Australia’s evangelical beginnings

The following excerpt, contributed by Craig Schwarze, is from the upcoming book ‘The Promise of Sydney Anglicans’ edited by Moore College’s Peter Bolt and published by Ashgate Publishing.

Fort Dawes c.1788 Etching of Old Sydney by Lionel Lindsay. Image: Sydney Heritage

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Clubs and societies were all the rage in eighteenth century England, with nearly half the population a member of one association or another. So there was nothing especially remarkable when, on January 16, 1783, four men gathered in London’s Castle and Falcon inn to establish a new society. Yet this group was exceptional; they were destined to change the world, and one of their great projects would be the future church of Australia.

The new gathering was called The Eclectic Society – “eclectic” because its members were a mixed group, drawn from clergymen, dissenting ministers and laymen. What they shared was their evangelical faith. The unofficial leader of the society was John Newton, rector of St Mary Woolnoth, a nearby parish. A peculiar mix of sincere piety and worldly shrewdness, Newton was then in his late fifties and already famous for a bestselling autobiography, which described his former life as a slave trader, and his gradual conversion to evangelical Christianity.

The evangelical movement itself was only a little younger than Newton. It originated in 1730s Oxford, when a group of students had formed “The Holy Club” in response to the impiety they saw around them. These men were sneeringly called “Methodists”, because they practiced their religion so methodically. Their message ultimately coalesced around the gospel, the good news that Christ died for sins, and that faith in Him would lead to eternal life. Although the name Methodist stuck, they also became known as evangelicals, from the Greek word for gospel.

The early movement produced two outstanding leaders in John Wesley and George Whitefield. Both men were ordained into the Anglican Church, yet they were so unpopular with other clergy that few pulpits were open to them. Instead, they found their most effective work happening in meeting houses, in private chapels and even in the open fields. And effective work it was too, for soon thousands of people were being touched by their preaching.

Over the following years, their message would be received most quickly by the common man, more slowly by the privileged, and most sluggishly of all by the clergy. Many evangelicals were happy to leave the Anglican Church behind, but a handful of them desperately wished to see the Church revived by the gospel. These were the Evangelical Anglicans, and they would be responsible for establishing the first church in Sydney, and indeed, in all of Australia. Though never very numerous in the eighteenth century, their integrity, passion, benevolence and piety gave them a disproportionate influence over the ailing Church, as one prominent historian noted –

…they and their colleagues gradually changed the whole spirit of the English Church. They infused into it a new fire and passion of devotion, kindled a spirit of fervent philanthropy, raised the standard of clerical duty, and completely altered the whole tone and tendency of the preaching of its ministers. Before the close of the century the Evangelical movement had become the almost undisputed centre of religious activity in England.

London, however, had proven somewhat resistant to their influence. When the Eclectic Society formed in 1783, there were no more than a handful of evangelical clergy to be found in the hundred-odd parishes of the city, and only two of those had permanent posts. One obvious goal of the Society was to help the London evangelicals stay in touch with each other. They met once a fortnight, and Newton was delighted with the gatherings, as he described to a friend –

Our new institution at the Castle and Falcon promises well. We are now six members and voted in a seventh last night. We begin with tea, then a short prayer introduces a conversation for about three hours upon a proposed subject and we seldom flag… I think they are the most interesting and instructive conversations I have ever had a share in.

The members spent many happy hours in esoteric discussion, but they also had a vision for Christianity that extended beyond London, and even beyond the shores of England. Before the century was out, they had established the organization ultimately known as the Church Missionary Society, which was destined to send hundreds of preachers across the globe. So it is no surprise to find the Eclectic Society minutes of September, 1786 recording the topic as, “What is the best method of planting and propagating the Gospel in Botany Bay?”

This was no academic question, for the Society had recently acquired a serious political ally – a young politician named William Wilberforce. He was a short, spritely man, possessing unquenchable optimism, immense wealth and an angelic voice. After partying his way through Cambridge, Wilberforce had converted to the evangelical faith, and adopted Newton as his spiritual mentor. In addition to his other advantages, Wilberforce happened to be close friends with William Pitt, the young Prime Minister.

In 1786, Pitt was under enormous pressure to deal with the large number of convicts then under sentence in Britain. The American War of Independence had halted the transportation of convicts to America, and a new destination was urgently required. The same war had left the nation feeling vulnerable before her traditional European enemies, and it was feared that a fresh conflict might soon break out and spread across the globe. After much deliberation, Pitt decided to establish a settlement in Botany Bay, on the continent of New Holland. This colony would serve a dual purpose – a place to transport convicts, and a base from which to project naval power into the Pacific.
As a confidante of Pitt, Wilberforce was well aware of the Botany Bay discussions. Things began moving quickly after the official decision was taken in August. Wilberforce, in consultation with Newton, offered to supply the expedition with a chaplain. Pitt wrote back to him on September 23rd –

The colony for Botany Bay will be much indebted to you for your assistance in providing a chaplain… Seriously speaking, if you can find such a clergyman as you mention we shall be very glad of it; but it must be soon.

That very day, Newton approached a man named Richard Johnson about the appointment, and a few days later Wilberforce also wrote to Johnson, telling him the job was his for the asking. After some hesitation, Johnson accepted.

Who was this young man, about to travel half way around the globe and establish the first church on a new continent? The Reverend Richard Johnson was then about 30 years old. He was born in a small Yorkshire village called Welton, and was the son of a well-to-do yeoman farmer named John. It seemed for a time as if he would follow his father into farming – but then he had been caught up by the evangelical revival.

The founding father of the Yorkshire Evangelicals was William Grimshaw, a clergyman who had been converted in the thirties while reading the Puritans. Brawny, fearless and strong-willed, Grimshaw was an outstanding evangelist, and his church at Haworth grew from a dozen members to over a thousand. His preaching was passionate and earthy, and people flocked from the surrounding countryside to hear him. Grimshaw was no respecter of parish boundaries, and would preach wherever he felt the gospel was not being heard. He embodied many of the qualities associated with latter Evangelical Anglicans – a focus on preaching, a commitment to evangelism, and a willingness to violate ecclesiastical niceties in the pursuit of souls. Grimshaw changed countless lives, including a young man named Henry Foster who would one day be Johnson’s mentor and life-long friend.

Another leading light of the Yorkshire movement was Joseph Milner, who was headmaster of Hull Grammar School, and a preacher in the town’s largest church. Milner was strongly committed to recruiting future leaders, and this practice came to be another enduring feature of evangelicalism. Though hindered by a weak constitution, Milner was an industrious man who possessed enormous learning and a prodigious memory. He was rejected by the town’s elite, but his church was packed to overflowing each week with the working man, come to hear the gospel preached. Milner influenced many of the young men under his care at Hull Grammar, and an entire generation of evangelicals passed through the school, including a number of future leaders. Richard Johnson attended this school, and it seems certain that Milner was the primary influence on his young faith, and later encouraged him to seek ordination.

Working alongside Joseph Milner was the Elland Clerical Society. This evangelical association began as a discussion group, based in the Elland parsonage in west Yorkshire. In the late 1770s, the group started a fund to assist young evangelical men into college and hence into holy orders, and this work soon became its primary focus. The work of men like Milner and the Elland clerics transformed the English church. In 1780, less than 1% of English clergy were evangelicals. By 1800, this had risen to 5%, and by 1830 it may have been as high as 25%. This emphasis on the recruitment and training of leaders has marked evangelicalism down to the present day.

Richard Johnson was not assisted by the Elland Society, but many of his contemporaries were, including at least one other man destined for chaplaincy in Australia. But where were these men to study? Most university colleges were hostile toward evangelicals at the time. The exception was Magdalene College, Cambridge, to which Johnson was admitted in January, 1780. The college president was Samuel Hey, who was one of several dazzling evangelical academics in Cambridge at the time. Hey’s careful leadership saw the college become very successful, and devout parents rushed their sons to his door.

Hey’s students, and their successors, became known to history as the Magdalene Evangelicals. They dominated the college for a generation, and a number of them became players on the world stage. One modern historian states that they “…were unquestionably the most significant group ever produced in the College, and had an impact on British and even world history in the early years of the nineteenth century quite disproportionate to their numbers.”

Johnson was amongst the first of the Magdalene Evangelicals, and college histories remember him as a notable alumnus. After completing his studies in 1783, he undertook a brief curacy, was ordained, and went to join Henry Foster in London. Foster was a popular evangelical preacher, a Yorkshire man who had grown up under the preaching of William Grimshaw. He was also a founding member of the Eclectic Society; through him Johnson came into contact with Newton and Wilberforce and the small London evangelical scene, which ultimately lead to the Botany Bay proposal.

What was it about Johnson that recommended him for this appointment? The truth is that there were few alternatives available – Evangelical Anglicans were still rare in 1786. But Johnson had some attractive qualities too. Wilberforce described him as “…one of the worthiest men breathing, the most active, the most humble, and at the same time very little acquainted with the world…” Newton spoke of his simplicity, integrity and humility. Johnson emerges as a humble, honest but rather naïve young man. Regarding his theological views, he was undeniably evangelical, and remained so all his life. At the same time, he wrote of the Anglican Church, “…there is no religious constitution I think so excellent or more scriptural and rational…” In short, he was a committed Evangelical Anglican.

But the chaplaincy proposal threw the young man into turmoil, and he barely ate or slept for several days after the offer was made. He finally decided to accept, compelled by his trust in God, and his desire to see some good done for the convicts. On October 24th he received his commission, and his friends teasingly dubbed him, “The Bishop of Botany Bay”. Newton was ecstatic, for he had no doubt as to Johnson’s true mission. Writing to a friend, he said, “Oh! If Johnson is the man whom the Lord appoints to the honour of being the first to carry the glad tidings into the Southern Hemisphere, he will be a great and honoured man indeed.” To Johnson himself, he wrote –

I consider you in a much higher and more important view than merely a friend of mine, or than any of my brethren in the ministry at home… I conceive of you as the greatest and most honoured minister in our Established Church, as much superior to an archbishop as Teneriffe is more elevated than Highgate Hill. My heart hopes that you will carry with you a spark, from which, in God’s due time, light may proceed to enlighten the whole Southern Hemisphere.

He went a step further, and wrote a hymn to honour Johnson’s departure –
The Lord who sends thee hence will be thine aid;
In Vain at thee the Lion, Danger, roars:
His arm and love shall keep thee undismayed
On tempest tossed seas and all strange shores.
Go, bear the Saviour’s name to lands unknown,
Tell to the Southern World His wondrous grace;
An energy divine thy words shall own,
And draw their untaught hearts to seek His face.
Many in quest of gold, or empty fame,
Would compass earth, or venture near the Poles;
But how much nobler thy reward and aim,
To spread His grace, and win immortal souls!

After a trying eight month voyage, the colony of Sydney was established on January 26th, 1788. On February 3rd, Johnson conducted the first colonial Christian service. The Governor had urged him to confine his sermons to moral subjects, but Johnson instead chose Psalm 116:12 for his text – “What shall I render unto the Lord for all his benefits toward me?” This was no mere moralising, but rather a bold declaration of God’s grace and mercy. Johnson was determined to proclaim the message of salvation, whatever the difficulties.

And the difficulties were many. For the first few years, the attitude of the governors toward him ranged from indifference to hostility. Johnson worked tirelessly, but soon recognised that he was making little spiritual impression on those under his care. The demanding environment combined with a growing realization of his own limitations to send him into a deep depression. The arrival of the colony’s second governor in 1795, the pious John Hunter, saw his spirits revive somewhat, yet when he returned to England in 1800, he felt as if he had accomplished little.

Johnson may have left Sydney disappointed, but history shows him to have been an important colonial pioneer. Perhaps his most significant early contribution was in agriculture. He had spent his young life on a Yorkshire farm, and was reckoned the best farmer in the new colony. As early Sydney teetered on the brink of starvation, his contributions were invaluable.

Johnson was also a pioneer in education, and the first generation of colonial children owed their schooling to his efforts. He recruited teachers from amongst the convicts, raised funds for their employment, provided reading books, and taught lessons himself in the tiny private schools that popped up. When the first official Sydney school opened in 1798, it met in Johnson’s church, and he served as superintendent. He also spent countless hours visiting the adult convicts, distributing spelling books and Bibles, and encouraging the literate to help the illiterate.

Johnson made valuable contributions in other areas too, such as the law, convict welfare and indigenous relations. These efforts were facilitated, rather than hindered, by his evangelical convictions. He remained disappointed by the lack of religious vitality in the colony, yet even there he may have achieved more than he realized. The latter ministries of Samuel Marsden and the South Sea Missionaries would have been immeasurably more difficult if Johnson had not first broken the ground. For their part, these evangelicals treated him with great respect and affection.

And perhaps, after all his trials, Johnson was able to take comfort from some words written to him by John Newton during those difficult early years –

I have not been disheartened by your apparent want of success… You are sent to New Holland, not to sow salad seeds, but to plant acorns; and your labor will not be lost, though the first appearances may be very small, and the progress very slow. You are, I trust, planting for the next century. I have a good hope that your oaks will one day spring up and flourish, and produce other acorns, which, in due time, will take root, and spread among the islands and nations in the Southern Ocean…

Richard Johnson only ever saw acorns. But if he could somehow have looked down the corridor of time, and seen the strong evangelical character of the modern Sydney Anglican Church, perhaps he would feel satisfied that his work had indeed produced a few oaks.