WB The Whitefield Curse
Beaufort, NC, is one of my favorite getaways on earth. So when I discovered that the adjacent town of Bath, NC, has an urban legend involving Methodist celebrity, George Whitefield, it was too good to be true. And considering I can’t find any primary resources, who knows how true it is… So I decided to slightly embellish what I am calling:
The Whitefield Curse
Established in 1705, Bath was the first incorporated town in North Carolina. Trade was good, and this little port became a haven for up-and-coming wealth. Edward Teach, better known as the pirate Blackbeard, actually took up residence here after receiving pardon from the governor. With plenty of loot to spare, Bath developed a reputation for revelry. As is true today, expendable income leads to expandable waistlines…or worse, dancing.
It was the dancing that attracted George Whitefield to Bath. Apparently, he could forgive drunkenness, but dancing was just too much. Part of John & Charles Wesley’s Oxford Methodists, Whitefield preached a powerful gospel of grace and love coupled with strict discipleship. Of course, it’s hard to hear the love and grace part when you’re hearing a sermon called “The Eternity of Hell Torments…”
Whitefield had worked for a tavern as a teen, and his love for theatricality led him to innovate an entirely new form of delivering the Gospel. Everyone was used to preachers monotonously reading manuscripts from the church pulpit. Whitefield took the preaching to the people, memorizing his messages and loudly proclaiming them atop gravestones and coffins. He knew the effect of good acting on a crowd, so he added arm movements, changing the timbre of his voice to engage the crowds. Cross-eyed with a strong cockney accent, Whitefield could draw crowds of over 8,000 people when he came to a town. Even if people didn’t like what he had to say, they came to hear him say it because no one had ever seen anything like it.
Except Bath
The town knew that Whitefield had a lot of success turning sinners into saints. Some of the wealthier townsfolk thought this could be bad for business. Every legend about this town mentions George Whitefield traveling with his own coffin. The coffin was an object lesson: Whitefield wasn’t afraid of death, can you say you have the same assurance about your salvation? The legend also says he slept in his own coffin at night to avoid the revelry of the local inns. But when he showed up at Bath with his coffin, he was told his coffin may be put to its proper use if he stuck around too long.
Whether that’s what happened, or possibly Whitefield tried preaching at Bath several times with no results, he felt the gospel wasn’t welcome in this pirate’s town. When Jesus sent out the disciples, he said,
“If the house is worthy, give it your blessing of peace. But if the house isn’t worthy, take back your blessing. 14 If anyone refuses to welcome you or listen to your words, shake the dust off your feet as you leave that house or city. 15 I assure you that it will be more bearable for the land of Sodom and Gomorrah on Judgment Day than it will be for that city.” –Matthew 10:13-15
As he left Bath, Whitefield supposedly took off his shoes and banged the dirt off for all to see. His wounded voice booming with the cockiest cockney, “I say to the village of Bath, village you shall remain, now and forever, forgotten by men and nations until such time as it pleases God to turn the light of His countenance again upon you.” (I’m seeing the quote in all the stories, if anyone knows the primary source, let me know!).
Them’s the Breaks, Kid
And so, Bath, NC, was cursed. The city of Little Washington opened up for business just up the river. It was more accessible, taking all the business and shriveling up poor, cursed Bath. The people of Bath remembered Whitefield’s curse. Apparently, so did Whitefield, who is reported to have bragged that it was his curse that dried up the town.
Evangelical curses notwithstanding, the story of Bath is one lived over and over again, in North Carolina and around the world. Oriental, NC, is another sleepy port town cursed, not by a preacher, but by a Wal-Mart Express. The Wal-Mart came up, and the small businesses in the town shriveled up and died. And then the executives decided there wasn’t enough business and they shut down the Wal-Mart Express.
You almost wish there was a sinister curse legend that could help generate some sense or purpose.
Submitting to Be More Vile
And speaking of shriveling up local business, you can now get my book, "Submitting to Be More Vile", through Amazon.com! Please leave a review if you get it there. Otherwise, buy the book through Cokesbury or out of the coffin in the back of my car the next time you see me.
Also, the new Wesley Bros Liturgical Calendars are shipping now for only $15, with free shipping! Become a monthly Patreon supporter, and get a free liturgical calendar every year when you pledge $10 or more!
Now that I’ve shamelessly plugged how you can help me keep making these comics, I leave you with the immortal words of George Whitefield:
Come, all ye Christians of a Lukewarm Laodicean Spirit, ye Gallie‘s in Religion, who care a little, but not enough for the Things of GOD, O think, think with yourselves how deplorable it will be to lose the Enjoyment of Heaven, and run into endless Torments, merely because you will be content to be almost, and will not strive to be altogether Christians.
New Charlie Baber
The Rev. Charlie Baber, author of Wesley Bros cartoon.
When not drawing the Wesley Bros cartoon, the Rev. Charlie Baber, a United Methodist deacon, serves as youth minister at University United Methodist Church in Chapel Hill, N.C. His cartoon appears on United Methodist Insight by special arrangement.