And You Think You’re Busy?
I just finished reading F. Deauville Walker’s biography of William Carey, pioneer missionary to India. Here is the record of one day in India reconstructed from his diary in 1806.
He rose at a quarter to six, read a chapter from the Hebrew Bible and spent some time in private devotion. At seven the servants came in for family prayers in Bengali, after which, while waiting for his chota (i.e. little breakfast), he spent some time reading Persian with a munshi and then a portion of Scripture in Hindistani. The moment breakfast was over, he settled down to the translation of the Ramayana from Sanskrit into English. At ten o’clock he went to the college, where his classes and other duties kept him until two o’clock. On returning to his lodgings, he examined a proofsheet of his Bengali translation of Jeremiah until dinnertime. After this meal, assisted by the chief pundit of the college, he translated most of the eighth chapter of Matthew’s Gospel into Sanskrit, until six o’clock when he sat down with a Telugu pundit more fully to study that language. At half past seven he preached in English to a congregation of forty persons, including one of the judges (from whom at the close of the service he got a subscription of five hundred rupees toward the new chapel). At nine o’clock, “the service being over and the congregation gone,” he sat down and translated Ezekiel 11 into Bengali—which took him nearly two hours. He wrote a letter to a friend in England; then, after reading a chapter from his Greek Testament by way of private devotion, he went to bed.
Spiritual Eloquence in Communication
Eloquence isn’t necessarily flowery language so much as heartfelt expression. Consider this prayer of a country preacher in Red Rock, Mississippi:
“O Lord, give Thy servant this mornin’ the eyes of the eagle and the wisdom of the owl; connect his soul with the gospel telephone in the central skies; luminate his brow with the Sun of Heaven; possess his mind with love for the people; turpentine his imagination; grease his lips with possom oil; loosen his tongue with the sledge hammer of Thy power; ‘lectrify his brain with the lightnin’ of the word; put ‘petual motion on his arms; fill him plum full of dynamite of Thy glory; ‘noint him all over with the kerosene oil of Thy salvation and set him on the fire. Amen!”
Reason to Cheer
The streets were lined with crowds, cheering the marching regiments about to leave for overseas. A recruit, who had watched the crowd for some time, asked, “Who are all those people cheering?” The veteran replied, “They are people who are not going.”
Risks of Appearing Foolish
Author Rudyard Kipling tells how on a world tour at a certain port, General Booth boarded the ship. He was seen off by a horde of tambourine-beating Salvationists. The whole thing revolted Kipling’s fastidious soul. Later he got to know the general and told him how much he disapproved of this kind of thing. “Young man,” said Booth, “if I thought that I could win one more soul for Christ by standing on my hands and beating a tambourine with my feet, I would learn to do it.” The real enthusiast does not care if others think he is a fool. –William Barclay
Law and Grace
A tyrannical husband demanded that his wife conform to rigid standards of his choosing. She was to do certain things for him as a wife, mother, and homemaker. In time she came to hate her husband as much as she hated his list of rules and regulations. Then, one day he died—mercifully as far as she was concerned.
Some time later, she fell in love with another man and married him. She and her new husband lived on a perpetual honeymoon. Joyfully, she devoted herself to his happiness and welfare. One day she ran across one of the sheets of do’s and don’ts her first husband had written for her. To her amazement she found that she was doing for her second husband all the things her first husband had demanded of her, even though her new husband had never once suggested them. She did them as an expression of her love for him and her desire to please him.
Effort with a Capital “E”
I was impressed several years ago that Eugene Ormandy dislocated a shoulder while leading the Philadelphia Orchestra. I do not know what they were playing. Certainly not Mozart. Perhaps Stravinsky. But at any rate, he was giving all of himself to it! And I have asked myself sadly, “Did I ever dislocate anything, even a necktie?”
Too Much Caution
Cautious, careful people, always casting about to preserve their reputation and social standing, never can bring about a reform. Those who are really in earnest must be willing to be anything or nothing in the world’s estimation. –Susan B. Anthony