Listening to the Giants

David Brainerd died at the young age of 29. Early death in itself is not unusual, but might the young missionaries’ death been preventable? Jonathan Edwards (author of Brainerd’s diary) explains, “Another imperfection in Mr. Brainerd, which may be observed in the following account of his life, was his life, was his being excessive in his labors; not taking due care to proportion his fatigues to his strength.” Yet I would encourage the reader to not be too critical of Brainerd’s imperfection. I believe there are three reasons for Brainerd’s recklessness. Life was short at that time. I have dealt with this issue in a previous post, addressing the grim realities for John Calvin and most humans in the last two millennia.   “It is hard for the 21st century Christian to truly grasp the regularity of death for the 16th century person. Most children did not make it to adulthood (Calvin’s only son died two weeks after birth) and therefore, time for Calvin was against him an...

In his autobiography Lewis recalls his personal grief, “I must now turn to a great loss that befell our family when my mother became ill. There were voices and comings and goings all over the house. Our whole existence changed into something alien and menacing, as the house became full of strange smells and midnight noises. ... I remembered what I'd been taught — that prayers offered in faith would be granted. I set myself to produce by will power a firm belief that my prayers for her recovery would be successful. It didn’t work. He later adds, “With my mother's death all settled happiness, all that was tranquil and reliable, disappeared from my life. And there has never been really any sense of security and snuggness since. I've not quite succeeded in growing up on that point. There is still too much of mommy's lost, little boy about me. My father's good qualities as well as his weaknesses incapacitated him for the task of bringing up two noisy and...

These blog entries are going to be somewhat challenging because of one glaring fact: John Calvin did not like to talk or write about himself. Here is an excerpt from the biography I am currently reading:  “The location of Calvin’s grave is unknown, and that was the way he wanted it. Nothing would have horrified him more than the monument to the Reformation in Geneva with its enormous image of the Frenchman. He deliberately wrote next to nothing about himself and his life. ” You might ask, “And yet this is the “giant” you want to write about?” You bet it is. So what made this man great? Well….there were a lot of reasons, but what I want to focus on in the next few paragraphs is the discipline of John Calvin. Now it should not be a shock to any student of church history that every “giant” was disciplined to a certain degree. Theodore Beza (Calvin's spiritual son in the faith) wrote, “He (Calvin) worked hard at his university studies and there are still trustworthy men ali...

Out of all of McCheyne’s entries, these impacted me the most. Nov. 12—“Reading H. Martyn’s Memoirs. Would I imitate him, giving up father, mother, country, house, health, life, all—for Christ. And yet, what hinders/ Lord, purify me and give me strength to dedicate myself, my all to Thee!” It seems a common trend among the “giants” to drink of the springs of those “who have walked before them”. The reason is obvious: Encouragement to finish the race . Encouragement to finish the right way. Dec. 18—“My heart must break off from all these things. What right have I to steal and abuse my Master’s time? Redeem it. He is crying to me.” Nothing grieves my heart more than “wasted time”. Conversely, nothing strengthens the Christian more than the joy of a clear conscience (Acts 23:1). Aug. 18—“Heard of the death of James Somerville by fever, induced by cholera. O God, Thy ways and thoughts are not as ours! I saw him last on Friday, 27 th of July, at the College gate; shook h...

Death is an unnatural joy. This is not to say that death is not normal, because it certainly is. Its sting brings fear, and yet, by the mercy of God through the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, the sting of death has been relieved (1 Cor. 15:55-57). For Robert Murray McCheyne, it was the sting of his brother’s death that awakened him to the Divine peace. McCheyne’s brother David was 8 or 9 years older and was the light of Christ in the McCheyne household. It was said of him that he was a man of “sensitive truthfulness”. Just a grieved look from his godly brother often led McCheyne to inner shame and subsequent repentance. The months leading up to David’s death were difficult for McCheyne. His brother had a severe bout of melancholy (i.e. depression —modern use), which ate away at his body, leaving him susceptible to physical illness. Before he died, the clouds of depression lifted, but David’s suffering had great impact on McCheyne, who often spoke of his brother’s death...

Throughout the next few weeks, this blog will examine certain “snapshots” of D.L. Moody, which I hope will bring a deeper appreciation for this servant and a greater love for the God whom he gave his life to. “It was foreign to the disposition of Edwin Moody (D.L. Moody’s father) to give much thought to the future, and so it is not strange that he made little or no provision for the contingency of his sudden death. When, therefore, he was stricken down without a moment’s warning at the early age of forty-one, the widow was left with practically no means of support.” It is unclear the age of Moody when his father died, but one can assume that it was heartbreaking for the family. Yet death is part of the human existence and the biography that I read (the one written by Moody’s son) focuses more on the burden carried by Moody’s mother, rather than the loss of their beloved husband and father. The question I have is this: What impact (if any) did Moody’s loss play in his personal d...

Throughout the next few weeks, this blog will examine certain “snapshots” of D.L. Moody, which I hope will bring a deeper appreciation for this servant and a greater love for the God whom he gave his life to. This is a letter Moody wrote to his children regarding the death of their son and his only grandson (who had his namesake): "I know Dwight is having a good time, and we should rejoice with him. What would mansions be without children? He was the last to come into our circle, and he is the first to go up there! So safe, so free from all the sorrow that we are passing through! I do thank God for such a life. It was nearly all smiles and sunshine, and what a glorified body he will have, and with what joy he will await your coming! God does not give us such strong love for each other for a few days or years, but it is going to last forever, and you will have the dear little man with you for ages and ages, and love will keep increasing. The Master has need of him, or He ...