“The Parson’s Converted!” William Haslam Found God Through His Own Sermon
There cannot be many preachers converted during one of their own sermons, but this was the happy fate of William Haslam. Ordained in 1842, he was initially more concerned with church decor and starting an orchestra than with finding the power of God. But God had other ideas!
Haslam’s congregation at Baldhu in Cornwall, UK, included many from a revivalist Methodist background. Their regular testimonies of conversion, and the clear evidence that they had found something transcendent, bored into Haslam’s heart. Eventually, he consulted another vicar, Robert Aitken, who spoke of new birth (John 3:16) and rivers of living water (John 7:38). They prayed but Haslam felt nothing.
The next Sunday, he felt too troubled to preach. He determined to say a few words on the need for conversion and then dismiss the congregation. He recounts what happened next:
“Something was telling me, all the time, ‘You are no better than the Pharisees. You do not believe He has 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 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 fashion, “The parson is converted! The parson is converted! Hallelujah!”
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 former time, I joined in the outbreak of praise, and then gave out the Doxology – “Praise God from whom all blessings flow”, and the people sang it over and over again.”
Haslam’s own account of what happened next is graphic. “On the Monday after my conversion, our weekday service was filled to excess. I was just telling of how God pulled me out of a desolate pit, when someone gave a shriek and began crying aloud for God’s mercy. This was followed by another, then another, until preaching was impossible. I cannot tell how many found peace that night, but there was great rejoicing.” A series of midweek meetings started in a cottage, and there, too, the mighty power of God was felt, with people falling prostrate in conviction of their sins.
At one service in the church, many fell down, crying for mercy. Haslam continues: “I gave out a hymn and went among the ‘slain of the Lord.’ After about an hour, someone suggested that we should go to the school-room, as it was getting dark. “When I reached the place, I found it impossible to get in, for all was full and a crowd hung about the door. I finally climbed in through the window and stood on a table.”
The noise of prayer and repentance was such that Haslam could not preach. He went among the people, and as each found peace and began praising God, they were asked to leave and make room for others. In this way the meeting went on until ten o’clock, when Haslam left. He returned the next morning to see how they were getting on and noticed many strangers who had not been there before, but had been drawn by the Spirit of God. All alike were too absorbed in God to heed Haslam’s presence.
And so the work of God continued uninterrupted, day and night, for eight days. It was the start of a series of ‘mini-revivals’ in Cornwall and beyond over the coming years. You can read about it in Haslam’s autobiography, From Death Unto Life, which is available online here.