131 audiobooks, 1,134 hours of narration. Give $50 and every one is yours.
Puritan books
Cover of Sermons of George Whitefield: Part 2

Modern English edition · 1741 AD

Sermons of George Whitefield: Part 2

by George Whitefield

The second collection of sermons from the greatest evangelist of the Great Awakening. Whitefield's powerful preaching brought thousands to Christ on both sides of the Atlantic.

Start reading free

One free account opens 250+ books and saves your place on every device. Google sign-in or an email link. No card.

Included with your free account

This book, and 250+ more, free to read

A free account opens the whole library to read online, on your phone or at your desk. Open a book on one device and it is waiting at the same page on the next. The PDF and EPUB of every book are yours to keep, and audiobooks play in the same app.

  • 250+ modernized editions Not samples. The whole work, free.
  • Your place, on every device Phone, tablet or desktop, same page.
  • 131 audiobooks From $4.99 each, or all of them with a $50 gift.
  • PDF and EPUB included Download any book to keep.
Create your free account Google sign-in or an email link. No card.
The in-app reader on a phone, mid-chapter of The Mortification of Sin in modern English
My Library on a phone, with a book to continue reading and the cover grid

About this book

George Whitefield was the most celebrated preacher of the eighteenth century. His voice could carry to crowds of over 30,000 without amplification, and his dramatic delivery moved hardened sinners to tears. Benjamin Franklin, though skeptical of Whitefield's theology, was so impressed by his oratory that he emptied his pockets into the collection plate. These sermons capture the power that made Whitefield the defining voice of the Great Awakening.

This second volume continues with more of Whitefield's powerful sermons. Building on the foundation laid in Part 1, these messages delve deeper into the themes of regeneration, gospel grace, and the urgency of the soul's salvation. Whitefield's ability to make eternal truths feel immediately relevant shines through every page.

Whitefield's preaching style combined Reformed doctrine with passionate appeal. He preached the sovereignty of God in salvation while earnestly pleading with sinners to come to Christ. His sermons are marked by vivid illustrations, direct address to the conscience, and what contemporaries called "a pathos" that reached the heart. He preached as a dying man to dying men.

The theology in these sermons is robustly evangelical and Calvinistic. Whitefield emphasizes human sinfulness, the necessity of the new birth, justification by faith alone, and the work of the Holy Spirit in conversion. Yet his Calvinism never dampened his evangelistic fervor—he preached to all as though all could be saved, leaving the secret things to God.

These sermons also reveal Whitefield's ecumenical spirit. Though an Anglican minister, he preached in dissenting meetinghouses, Presbyterian churches, and open fields. He cared more for the gospel than for denominational boundaries, declaring, "Father Abraham, whom have you in heaven? Any Episcopalians? No! Any Presbyterians? No! Any Baptists? No! Any Methodists, Seceders, Independents? No, no, no! Whom have you there? Christians!"

For modern readers, Whitefield's sermons offer a model of preaching that is both doctrinally rich and emotionally engaging. In an age when preaching often seems either dry or shallow, Whitefield demonstrates that sound theology and passionate delivery are not opposites but partners. His sermons continue to challenge, convict, and comfort readers nearly three centuries after they were first delivered.

The Gospel Supper

Luke 14:22-24: "And the servant said, Lord, it is done as thou hast commanded, and yet there is room. And the lord said unto the servant, Go out into the high-ways, and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled. For I say unto you, that none of those men which were bidden, shall taste of my supper."

Though this is a large and solemn assembly, I assume you're all convinced that you won't live in this world forever. Can I not take it for granted that even the most profane among you believe in your hearts what the sacred Scriptures have most clearly revealed: "That as it is appointed for all men once to die, so after death comes the judgment"? Yes, I know you believe that nothing is more certain than that we are to "appear before the judgment-seat of Christ, to be rewarded according to the deeds done in the body, whether they have been good, or whether they have been evil."

And however hard this saying may seem to you at first hearing, I cannot help informing you that I'm thoroughly persuaded that just as many will be driven from that judgment seat with a "Depart ye cursed into everlasting fire" for pursuing things that are in themselves lawful (but out of a wrong motive and with too much intensity) as for drunkenness, adultery, fornication, or any other gross depravity whatsoever.

Base as the world is, thank God, there are still great numbers left among us who, either through the restraints of a religious upbringing or through self-love and concern for their outward reputation, abstain from gross sin themselves and look with disgust and horror on others who indulge in it. But then, through an overly eager pursuit of the things of sense and time, their souls are gradually lulled into a spiritual slumber and by degrees become as dead to God and as deaf to all the gracious invitations of the gospel as the most abandoned prodigals.

It's remarkable, therefore, that our Savior, knowing how desperately wicked and treacherous the heart of man is in this and other respects, after He had cautioned His disciples (and us in them) to "take heed that their hearts were not at any time overcharged with gluttony and drunkenness," immediately adds, "and the cares (the immoderate anxious cares) of this life." For they are of a distracting, intoxicating nature and soon overcharge and weigh down the hearts of the children of men.

To prevent or remedy this evil, our Lord, during the time of His dwelling here below, spoke many parables, but not one more relevant, not one in which the freeness of the gospel call, the frivolous excuses men frame to avoid embracing it, and the dreadful doom they incur by doing so are more displayed or set off in livelier colors than the one to which the words of the text refer: "And the lord said unto the servant, Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled: For I say unto you, that none of those that were bidden shall taste of my supper."

To understand the context, purpose, and content of the parable these words belong to, we need to go back to the very beginning of this chapter. "And it came to pass, as he went into the house of one of the chief Pharisees to eat bread, on the Sabbath day, that they watched him." The person spoken of here, going into this Pharisee's house, is our blessed Savior. Because He came eating and drinking, consistent with His character, He was open, courteous, and friendly to everyone. So even though it was the Sabbath, He accepted an invitation and went to the house of one of the chief Pharisees to eat, despite knowing that the Pharisees were His declared enemies and that they were watching Him, hoping to find some reason to criticize either His words or His actions.

If the Pharisee whose house our Lord entered was one of this type, his invitation reveals him to be a very wicked man. This can teach us that great bitterness and deep hostility against Jesus Christ can be hidden and disguised under an impressive and showy profession of religion. Still, our Savior was more than equal to all His enemies. By accepting this invitation, He has given His ministers and disciples permission to accept similar invitations and to speak freely about the things of God, even when those who invite them may not have genuine religion in their hearts. After all, how do you know, friend, whether you might say something that could benefit their souls and make them truly religious?

And suppose they do watch you. Then you should watch yourself in prayer while you're in their company, and that same Jesus, who went into this Pharisee's house and was so faithful and edifying in His conversation there, will enable you to go and do the same.

Jesus didn't engage in trivial conversation. Instead, He spoke in ways that built people up, and He acted among the guests more like a faithful physician than a careless, indifferent companion. This becomes clear in verse 7 of this chapter, where we're told that "he marked how they chose the chief rooms," or to put it in everyday terms, how they wanted to sit at the head of the table. Whether we think about it or not, the Lord Jesus notices our behavior, even when we're simply sitting down for an ordinary meal. I wish everyone who claims to be a genuine Christian would consider this carefully! If they did, religion wouldn't be confined to church or worship services but would be brought into our private homes, and many unnecessary, unchristian formalities would be avoided.

Let me speak frankly: isn't it too true that many professing Christians love the best seats in homes just as much as in synagogues? This is exactly what our Lord criticized in the guests where He was now dining. He observed, He took notice, He looked before He spoke (as we should always do if we want to speak effectively) at how they competed for the best seats. Even though they were wealthy and weren't His guests, He was unwilling to let any sin pass without comment or to miss any opportunity to give instruction.

"When you are invited by anyone to a wedding" (which suggests this was a wedding feast), "don't sit down in the best seat, in case someone more distinguished than you has been invited. Then the host who invited both of you will come and say to you, 'Give this man your place,' and you'll begin with shame to take the lowest seat. But when you're invited, go and sit down in the lowest place, so that when your host comes, he may say to you, 'Friend, move up higher.' Then you'll have honor in the presence of everyone sitting at the table with you."

What a glorious example of faithfulness and love for souls! How ministers especially ought to follow their blessed Master's example and, with simplicity and godly sincerity, gently and appropriately rebuke the faults of the company they're in, even if those people are their social superiors!

Jesus didn't stop there. He noticed that only the rich, powerful, and well-connected had been invited to the feast, and He used this as an opportunity to give His host some valuable advice. "Then He said to the one who had invited Him, 'When you give a lunch or a dinner, don't invite your friends, your brothers, your relatives, or your wealthy neighbors. If you do, they'll just invite you back, and you'll be repaid. Instead, when you host a feast, invite the poor, the disabled, the lame, and the blind. Then you will be blessed, because they can't repay you. You'll be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous!'"

We see an example of this in verse 14: "And when one of them that sat at meat with him heard these things, he said unto him, Blessed is he that shall eat bread in the kingdom of God." Happy are those who will be rewarded at that resurrection of the just, which you have been talking about. What a fitting remark! It was perfectly appropriate for people sitting down to eat bread on earth, which we should never do without talking about and longing for that time when we will sit down and eat bread in the kingdom of heaven.

It was as if He said to the person who had just spoken, "You're right: blessed indeed are those who will sit down to eat bread in the kingdom of God. But sadly, most people, especially you Pharisees, act as if you don't believe this." And so He said to him, "A certain man made a great supper, and bade many." By the certain man making a great supper, we're meant to understand God the Father, who has made provision for perishing souls through the obedience and death of His beloved Son, Christ Jesus.

This provision is represented here as a supper because the caena, or supper, among the ancients was their main meal. Human beings could never have made such provision for themselves, nor could angels have made it for them. No, our salvation is entirely from God, from beginning to end. He made it, and not we ourselves, and it is completely due to divine wisdom, not our own, that we have become God's people and the sheep of His pasture.

This provision for perishing souls can rightly be called great because there is rich and ample provision made in the gospel for a great many souls. For however small Christ's flock may be when scattered, yet when they all come together, they will be a multitude that no one can number. And it is especially called great because it was purchased at so great a price: the price of Christ's most precious blood.

So if the great God goes to such great expense to prepare such a great feast for perishing creatures, and sends someone as great as His own Son, in the form of a servant, to invite them to come, you would think that everyone who heard this good news would immediately say, "Lord, we're coming." But instead, we're told, "They all" (the majority of the Jews) "with one consent began to make excuses." Conscience told them they should come, and they probably had some faint desire to come. They had nothing to object to, as far as we can tell, either against the person who prepared the feast, or the person who invited them, or the meal itself.

But the excuses they offered only made their refusal more inexcusable. "The first said to him, I have bought a piece of ground, and I must go and see it." You fool, buy a piece of ground and then go see it! A prudent man would have gone and seen the ground first, and bought it afterward. Why must he go? At least, why must he go now? The land was his own. Couldn't he have accepted the invitation today and gone to see his estate or plantation tomorrow?

The second was even worse. "And another said, I have bought five yoke of oxen, and I go to prove them." One man, it seems, had been buying an estate; another, cattle to stock an estate already bought. Both were equally foolish in making their bargains. For this second man had bought five yoke of oxen, which must have cost him a considerable sum, perhaps everything he had in the world, and now he must go and test them. A wise dealer would have tested the oxen first and bought them afterward.

The excuse the third person makes is the worst of all. "I've married a wife, and therefore I can't come." If he had said, "I won't come," he would have spoken the real feelings of his heart. It's not so much that people lack the ability to come as that they lack the will and desire that keeps them from the gospel feast. But why can't he come? He has "married a wife." Has he? Then by all means he should come. The supper he was invited to appears to have been a wedding supper, which would have saved him the trouble of hosting his own wedding celebration.

This was the reception the servant received, and these were the excuses and answers that came back. What happened next? "So that servant came (no doubt with a sorrowful heart) and showed his Lord these things." However little people may think of it, ministers must show the Lord what success their ministry achieves. We must show it to our Lord here. We must spread the case before Him in prayer. We must show it to our Lord later, before the general assembly of the whole world.

Well, and what does the Lord say? We're told in verse 21 that "the master of the house was angry." Not with the servant, for though Israel may not be gathered, yet Christ will be glorious, and faithful ministers will be rewarded, whether people obey the gospel or not. The master of the house therefore was angry, not with the servant, but with these worldly-minded, pleasure-seeking refusers of his gracious invitation.

And indeed, in one sense, their excuses were accepted. For I don't hear that they were ever invited again. God took them at their word, though they wouldn't take Him at His. They begged to be excused, and they were excused, as we'll see in the rest of this parable. Let us not harden our hearts, as in the day of provocation. "Now is the accepted time, now is the day of salvation."

But must the feast lack guests? No, if they cannot or will not come, others will, and gladly. The master of the house therefore, being angry, sent the servant on a second errand. "Go out quickly into the streets, and lanes of the city, and bring in hither the poor, and the maimed, and the halt, and the blind." Every word expresses a spirit of resentment and urgency. Go out quickly, make no delay, fear no attempt or danger, into the streets and lanes of the city, and bring in here, not only call them, but bring them in.

The servant returns again, but this time with a more encouraging answer than before: "Lord, it is done as you commanded, and yet there is room." His words reveal that he's filled with joy at the success he's had. Only those who have experienced it can understand the comfort ministers feel when they see their work bearing fruit. "Lord, it is done as you commanded. The poor, the maimed, the lame, and the blind have been called, and they've obeyed the summons. I've brought them with me. Yet, Lord, your house and your supper are so great, there is room for more."

"The Lord, therefore, we are told in verse 23, said to his servant (the same servant), 'Go out into the highways and hedges, and compel them to come in, that my house may be filled. For I say to you, that none of those who were invited will taste of my supper'" (Luke 14:23-24). What cutting words these are to those who sat at the table, if they had hearts to make the application! But what glad tidings of great joy to the tax collectors, prostitutes, and Gentiles, who were rejected by the proud Pharisees!

With this conviction supporting me, I'm not ashamed to come out today into the highways and back roads to confess that my mission is to call the poor, the maimed, the lame, and the blind—self-condemned, helpless sinners—to the marriage feast of the Lamb's supper. My message is this: Come, believe in the Lord Jesus. Throw yourselves at the footstool of His mercy, and you will be saved, for all things are now ready.

God the Father is ready, God the Son is ready, God the Holy Spirit is ready. The blessed angels above are ready, and the blessed saints below are ready to welcome you to the gospel feast. A perfect and everlasting righteousness has now been accomplished by Jesus Christ. God can now, on honorable terms, acquit the guilty. God can now be just and yet justify the ungodly.

For Jesus Christ's sake, don't all begin making excuses with one voice. Don't let a piece of land, five yoke of oxen, or even a wife keep you from this great supper. You can enjoy these as gifts from God and use them for the Mediator's glory while still being present at the gospel feast. True and undefiled religion doesn't take away but rather greatly enhances the comforts of life.

Come then, all you lame, poor, maimed, and blind sinners. Take comfort—the Lord Jesus has sent His servant to call you. It's now suppertime, a day of uncommon grace. The day may be far spent. Hurry, therefore, and come to the supper of the Lamb. If you don't come, I know the master will be angry. And who can stand before Him when He's angry?

What do you say, my dear friends? I would put the question to you once more: Will you taste Christ's supper, or will you not? You will all be welcome. There is milk at this feast for babies, as well as meat for strong men and for people of mature years. There is room and provision for high and low, rich and poor, one with another, and our Savior will thank you for coming. Amazing condescension! Astonishing love!

The Pharisee and Publican

Luke 18:14: "I tell you, this man went down to his house justified rather than the other: For every one that lifts himself up will be brought low; and he that humbles himself will be lifted up."

Though some people dare to deny the Lord Jesus and disbelieve the revelation He has given us, thereby bringing swift destruction on themselves, I want to believe charitably that there are few, if any, such people among you to whom I now preach the kingdom of God. If I were to ask you how you expect to be justified in the sight of an offended God, I suppose you would answer, "Only for the sake of our Lord Jesus Christ." But if I were to press more directly on your consciences, I fear that most of you would make the Lord Jesus only partly your Savior, and would try, in effect, to establish a righteousness of your own.

This isn't uncharitable thinking, because we are all self-righteous by nature. It's as natural for us to turn to a covenant of works as it is for sparks to fly upward. We've had so many legalistic preachers and so few grace-centered ones for so many years that most professing Christians now seem settled in their ways (like wine settled on its sediment), and they deserve the title of Pharisees more than Christians.

This was the situation with most people during our Lord's public ministry. That's why, in almost all His discourses, He preached the gospel to poor sinners and pronounced terrible judgments against proud, self-justifying people. The parable to which the text belongs addresses both groups. The evangelist tells us (v. 9) that our Lord "spoke it to certain people who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others."

Ver. 10. "Two men went up to the temple to pray (and never two men of more opposite characters) the one a Pharisee and the other a Publican." The Pharisees were the strictest sect among the Jews. "I was of the strictest sect, of the Pharisees," Paul says. They prayed often. Not only that, but they made long prayers. And to appear extraordinarily devout, they would pray at street corners, where two roads met, so that people going or coming from either direction might see them.

They were so punctual and exact in outward purifications that they washed at their going out and coming in. They held to the washing of pots, bronze vessels and tables, and many other such things they did. They were very zealous for the traditions of the fathers, and for the observation of the rites and ceremonies of the church, even though they frequently made void the law of God by their traditions.

For these reasons they were held in high veneration among the people, who were sadly misled by these blind guides. They had the uppermost places in the synagogues, and greetings in the marketplaces (which they loved dearly), and were called by men, Rabbi. In short, they had such a reputation for piety that it became a proverb among the Jews that, if there were only two men saved, one of them must be a Pharisee.

The publicans were different. They seem to have been Jews sometimes, or at least converts to Judaism, since we find one coming to the temple here. But generally, I think they were Gentiles. They collected Roman taxes and typically accumulated considerable wealth by extorting people through false accusations. They had such a universally bad reputation that our Lord himself told his disciples, "treat an excommunicated man as you would a heathen or a publican."

But whatever their other differences, they agreed on this: public worship is everyone's duty. Both groups came to the temple. Even the pagans practiced temple worship. We have very early accounts in the Old Testament of people sacrificing to and calling on the name of the Lord, and I find nothing in the New Testament that contradicts this.

"Two men went up to the temple to pray." I'm afraid one of them forgot why he came. I've often struggled to figure out what to call the Pharisee's speech. It certainly doesn't deserve to be called a prayer. You could say he came to the temple to boast rather than to pray. I don't find a single word acknowledging his inborn guilt, not one petition asking forgiveness for his past sins, or requesting grace to help him in the future. He simply presents God with an accounting of his good deeds and does something no human being can rightly do: he boasts in God's presence.

Ver. 11. "The Pharisee stood, and prayed thus with himself; God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this Publican."

Our Lord first notices his posture: "the Pharisee stood." There's nothing wrong with that, since standing is just as proper for prayer as kneeling. "When you stand praying," our Lord says, though sometimes He Himself kneeled, and even lay flat on His face on the ground. His apostles also kneeled, as we read in Acts.

What the Pharisee is criticized for is his "standing by himself." The words can be translated to mean he stood by himself on some prominent spot, at the upper part of the temple, near the Holy of Holies, so the congregation could see what a devout man he was. Or it can be understood as we read it: he prayed by himself, or of himself, out of his own heart. He didn't pray using a form; it was an extemporaneous prayer.

Portrait of George Whitefield

About the author

George Whitefield

George Whitefield (1714-1770) was an English Anglican clergyman and evangelist who was one of the founders of Methodism and the evangelical movement. Born in Gloucester, England, he was educated at Oxford where he joined the "Holy Club" with John and Charles Wesley. After his conversion and ordination, Whitefield became the most famous preacher of his era, crossing the Atlantic thirteen times to preach in the American colonies. His open-air preaching drew unprecedented crowds—sometimes exceeding 30,000 people—and his dramatic oratorical style set the pattern for evangelical preaching. Whitefield was instrumental in the Great Awakening, the religious revival that swept through Britain and America in the 1730s and 1740s. Despite his fame, he remained humble, once saying, "Let the name of Whitefield perish, but Christ be glorified." He died in Newburyport, Massachusetts, still active in ministry at age 55.

“Updated Works has been an incredible blessing to my Christian life and ministry… remarkably faithful to the original authors while making these timeless treasures understandable for modern readers.”
— Pastor Mike Cleveland