Eight things You May Not Know About Benjamin Randall
By Eric K. Thomsen
Most of us know the “rest of the story” already, how Elder Benjamin Randall became a key figure in the birth and development of New England Free Will Baptists. In fact, we sometimes still refer to the northern movement of Free Will Baptists as Randallites in his honor. But what do you know of his earlier life? The formative years? Consider eight things about this remarkable young man who became an iconic figure of faith among Free Will Baptists.
He was the son of a sea captain. Randall was born in the little village of New Castle, New Hampshire, in February 1749, the oldest of nine children. His father was a successful sea captain, also named Benjamin. His mother Margaret was the daughter of a sea captain, making Benjamin Randall the son and grandson of sea captains.
He spent many early years at sea with his father serving as a cabin boy. He received a good education as time afforded, and everyone assumed he would grow up to command his own vessel. This assumption probably only grew stronger when he married Joanna Orm, the daughter of a sea captain.
He was a sail maker by trade...at first. At 18, at his own request, Randall was apprenticed by his father to a sailmaker in Portsmouth. He became so proficient he set up his own sail-making shop. One day, his father gifted him an expensive suit of rich, light-colored material — garments gentlemen wore in those days. Randall wore the new suit to a social gathering, where he promptly sat in a freshly painted chair, covering his new suit.
Upset and embarrassed, he returned to his apartment, took the suit apart, removed the cloth panels, turned them inside out, and sewed the suit back together. When he finished, it looked and fit better than when he received it. It was then he recognized his abilities not only as a sail maker, but also as a tailor. He later used his craft to supplement his income, just as Paul made tents to support his efforts to preach the gospel.
George Whitfield influenced his conversion to Christ. “Influenced,” because when young Randall — who was quite churched but even more unsaved — heard Whitfield preach, he rejected the message outright, scoffing at the great evangelist and his manner of preaching. The following Sunday, as Randall rode with a friend, a mounted herald (a crier) approached, shouting as he rode, “Mr. Whitfield is dead! Died this morning at Newburyport [Massachusetts] about 6 o’clock.”
The news shocked Benjamin. He said later, “As I heard that voice, an arrow from the Almighty pierced my heart.” He realized he was a sinner, only going through the motions of a religious life. Recalling a verse in Hebrews 9, he accepted Christ’s sacrifice for his sin and acknowledged Him as Savior.
He was a Congregationalist and a
Calvinist first. After conversion, Randall and his wife immediately joined the Congregational Church in New Castle, New Hampshire. To say Randall was unimpressed with the church and its minister would be an understatement. The minister showed little interest in Randall’s faith or conversion experience. Before long, Randall discovered the church was cold. Dead. Many in the congregation were unsaved. He later wrote: “The zeal, the glory, and the power of the Lord had departed.”
With the permission of the minister, he began hosting meetings where he read from the Scripture, read printed sermons, and read from godly books to a group of genuine Christians. They also sang and prayed. Before long, as you might expect, the meetings — you might as well call them services — became more popular than the dry Sunday services, creating tension between Randall and the minister. So much tension, in fact, Randall soon left the congregation.
Convinced of the biblical teaching of immersion for believers only, he was baptized by a Calvinist Particular Baptist minister in a nearby village. So, Randall became a Baptist...but he still didn’t have a church.
He served in the War for Independence. When the Revolutionary War began, Randall enlisted in the New Hampshire militia. Between engagements and official responsibilities, He continued meeting with his little “unofficial” congregation, reading sermons and Scripture. You see...
He was reluctant to be a preacher. His followers soon tired of the endless reading, and the group slowly dwindled. Finally, one stood up and said, “Mr. Randall, I am tired of hearing you read old sermons. If you will not preach to us, do leave that off and read the Bible instead.”
The words “if you will not preach to us” stuck with Randall, but he still avoided the calling to preach. Finally, one night, when he began to read yet another sermon when he knew he should be preaching himself, God’s conviction hit him so powerfully that, he later wrote,
The more I read, the more I felt the life departing, and at length I thought should I venture a line further the Lord would depart and give me up to hardness of heart....I threw down the book and broke into confession. With tears, I told the people how the Lord made it manifest to me through the last two years that it was my duty to preach the gospel. I told them I had been like Jonah who attempted to flee away from the presence of the Lord, but now I was by the grace of God, resolved to be obedient and give myself up to His service as long as I lived.
The next morning, Randall wrote out a personal covenant, in which he gave himself and his all to the Lord for sacrifice and service. And Randall kept his covenant...preaching until the final days of his life, sometimes from his sickbed.
He was a man of deep courage and conviction. And that was good, because his straightforward preaching made folks angry, from Calvinists to carousers.
Once, when asked to preach at a town some distance away, he received numerous threats against his life, if he kept his preaching appointment. His enemies raised volunteers against his preaching, and a mob of 40 men gathered at a tavern he had to pass on his way to the village to preach. The instigators had offered the roughnecks a barrel of rum to kill Randall. To this report he responded, “That is the devil’s old regiment. He raised 40 men to kill brother Paul, but he missed it then, and I believe he will now. I feel that God has called me to preach in that town, and I am resolved to go.”
And he did go! The mob showed up not long after he started preaching from Acts 13:46. Randall just kept preaching. As he preached, a fierce storm blew up, and his listeners later said it was like Mt. Sinai. As Randall preached, lightning flashed, and thunder shook the house. Yet, just as the meeting closed, the rain ceased, the thunder moved into the distance. Randall then went out and shook hands with several men in the mob. They left quietly.
He refused tax money. In 1778, with the War for Independence still raging, Randall accepted a call from the town of New Durham, New Hampshire, to be the town minister, a village chaplain. He accepted the position but refused any money gained by taxing citizens, a widely accepted custom that taxed everyone, Christian and non-Christian. Everybody was taxed to pay the preacher. Instead, Randall depended on free will gifts and offerings, worked the small farm provided, and did sailmaking and tailoring. While at New Durham, he was finally ordained. To this point, he had simply been serving as a lay minister.
And that brings us to “the rest of the story.” Randall broke completely with the Calvinist Baptists, and in 1780, he gathered like-minded believers from New Durham, New Hampshire, formed a Baptist church that believed in free will, and established the first Free Will Baptist church in the North.
I don’t know about you, but I am honored to be part of that denomination, to remember and honor Benjamin Randall and other dedicated, courageous Free Will Baptist pioneers who gave their all to establish this denomination we love.
About the Writer: Eric K. Thomsen has been the managing editor of ONE Magazine for 20 years. A member of the Free Will Baptist Historical Commission, Eric is the creator and curator of FWBHistory.com. He resides in Joelton, Tennessee, with his wife Jennifer.
