In the year 1828 a man sat in a room in Teignmouth, England, struggling with a problem. A German, George Muller was then 23 years old. His father was a collector of excise taxes in Prussia, and the son had inherited the father’s preoccupation with figures, his adding-machine mind, his astute business sense. During this period in England the Industrial Revolution was well under way. George Muller felt he could become a successful industrialist. Yet he hesitated.
Only three years out of the University at Halle, George had been mostly preoccupied with taverna, women, cards and occasional study. He certainly had not been at all interested in religion. Then there had come a turning point. It had come through Muller’s unexpected discovery one night at a friend’s party that he could have fun in a Christian group – a different, deeper kind of pleasure than he found in his favourite tavern.
To his own surprise, George Muller began to think about the meaning of life. Often he pondered the fact that all through the Gospels there kept recurring Jesus’ plea for us to have faith, to ask…ask…ask:
Hitherto you have asked nothing in my name;
ask and you will receive, that your joy may be full. (John 16:24 Moffat)
Had Christ meant those words literally? If so, then why – generation after generation – did mankind continue to ignore them or water them down?
Muller thought of several individuals he had recently met. One was a man who had to work at his trade fourteen to sixteen hours a day. He had no time for his family, no time to enjoy life. Concerned, Muller had spoken to him only a week before: “Henry, you simply have to work less. Your family needs something more of you than your pay. Your body’s suffering and your soul is starving.”
But the reply had been, “But if I work less, I won’t earn enough for the support of my family.”
When Muller had quoted him the promise,”Seek ye first the Kingdom of God, and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added unto you,” (Matthew 6:33) Henry had said with a wry grimace, “I wish I could believe that applies to my situation, George. guess I just need more faith.”
Muller now sat chin in hand, staring out the second-storey window over the chimney-pots of the town to the sea in the distance, foaming and curling at the base of the red cliffs of Parson Rock. But he was not seeing the beauty of a sunset on Teignmouth’s coast now. Instead he was thinking of an old woman, Marie, so frightened of old age without a pension, so terrified of the poorhouse waiting for her at the end of the road. Where was her faith in God’s ability to take care of her? And then he was thinking of Lawrence, a man now in his early thirties and in a business he hated. But he dared not switch to where his heart was – medicine. “How would I take care of my family while I complete my studies?” He too had merely shrugged when Muller had mentioned faith in God as the solution.
So what could he – George Muller – do about it? How could he define this matter of faith and prove to these people that Jesus had meant it when He bade us ask.
At that moment he saw through the window two ragged little girls on the cobblestone walk. He had seen them before. Their father was a merchant seamen whose ship had been lost last year off Desolation Island in the Magellan Straits. Two weeks ago their mother had died of tuberculosis. Muller recalled the pathetic funeral, the raw pine casket, the lost look on the faces of the children. He knew that the eleven-and-thirteen-year-old girls were trying to take care of three younger children. And these were not the only destitute children in the town, either. There seem to be no institutions for needy children in England. He wondered why not?
The thought went round and round. And then he notices his Bible open on the table beside him. It was open to the Psalms: suddenly he was reading a verse he had never noticed before: “Open thy mouth wide, and I will fill it:(Psm 81:10) Muller suddenly found himself quietly praying, “All right, I’m opening my mouth to ask. If you want me to do something about all this, You’ll have to show me how and where to begin.”
He began by offering his services to a local mission. His drive and imagination soon revitalised it. The records show that he met and married Mary Groves in 1830. The two of them consecrated their marriage vows with a rather remarkable demonstartion of Jesus’ words ..
“Sell what you possess and give it away in alms…”(Luke 12:33 Moffat)
Just so, did George and Mary part with their household goods. Like many daring experiments, Muller wanted to go all the way. His desire was to make himself and his wife dependent for everything on God alone. Their motive was sincere, above all suspicion. At the time he and his wife kept the act of giving away their possessions a secret from all who knew them.
The next step was even more daring. Muller refuses all regular salary from the people of the small mission he had been serving. He and his wife would hencforth tell their needs to God alone in prayer. Theirs would be a test case for the world to see.
Then George found his thoughts centering on the idea of founding an orphan’s home. It would not be just a place to care for a few homeless children, but a vast institution – and operated on faith. He would make it, too, a pure example of trust in God.
On April 21, 1836, the first Orphan Home was dedicated in a rented building. Within a matter of days there were forty-three children to be cared for. Muller and his co-workers decided that the controlled experiment would be set u along these lines:
1. No funds would ever be solicited. No facts or figures concerning needs were to be revealed by the workers in the orphanage to anyone, except to God in prayer.
2. No debts would ever be incurred. The burden of experiment would therefore not be on local shopkeepers or suppliers.
3. No money contributed for a specific purpose could ever be used for any other purpose.
4. All accounts would be audited annually by professional auditors.
5. No ego-pandering by publication of donor’s names with the amount of their gifts; each donor would be thanked privately.
6. No “names” of prominent or titled persons would be sought for the board of to advertise the institution.
7. The success of the institution would be measured not by the numbers served of by the amounts of money taken in, but by God’s blessing on the work, which Muller expected to be in proportion to the time spent in prayer.
When the first building was opened, George Muller and his associates stuck to their principles, spending time in prayer that ordinarily would have gone to fund-raising. An unbelieving public was amazed when a second building was opened six months after the first. Muller concentrated on prayer, and the money kept coming in. Eventually, there were five new buildings, with 110 helpers taking care of 2,050 orphans.
Before opening his first orphanage Muller had said that he would consider the experiment a failure if ever the orphans had to go for a single day without food. They never did. Nor were these children taken care of in minimal fashion. Part of George Muller’s conviction was that God not only provides, but that He provides bountifully. For their time, his orphanage buildings were constructed with remarkable details – built-in cupboards with a large pigeonhole for each child’s clothes; sunny playrooms with shelves and cupboards for the toys that were not yet there. Each child must always have not one but three pairs of shoes. Each boy, three suits; each girl, five dresses. There must always be white tablecloths for the evening meal and flowers whenever possible. Behind the scenes were the latest labour-saving devices available; one of the first American washing machines in England and an early type of centrifugal dryer.
After each year’s audit a detailed report was made public showing how the Lord had provided for that year. Soon it became apparent that all around the world people were watching this experiment with fascination. The results of his amazing orphanage experiment have been published in detail in the four volumes of George Muller’s Journals For more than sixty years he recorded every specific prayer request and the result. His mathematical mind kept meticulous books on every penny received and all money expended
So great did public interest in the orphanage become that, when Muller was seventy, he felt that the time had come to tell the story himself. So over a number of years he travelled 200,000 miles, lecturing in forty two countries. For hundreds of thousands of people he became a living demonstration of the fact that faith is nothing more of less than believing God, not just intellectually but actually.
Faith is only worthy of the name when it erupts into action. Unlike George Muller, most of us can show few trophies won through faith. Were we to use the muscles of our legs as little as we do the muscles of our faith, most of us would be unable to stand
Catherine Marshall