Article
Change
Grace
Music
6 min read

Aside from Amazing Grace

Helping win a historic victory for humanity was an influencer with a shocking back story. Biographer Jonathan Aitken discovers there’s more to John Newton than penning Amazing Grace.

Jonathan is a former politician, and now a prison chaplain.

Statue of John Newton

John Newton is back in the news. 250 years ago in January 1773 he wrote the words of what has become the most recorded, performed and loved hymn of all time – Amazing Grace. 

As a popular song it is right up there competing with Happy Birthday and I’m Dreaming of a White Christmas. And the spiritual power of its lyrics shines out at an estimated ten million annual weddings, funerals, celebrations and services across the world. 

As a biographer of John Newton I have paradoxical feelings about Amazing Grace.  I love the hymn as much as anyone particularly when it brings tears in the prison chapels where I serve as a chaplain.   

Yet for historical reasons I am disappointed on this great man’s behalf that he is largely remembered only for this hymn.   

For there is much more to John Newton than Amazing Grace. 

For starters he was so close a mentor to William Wilberforce, and so important a witness as an ex-slave ship captain to the horrors of the evil trade, that without Newton the Abolition of Slavery Act 1807 would never have won the necessary Parliamentary votes to pass into law. 

If this great historical achievement was not enough Newton’s colourful back story was the stuff of which best sellers and movies came to be made. 

In his wild youth Newton was a serial rebel.  He ran away from home, church, school and military service.  He was jailed and publicly flogged for desertion from the Royal Navy. 

After being thrown out of the Navy he ended up working as a slave trader in West Africa. 

There the hard drinking, riotous and ruthless young Newton indulged in every imaginable vice.  His business as a brutal kidnapper of natives, whom he sold to slave ships, made him a fortune.  

Then came a dramatic change, Newton got religion.  This happened on the 9th of March 1748.  Newton was on board a ship, The Greyhound, in the middle of the Atlantic Ocean. Suddenly a massive storm wave hit the ship and almost broke it apart.  Newton was roused from sleep by a cry of “all hands on deck, the ship is sinking.”   

The storm of gale force winds which ripped a huge hole in The Greyhound lasted for the next seven days.  For most of that time Newton, a strong young seaman, took the helm.  He was certain that he and everyone else on board would be drowned.  In desperation he remembered some of the prayers he had learned from his mother, in his childhood, and started to pray for God to save his life. 

So when, against all the odds, The Greyhound did not sink and limped into the Port of Londonderry, Newton decided that perhaps there might be a God and began going to church. 

Although Newton did start praying and reading his Bible, he did not stop slave trading.  Promoted to being a slave ship Captain he made five further voyages to West Africa.  On his ships he indulged in many of the vicious cruelties that characterised the slave trade. 

Newton kept diaries of these horrors which included chaining, shackling, flogging, thumb screwing and throwing overboard the slaves during their long and dangerous voyage from the West Coast of Africa to the East Coast of America. 

Yet gradually, his self-educating Bible study and some teaching from Christian friends caused Newton to see the light. He gave up the slave trade.  He got a good shore job in his home port of Liverpool, a city which was being targeted by Methodist preachers such as Wesley and Whitefield. 

Newton, by now a soul on fire, became a preacher in dissenter chapels in Lancashire and Yorkshire.   

After some years he applied for ordination in the Church of England.  But he was turned down for ordination seven times in six years by various Bishops and Archbishops.  

These rejections had nothing to do with Newton’s sinful past career as a slave ship Captain.  For in the 18th Century, the Church of England was not merely tolerant of the slave trade.  It reaped many benefits from its large investments in it and the large donations it received from it. All documented in a recent Lambeth Palace Library exhibition.  

Astonishingly the reason why Newton was turned down for ordination was because he was thought to have ‘too much enthusiasm’.  

This was a coded phrase meaning that he was felt to be too close to the Methodists whose evangelical preaching and hymn singing was disapproved of by the established church hierarchy. 

But with the help of an admiring patron, the Earl of Dartmouth, Newton was ordained as a Church of England priest and appointed to a Dartmouth living at Olney church in Buckinghamshire. 

As a Parish Priest Newton was a huge success.  He trebled the size of his congregation to over 600 worshippers.  As a result, the church had to build a gallery to accommodate them. 

But his biggest break through was that Newton started writing articles, books and hymns. These bought him fame and a move to the strategically important church of St. Mary Woolnoth in the heart of the City of London. 

During his 28 years of service there, Newton continued to be a best-selling author, a campaigner for social reforms and a renowned preacher.  Influential people flocked to hear his sermons including an unknown young MP called William Wilberforce. 

Wilberforce first approached Newton to ask him to resolve what the young MP called “my anguish of soul”.  He said he wanted to give up being a Member of Parliament in order to become a Minister of Religion.   

Newton persuaded Wilberforce that it would be better for him to serve God by staying in Parliament. After taking that wise advice, Wilberforce developed a close friendship and mentoring relationship with Newton. 

During the next 15 years there were periods when Wilberforce became depressed and wanted to give up his abolitionist campaign. It was Newton who persuaded him to keep going.   

More importantly Newton became Wilberforce’s most vital witness about the horrors of the slave trade in front of a Select Committee in the House of Commons and in front of William Pitt and his Cabinet. 

Newton’s authentic eye witness accounts of the suffering of the Africans on board slave ships were devastating.   

His evidence and his best-selling pamphlet Thoughts on the African Slave Trade were game changers. Gradually the tide of public and parliamentary opinion turned against the slave trade.  Eventually in 1807 when 82 year old Newton was still the Rector of St. Mary Woolnoth,  William Wilberforce’s Abolition of Slavery Bill was voted into law by the House of Commons by 283 votes to 16. 

It was an historic victory for humanity.  And a political triumph for William Wilberforce.  But that victory and that triumph would never have been achieved without John Newton’s mentoring, supporting and his giving of vital evidence to Wilberforce’s campaign. 

In his last years John Newton was venerated as an iconic church leader, bestselling author, and abolitionist reformer. 

Surprisingly, he was not well known in his lifetime for Amazing Grace which only became famous when American churches took it up and made it an anthem of the Civil Rights Movement.  So Newton was regarded as a great man long before he was recognised as a great hymn writer. 

Fame was of little interest to John Newton.  He remained endearingly humble.  When he was on his deathbed the 18th century equivalent of a tabloid reporter burst into his bedroom and asked:

“Any last words Mr Newton?” 

He replied:

“Sir I know only two things. That I am a great sinner and that Christ is a great Saviour!” 

What an exit line!  What a life! 

Article
Christmas culture
Culture
Development
Music
6 min read

Band Aid: that song, that question

What’s so funny about generosity, kindness and compassion?

Krish is a social entrepreneur partnering across civil society, faith communities, government and philanthropy. He founded The Sanctuary Foundation.

Pop stars sing together while recording a charity single.
Recording the original Band Aid track.

Sometimes a three-minute pop song really can change lives. I should know because 40 years ago a Radio One DJ played a song that changed my life.  

I was 12 years old, growing up in relative comfort in Brighton, when I heard the song “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” by Band Aid play for the first time on the radio. I remember being moved by the lyrics:

"There's a world outside your window, and it's a world of dread and fear, where the only water flowing is the bitter sting of tears." 

As I reflected on the song, I was overwhelmed by the great inequalities in the world. I had food on the table every day, while people in other parts of the world were struggling to survive without even the most basic of necessities.  I had felt so desperate watching Michael Buerk’s TV reports of children suffering in the devastating “biblical” famine in Ethiopia: suddenly, with this song, I was struck by the realisation that perhaps there was something I could do to make a difference, after all.  

As a child, I did what Bob Geldof encouraged me to do: I bought the single, wore the T-shirt, and contributed some of my pocket-money. But it didn’t stop there. As Band Aid turned into Live Aid - a global concert featuring my then favourite band, U2 - I felt that the direction of my life was shifting also. I began to ask questions about what I wanted to do with my life and where I could be most effective in tackling global injustice and inequality.   

I still find myself asking the same questions today, as well as an additional one – has my life over the past 40 years made the difference I wanted it to make? This is exactly the challenge being put to Band Aid. As the world remembers the fortieth anniversary of “Do They Know It’s Christmas?” with the re-release of the single, could it have fresh impact on a new generation, and was it even effective the first time around?  

There are important lessons to learn from Band Aid about whether such initiatives are the intended impact, but often the critiques quickly become excuses not to get involved.  I’d like to look at three of those critiques to see if there is any truth in them – and if they can provoke us into doing more, not less, for the cause of global security in general, and international child welfare in particular.  

I might not agree with everything about the song, but I certainly believe in the power of guitars over guns. I’d rather see meaningful music influence our world than military force any day.

The first is that the way Africa is portrayed is more harmful than helpful.  

While well-intentioned, the depiction of Africa in the Band Aid song, and to be honest, in most charity fundraisers for causes within Africa, has served to perpetuate harmful stereotypes. They paint an oversimplified, monolithic image of Africa as a place of unrelenting despair and degradation, with images of starving children that are supposed to stick in our minds – and do.  

Hans Rosling, in his book Factfulness, surveyed global perceptions of Africa and found that most people vastly overestimate the level of poverty. Because media and charity campaigns rarely show the thriving urban centres, technological advancements, or educated professionals that also define Africa, we are given a one-dimensional narrative that actually dehumanizes African people and perpetuates an “us vs. them” mindset where the West are depicted as saviours to helpless African victims.  

The truth is far more nuanced. Yes, poverty and tragedy exist, but Africa is also home to modern skyscrapers in cities like Lagos, bustling malls in Nairobi, and world-class stadiums in South Africa. Despite underestimating the development of Africa, we should also be careful of measuring success on how many modernised metropoles we can find there. I have been to villages in Uganda, some far off the beaten track, which, while appearing relatively impoverished on the surface, are deeply rich in culture and community. They are aspirational in many ways, where children grow up in the security that extended family can offer.   

To portray an entire continent solely through images of suffering is neither accurate nor fair. We – I include myself – still have so much to learn, both about Africa and from the African people.  

Then there’s that question. Do they know it’s Christmas? Yes, they do. 

The question at the heart of the song—whether Africans know it’s Christmas—has always been problematic.  Across Africa, there are over 730 million Christians, many of whom practice their faith with vibrant passion. Not only do they know it’s Christmas, but in many cases, their faith is lived out more actively than by their fellow Christians in Western nations. 

Christians across Africa are often at the forefront of societal change, leading in politics, science, and development. From presidents to Nobel Prize winners, their work is rooted in faith and a commitment to their communities. Suggesting otherwise is not only inaccurate but also dismissive of their contributions. 

The question needs to be turned back on ourselves: do we know it’s Christmas? Have we added so much tinsel, glitter, sentimentality and consumerism to Christmas that we have lost sight of the incarnation at the heart of the Christmas story – God, seeing a broken world, sent his Son to walk alongside humanity and offer hope and redemption? Jesus crossed the greatest of cultural boundaries to become one of us and live with us, before paying the ultimate price and dying for us. If we really knew this sort of Christmas, what would this mean for the rest of our lives? 

Finally, there’s the problem with the white saviour complex. 

Recent critiques, including Ed Sheeran’s reflections on his involvement in charity work, have highlighted the dangers of the “white saviour complex.” This isn’t just about race—it’s about the mindset that Westerners so often have – that we bring the solutions because those in developing nations lack the knowledge, experience, or ability to help themselves. 

Sheeran himself faced backlash for trying to assist street children during a Comic Relief project, inadvertently causing harm despite good intentions. Imposing solutions from the outside often overlooks the complexities of local contexts and risks reinforcing imbalances of power. Sometimes our good intentions lead to bad interventions. Sometimes they exacerbate problems that were historically caused by the Western nations in the first place - colonialism, resource exploitation, and the arbitrary drawing of borders, for example.   

This cannot be an excuse to do nothing. This is a vital lesson in collaborating better with our African counterparts before we dare to suggest ways forward. “Nothing about us without us” is a principle many modern charities embrace so that solutions are co-designed with the communities they aim to help, ensuring that aid empowers rather than dehumanizes.  

The generosity at the heart of the Band Aid initiative, the desire to show kindness and compassion – and inspire kindness and compassion in others, was an incredible message of hope. It changed my life 40 years ago. Perhaps, as I continue my reflections, it will change my life again. I might not agree with everything about the song, but I certainly believe in the power of guitars over guns. I’d rather see meaningful music influence our world than military force any day. I don’t mind whether movements for positive change are instigated by musicians or politicians.  

Most importantly for me, wherever there is conflict, I pray that the real meaning of Christmas will be discovered.  

​​​​​​​Join with us - Behind the Seen

Seen & Unseen is free for everyone and is made possible through the generosity of our amazing community of supporters.

If you’re enjoying Seen & Unseen, would you consider making a gift towards our work?

Alongside other benefits (book discounts etc.), you’ll receive an extra fortnightly email from me sharing what I’m reading and my reflections on the ideas that are shaping our times.

Graham Tomlin

Editor-in-Chief