Brother Lawrence

Brother Lawrence

Nicholas Herman was born around 1611 in Lorraine, France.  His parents being poor, Nicholas joined the army and participated in the Thirty Years’ War.  During his time as a soldier, in the dead of winter, Nicholas received supernatural insight from an ordinary sight, setting him on a spiritual journey that would last the rest of his life.

He looked at a simple tree, stripped clean of leaves and fruit, waiting for the springtime to blossom again.  This sight caused him to grasp for the first time how wonderfully extravagant God’s grace was.  Like the tree, he was dead, but God had life waiting for him and, when the seasons changed, it would bring forth fruitfulness. 

Later, a battle injury sidelined him from military service, and left him in permanent pain from a damaged Sciatic nerve.  He spent some time as a civil servant and some time living a monastic life in the desert.  Eventually, he applied for and was allowed to join the Discalced (“without shoes”) Carmelite monastery in Paris and assumed the name “Brother Lawrence.”  In the monastery, he was assigned to work in the kitchen, a task he did not like.  Through these chores, he learned the lesson of Colossians 3:17, “Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father.”  Lawrence determined that “It is not the greatness of the work which matters to God, but the love with which it is done.”  To him, his personal love for God made every detail of his life to have great value.

Lawrence worked for the monastery for 15 years cooking, then was moved to a position where he repaired the sandals of over 100 other monks.  He resolved to put himself in a position where he made his love for God the end motivation for every one of his actions, most specifically the “common business” tasks of living – whether they be turning eggs in a frying pan, repairing sandals, or being tasked to go to the town and fetch a shipment of wine for the community.  He once said, “It is enough for me to pick up but a straw from the ground for the love of God.”

Most of what we know about Brother Lawrence comes from a series of interviews from Abbe de Beaufort, the personal envoy of Cardinal de Noaille of France.  The Cardinal had heard of the simple monk performing menial tasks with great devotion and profound wisdom and in 1666 sent Beaufort to interview him and see if the rumors were true.  Lawrence had trepidation about being interviewed in this way – both out of his reluctance to be in any spotlight and in wanting to know for certain that Beaufort’s intentions were genuine and not political in nature.  When Lawrence was comfortable, he granted the envoy four interviews, or “conversations,” where he described his way of life and how he came to understand it.  Beaufort described Lawrence, then in his late 50’s, as “rough in appearance but gentle in grace.”  The gently monk had a habit of continually conversing with God, throughout the day.  Lawrence told him he felt as close to God in the business of the kitchen as when he knelt in prayer.

When Brother Lawrence died peacefully and in blissful obscurity at age 80, his friends found copies of 16 letters he had written to others about the spiritual life.  They published these, along with envoy Beaufort’s recollections of his four interviews, form the sum total of Brother Lawrence’s writings, a small book today entitled “The Practice of the Presence of God.”  The entire book can be read in under an hour.

A great deal of wisdom about loving God can be found in these short pages.  In one of his letters, Lawrence writes, “Men invent means and methods of coming at God’s love, they learn rules and set up devices to remind them of that love, and it seems like a world of trouble to bring oneself into the consciousness of God’s presence.  Yet it might be so simple.  It is not quicker and easier to just do our common business wholly for the love of Him?”

“The most holy and necessary practice in our spiritual life is the presence of God.  That means finding constant pleasure in His divine company, speaking humbly and lovingly with Him in all seasons, at every moment, without limiting the conversation in any way.”

“I have abandoned all particular forms of devotion, all prayer techniques.  My only prayer practice is attention.  I carry on a habitual, silent, and secret conversation with God that fills me with overwhelming joy.”

“There is no greater lifestyle and no greater happiness than that of having a continual conversation with God.”

“Prayer is nothing else than a sense of God’s presence.”

“In order to know God, we must often think of Him; and when we come to love Him, we shall then also think of Him often, for our heart will be with our treasure.”

Packer, J.I., 131 Christians Everyone Should Know, Holman Reference, 2000.

http://www.gutenberg.org/cache/epub/5657/pg5657.html

Eric Liddell

Eric Liddell

Olympian Eric Liddell was born in China in 1902 to Scottish missionaries.  At age 6, he and his older brother returned to England where they were enrolled in a boarding school in London for the sons of missionaries while his parents returned to the mission field.  They saw their parents only two or three more times on furloughs during their childhood. 

In school and later in university, Eric excelled in athletics, especially Cricket and Rugby.  Eric got a reputation in university as a fast runner, and the possibility of his achieving Olympic status was spoken of.  In his position as a noted athlete, he joined a group called the Glasgow Students’ Evangelistic Union and spoke frequently in evangelistic meetings.  In University, he ran the 100-yard and 220-yard races, setting a British record of 9.7 seconds for the 100-yard dash which stood for 23 years.

He was accepted on the Olympic Team for the 1924.  Eric was the favorite for the 100-yard sprint but had withdrawn much earlier as the schedule had been published months earlier showing the run was scheduled for Sunday.  (This was not a last-second decision as portrayed in Chariots of Fire).  Knowing he would not participate in the 100-yard race, he trained hard for the 400-yard race.  On the day of that event, one of the team members handed him a folded square of paper.  Looking at it later he read, “In the old book it says: ‘He that honors me I will honour.’  Wishing you the best of success always.”  Eric said later this note meant a lot to him because it confirmed to him that others appreciated the stand he took for his faith.

Eric drew the outside lane, depriving him of the view of the other runners.  He treated the race as a whole sprint, and it paid off.  He was challenged on the home stretch, but held on for the win.  During that race, he broke the world record with a 47.6 second time – a record which stood for 12 years until broken in the 1936 Berlin Olympics by another Brit.

During that same Olympiad, Eric Liddell also won the bronze medal in the 200-yard run.

Many people know this part of Eric’s story from the movie ‘Chariots of Fire’.  It is perhaps even more compelling to see Eric’s life after the 1924 Olympics.  In 1925, Eric stepped away from athletic glory to focus on missions work.  He joined the London Missionary Society and went to serve in Northern China, like his parents.  Liddell’s life was based on a simple calculation, noted in a sermon of his, “Each one comes to the cross-roads at some period of his life and must make his decision for or against his Master.” 

Eric married in 1934 to the daughter of Canadian missionaries.  Eric and Florence had three daughters.  Eric loved his family, but his first priority seemed to be his missions work.  He initially offered himself as an instructor to wealthy children, thinking that if he could win those young people, they would be in a position to affect many others in China with the Gospel.  Eric spent great lengths of time separated from his family in the 1930s and early 1940s.  He was often robbed, was often hungry and unwashed, and faced regular harassment from local officials.

In 1941, the ever-present threat of Japanese invasion became too great and Eric sent his wife, pregnant with their third child (whom he would never see), and other two daughters to safety in Toronto.  He said goodbye, kissed his children, and walked away never once turning around.  His older daughter remembered that the parting was very hard on him.

In 1943, Liddell was placed in a Japanese prison camp called Weihsien.  This camp had roughly 1,800 internees crammed into a space that was 150 yards by 200 yards.  Survivors of the camp recall him doing simple things to minister to his fellow prisoners.  He boiled water for others to cook.  He taught math and science to children, and even organized soccer games for them.  A woman who identified herself later as the camp prostitute remembered that he built storage shelves for her when all others had shunned her.  He never requested repayment for his efforts, but excelled in his day-to-day faithfulness and putting others before himself.  He was universally loved in that camp.

Eric wrote a letter to his wife on the day he died, February 21^st, 1945, letting her know he suffered a nervous breakdown due to overwork.  He didn’t tell her he had an inoperable brain tumor and was suffering from malnourishment.  According to a missionary in the same prison camp his last words were “It’s complete surrender.”

Eric Liddell seemed to have everything.  He had an Olympic gold medal, an offer to instruct in Cambridge, and seemingly everything the world had to offer.  He gave it all up to live a difficult life of ministry in a difficult place – and when he became a prisoner, he continued that ministry.  He wasn’t a perfect man, but his commitment and devotion to Christ and His work were beyond dispute.

“We are all missionaries.  Wherever we go we either bring people nearer to Christ or we repel them from Christ.”

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Eric_Liddell

https://www.christianitytoday.com/ct/2016/august-web-only/second-life-of-man-who-wouldnt-run-on-sunday.html