be turned away.

Here,

yeah,

there's,

there's Wesley,

John Wesley.

I,

my father

had a huge

print of this

in his study,

along with

a study of,

a print of

Martin Luther

studying the Bible.

And so I grew up

under the shadow

of these things,

you know,

studying the Bible

and preaching

the good news.

They're just,

these images

are so precious to me.

If I could have

gotten back

to take a picture

off the one in our house,

this would be a better,

a better image for you.

So,

on,

on one occasion,

when John Wesley

had been preaching

in the church,

the,

the,

the folk

who couldn't press in

for the,

for the,

for the lack of room,

they lingered

just outside the church,

hoping to hear something

through the open

windows.

And as,

and as John Wesley

left,

he,

he saw

the sad crowd

still present

to the churchyard.

So,

wonderfully,

he just stood

upon a tombstone

where he could project

and he just

repeated his whole sermon,

preaching to them too,

to their great joy

and for many

to their eternal

benefit.

The fields

were ripe

for harvest,

but the workers

were few.

Wesley,

John Wesley,

also thought

that none

but officially

authorized clergy

were fit

to preach,

so was vehemently

against

lay preaching.

That is,

you weren't allowed

to preach the gospel

at all

unless you were

an ordained minister

who had had all

this appropriate

education,

you know,

training and education.

education.

That was his belief.

The problem was

it was so hard

to be able

to get that education.

Not many people

could do it.

It was a very,

very narrow gate.

And Wesley

firmly believed this.

But,

thanks be to God,

two very

persistent

women

finally

persuaded

John Wesley

otherwise.

his mother,

Susanna,

an extraordinary

woman.

One day,

I'm going to

do a whole

profile on her.

Just extraordinary.

Susanna Wesley,

the mother of

John and Charles,

and the

Countess of

Huntington,

Selina.

An indomitable

pair.

And John Wesley

finally agreed

to go listen

to a rather

rough-around-the-edges

lay preacher

that the Countess

had been encouraging.

Well,

he most definitely

lacked the Oxford

accent

of John Wesley,

but evidently

not the Holy Spirit.

And Wesley

came away

concluding,

quote,

it is the Lord.

Let him do

what seemeth

good to him.

And from

there and

then,

lay preachers

augmented

the preaching

force and

became really

the hallmark

of this

growing movement

of awakening.

What we

in the

American

choice

called

the Great

Awakening,

the First

Great

Awakening.

Thanks to

those two

women.

Well,

as the

gospel

sounded

forth across

Britain,

from village

cross,

as we saw

with Wesley,

to country

veil,

thousands

experienced

new birth.

But what

would become

of them?

There was a

famine for

the word

of God

in the

churches.

Wesley,

John Wesley,

a great

organizer,

developed

classes,

what he

called

classes.

These were

really small

groups for

mutual

encouragement.

So the

people that

were converted

in this

open

preaching,

they gathered

together in

little small

groups,

because there

wasn't much

fair for

them in the

churches at

the time.

So they

were in

classes,

meeting for

mutual

encouragement.

Whitefield's

converts,

however,

found no

haven.

They are,

alas,

said Whitefield,

a rope of

sand.

He was not

a good

organizer.

Well,

here,

the

countess

stepped in.

She had

been gathering

up preachers

and deputizing

them as her

chaplains.

And it was

not uncommon

for aristocrats

to engage a

private chaplain.

You know,

they'd have

their huge

estate and

they wouldn't

want to go

to church,

so they'd

just engage

a chaplain

and they

would be

their private

family chaplain.

And they

would be

identified

by wearing

the scarf

of what,

you know,

the lordship

or the

countess,

whatever,

who would

sponsor them.

So that's

how they

would be

identified.

And they

would enjoy

the authorization

to preach

because they

had the

scarf,

the embossed

scarf.

So what

Selina did

was she

began to

build chapels

for her

chaplains.

And they

began to

dot the

landscape.

And there

the new

converts

could go

and be

nurtured

in the

gospel.

And she

would fill

their pulpits

with her

itinerant

chaplains,

moving them

to and fro

like a

general

commanding

her troops.

Hence,

it was said

in either

delight

by the

friends of

the gospel

or in

dismay

by others,

her

scarves

are all

over the

land.

Or her

scarves

are all

over the

land.

But more

ministers were

needed to

save souls

and to

nurture

converts.

And Oxford

and Cambridge,

the universities,

the two

universities,

Oxford and

Cambridge,

were the

only places

where Anglican

ministers could

be trained.

And they

were stolidly

against any

enthusiasm.

Six students

had just

been expelled

from Oxford

and Oxford

College for

such leanings.

As their

tutor complained,

they were

quote,

enthusiasts

who

talked of

inspiration,

regeneration,

and drawing

nigh to

God.

Oh my

goodness.

For such,

one was

persona non

grata and

kicked out of

the university.

So you had

no opportunity

for training.

Narrow was

the gate.

So,

so the

countess

decided to

found her

own

training

college.

That

very year,

1768,

when the

students were

kicked out.

Okay,

on her

birthday,

Trevecca

was established.

And George

Whitefield

preached the

inaugural sermon

on the text,

no one can

lay any

foundation other

than Jesus

Christ,

1 Corinthians

3.11.

Soon,

it became

a fountain

of gospel

witness flowing

throughout the

land and

watering the

very dry

earth.

The

countess

herself would

interview all

candidates and

direct them on

their evangelical,

evangelistic

errands,

providing ponies

for their

transport and

a good suit

and a wig

if the

setting demanded.

So if she

was going to

bring them

into her

drawing room

things,

she'd give

them a

really nice

suit and

nice wig,

you know,

so it would

be less

offensive.

Well,

a good thing

that she had

money,

you might say,

to finance

all of these

ventures.

Yes,

and here's the

extraordinary

thing.

when it

began to

run low,

she sold

all of her

jewels to

the substantial

sum of

698 pounds

and 15

shillings.

That was

an enormous,

an enormous

amount.

important.

Why,

it's as if

she must

have thought

her treasure

was in

heaven or

something.

I don't

know.

I scarcely

could forego

pausing here

and asking,

I wonder

what jewels

we have

that we

might sell

to put

some more

jewels

in our

Savior's

crown.

God.

Well,

the scale

of these

gospel

ventures,

it has

to be

emphasized

in order

to be

grasped.

You can

sit in the

front row

if you

want.

I won't

hear the

hissing as

well unless

you sit

in the

front row.

That's

right.

The

scale

of these

ventures

has to

be

emphasized

in order

to be

grasped.

Lady

Huntington's

chapels

were springing

up everywhere,

reaching great

numbers.

On

Trevecca

anniversaries,

also her

birthday,

you remember,

so a

two-fold

special occasion,

she would

summon her

chaplains

and they

would preach

in succession,

sometimes nine

of them in

an unbroken

row,

to as

many as

20,000

hearers.

So we

can't even

conceive of

people even

being able to,

crowds like

that even

being able to

hear without

amplification.

But they

could do

this.

I mean,

the people like

George

Whitefield

could actually

project his

voice when he

came to the

colonies here

and would

preach in

Philadelphia,

say,

people would

gather on

both sides

of the

Schuylkill

River and

they could

hear him.

It was

unbelievable.

So,

actually,

if you were

a preacher,

actually developing

a voice was

one of the key

and pivotal

things to do.

And if you

read Charles

Spurgeon's

lectures to my

students,

he has a

chapter on

how to

develop and

take care of

your voice

because this

was your

instrument,

it was

absolutely

critical.

So,

20,000

people around.

It was

said that

there were

over 1,000

ponies seen

in the

surrounding

fields of

all these

gatherings.

While the

college was

housed at

Trevecca,

150

preachers were

trained,

ponied up

and suited

up.

That

training

college

would

migrate

twice,

once to

Chescent

and then

to

Westminster

College

in

Cambridge

where

it

was

my

happy

experience

to

reside

for one

year in

my own

training.

It was so

much fun

to be in

that same

spot.

200 new

chapels

were now

opened.

Such

pervading

witness

was bound

to stir

opposition

and it

did.

how many

of her

own

chapels

and

chaplains

can

one

woman

have?

Even

a

countess.

It's

far too

many

scarves

outside

of her

wardrobe,

they said.

You guys

missed that.

If you

would engage

a chaplain,

the aristocracy,

in order to give

them authority,

you would give

them one of

your scarves

that was

embossed.

That was

their authority

and she

would have

hundreds.

Say that.

Far too

many scarves

outside your

wardrobe.

Vickers,

who felt

the

enthusiastical

encroachment,

took legal

action against

her in the

church courts.

Not in my

neighborhood,

they thought.

And the

countess found

herself in a

legal pickle

that threatened

to halt,

indeed pluck

up,

her gospel

mission.

It was

then that

she was

able to

appeal through

her privileged

access as

an aristocrat

to King

George himself

who draped

his cloak

of protection

around her.

But it

involved a

watershed for

the countess

and her

movement.

She might

gain royal

protection through

the Toleration

Act,

allowing dissenters,

legally,

dissenters from

the Anglican

Church,

to gather

and to

preach.

But to

come under

its sheltering

canopy,

she would

have to

declare her

chapels

dissenting

houses of

worship.

So

Selina

became a

reluctant

separatist,

forced out

of the

Church of

England

and her

chapel

network,

as John

Wesley and

his

followers

would

later

become,

much to

their

own

frustration

and

reluctance,

they were

driven out

of the

Church of

England.

They became

their own

denomination.

So they

came to be

called

Countess

Huntington

Connection

Chapels.

This is in

1781.

So the

Countess of

Huntington's

Chapels was

its own

denomination.

Again,

she didn't

want to

no longer be

an Anglican,

but they

forced her

out.

It was the

only way

that she

could have

the freedom

to establish

these things.

This is

her Countess

of Huntington

Chapel in

Bath,

was one

of the

great spas

for the

aristocrats

at that time,

so she built

a chapel there

so they'd be

able to come

and hear the

gospel.

A conflict

was not

simply with

the Church

of England,

doctrinal

divisions

began to

emerge even

within the

ranks of

the awakening

preachers.

A rift

opened between

Whitefield

and Wesley,

John Wesley,

along Calvinist

Arminian

fault lines.

Whitefield's

followers became

known as

Calvinist

Methodists,

as differentiated

from

Wesleyan

Methodists

who followed

John and

Charles Wesley.

Now the

Countess had

studied convictions

in the matter,

aligning her

with Whitefield,

but she

maintained a

breadth of

friendship across

those theological

lines.

And it's

noteworthy

that her

judgment was

highly esteemed,

resulting in

her frequently

being sought

for advice

even at

cross-grained

theological

affinity.

So for

example,

John Wesley,

more Arminian,

would consult

her often

and did

as to

whether it

be advisable

to publish

his journals.

And happily,

he followed

her advice.

And we have

them in print

now.

They're

marvelous.

Given an

opportunity to

preach at

Oxford,

John Wesley

sent the

countess

the sermon

that he had

prepared to

see if she

thought it

suitable for

the weighty

occasion.

she thought

upon reading

it,

it utterly

unsuitable

and told him

so,

directing him

more promisingly.

So he

scrapped it

and wrote

another.

The almost

Christian

was what he

wrote,

which has

turned out to

be one of

his most

blessed sermons

of all of

them.

An incredible

afterlife in

this sermon

in terms of

its impact

for the

kingdom of

God,

the almost

Christian,

thanks to

Selina,

Countess of

Huntington.

Another of

the great

evangelists of

the day,

I just

can't wait

for him.

Don't you

just want to

meet this

person?

It's just

going to be

so wonderful.

Another of

the great

evangelists of

the day,

William Romaine,

sought her

judgment on a

work of

controversy he

was to

send to

the press.

And she

found a

line in

it that

spoke

uncharitably

of another

brother in

the Lord,

Isaac Watts,

who we know

from some of

his hymns.

And Selina

the Countess

told him,

take it

out,

take it

out,

which he

did.

Oh,

here's Isaac

Watts.

You remember

him.

I wonder

how frequent

and consequential

was the

Countess's

hidden

editorial

hand for

the church

in her

day.

And these

are a lot

of church

leaders that

often are in

conflict,

and it's

like a

lubricant in

the way they

interact, to

the huge

benefit and

blessing for

the harmony

of the

church in

her day.

I'm sure.

I mean, how

often has

Anita saved

me from what

I have

witlessly

written that

would surely

have caused

calamitous

offense or

abiding hurt?

how many

teachers among

us would

come off far

better in

the stricter

judgment that

will be

applied had

we subjected

our thought to

the judgment

of our very

wise spouses

first.

So, there's a

free recommendation

that saved my

skin.

Neither were

the Countess's

deeply trained

theological

instincts,

merely helpfully

directive

and cautionary.

They were

also instructive

and clarifying.

Like Priscilla,

she was

quite capable

and ready to

explain the

way of the

Lord more

accurately to

others.

She certainly

helped Henry

Venn.

Here's Henry

Venn.

I took that

picture in the

rain.

Yeah, it's

something.

She certainly

helped Henry

Venn to a

fuller

understanding of

the gospel.

Once hearing

him preach,

she found him

unclear on the

atonement, so

wrote him a

letter.

Oh, my

friend, we

can make no

atonement to a

violated law.

we have no

inward holiness

of our own.

The Lord Jesus

Christ is the

Lord our

righteousness.

Cling not to

such beggarly

elements, but

look to him

alone who

hath wrought out

a perfect

righteousness for

his people.

And this

exhortation

proved fruitful

in Venn's

heart.

As George

Whitefield wrote

to the

countess,

quote,

your exertions

in bringing

him to a

clearer

understanding of

the everlasting

gospel have

indeed been

greatly blessed

of the Lord.

So, and he

went on to be

one of the

great evangelical

leaders of

his day, and

indeed his son

and his

grandson, and

so on for a

long time, the

Venn family.

Well, there

is, we

must acknowledge,

a rather

prominent

executive tone

to the

countess.

After all, she

was a

countess.

Perhaps this

is the

aristocrat in

her manifesting.

She certainly

was confident

that she knew

what people

needed to do

and did not

hesitate to

tell them

so.

A few, it

seemed, resisted

her.

John

Barrage, there

he is, another

great gospel

preacher of the

age.

Wonderful guy.

I remember

when I was at

Cambridge, I

had heard that

he was evangelist

all the way to

his death and

even after his

death on his

tombstone.

So I rode my

bike a long,

long, long, long

way just to

see it and I

found this

tombstone.

Look at this

friends, isn't

this wonderful?

Here lay the

earthly remains

of John

Barrage, late

vicar of

Everton and

an itinerant

servant of

Jesus Christ

who loved his

master and his

work and after

running on his

errands many

years was

called up to

wait on him

above.

Reader,

art thou

born again?

No salvation

without a new

birth.

I was born in

sin February

1716.

Remained

ignorant of my

fallen state

until 1750.

Lived proudly

on faith and

works for

salvation till

1754.

Admitted to

Everton

Vicarage 1755.

Indeed was a

preacher of the

gospel at this

church while

he was living

proudly on

works and

faith.

Fled to

Jesus alone

for refuge.

1756.

Fell asleep in

Christ.

January 22nd,

1793.

Isn't that

wonderful?

An evangelist

on his tomb.

Reader,

art thou

born again?

No salvation

without a new

birth.

death.

So,

that's

John

Barrage.

He

was,

he was,

he occasionally

would deny her

her wishes

as she moved

players around

the Great Awakening

chessboard.

but he took

no offense

and admired

her even

in her

sharp

dealings

as he

once wrote

to her,

verily,

you are a

good piper

but I know

not how to

dance.

I love your

scorpion letters

dearly,

though they do

take the flesh

off my bones

and I

believe your

glasses,

countess,

are better

than mine

but alas,

I cannot see

through your

glasses.

She did

have good

glasses.

She saw

the big

picture clearly

but she

was not

infallible

and made

mistakes as

she herself

acknowledged

and regretted.

Late in life

she said,

as Christians

we wish

to retract

what a

more deliberate

consideration

might have

prevented.

There's a

good lesson

here for

those who

are often

right

and think

themselves

always so.

Well,

there's so

much more

to tell

of the

countess

and her

impact.

Her

practical

knowledge

of just

what needed

to be done

was not

restricted to

the national

scale but

reached down

also to

the quotidian

matters of

life.

There's

Sally,

Charles

Wesley's

wife,

and on

one occasion

Sally,

wife of

Charles

Wesley,

was quite

ill with

smallpox

and her

husband,

Charles

Wesley,

was away

looking after

his brother

John,

who was

also

unwell.

So when

Selina

arrived and

discovered

Sally in

her plight,

she immediately

set things

right.

She summoned

George

Whitefield to

fetch Charles

and send

him,

Charles,

back to

his wife's

side where

he belonged

and then

had Whitefield

stay and

nurse John

Wesley back

to health.

All that

was needed

was a good

traffic officer

to direct

things with

whistle and

gesture and