1,800 Years in 1,000 Pages

'Tis the season, and I'm scheduled to be among the instructors for ten Perspectives on the World Christian Movement courses in five states (North and South Carolina, Virginia, Georgia, and Oklahoma).

Lest you think this makes me some kind of public-speaking celebrity, let me assure you that the pay is low and the pool of possible speakers small (drawing as it does from among those who are in some sense practioners of what they teach and also able to take the time away from their regular jobs to teach it). Plus, the people who book speakers are looking for diverse voices -- a different speaker each week, for starters -- who represent somewhat varied demographics, affiliations, and institutions. As an experienced, female speaker who wants to teach, gets positive reviews, lives in a region where the number of classes is growing, and comes from a well-known mission organization, I get plenty of invitations.

I planned to accept six for this semester but a seventh came along that fit in easily enough, and then, last week, a "loop" of three big classes who had a speaker cancel asked me if I could make it there to do my favorite lesson. So I said yes, and now I'm up to ten. Gulp.

Six of these ten times I'll be teaching a lesson called "Expansion of the World Christian Movement," an audacious piece of work that involves covering 2,000 years in just under two hours, and trying to weave one's own experiences and interests into a model of history that's, well, a bit out of step with the historical record. Honoring the students means leaving out great swaths of material, adding in some fun stuff, throwing in discussion questions, stopping for breath, and trying not to cast more than mild aspersions on some of the odd claims in their textbook that are likely to show up on a test.

The other nights I'll be teaching a lesson called "Pioneers of the World Christian Movement." That one is less daunting. It focuses on a handful of personalities, all coming from traditions not unfamiliar to the students. I get to tell their stories and a few others, helping the students explore their ideas and contributions.

Since I'm teaching so many history classes this time around, I decided to revise my lesson plans. Mostly by doing my best to confirm (and if necessary, drop or alter) the statements and stories I've gathered from many sources over many years. To facilitate this, I'm also taking a class. The dean of the school of intercultural studies is a pretty good historian and has similar interests. As an alumna, I can audit his history class for free. Since we live on campus, it's not inconvenient to pop up to the seminary one afternoon a week for lectures.

What's even more helpful, though, is the text. I spent a good chunk of December and January reading volume one, used for last semester, and am now halfway through semester's main text, volume two of  History of the World Christian Movement. Each volume is about 500 pages long. They are woefully (though evidentlly intentionally) short on footnotes and quotes from original sources, but other than that, pretty solid. Not an easy read, though. My head is swimming a bit. If covering 1,800 years of global Christian history in 1,000 pages is challenging my capacity to absorb data, it may be a good reminder to go easy on my own students, some of whose academic experience is less or long ago.

I'm hoping to blog a few stories from this book and class and/or what I discover in revising my teaching plans. Meanwhile, here's my speaking schedule, if you're interested.


SUNDAY February 11 in Winston-Salem, NC (Calvary Baptist Church)
THURSDAY February 15 in Greenville, SC (Mitchell Road Presbyterian Church)
MONDAY February 19 in Cornelius, NC (Life Fellowship)
TUESDAY February 20 in Charlotte, NC (Calvary Church)
MONDAY February 26 Newport News, VA (First Church of Port Warwick)
MONDAY March 5 in Stillwater, OK (Countryside Baptist Church)
TUESDAY March 6 in Oklahoma City, OK (Crosstown Church)
WEDNESDAY March 7 in Tulsa, OK (Asbury United Methodist)
MONDAY March 19 in Florence, SC (Church at Sandhurst)
MONDAY March 26 in Athens, GA (Living Hope Church)

More about Lilias Trotter: newsletters, show and tell, and single women on short-term teams

As I mentioned briefly in The Legacy of Lilias Trotter, Lilias served in and around Algiers, on the coast of North Africa, with easy access to Europe. In contrast with some other pioneering missionaries (say, David Livingstone, who famously dropped off the radar and refused to go back to England when he was finally found) Lilias made time for public speaking tours, refreshing vacations in the Alps, mission conferences, and Keswick conventions. Keeping up with her contacts in Europe does not seem to have dampened her commitment to Africa or her appreciation of Arab ways and mindsets. And the ministry seems to have benefited a great deal through her connections.

The growth and support of the ministry may have owed something to her faithfulness in sending what we now call prayer letters:

“At the beginning of 1907 Lilias started the habit of sending out a bi-monthly prayer circular to a large group of friends in England and France. They were beautifully written and illustrated and, no doubt, greatly increased the volume of believing prayer that ascended to God at that time; and all this tied in with what she had been learning the past few months, for God was about to send new workers and open new doors of opportunity in a remarkable way” (Patricia St. John, Until the Day Breaks, p. 118).

Around that time, Lily got a letter from a friend letting her know that a two ships carrying some 600 American delegates to Rome for an international Sunday School convention would be stopping in Algiers for a few hours. The leader was hoping they could stop in and meet with missionaries in Algiers and learn about the work. Sounds like Lilias was felt pressured to sum up her work in such a short visit, and embarrassed that they didn’t have schools, hospitals, and what she calls "the ordinary outworks of a Mission Station to show,” but she told them they could have the chance to see a work just at its beginnings and carefully prepared an engaging, hands-on exhibition that introduced the visitors to some of those they were serving among and showed their work at its best advantage.

When an offering was later taken, that short shore excursion would bring in full funding for five women who arrived to begin work in that year (Rockness, A Passion for the Impossible, p. 199; St. John, p. 119).

A few years later, in 1911, Lily used a summer visit to England to recruit short-term missionaries, “educated girls who could ‘come on a self-supporting basis for a time of service in all the countless ways in which such can be rendered with a small knowledge of the language, if hands and hearts are ready.’”

The short-term mission movement would not take off for another 50 years or more and I’m not sure what other early models may have existed. But a steady stream of young ladies-of-leisure came to Algiers for periods of different lengths until World War I interfered. Lilias, who would have been in her late fifties at this point, seems to have enjoyed having the young people around (Rockness, p. 200).

The tributes that came in after Lily’s 1928 death claim “she never lost her enthusiasm or her capacity for wonder,” that she was “always interested in new points of view, or new methods, even though she might not agree with them,” and never failed to offer mercy and encouragement to her younger coworkers (Rockness, p. 274-5).

Sending out engaging reports, inviting fans and supporters to see the ministry up close, hosting short-term teams, and committing oneself to benefiting from the fresh wind of new people and ideas also characterize many of the healthier ministries I know today... just as they did in Lily’s day.

The Legacy of Lilias Trotter (1853-1928)

Isabelle Lilias Trotter:
Missionary, artist, writer,
and mission leader

Life in England

Lilias Trotter grew up in the golden age of Victorian England, educated at home by governesses but encouraged to develop her potential and use her gifts. These included an unusual appreciation of beauty and facility for drawing and painting. Her early life was punctuated by family trips to Europe where she reveled in the natural beauty she found at every turn and was seldom without a sketchbook. Lily kept illustrated journals through every phase of her life and left behind a wealth of published materials as well as letters and diaries capturing her thoughts and experiences.

But the real focus of her life wasn't art, it was God. Her faith was kindled through the Holiness movement which swept through England in the 1870's, led in part by Quaker and Methodist revivalists from America, including the popular Dwight L. Moody. Throughout her life Lilias would attend "Keswick Convention" events which grew out of their revival meetings whenever she could. And through these meetings, Lilias and her friends surrendered their lives to Christ and his service. Her writings make clear that relationship with God was of primary importance.

Lilias gave more and more of her time to serving the needy in the slums of London through the YWCA, then in its infancy. When she was 35, she felt a call to ministry in North Africa.

Life in Algeria

Lilias and two friends, all well-educated single women, traveled to Algeria to make a home for themselves there. They moved into the Arab section of the casbah, amid narrow winding streets, hoping to be used by God. Rejected by mission agencies, they were not discouraged, apparently, from going out on their own. As Lilias later wrote:

"None of us would have been passed by a doctor for any missionary society. We did not know a soul in the place, or a sentence of Arabic, nor had we a clue as to how to begin work on such untouched ground. We only knew we had to come. If God needed weakness, he had it! We were on a fool’s errand, so it seemed, and we are on it still, and glory in it.”

Algiers may seem far away and exotic to us, but for Lilias, it was not really that far from home; Britons who wished to visit North Africa need only take a train across France and board a ship for a relatively short journey from Marseilles to Algiers. She seems to have initially expected to live there six months of the year, keeping a commitment to come home and nurse an invalid sister the other six. The sister died unexpectedly. In the years to come, though, Lilias (whose own health was shaky) took frequent and sometimes extended breaks to rest in England, Switzerland, or other parts of Europe.

For 40 years Lilias lived and served in North Africa, sacrificing the comfortable life and promising art career she might have had in England with what she called “the liberty of those who have nothing to lose because they have nothing to keep.” She and her coworkers learned Arabic, taught the Bible, set up classes of all kinds of men, women, and children, traveled extensively, and pioneered all kinds of strategies for connecting with the lives and hearts of their Arab friends in culturally appropriate ways.

No mention is made, in anything I've read, about giving up marriage and family; perhaps she had no desire to pursue that path. I'm not sure. Maybe nobody thought that was a sacrifice. At her death she left behind only relationships, a wealth of devotional material that spoke to the hearts of the people, and a band of 30 missionaries, mostly women, who looked to her as their leader and continued reaching out to the people of North Africa years before breakthrough came to the region.

Learning about Lilias: Three Books

The "Algiers Mission Band" eventually became part of the North Africa Mission (renamed Arab World Ministries) which merged with Pioneers in 2010... not long after I came into Pioneers, also through a merger, so I guess that gives me a tie to Lilias Trotter.

I wonder what she would think if she peered into the new Pioneers building in Orlando and saw signs directing visitors to the Trotter Conference Center, named in her honor? It was in writing some material to describe her legacy (and perhaps explain why we were using her name) that I decided I needed to learn more about her.

Decided to start at the school library. CIU was founded by Robertson McQuilkin, a holiness movement leader in America and an avid supporter of world missions. Both streams are still a strong part of the CIU culture. Some students major in "Muslim Studies" and take classes from the "Zwemer Center," named after another pioneering missionary who was a friend and colleague of our friend Lilias. With that many connections, I should not have been surprised to find a collection of Lilias Trotter biographies in the school library. I checked out three and read them through, one after the other.

I started with Patricia St. John's 1990 biography. It follows the conventions of missionary biography, providing an easy to read, inspirational narrative strong on devotion but sometimes weak on details, explanation, or analysis. I was surprised to realize it was a 1990 book, as it felt as if it were written for an earlier time.

I then picked up a more modern work by Miriam Rockness (2003) which has some of the same flavor as St. John's book but is written for a contemporary audience. It is stronger academically. Rockness cites her sources more carefully and fills in some of the gaps with background or analysis. It's harder to read, though; I can see where someone who wasn't determined to finish it might not make it through. Long, unedited quotes are formatted somewhat awkwardly (double-spaced italics with original spelling and punctuation). In reviews, some readers were quite critical of Rockness, calling her a poor writer compared to Trotter herself. I don't think I'd agree. But the tone slips back and forth between devotional and scholarly, and one looking for one or the other might struggle with that.

Finally, I skimmed a 1929 book primarily made up of Trotter's letters and journal entries, edited and published shortly after her death by her friend and coworker Blanche Pigott. I suspect Lilias, who often reworked her journal entries for publication, would appreciate Blanche's efforts to clean up her work. But it does mean we're not getting quite the real deal; I can see why Rockness went back to the archives. This one reads as more a collection of pieces than a narrative. If you didn't know who Lilias Trotter was or why she's considered significant, you'd be at a disadvantage in navigating this book and might be turned off by the language and some of the emphases.

Looking for Legacy

All three works covered many different stages and aspects of Trotter's life. I was most interested in her ministry strategy and experience in North Africa, her leadership of the Algiers Mission Band, her connections with other mission leaders of the time like Samuel Zwemer and Amy Carmichael, and her legacy as a missiologist focused on reaching Arabs. She was an accomplished leader of people, both a visionary and a detail-oriented administrator. Missiologist Christy Wilson said Lily's evangelism approaches were "one hundred years ahead of her time." The book she wrote for Sufi mystics introducing them to Christ through the "I Am" statements in the Gospel of John sounds like a masterpiece, one rooted in a great deal of study and sympathy for the Sufi "talebs" she met during her travels in the south of the country.

Judging from the biographical sketches I've found, however, what most people know and emphasize about Lilias Trotter (if they know anything) is that she was an artist who put aside a potentially great career in the arts, for ministry, but who left behind a number of devotional booklets illustrated by her own drawing and paintings.

I don't think art is her real legacy.

Rockness explains that her interest in Lilias came through friends who gave her their collection of those booklets, one by one, and enlisted her in their quest to save them from disappearing. That may be why she puts the "artist" narrative front and center, though her chapter on legacy is much more balanced.

The documentary Many Beautiful Things focuses in on the art v. God narrative, though. I haven't seen it, but here's the IMDB description:

From Executive Producer Hisao Kurosawa, (Dreams, Ran), comes the untold story of one of the world's greatest women artists and why her name was nearly lost to history. Many Beautiful Things plunges viewers into the complex age of Victorian England to meet Lilias Trotter, a daring young woman who defied all norms by winning the favor of England's top art critic, John Ruskin. In an era when women were thought incapable of producing high art, Ruskin promised that her work could be "immortal." But with her legacy on the line, Lilias made a stunning decision that bids us to question the limits of sacrifice. As Lilias journeys to French Algeria in the late 1800's to pioneer work with women and children, viewers are left to wonder, "Could you abandon a dream to pursue your true calling?" Featuring the voices of Michelle Dockery (Downton Abbey) and John Rhys-Davies (Lord of the Rings, Indiana Jones).

So, like Chariots of Fire, it seems to paints a picture of a Christian "sacrificing" remarkable skills by putting their faith first (appealing to evangelicals, though perhaps bewildering to others).

After soaking up enough Lilias Trotter, I'm having a hard time seeing where someone would question whether she "wasted" her gifts as an artist by becoming a missionary. Likely Ruskin was right that if she wanted to be a great artist, she would have to put art first. She turned away from that, saying she didn't think she could devote herself to art and still "seek first Christ and his kingdom." Some Christians find ways to pursue both simultaneously. They serve God through their gifts as artists, athletes, musicians, writers, or whatever. But to live a life surrendered to God, even if that means not following gifts that might demand more of you than you can give... well, that is better, isn't it?

Lilias would say her duty is not to her gifts, but to her God. Lilias Trotter had a wonderful life, and if she wasn't one of the world's greatest artists because she thought seeking to save souls was more important, it didn't stop her from seeing the world's beauty and from the joy of painting and drawing most every day, alongside writing, teaching, and investing in her coworkers and the Arab communities in which they served.

(Continued in More About Lilias Trotter.)

George Hunter: Apostle of Turkestan

Half a dozen years ago, when I was reading my way through a selection of  biographies in the library of OMF International's US office, I wrote about Percy Mather, pioneering missionary to the Mongolians. One of the things that impressed me about Mather was his ability to work gracefully and contentedly not only in harsh conditions but also with harsh people... specifically the man he invariably referred to as "Mr Hunter" and with whom he had a ministry partnership for almost twenty years.

OMF recently published an article about the dour George Hunter (1861-1946). His "independent, single-minded spirit quickly distinguished him as a loner, unable to work with others, and frequently causing friction due to his firm principled stand on many issues of doctrine and churchmanship." 

Hunter, who had no interest in diversions, holidays, or vacations, is described as as one who "had single-mindedly set his hand to the plough, and he would not look back."

Mather did not keep all of Hunter's practices nor hold all of his views, but enough that they could be partners. The two men lived simply, preferring to spend what money they had on paper (which was expensive) and "on which they spent the winter months reproducing gospel portions in various Mongol dialects – Tibetan, Kazakh, Chinese, Manchu, Russian and Arabic." They traveled widely and distributed scripture portions in local languages to all who showed interest. Hunter and Mather "cover[ed] many thousands of miles by mule, often away for several months at a time, pioneering in unmapped areas, facing hardships, dangers and toil" as they trekked to the furthest reaches of their remote province.

Later in his life, and likely due at least in part by the "untoward" behavior of some younger missionaries sent to work alongside Hunter and Mather (but unable to survive there), Hunter was imprisoned and tortured by the Soviets for more than a year under accusation of espionage. When released, he was escorted from the city, never able to return. He died in Gansu hoping for a chance to return to Xinjiang.

+     +     +     

My final year of college my roommate and I were both in the process of applying for full-time ministry positions. When we compared notes, I was amused that her application and reference forms emphasized an ability to work independently and in rugged or solitary situations, whereas mine seemed designed to discover if I was winsome and popular with others. Neither of us was accepted  (though she later ended up serving with the ministry to which =I= had applied). My letter of rejection included encouragemetn to find a ministry "where I wouldn't be working with people." Maybe it seemed I have have more "Hunter" than "Mather" in me. Though I would probably go mad with the kind of isolation they both faced. Takes all kinds, doesn't it?

Ministry positions generally require =both= a good dose of independence and an ample helping of amiability. Most of us seem to be stronger in one or the other, I guess. At any rate, reading about Hunter made me grateful that Mather had both the charm to work well with such a partner, and the fortitude, himself, to share the otherwise harsh and solitary life Hunter had chosen and which seemed necessary, at that time, for the sake of those they hoped to reach. Neither ever married because they believed this was no life for a woman. I find it ironic that we know these stories primarily because of intrepid missionary-writer Mildred Cable, member of a trio of single women who trekked through this region and wrote about them.

Lottie Moon's sister, missionary to Palestine and lady physician to Confederate rebels?

Dr. Oriana (Moon) Andrews
and her husband,
Dr. John Summerfield Andrews.

"One of the most famous single women missionaries of all time would have to be Charlotte Moon," I told my Perspectives students. "She and two of her sisters, touched by the revival that swept America just before the Civil War, ended up as missionaries."

"One sister was supposedly the first female doctor south of the Mason-Dixon Line, and ended up going as a medical missionary to Arabs in Palestine, then came home to be a doctor for the Confederate Army."

"I would love to read her story," I added, before going on to tell a little of Lottie's.

Next day, though, I started wondering if this was one of those things I really could learn more about than in days gone by. I might not need to prowl through archives in Virginia; more and more things can be found online!

After a few tries, Google and I came up with a name and even a biographical sketch of Dr. Oriana Moon. There is also this fun dramatic reading which mentions Lottie's sisters alongside Lottie, apparently drawing on the same secondary sources I'd used previously. (I think that would go well in a Perspectives course, as well.)

So, did I have it right? Or what else might be helpful to share?

The Moon girls were certainly a remarkable bunch. Growing up surrounded by books and well supplied with tutors, they were allowed by their parents to pursue their own interests and given educational opportunities usually restricted to sons. I had to smile when I read that their father purchased an unusually large library for Orie,

"...Consisting of the leading histories, poetry, fiction, and scientific works of the time. For the first sixteen years of her life, Orie was an ardent and persistent reader, often so wrapped up in her readings that she refused to stop for meals. Orie seemed to prefer mental nourishment to material food and craved learning..."

After writing a thesis on the relationship between coronary and respiratory diseases, Oriana got her MD in 1857 from a women's medical college in Philadelphia. That's decidedly North of the Mason-Dixon line, and she certainly studied and worked in the company of other female doctors (though, as the article points out, the women were not allowed to practice in Philadelphia hospitals, limiting their work to a clinic the school set up to treat women and destitute patients). Later she did practice medicine in Virginia, though "despite much urging, Dr. Moon consistently declined to 'hang out her shingle' as a general practitioner," at least at that time. Later she did, and further south.

Oriana seems to have been just as outspoken as Lottie, warning another sister's fiance that he must be brave to marry into a family that included someone like herself. Nothing in this article, though, confirms that she was the first female doctor in the South. Have to look elsewhere for that. Meanwhile, I should at least soften my summary with a "one of" or "some say."

Shortly after earning her MD, Oriana returned to Virginia and signed on to accompany her uncle, an ordained minister and physician, as he and his family made an extended "missionary journey" to the Holy Land. "Orie was determined to join Barclay and assist him where possible by providing providing medical services to the Bedouins." Here's a telling vignette:

"She sailed to Europe, carrying for protection a revolver with which she was an expert marksman. In Turkey, while crossing the Bosphorus from Constantinople to Adrianople, Orie hired two boatmen to row her across the water. In an incident she often retold in later years, Orie paid the two men an agreed-upon sum before they started rowing. However, midway in the trip, the two boatmen threatened to turn back unless she paid them a second time. Orie pulled out her revolver and barked the command "Go to Adrianople!" So motivated, the two boatmen rowed with great speed, and when the boat touched the Adrianople shore, they fled with equal haste. Orie proved to be a fearless American that even these Turks respected."

Religious zeal for God's glory does not seem to have played much of a part in Oriana's initial decision to go to Palestine; though raised in the church and in a Christian family, she had never been particularly religious. So much for the revival connection, at least in Oriana's case. But some serious conversations with her uncle on the journey across the Atlantic seem to have had an impact, and she had her uncle baptize her in the Pool of Siloam.

It may, then, be overstating things to call her a missionary doctor in Palestine without some disclaimers. We could call her uncle a missionary, and she was part of his party, though, so maybe. On the other hand, she was only in the Middle East for 14 months before returning home in 1859. So, similarly, any claim that she only left her missionary calling in the Middle East to patch up Confederate soldiers is misleading. The war didn't start until 1861.

What does seem clear, however, is that her "missionary journey" played a clear part in her personal development, that she felt she made a difference among the Bedouin, and that she looked back on the experience as a significant one. She told the stories for the rest of her life. So, call it a transformative mission trip, a short-term rather than a missionary career.

One thing that the article does confirm is that when the war broke out, Oriana was quick to offer herself to the Confederacy as a doctor. Until her death in 1883 she served in both informal and formal roles as a physician (sometimes, later, alongside her husband, also a doctor).

Oriana's zeal for service and evangelism resurfaces throughout her life, as when she set up, led, and preached in an open-air church in a nearby black village. She stood up to threats from the KKK... once again armed and ready to repel them if they carried out a threatened attack against her! And it was while visiting her sister Oriana that Charlotte Moon decided to go to China as a missionary. In this, Lottie was following in the footsteps of another sister, Edmonia, of whom I know little so far. I gather Edmonia got sick and came home, whereas Lottie served in China for more than 30 years. Time for some more digging, eh? I've never even read a proper biography of Lottie, so let me see what I can find out. 

American History, the Great Migration, and Grandma Burnie

From the first pages of Laura Ingall's Wilder's Little House in the Big Woods, I was hooked on pioneer stories. I loved to read about old-time frontier families crossing the country in a covered wagon, homesteaders, Indians, and girls in calico and sunbonnets. Since I grew up in Washington state, social studies class and school field trips reinforced those themes. They featuring tales of Lewis and Clark and the Oregon Trail.

Either missing altogether or mentioned without emphasis were stories of a migration that began a few decades after the covered wagon days came to a close. The Great Migration did just as much to shape our country, probably more. But I'm learning about it now.

You see, here in South Carolina, those Lewis and Clark stories don't do so much to capture the imagination. Not like tales of the day in 1865 when General Sherman and his troops burned down two-thirds of our town... and other important events from the Revolutionary War, the Civil War (sometimes called by other names), Reconstruction, and the Civil Rights movement.

And probably everybody knows something about the Great Migration. It was a series of several waves between 1910 and 1970 during which more than six million African Americans moved from their rural lives in the South to in the cities of the Northeast, Midwest, and West to take up industrial jobs (starting with WWI war factories). They were driven away by crop failures and Jim Crow laws, and drawn by job offers and the hope of a great new life in places that seemed to be Promised Lands: Chicago. Philadelphia. Detroit.

"Around 1916, when the Great Migration began, a factory wage in the urban North was typically three times more than what blacks could expect to make working the land in the rural South." (History.com)

They may have escaped sharecropping, segregation, and the Ku Klux Klan, but they still faced prejudice and discrimination. There were culture clashes, housing shortages, and race riots. But there were also things like the Harlem Renaissance and the rise of black civic culture. The early waves created thriving black communities in New York, Chicago, Philadelphia, St. Louis, Detroit, Pittsburgh, and Indianapolis, with later settlements growing in Los Angeles, San Francisco, Oakland, Phoenix, Seattle, and Portland. No longer was the African American experience a rural one, but now, much more, an urban one. The migration far exceeded the number of Irish, Italians, or other immigrant communities whose stories are part of our national narrative.

"By 1970, when the Great Migration ended, its demographic impact was unmistakable: Whereas in 1900, nine out of every 10 black Americans lived in the South, and three out of every four lived on farms, by 1970 the South was home to less than half of the country’s African-Americans, with only 25 percent living in the region’s rural areas." (Learn more from History.com.)

My interest in the Great Migration was piqued in learning about a local, 110-year-old African-American lady who recently passed away. She lived through all that, as explained by an SC House Resolution offering her birthday congratulations. Burnie, a sharecropper's daughter, dropped out of school in the fourth grade when her mom died; she had to help take care of her siblings and work on the farm. Married, widowed, twice. Raised children and buried some. When the land could no longer support them, Burnie and her family moved north in 1955 to seek a better life. She worked as a housekeeper in a few DC hotels. Didn't return to the South until she was an old woman. Never stopped praying, says a brief video on our local news.

An obituary states that Burnie Montgomery was survived by four of her children, 21 grandchildren, 46 great grandchildren, and 50 great-great-grandchildren, among others.

Added to my reading list the best-seller The Warmth of Other Suns: The Epic Story of America's Great Migration by Pulitzer Prize winner Isabel Wilkerson.

Women in Missions: William Carey's Praying Sister

It's been many months since my last entry in the series of accounts and reflections on women in missions, but just came across something good I want to share with others who are interested in this kind of thing. This comes from Joni Eareckson Tada. I'll have to do some more digging to find the original source material.

"While he labored in the distant land of India, back in England, William Carey had a sister whom he affectionately called Polly – Polly was bedridden and almost completely paralyzed for 52 years. William wrote to Polly all about the details of his struggle to create primers and dictionaries in the various Indian dialects, as well as the difficulty of figuring out how to get these books typed and printed. And with every letter from William that she received, Polly lifted these needs up before the Throne. Every day for 52 years, she faithfully prayed for her brother.

"Now I don’t have to tell you that really inspired me. There she is Polly for all intents and purposes a quadriplegic, unable to walk or use her hands. But that didn’t paralyze her prayer life. And, oh, were William Carey’s efforts blessed by God – not only was India reached for Christ, but what he did became a model for modern missionaries even to this day… all because a paralyzed woman prayed.

"A lot of people know about the work of William Carey, but not many people know about the sister behind the scenes whose prayers guaranteed the success of his efforts. Polly’s testimony tells me that the life of any Christian can have huge repercussions for the kingdom. Think of it: if God can use bedridden quadriplegics to open doors to the Gospel around the world, what can He do through your prayers?! Little wonder the Bible says, 'Pray without ceasing.' … for God knows what great things are accomplished when people pray."

» Read more.

Teaching on Women in Missions

I need to brush up on this topic in preparation for teaching Perspectives classes this spring. One of the lessons I regularly teach is built around four men who are held us as "pioneers" of new ways of doing mission: William Carey, Hudson Taylor, Cameron Townsend, and Donald McGavran. Since all four men were married (Carey had three wives and Taylor and Townsend each had two), it's a cinch to fold in content about the eight women, and hard to resist adding in a few more women who were a significant part of their ministry teams.

I think it's important not to wave the "girl power" flag too briskly. It's too easy to send out a male-bashing message, and we certainly need more men who are willing to serve in missions even though they long been outnumbered by the women. Yet mission history is still typically written and taught with a focus on men, and the women's stories ought to be told as well.

For anyone who teaches this lesson and wants some ideas, here are a few of the women whose contributions I highlight. I've also blogged about some of them here, it's easy to find more material online, and I'm happy to share my teaching notes.

• William Carey: wives Dorothy, Charlotte, and Grace; teammate Hannah Marshman
• Hudson Taylor: mother Amelia, wives Maria and Jennie, teammate Emily, sister Amelia
• Cameron Townsend: wives Elvira and Elaine, niece Evelyn, the anonymous woman who told him he'd be a coward for going to war and leaving the women to carry out missions, and the teams of single women he sent out like Loretta Anderson and Doris Cox. 
• Others: If there's time I usually fold in stories about Mary Livingstone, Mary Slessor, Ann Judson, Isabel Kuhn, Lottie Moon (and her sister who was a physician in the Middle East), and the women's societies formed to support missionaries and send out single women.

Women of the China Inland Mission: Elizabeth Wilson

Today someone came across and commented on one of my 2008 posts - one that tells the story of Hudson Taylor's little sister Amelia and her lesser known contributions to the formation of the groundbreaking China Inland Mission.

Amelia prayed for her brother, was his faithful friend and correspondent, and helped raise his children along with her own. By the time she was my age she and her husband had stepped into a crucial role in the young mission's home office. They hosted many mission candidates and missionaries in training as well as those transitioning into home assignments. Even when she was an elderly, crippled widow, Amelia would take tea with the young people who applied, encourage them, and help the candidate committee size them up as potential CIMers. As CIM/OMF popular historian Phyllis Thompson put it, "Without the root under the ground, there would be no tree. Without the Amelias, there would be no Mission.”

Today I came across an essay about another great woman of the CIM, Elizabeth Wilson. Just a few years older than Hudson Taylor, Elizabeth met Taylor at prayer meetings in London when both were young. She became an enthusiastic supporter of his work and the China Inland Mission. Committing her own life to missions at the age of 20, she wanted more than anything to go serve in China herself. But as the only unmarried daughter in her family, she had to stay home and care for her invalid parents. It was decades before she was free to leave.

Did she give up her intention? She did not. Three weeks after her last surviving parent died, Elizabeth  contacted the agency and offered her services as a self-funded missionary. She was 46 (one source I found said 50). Starting so "late," she never gained the fluency in Chinese that some of her colleagues achieved, but she did her best, and she could keep up with the rigors of travel.

At the time they described her as being "well past middle life." But that had its advantages. "As a senior person in a young mission, she had a unique ministry of support and encouragement to the younger workers," says Valerie Griffiths in Not Less Than Everything: The Courageous Women Who Carried the Christian Gospel to China. Her silver hair was an asset; Chinese Christian women hobbled miles on their bound feet to meet the "Elder Sister," convinced that she was old and wise.

Elizabeth was committed to going where the need was greatest and coming alongside overworked coworkers. At one point exhaustion threatened to overtake George and Emily King, far inland and away from any other workers in Shaanxi Province. Elizabeth and a young recruit Emily's age, Annie Faussett, set off on an arduous, thousand-mile, three-month trek to join them. Emily King was newly married and expecting her first child, and she was overwhelmed. The church was growing fast. Many Chinese women crowded into her house to get a glimpse of the first foreign woman most of them had ever seen, and they stayed to listen to what she said. But she could not keep up with the ministry opportunities; she needed help. In come Elizabeth and Annie, accompanied by two Chinese believers. In the next year 18 Chinese women were baptized there.

See also Going Where the Need Was Greatest: The Story of Elizabeth Wilson.  

What the Irish guy said

It was right around St. Patrick’s day … the day when ministries working in Ireland leave their verdant paradise to come to America and raise funds from American Christians. Or so I learned. My source explained, wryly, that on that day of all days, Americans are thinking fond thoughts about their Irish ancestors who left the motherland during the potato famine and about the evangelical “saint” whom both Catholics and Protestants tend to claim as their own. So it's a good time to visit.

James has red hair and beard that suggest he hails for Northern climes, and on a trip to Ireland he had built a relationship with Jeremy, the principal of an organization called the Irish Bible Institute. Between taking this guy around to his speaking engagements and fundraising appointments, James set up a lunch for some of his friends who enjoy matters of theology and culture and who might be interested in and available to meet up for lunch; somehow my name made the list.

Jeremy considers himself a Protestant, but not, apparently, without a pang of regret; he was raised Catholic in a time and place where being right with the church and being right with God were on and the same. “Everyone” went to Mass. Even years later, when someone asked him what it was like to be a Protestant in Ireland he replied, without thinking, “I’m not Protestant; I’m Irish!”

When Jeremy was in his late teens he had some time on his hands and wandered into a coffee shop being managed by some North Americans who wanted to talk about Jesus. As Jeremy began to really follow Jesus he wanted to learn more about him and decided to go to Bible school.

You might thing an Irish Catholic who wanted to study the Bible and discovered the Catholics couldn’t help him (at that time) might look to the closest culture that could; he’d go to England. But sometimes the barriers of acceptance stand their tallest when they come between the closest neighbors, don’t they? For historical reasons, a Bible school in Canada was “closer” than any found in England. I wonder how often such dynamics hold true, globally? Certainly I've met people around the world who forged closer bonds with foreign "missionary" types from far-flung places than they could with Christians from churches that were more culturally close (but historically the enemy).

Jeremy told a story about another relative of his who left the Catholic church and whose staunchly Catholic uncle would never call him by his given name again, referring to him as John (the English name) instead of Sean (the Irish). So, to leave the Catholic Church was to become "English."

Hmmm… Most often when I tell stories about the cultural canyons that keep people from following Jesus, the stories are about chasms I tend to consider bigger. Like when a Muslim girl thinks that being a disciple would mean she’d never get a husband or would have to do things she grew up considering forbidden, or a Buddhist boy balks at being the first son who doesn’t do his bit for the ancestors and might not be able to hold down a good job. Guess the same principles can come up anywhere. I remember an old friend who in desperation asked his nerdy Christian roommate, “If I become a Christian, do I have to be like you?”

Sounds as if in the decades since Jeremy was growing up the Catholic Church in Ireland has become less defensive and more interested in embracing and teaching the Bible. The scandals that rocked the church and the growing secularism of society as a whole may have produced a church marked by greater humility and sincerity and a renewed commitment to call people to Jesus and the scriptures; they are big backers of tools like the Alpha course.

It seems that some Protestants and Catholics are finding common ground in those evangelical values that are neither Protestant nor Catholic but transcend them both. And, as Jeremy said, the St. Patrick that Americans care so much about was as evangelical as they come.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me,
Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ on my right, Christ on my left,
Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down, Christ when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man who thinks of me,
Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me,
Christ in every eye that sees me,
Christ in every ear that hears me.
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the threeness,
Through confession of the oneness,
Of the Creator of Creation.

(An excerpt from the hymn known as St. Patrick’s Breastplate)

A Sluggard Goes to the Ant

Recently I ran into two people in one week who described themselves as "plodders." The great missionary pioneer William Carey used that word for himself. Asked how he was able to accomplish as much as he did, he said:

"I can plod. I can persevere in any definite pursuit. To this I owe everything."

Carey's many and long-lasting accomplishments suggest a certain brilliance, but he relied less on genius than faithfulness. He worked hard, stuck with it, loved, forgave, and partnered with others, and persevered through all kinds of obstacles: When his young son died. When his wife had a nervous breakdown, became insanely jealous, and tried to kill him. When a fire destroyed the manuscripts that contained decades of his work. When he got to the place he felt he had to resign from the mission he'd given so much to begin.

I suppose many do not think their lives can, or should, accomplish great things. Yet when we do find within ourselves the desires to do great things and change the world, do we pursue them, and how?

It seems our styles, talents, and positions matter less than our consistent availability to God. Is that what Eugene Peterson means by the title of his book, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction?

Studying through so much of the Old Testament last semester I saw this theme come out again and again. Even when your leaders are corrupt, when the society around you is going in another direction, in times of lawlessness and chaos, you have a choice. Follow God; make him your master. Keep on plodding.

By the time we reached the book of Proverbs, I was ready to take the verses about "the ant" to heart. These statements about universal, practical truth say little about God, but much about the power even the powerless have if they know what they are to do and persist in it. Nobody has to make them do it. Consider...

Proverbs 6: 6-8
⁶ Go to the ant, you sluggard;
consider its ways and be wise!
⁷ It has no commander,
no overseer or ruler,
⁸ yet it stores its provisions in summer
and gathers its food at harvest.

Proverbs 30: 24-28
²⁴ “Four things on earth are small,
yet they are extremely wise:
²⁵ Ants are creatures of little strength,
yet they store up their food in the summer;
²⁶ hyraxes are creatures of little power,
yet they make their home in the crags;
²⁷ locusts have no king,
yet they advance together in ranks;
²⁸ a lizard can be caught with the hand,
yet it is found in kings’ palaces.

Ants? They are extremely wise. So says Agur son of Jakeh, who first penned or uttered this second list of proverbs. Don't know much about him. Was he a guy who sat around philosophizing, or did he, himself, do the work on an ant?

After just a few months of grad school I'm reminded that study and thinking themselves can be hard work, but I appreciate those thinkers who enmesh themselves in community and get their hands hands dirty with other kinds of work as well. After all, as another proverb I read recently has it, "When all is said and done, far more will have been said than done."

I want to be someone whose thinking - and speech - furthers the effectiveness of what is done.

I think that line about the locusts holds another key. "Locusts have no king, yet they advance together in ranks." Insects are communal creatures, aren't they? In many cases they die if they are alone, yet accomplish amazing things together.

Crossing The Country by Covered Wagon

This post was originally published August 9, 2010. I'm reposting it as part of the Christian Writers Blog Chain. This month we're writing on the theme, "journeys."

I knew that the great "Pony Express" was rendered obsolete by the introduction of the telegraph less than two years after it began. But I recently realized that another touchstone of American history, the settlement of the West by pioneers who traveled across the continent by covered wagon, lasted just over one generation (1840-1869). At that point the completion of railroads chopped the journey west from a treacherous trek of six months by wagon to a mere one-week train trip.

One spot through which all those covered wagons were driven - carrying about 500,000 pioneers in that 29-year period - was Casper, Wyoming. You know what they say: location, location, location. Casper is near what may be the best route across the Rockies. It's built beside the [once] great Platte River, which travelers coming West had followed for hundreds of miles. Here each emigrant - having left the United States behind - would say goodbye to the river and strike off for destinations in places like Oregon, California, and Utah.

Image: National Park Service

The people of Casper seem to have accepted the fact that their home is and apparently always has been a place people come through on their way someplace else. In fact, they've built up a modest tourist industry around that aspect of their history. Driving from Washington back to Colorado last summer I visited the National Historic Trails Interpretive Center as well as several of the nearby places of significance to those who traveled these trails.

It goes back pretty far. The 80,000 settlers who came through on the Oregon trail were following in the footsteps of Arapaho, Lakota Sioux, and Shoshone.

Some 70,000 Latter-day Saints came, too, fleeing persecution and seeking their own promised land. Many of the most helpful tools and strategies for surviving the trip were developed by the Mormons; they were disciplined and organized. (Legalistic religions come with a silver lining...)

When the California gold rush got under way, the trail became a highway. One local resident noted that 600 wagons had passed by his house in a single day. On the other hand, I was pleased to read the entry from the journal of one man who reported a guy on horseback heading the other direction, returning to the East. He explained that he simply couldn't go on; he loved his wife more than gold.

Native Americans were once glad of trading partners and scouting jobs. Now they complained that there wasn't enough food to go around; these people were taking over, moving in as if the land were not already inhabited.

Perhaps those covered-wagon days play a big part in our national history because they left such a mark on the families who rode those trails. It was probably the hardest, bravest thing they had ever done. It took so much courage. Many people thought you were crazy. Others envied you. It was a little like going to war. Or traveling to another country. In a way, it was both.

Have you ever been in that kind of situation? The emotions run so high. You don't know if you will survive. If you do, it knits you together together with others who have made that journey, especially the ones you went with. In the context of a lifetime, it may have been a brief experience, but it was one that will stay with you all your life. You save the souvenirs. You pass down the stories to children and grandchildren.

So many lost so much along the way. The more crowded the trails became, the more they were lined with dead animals, broken-down wagons, abandoned treasures, and hundreds and hundreds of graves. Children fell off the wagons and got run over. Others emigrants grew sick and died - cholera was a big killer - drowned in a river crossing, or were caught in storms. Not many were killed by Indians or wild animals, but some.

Timing was important. Everyone knew that if you started at the right time, you'd find enough spring grass along the way to feed your stock. But wait too long and you'd risk getting caught by an early snow in the mountain passes. You knew you'd probably make it to your destination before snowfall if you reached Wyoming's Independence Rock by the fourth of July. That must have been a jubilant place; everyone stopped to scamper up the rock and carve their names. There were dances, and sporting events, and weddings there. A huge celebration took place every July 4.

By the time you'd reached this point, you'd probably gone through a lot. Some of the things you feared had not come to pass, at least not yet. Others, you'd overcome and survived. You'd followed the Platte River longer than you could remember. I bet the kids had stopped asking, "are we almost there yet?" Living out of a wagon was starting to feel normal.

You still had at least another thousand miles to go. 

Can you imagine leaving your country and everything you knew to journey to Oregon Territory? Would you have gone? If so, what do you think would have been the most frightening or difficult part of the journey for you?

Why Look Back?

Dear friends,

A busy season for teaching and travel; the commencement (finally) of graduate school studies; and lots of my thoughts and energy directed toward a new love-interest, my friend Chris out in Oregon, with whom I talk or type every day ... I don't seem to have more words left. So, the blog has languished a bit.

This is my third week in a row of teaching at Perspectives on the World Christian Movement classes. I'll walk about 150 people through a two-hour session on modern missions history at churches in three Colorado cities in the next few days. This lesson focuses on pioneers, the entrepreneurs and ground-breakers who went where few had gone before and built the trails for others to follow.

My hope is that the class will inspire the students to pursue their own dreams in ministry and pick up a few historical mentors to learn from as they go. Ultimately, I value partnership - linking arms with others and learning from them - over pioneering. But we still need people who are able and willing to go where other people don't go, to try what other people don't try. And my hope is that the two will be connected: that everyone who starts something new will learn from those who have gone before and prioritize making connections with like-minded people. Without those two things, who can make a lasting contribution? In any area of life?

“Christian missionary work is the most difficult thing in the world. It is surprising that it should ever have been attempted. It is surprising that it should have been attended by such a measure of success. And it is not at all surprising that an immense number of mistakes should have been made.” Stephen Neill 

I like to start my history lessons with some kind of theological foundation, an explanation of why it's worth our while to look back as well as ahead. This one is easy; it's built on remembering what God has done.

REMEMBER the former things, those of long ago; I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me. Is. 46:9

REMEMBER the days of old; consider the generations long past. Ask your father and he will tell you, your elders, and they will explain to you. Deut. 32:7

REMEMBER your leaders, who spoke the word of God to you. Consider the outcome of their way of life and imitate their faith. Heb. 13:7