David Brainerd was born, 1718, at Haddam, Connecticut. His parents were farmers and belonged to the local Congregational Church. They were Puritans, taught their children the Westminster Shorter Catechism, and kept the Lord's Day with care. This strict upbringing gave David a sober outlook on life, one that approaching events would greatly heighten.

At the age of 8, he lost his father. By 15, he was an orphan. But as heartbreaking as these losses were, another evil was descending upon him, one not lifting for more than 5 years: a sense of sin and misery. "I was much dejected; kept much alone; and sometimes envied the birds and beasts their happiness, because they were not exposed to eternal misery, as I was". On one of his nocturnal strolls, he recorded, "I remember in particular, when I was walking solitarily abroad, I had opened to me such a view of sin, that I feared the ground would cleave asunder under my feet, and become my grave; and would send my soul quick into hell, before I could get home. Though I was forced to go to bed, lest my distress should be discovered by others, which I must feared, yet I scarcely durst sleep at all, for I thought it would be a great wonder if I should be out of hell in the morning".

Brainerd felt the need of salvation, but had no idea about its way. And so, he began trying to save himself. But how?

He first tried good works. Thornbury describes his regimen: "He abandoned those of his own age, and associated himself with "grave, elderly people"; he spent much time every day in prayer and other secret duties; he read the Bible through twice in less than a year; he gave great attention to the public preaching of the Gospel and tried to retain all he could from the pastor's sermons. On Sabbath evenings, he met with other young people to engage in `religious exercise', and as soon as the meetings were over he would "repeat the discourses" of the day to himself. At the end of the Lord's day he strove to meditate on all he had learned during the day and Monday evenings found him "recollecting" the same themes". But the more he did, the more frustrated he became. He thought God was being "hard" on him by not respecting his considerable zeal. This ugly spirit only increased his sense of alienation. He found, in the words of Toplady,

"Not the labors of my hands,

can fulfill Thy law's demands"

But if good works wouldn't avail, maybe "good feelings" would. He reasoned something like this: God promises to "give grace to the humble". If, therefore, he could sufficiently abase himself, God would be obliged to save him. And so he tried, and tried, and tried some more. But every time he seemed to be truly humble, it occurred to him that this very feeling was produced by pride!

His sense of humility was further wounded by reading the Bible, especially Romans 9:21, "Does not the potter have power over the clay, from the same lump to make one vessel for honor and another for dishonor?" "I could not bear--he wrote--that it should be wholly at God's pleasure to save or to damn me, just as He would. It was a constant vexation to me. Reading or meditating on this, always destroyed my good frames, for when I thought I was almost humbled, and almost resigned, this passage would make my enmity to the sovereignty of God appear".

Young David learned another lesson, this time, in the words of Edward Mote,

"I dare not trust the sweetest frame"

Well, if good works and warm feelings could not save Brainerd, what could? God's grace!

On another late-night walk, he was struck by a couple of thoughts:

This greatly relieved the struggling sinner. He began, for the first time, to look for salvation, outside of himself. On July 12, 1739, he tells us what happened: "As I was walking in a thick, dark grove, unspeakable glory seemed to open to the view and apprehension of my soul...I stood still, wondered, and admired...my soul rejoiced with joy unspeakable to see such a God, such a glorious Divine Being; and I was inwardly pleased that He should be God over all for ever and ever...I had no thought, at first, of my own salvation, and scarce reflected that there was such a creature as myself..."

When Brainerd stopped looking at himself, he found God. "Look unto Me and be saved" is the prophetic word.

David Brainerd was a "new creature; old things passed away, all things became new". From this day on, he was brought--in his own words--to "a hearty disposition to exalt the Lord and to aim at His honor and glory as king of the universe".

At the age of 21 (very late in those days), Brainerd entered Yale College for the purpose of preparing himself for the Gospel ministry. The nest three years would be a bittersweet time.

On the positive side, he excelled at his studies, and stood at the head of his class. But despite his heavy work-load, he did not neglect "the one thing needful". His early manhood was marked by an abounding sense of sin, coupled with a greater sense of grace. One of his entries will illustrate: "In my morning exercises, my soul was exceedingly melted, and bitterly mourned over my exceeding sinfulness of sin." But later that day, he would write, "My soul was carried forth in love to God and had a lively sense of God's love for me". These years also saw his love for man grow. Jonathan Edwards wrote of his young friend: "He dearly loved all mankind and longed that they would enjoy what he enjoyed". These days were so happy, in fact, that Brainerd called them "a little resemblance of heaven".

But the college years were not unmixed with sorrow. He became sick, and started the vomiting of blood that would eventually kill him. But worse than this was the deplorable standards then maintained at the college. The students were worldly minded, proud, and in love with money. Thus Brainerd had few if any friends among his classmates. But worst of all was the haughtiness of his tutors.

At chapel one morning, Mr. Whittlesey prayed with unusual fervor. Afterwards, Brainerd was asked (in private) what he thought of the man. He replied, "He has no more grace than this chair". When Whittlesey heard the report, he had his student expelled for insubordination. Brainerd tried repeatedly to "make things right", but to no avail. Whittlesey, and the Rector, Thomas Clap, remained firm in their decision. David Brainerd, though the top student in his class, would never gain his hard-earned diploma.

(Brainerd would later deeply regret and publicly confess his youthful pride. And, although what he said was wrong, surely the "punishment did not fit the crime").

After leaving Yale, Brainerd took up residence with the Rev. Jedediah Mills, an aged and godly man. Under his tutelage, David excelled all the more in his studies and devotion. It was here that his calling started to come into focus.

He opened his work, deep in the forests, about 18 miles west of Albany, New York. He obtained a translator and began urging a tribe of Indians to find rest in Jesus Christ. His method was worth noting:

This first mission, among the Kaunaumeek Indians lasted about one year. It produced no spectacular results, but one--I think--impressive one. When Brainerd informed his Indians that he must reach other tribes for the Gospel too, they besought him to stay. "Now that we have heard so much about our souls' concerns, we cannot bear to be without a minister".

From Eastern New York, he would ride south to the forks of the Delaware, where other Indians would hear of God's grace. But on the way there, Brainerd was intercepted by men, carrying a note: He had just been elected pastor of the Church at East Hampton, Long Island. This was one of the largest and wealthiest churches in New England. Its pastorate would bring Brainerd wealth, respect, and the prestige Yale had robbed him of. But the great missionary was unmoved by the invitation. He was called to minister to Indians, not white men, however well-heeled. It was declined without a thought.

When Brainerd arrived on the Delaware, he was aghast at the wickedness of its residents, English and Indian alike. The former were especially averse to keeping the Sabbath holy. They were also ignorant of things Divine and unwilling to discuss them. Astonishing thought! Brainerd had received a better hearing from the savage Indians than from the "civilized Englishmen".

But if the White men were bad on the Delaware, the Redskins were worse. These tribes were unusually devoted to pagan feasts, lewdly dancing around totem poles, and the like. But worst of all, they were enchanted by their "Medicine Men" or "Powwows". These were men in consort with evil spirit and threatened to hex or poison any Indian who gave Brainerd a hearing.

But amid all the trials, Brainerd's faith waxed stronger and stronger. Being all by himself among a superstitious and violent people caused him to lean more heavily upon God. It was certain that no "gimmick" could reach these savages! And so Brainerd turned to the "weapons of our warfare", i.e., prayer, preaching, and holiness of life.

But after a year on the banks of the Delaware, David Brainerd had no converts to show for all of his efforts. Yet, oddly enough, this did not discourage him in the least. It seemed, instead, to strengthen his resolve to do the Indians good. "Last year, I longed to be prepared for a world of glory, and speedily depart out of this world; but of late all of my concern almost is for the conversion of the Heathen; and for that end, I long to live."

From the Forks of the Delaware, he moved south to Crossweeksung. And there, in 1745, he would learn "He that goes forth weeping, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him".

There he met with instant success. The first day, his preaching attracted only seven hearers. By the third day, that number had more than tripled. But the people, it seemed, were more than curious about the white man. They seemed anxious about their souls. One woman walked 15 miles a day to hear Brainerd's sermons. Several of his hearers were brought under deep conviction, "they wept and wished that Christ would save them" he noted in his journal. One woman wept that "she wished that God would change her heart"; another that "she wanted to find Christ"; and even an old chief wept bitterly because of his lost condition.

They were so anxious to hear the word that they besought the young preacher to preach twice a day!

Within weeks, Brainerd's voice was drowned out by his hearers' bitter crying and shrieks of anguish. Some even collapsed under the conviction of sin and pleaded with God for mercy.

On August 8, Brainerd wrote, "There was much visible concern among them, while I was discoursing publicly; but afterwards, when I spoke to one and another more particularly, whom I perceived under much concern, the power of God seemed to descend upon the assembly like a mighty rushing wind, and with astonishing energy, bore down all before it. I stood amazed at the influence that seized the audience almost universally, and could compare it to nothing more aptly that the irresistible force of a mighty torrent or swelling deluge, that with its insupportable weight and pressure bears down and sweeps before it whatever is in its way. Almost all persons of all ages were bowed down with concern together, and scarce one was able to withstand the shock of this surprising operation. Old men and women who had been drunken wretches for many years, and some little children not more than six or seven years of age, appeared in distress for their souls, as well as persons of middle age. And it was apparent with these children that they were not merely frighted with seeing the general concern; but were made sensible of their danger, the badness of their hearts, and their misery without Christ, as some of them expressed it. The most stubborn hearts were now obliged to bow".

This religious movement was a powerful work of God's Spirit. And this we know, not because it was attended by bodily convulsions and cries for mercy, but because of its fruit.

Brainerd, though was more than their spiritual father--he was all but their natural father as well. He not only taught them the Bible and catechism, but also passed along a considerable amount of social and scientific knowledge as well. Under his ministry, in short, the savages joined Christian civilization.

But even this success could not retain the great missionary. He sought, like Paul, to go "where Christ has not been preached". And so, he left the revival scene to reach more Indians, this time in the south-west corner of Pennsylvania.

The ride south was brutal. He was met with a violent storm, which threatened his very life. This problem was compounded by his horse eating poison and becoming too sick to ride. And so, into the teeth of a fierce wind and rainstorm, the frail missionary pushed on till he found a shelter of bark, in which he found shelter that night. At a later date, he would endure another rainstorm, this time seated in a tree.

Finally, he reached the Susquehanna, and there met a tribe of Indians unmatched in its paganism. Wild, naked, and idolatrous dances, often excited by whiskey made the other tribes seem civilized by comparison. But these people, too were reached with the Gospel. And although they were not as radically changed as the Indians on the Delaware, some success was achieved here too.

But all of the strain was too much for Brainerd's weak constitution. The travel, the storms, the cold, the heat, the poor diet, and the unceasing labor of love, finally proved too much. He rode to Northampton to visit his old friend, Jonathan Edwards. There he became bed-ridden. And there he would "breathe his last". But not before he proved to this eminently learned and judicious man the greatness of his character.

Had Brainerd lived, Edwards would have given him his favorite daughter, Jerusha, in marriage. After his death, the Great Thinker edited published Brainerd's diaries, counting it the most valuable literary work he ever accomplished.

One of his last sayings concerned the Bible. When a friend came to his room carrying the Sacred Volume, Brainerd, barely able to talk, announced in a strong voice: "O that dear book, that lovely book! I shall soon see it opened! The mysteries that are in it and the mysteries of God's providence will soon be unfolded."

David Brainerd died, October 9, 1747, aged 29 years.

A few concluding remarks on Brainerd's character, views, and work.

"His kingdom spread from shore to shore,

Till moons shall wax and wane no more".

How great must Brainerd have been if men as eminent as McCheyne, Morrison, Martyn, and even Carey, looked up to him as their example!

But he is not only an example to them, but to us as well. The life of David Brainerd ought to teach us the following: