A snowstorm is forecasted to hit Kansas City over the weekend, and I’m reminded of one of my favorite stories from Charles Spurgeon’s life: the story of his conversion. As churches ponder whether they should cancel services, here’s an encouragement not to underestimate how God might work even through a snowstorm and a simple worship service.
Spurgeon’s Conversion
From an early age, God gave him a sensitivity towards his sinfulness. He was never outwardly rebellious. But he knew the sinfulness of his heart. He knew his pride, his envy, his coveting, his impatience. He wrestled with doubts about the gospel and the existence of God. But in all this, he wasn’t sure what it meant to be a Christian. All he heard was more about what he had to do to be a Christian or to prove he was a Christian rather than what Christ had done for him. So from ages 10-15, Spurgeon wrestled with this sense of lostness, helplessness, and conviction.
But the answer finally came on a snowy winter morning. January 6, 1850, Spurgeon was back home in Colchester on winter break. His school had gotten out early because of an outbreak of fever. He decided that, during that holiday, he would visit every chapel in town, hoping that someone would show him the way of salvation. And on that Sunday morning, he was walking towards the city, on the way to another church, when a snowstorm suddenly blew in. Spurgeon was forced into a sidestreet, where he found refuge in a Primitive Methodist chapel.
There were just a handful of people there. He said the Primitive Methodists sang so loud it made his head ache. Then after the singing, an uneducated lay preacher got up and delivered the sermon.
The minister did not come that morning; he was snowed up, I suppose. At last, a very thin-looking man, a shoemaker, or tailor, or something of that sort, went up into the pulpit to preach. Now, it is well that preachers should be instructed; but this man was really stupid. He was obliged to stick to his text, for the simple reason that he had little else to say. The text was, — “LOOK UNTO ME, AND BE YE SAVED, ALL THE ENDS OF THE EARTH.” (Isa 45:22)
He did not even pronounce the words rightly, but that did not matter. There was, I thought, a glimpse of hope for me in that text. The preacher began thus: — “My dear friends, this is a very simple text indeed. It says, ‘Look.’ Now lookin’ don’t take a deal of pains. It ain’t liftin’ your foot or your finger; it is just, ‘Look.’ Well, a man needn’t go to College to learn to look. You may be the biggest fool, and yet you can look. A man needn’t be worth a thousand a year to be able to look. Anyone can look; even a child can look. But then the text says, ‘Look unto Me.’ Ay!” said he, in broad Essex, “many on ye are lookin’ to yourselves, but it’s no use lookin’ there. You’ll never find any comfort in yourselves. Some look to God the Father. No, look to Him by-and-by. Jesus Christ says, ‘Look unto Me.’ Some on ye say, ‘We must wait for the Spirit’s workin’.’ You have no business with that just now. Look to Christ. The text says, ‘Look unto Me.’ … Look unto Me; I am sweatin’ great drops of blood. Look unto Me; I am hangin’ on the cross. Look unto Me; I am dead and buried. Look unto Me; I rise again. Look unto Me; I ascend to Heaven. Look unto Me; I am sittin’ at the Father’s right hand. O poor sinner, look unto Me! look unto Me!”
As Spurgeon sat there dripping wet, it all became clear to him. This is what he records:
“I had been waiting to do fifty things, but when I heard that word, ‘Look!’ what a charming word it seemed to me! Oh! I looked until I could almost have looked my eyes away. There and then the cloud was gone, the darkness had rolled away, and that moment I saw the sun; and I could have risen that instant, and sung with the most enthusiastic of them, of the precious blood of Christ, and the simple faith which looks alone to Him.”
That Sunday morning, Spurgeon was radically converted. And this would change the course of his life forever. For the first time, he understood that faith in Christ was not about doing something for God. It was about receiving, about trusting in what Christ had done for him.
The Lesson of the Snowstorm
Have you ever been discouraged when you go to church on a Sunday morning after a snowstorm and only a handful of people are here? Don’t underestimate what God can do. You never know who’s there. You never know who will show up. There may very well be a young man or woman who has been wrestling with their sin and has finally come hoping that someone will show them the way of salvation.
Don’t underestimate what God can do through another time of family worship, through another Sunday School class, through another personal quiet time, through another Bible study, through another Sunday gathering. These are all very ordinary things. But God can use these very ordinary means to accomplish His miracles, through the proclamation of the gospel. Spurgeon came to believe this about preaching. He was converted under the preaching of an uneducated, inexperienced lay preacher. And he never got over that fact.
Personally, I have to bless God for many good books… ; but my gratitude most of all is due to God… for the preached Word, — and that too addressed to me by a poor, uneducated man, a man who had never received any training for the ministry, and probably will never be heard of in this life, a man engaged in business, no doubt of a humble kind, during the week, but who had just enough of grace to say on the Sabbath, “Look unto Me, and be ye saved, all the ends of the earth.” The books were good, but the man was better. The revealed Word awakened me; but it was the preached Word that saved me.
So as the snowstorm approaches, if even just a few people can safely gather for worship, don’t cancel the service! You don’t have to have all the production that you might normally have on a Sunday. Sing from the hymnal. Have an elder or another qualified brother lead in prayer and the preaching of the Word. And celebrate the risen Christ together. The preacher may not preach like Spurgeon but don’t underestimate what God can do through a plain, simple, clear proclamation of the gospel. God uses our efforts and talents, but the power lies not in us but in God and His Word.