Dare I mention another military analogy, this time from the American Civil War? At the outset, the Confederate army in the south had fairly bleak prospects against the superior Union forces, but then there was the strange, strange case of General George McClellan. It is said that if this general had speedily marched his huge army of 168,000 men south and taken Richmond (the Confederate States’ capital) there might have been an early end to the war. McClellan was the man of the hour, a wealthy former railway chief who exuded decision and authority. When they painted his picture he struck a perfect Napoleonic stance, even with his hand in his coat. His manual on the art of war was essential reading for officers.

In the winter of 1861-2 his was the best supplied and best fed army ever seen in America, chickens and equipment in abundance arriving in wagons every hour. The trouble was not the availability of recruits and provisions, but the celebrated general. He just wouldn’t move. He fussed and hesitated for months, while Abraham Lincoln paced his Washington study in exasperation saying, ‘What have we got to do to get him to fight? Why won’t he go forward?’ Despite a three-to-one majority of troop numbers, McClellan repeatedly appealed for reinforcements and additional supplies, having convinced himself the enemy were far more powerful than they were (or ever could have been). Eventually he did move forward and mount attacks, but these were all too little too late, and much blood shed on both sides accomplished nothing. As a result the noble general went further into his shell until relieved of his command.

Is this not just like our reformed scene? As we mentioned in the case of our earlier military illustration, we are so well equipped, having the Word of God together with many able preachers, and people willing to operate Sunday Schools and visit homes if only churches would organise such activities, yet little or nothing is attempted. We wonder if the angels in Heaven look down and say, ‘What have we got to do to get these British reformed Christians to fight? They do not seem interested in the battle for souls.’

We rightly have our obligation and concern for the other theatres of war we have listed, but why not for soulwinning? In this respect we have nothing in common with the Reformers, the Puritans, the preachers of the golden age of Baptist church expansion, the Victorian pulpit, the likes of Whitefield, Carey, Spurgeon and so many others of the reformed school. We have preachers who believe in the free offer of the Gospel, but hardly ever proclaim it. They are mainline Calvinists in theory, but hyper-Calvinists in methodology, for their level of Gospel activity is often no greater.

We have reformed churches with no children’s Sunday Schools, no active community visitation, no stress on the necessity of a serving church membership, and no evangelistic preaching. But this is not authentic, historic reformed Christianity. It is something abnormal, and we need to recognise this. Today, maintaining the army takes up all the attention of reformed preachers and writers, while the purpose of the army has been all but forgotten. Endless reformed conferences and publications exclusively emphasise other departments of the Christian warfare, seemingly unaware that modern British Calvinism has by this omission become disfigured and unsound. As a result, individual believers in many churches have forgotten how to serve the Lord in a corporate way. Are we among them? Do we need to stir ourselves to action?. . . to be continued