The Field That Needed Both Rain and Seed

In the 1740s, followers of George Whitefield and John Wesley nearly tore the English revival apart. Whitefield preached a thundering Calvinist gospel in open fields, drawing thousands to repentance. Wesley organized converts into small discipleship bands, nurturing them with methodical care. Their supporters drew battle lines — "I follow Whitefield!" and "I follow Wesley!" — as though the Great Awakening belonged to either man.

But Whitefield himself refused the division. When someone asked whether he expected to see Wesley in heaven, Whitefield replied, "I fear not, for he will be so near the Eternal Throne and we at such a distance, we shall hardly get sight of him." When Whitefield died in 1770, he asked Wesley to preach his funeral sermon. Wesley obliged, standing before thousands to honor the man with whom he had publicly disagreed for decades.

Both men understood what their followers often forgot: one planted and the other watered, but God gave the increase. Whitefield's fiery evangelism and Wesley's patient discipleship were not competing programs. They were complementary gifts from the same Lord, cultivating the same field.

Paul told the Corinthians the same truth. When we reduce the work of the Almighty to the personality of His servants, we reveal not our sophistication but our immaturity. The field belongs to God. The harvest belongs to God. We are simply privileged to carry seed and water in His name.