The Night a Theologian Finally Believed
On May 24, 1738, John Wesley — an ordained Anglican priest, Oxford scholar, and former missionary — walked reluctantly to a small gathering on Aldersgate Street in London. He had preached hundreds of sermons. He had sailed across the Atlantic to evangelize Native Americans in Georgia. He had fasted, prayed, studied, and served the poor with tireless discipline. And yet, by his own admission, he did not possess saving faith.
That evening, someone read aloud from Martin Luther's preface to the book of Romans — the very letter where Paul wrote about the word of faith being as near as our mouths and hearts. At about a quarter to nine, Wesley later wrote, "I felt my heart strangely warmed. I felt I did trust in Christ, Christ alone, for salvation; and an assurance was given me that He had taken away my sins, even mine."
No new theology was required. No pilgrimage, no additional degree, no heroic act of devotion. The word had been near Wesley his entire life — on his lips, in his studies, filling his sermons. But that night on Aldersgate Street, it finally reached his heart.
Paul told the Romans that salvation comes to "everyone who calls on the name of the Lord." Wesley had spent years climbing toward God through effort and achievement. But the Gospel was never at the top of a ladder. It was, as Paul wrote, already in his mouth and in his heart — waiting to be believed.
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