Tag Archive | missionary

Eric Liddell and the Legacy of Victorian ‘Muscular Christianity’

Christian bikers at a convention. Image: bikernet.com

Christian bikers at a convention. Image: bikernet.com

I was intrigued by a research paper from Leeds University (UK) and Christians in Sport: The Development of Muscular Christianity in Victorian Britain and Beyond. You can read the full text here.

It seems the term “muscular Christianity” was coined in the 1850s in a review of a novel by Anglican priest and author, Charles Kingsley. Across the Atlantic, Theodore Roosevelt was a keen advocate. It was an age where industry was mechanising many processes, leaving working people more time for leisure than before. There were also threats of war with several nations, and key voices of the day proclaimed the need to raise up young future leaders. These, they said, needed to combine the moral character of Christianity with physical strength and fitness.

1424409205_449e4c7593_o

A friend of Kingsley, Thomas Hughes, author of the much-loved novel Tom Brown’s Schooldays, distinguished between “musclemen” (athletes without Christian faith) and “muscular Christians”. “The only point in common between the two is that both hold it to be a good thing to have strong and well-exercised bodies. Here all likeness ends. [The Christian belief is] “that a man’s body is given him to be trained and brought into subjection, then used for the protection of the weak and the advancement of all righteous causes.”

The writers of the research paper discuss the role of Muscular Christianity thinking in, for example, the foundation of the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) and even the modern Olympic Games, begun by Baron de Coubertin in 1896. They also cover opposition to the concept by equally weighty figures like the poet Gerard Manley Hopkins, who foresaw the physical emphasis outstripping morality and the aspects of the heart.

Eric Liddell as an Olympic atthlete

The ideals of ‘Muscular Christianity’ were taken up by a number of Evangelical groups in Victorian and Edwardian times. They recognised the compatibility of sport and Christianity, but their ethos differed from Kingsley’s, which was largely liberal and high Church. As evangelicals, they emphasised that sport, though a valid recreational activity, must come second to gospel ministry.

A shining example is Eric Liddell, Olympic athlete, international rugby player, and Christian missionary. His story became widely known through the Oscar-winning film Chariots of Fire (1981). He was born in 1902 in Tianjin, China, son of a Church of Scotland missionary. At school in England he showed great athletic ability, and was the fastest man in Scotland by the time he was a student; he was nicknamed “the Flying Scotsman”, after a locomotive.

Selected for the 1924 Paris Olympics, Liddell made headlines by refusing to run in a 100 metres heat on Sunday, on conscience grounds. He was forced to withdraw from his best event. A compromise agreement let him race in the 400 metres. As he went to the starting blocks for the final, an American team masseur slipped a piece of paper into his hand with a the words: “Those who honour me I will honour” (1 Samuel 2:30). Liddell ran and won Olympic gold – but also the respect and admiration of millions.

Liddell returned to China and from 1925-43 was a missionary in Hebei province, a region of great poverty but also great danger from Japanese aggression in the run-up to World War 2. He taught in schools, coaching boys in Christian truth and in sport, and helped design a sports stadium, where he continued to run when he could.

His physical toughness and discipline were matched by iron principles. When the Japanese were attacking China, Liddell rescued two wounded Chinese soldiers, despite the significant risk involved. He refused to travel with an armed guard when visiting the sick and needy, even though he could have been shot on sight. Relying on a gun instead of God was not acceptable to him. The situation grew so dangerous that the British government advised its nationals to leave the country.  Liddell’s family left, but he stayed to work at a mission station set up to help the poor.

Liddell as a missionary to China

In 1943 he was interned by the Japanese in a large camp at Weifang. When British Prime Minister Winston Churchill heard of it, he used his influence to secure Liddell’s freedom in a prisoner exchange. But Liddell declined and instead offered his place to a pregnant woman who was also in the camp, so that not only she but also her unborn child might be spared.  This decision was especially costly since he had a wife and three daughters he had not seen in well over a year.

The bedrock of these principles is clear from something he wrote in his Morning Prayers for Schools: “Obedience to God’s will is the secret of spiritual knowledge and insight. It is not willingness to know, but willingness to DO [obey] God’s will that brings certainty.”

However, Liddell’s health was failing. What he did not know was that he had developed an inoperable brain tumour. Even so, he served tirelessly at the camp (this link gives more details). He sorted arguments by refereeing a football or hockey match! He did all he could to keep men and boys in good physical shape.  He died in 1945, honoured by all, and was buried behind the officers’ quarters. His grave was only rediscovered in 1989.

It should be noted that the Muscular Christianity ethos had serious flaws, gaps in its thinking, which could be exploited to take the movement down a wrong road. Read this well-researched piece on The Brutal Legacy of the Muscular Christian Movement.

 

 

Advertisements

Mothering the Chinese Churches: the Courage of Marie Monsen

Image: rcmi.wordpress.com

Chinese Christian women at prayer today.   Image: rcmi.wordpress.com

Marie Monsen (1878-1962) is a name held in high honour among Christians in China, yet she is barely known in the West, even in her native Norway.

In 1900, a nationalist uprising in China, the ‘Boxer Rebellion‘, had seen many foreign missionaries slaughtered. Suspicion and fear were everywhere. Even so, Monsen travelled alone to Henan province in September 1901, to work for the Lutheran China Mission Association. Not long after her arrival, she fell down some stairs and hit her head so hard that she was unconscious several days. The trauma left her unable to study language for two years. For six years she suffered debilitating headaches, as well as dysentery, malaria, pain, and frustration. The first 20 years of her service were God’s learning curve for her, causing her to be constantly aware of her weakness and to cast herself on Him in constant dependence. Marie learned the power of endurance. This blog post from Sarah Alexander gives more details.

Monsen’s devotional life was her mainstay. taken to a new level in the 1927 Shantung Revival. She had an uncanny sense that the Lord was directing her, speaking clearly in words that seemed almost audible. She sensed that God intended to move powerfully in China, and she prayed fervently for 20 years until it began in Shantung in 1927 – a revival that is still continuing and is being called ‘the biggest revival in history‘. In order to serve her Lord better, she remained a lifelong celibate. She also endured severe trials with fortitude and trust.

600055_3242881005596_205895015_n

Her courage was remarkable. She was fearless, traveling hundreds of miles through bandit-infested territory to share the gospel. Once, the ship she was on was captured by pirates. When an invading army of looters was ravaging a whole city, Monsen urged the Christians not to fear but to pray; the looters were prevented from coming near her mission compound because of angels standing sentry over it! This and many more examples can be found in her book A Present Help: Standing on the Promises of God.

She was no respecter of persons: she would tell church leaders to their face that they were hypocrites! A present-day house church leader writes: ‘She didn’t speak smooth words to impress the people. Instead, she brought fire from the altar of God.’  She took the emphasis off the human wisdom so prized by Chinese, and showed each person they were individually responsible before God for their own inner spiritual life. For this she was greatly loved, and church leaders saw her as ‘mother in Christ’.

Monsen was bold enough to say no to prospective baptism candidates on occasions. She discouraged ‘cultural’ emotion (Chinese weep easily). She cared nothing for numbers, but wanted to be sure each soul had left the way of destruction and truly encountered God. Don’t gather unripe fruit was a maxim of hers.

When she died, Monsen was buried in at Solheim cemetery in Bergen, Norway. In his best-selling book The Heavenly Man, a leader of the Chinese house church movement, Brother Yun, tells of how Chinese believers were incredulous to find that Marie Monsen’s grave in Denmark was unmarked. So they made the need known and donations came in, such that in 2001 a monument was erected to one of God’s outstanding (but humble) warrior women.

‘Chocolate Soldiers’? The Tough Christianity of C T Studd

Image: deeperchristian.com

Image: deeperchristian.com

Some wish to live within the sound of church or chapel bell; I want to run a rescue shop within a yard of Hell!

So wrote the famous missionary from Northamptonshire, Charles Thomas Studd (1860-1931). He was from a privileged background and had played cricket for England in the 1882 match won by Australia, which was the origin of Ashes.

A year later, he heard the American evangelist D L Moody at Cambridge and was deeply convicted of God’s claim on his life. With six friends, Studd pledged his life to the gospel of Jesus Christ. If Jesus Christ be God and died for me, then no sacrifice can be too great for me to make for Him, he declared. As proof of ‘burning his boats’, he waived his right to a considerable fortune. In 1885, the “Cambridge Seven” set off for China.  It was a high-profile action by some of the cream of England’s youth, and it made a great impression.

Studd in the Congo

Studd in the Congo

For the rest of his life, Studd worked hard on the mission field in China, India, Sudan and the Belgian Congo (now Democratic Republic of Congo). His wife Priscilla worked tirelessly to promote the missions back in Britain. It was Studd himself, however, who made the biggest noise through his writings – and one in particular: The Chocolate Soldier. It is a rallying cry to rank alongside William Booth’s Darkest England.

Heroism is the lost chord of present-day Christianity, he writes. Then, with exquisite irony, he likens Western Christians to chocolate Christians, dissolving in water and melting at the smell of fire. Sweeties they are! Lollipops! Living their lives in a cardboard box, each clad in his frilled white paper to preserve his dear, delicate constitution. He parodies the great martial hymn ‘Onward, Christian Soldiers’ in a “chocolate” version:

Mark time, Christian heroes, never go to war. Stop and mind the babies, playing on the floor…

Studd echoes a concern of his day, that increased leisure was feminising young men; and he points a finger of blame at self-satisfied and risk-averse Christianity. Many fine youngsters are turned into chocolates by ‘old prophets’ – preachers who have lost their fire [referring to an episode in 1 Kings 13].

In his cricketing days

In his cricketing days


By contrast, Studd made it his practice to take the costly way, so he could model it for others. To him, Christians are the true heroes: braver than the bravest, scorning the soft seductions of peace and her oft repeated warnings against hardship, disease, danger and death, whom he counts among his bosom friends. So he lived in a mud hut, refused vacations and would not be hindered by disease or disappointment. His motto (which was later expanded into a hymn) was: “Only one life,‘twill soon be past; and only what’s done for Christ will last.”

This fired the imagination of hundreds back home, who came to find him in Africa and sit at his feet. From these, Studd believed a muscular succession would come, carrying the same spirit that had always gripped him. I will blaze the trail, he wrote, though my grave may only become a stepping stone that younger men may follow.

We ought not to forget the equally brave sacrifice made by Studd’s wife, Priscilla. Unable to travel with him on account of their four daughters, she chose before God not to impede him on his course, but to stay home, pray, and fund-raise for him – and rely on letters from the ‘front’!

%d bloggers like this: