A Sight & Sound Film production. 2nd film, after "I Heard the Bells (2022)". I watched it online while others watch it in theater a couple of months go. This is a movie about George Whitefield and Benjamin Franklin.
I'm not doing summary here nor fact checking. But merely my reaction to it as I am watching it now, on a Sunday night, at 9:36PM.
I am grateful for the film overall, despite apparently being made by Methodist/Baptist/etc. The film's artistic creative license is fine, as I consider it as visual shorthand to complex historical backgrounds.
The contemporaries:
John Wesley: 1703 - 1791
Jonathan Edwards: 1703 - 1758
Benjamin Franklin: 1706 - 1790
George Whitefield: 1714 - 1770
George Washington: 1732 - 1799
Beethoven: 1770 - 1827
On Benjamin Franklin, famous for his invention of the lightning rod among other groundbreaking items, and well known politician of his days. Desired to help others rather than make money, Franklin refused to patent any of his creations. He believed that since we benefit from past inventions, we should be happy to serve others with our own designs for free.
This is remarkable of Franklin, whom the righteous folks today may admire, but stand on opposite principle regarding intellectual property.
On George Whitefield, contrary to the movie, his left eye was merely cross-eyed or "singular cast", but both his eyes were of the same color blue, not greyish, duller color on the left as portrayed in the movie. Also, the Holy Club and George Whitefield were Anglicans and were baptized as infant, and not submerged. And it was Charles Wesley, not John Wesley, who steered the spiritually troubled Whitefield towards a Reformed true light by giving him a book by Calvinist puritan Henry Scougal: Henry Scougal titled The Life of God in the Soul of Man. Not John Wesley reminding him of God's declaration of being well pleased with His Son from heaven at baptism before Jesus did any great miracles. Such is the wonderful works of God, even when Charles Wesley was anti-Calvinist. I guess Sight & Sound is also anti-calvinist.
Famous painting of George Whitefield by John Russell (around 1770):
Whitefield's collapsible pulpit is an interesting contraption. Recently used by FBC (First Baptist Church) Kaufman:
It is otherwise held in private for researchers: You can contact the Texas Baptist Historical Collection staff directly via email at tbhc@txb.org or by calling 254-754-9446. [1]
However, there's also a replica of this pulpit in DC at the Museum of the Bible.
The use of such pulpit was actually quite practical:
1. Acoustic Amplification (The "Megaphone" Effect)
In the 18th century, there were no microphones, speakers, or sound systems. Whitefield routinely preached to open-air crowds of 20,000 to 30,000 people. [1, 2, 3]
- The Physics: Sound travels outward and downward. If Whitefield stood flat on the grass, his voice would be instantly absorbed by the clothing and bodies of the people in the very front row, leaving the thousands of people in the back completely unable to hear him.
- The Solution: The pulpit elevated him about three feet above the crowd. This allowed his voice to shoot over the heads of the front rows, letting the sound waves travel much further across the open fields.
2. High Visual Visibility
In a massive outdoor field, a crowd of tens of thousands of people turns into a flat sea of bodies.
- By standing inside an elevated pulpit, Whitefield became a highly visible focal point.
- Even people standing hundreds of yards away in the back could look up and clearly see his theatrical hand gestures, facial expressions, and body language. This was vital for keeping massive, distracted outdoor audiences focused on his hours-long sermons. [1]
3. Protection from Violent Mobs
Preaching outdoors in the 1700s was incredibly dangerous. Because Whitefield challenged traditional church structures, angry traditionalists, rowdy drunkards, and organized hecklers regularly showed up to disrupt his meetings. [1, 2]
- Mobs frequently hurled rocks, bricks, dead cats, mud, and rotten eggs at him while he spoke.
- The thick, solid oak walls of the portable pulpit acted as a literal shield, protecting his lower body and legs from flying projectiles while he preached. [1, 2]
It was not built by Whitefield as shown in the movie, but he explicitly had it built by a carpenter in London in 1742 out of solid oak. The design was uniquely engineered to be completely collapsible, lightweight, and held together by metal hinges so it could be easily folded up and thrown into the back of a horse-drawn carriage during his constant travels. [1, 2, 3, 4, 5]