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About the Book
"Becoming a Contagious Christian" explores how individuals can effectively share their faith with others in a genuine and impactful way. The book provides practical strategies and principles for becoming a more effective witness for Christ and spreading the message of Christianity to those around them.
David Livingstone
"[I am] serving Christ when shooting a buffalo for my men or taking an observation, [even if some] will consider it not sufficiently or even at all missionary."
With four theatrical words, "Dr. Livingstone, I presume?"—words journalist Henry Morton Stanley rehearsed in advance—David Livingstone became immortal. Stanley stayed with Livingstone for five months and then went off to England to write his bestseller, How I Found Livingstone. Livingstone, in the meantime, got lost again—in a swamp literally up to his neck. Within a year and a half, he died in a mud hut, kneeling beside his cot in prayer.
Berlin Congress spurs African independent churches
The whole civilized world wept. They gave him a 21-gun salute and a hero's funeral among the saints in Westminster Abbey. "Brought by faithful hands over land and sea," his tombstone reads, "David Livingstone: missionary, traveler, philanthropist. For 30 years his life was spent in an unwearied effort to evangelize the native races, to explore the undiscovered secrets, and to abolish the slave trade." He was Mother Teresa, Neil Armstrong, and Abraham Lincoln rolled into one.
Highway man
At age 25, after a childhood spent working 14 hours a day in a cotton mill, followed by learning in class and on his own, Livingstone was captivated by an appeal for medical missionaries to China. As he trained, however, the door to China was slammed shut by the Opium War. Within six months, he met Robert Moffat, a veteran missionary of southern Africa, who enchanted him with tales of his remote station, glowing in the morning sun with "the smoke of a thousand villages where no missionary had been before."
For ten years, Livingstone tried to be a conventional missionary in southern Africa. He opened a string of stations in "the regions beyond," where he settled down to station life, teaching school and superintending the garden. After four years of bachelor life, he married his "boss's" daughter, Mary Moffat.
From the beginning, Livingstone showed signs of restlessness. After his only convert decided to return to polygamy, Livingstone felt more called than ever to explore. During his first term in South Africa, Livingstone made some of the most prodigious—and most dangerous—explorations of the nineteenth century. His object was to open a "Missionary Road"—"God's Highway," he also called it—1,500 miles north into the interior to bring "Christianity and civilization" to unreached peoples.
Explorer for Christ
On these early journeys, Livingstone's interpersonal quirks were already apparent. He had the singular inability to get along with other Westerners. He fought with missionaries, fellow explorers, assistants, and (later) his brother Charles. He held grudges for years. He had the temperament of a book-reading loner, emotionally inarticulate except when he exploded with Scottish rage. He held little patience for the attitudes of missionaries with "miserably contracted minds" who had absorbed "the colonial mentality" regarding the natives. When Livingstone spoke out against racial intolerance, white Afrikaners tried to drive him out, burning his station and stealing his animals.
He also had problems with the London Missionary Society, who felt that his explorations were distracting him from his missionary work. Throughout his life, however, Livingstone always thought of himself as primarily a missionary, "not a dumpy sort of person with a Bible under his arms, [but someone] serving Christ when shooting a buffalo for my men or taking an observation, [even if some] will consider it not sufficiently or even at all missionary."
Though alienated from the whites, the natives loved his common touch, his rough paternalism, and his curiosity. They also thought he might protect them or supply them with guns. More than most Europeans, Livingstone talked to them with respect, Scottish laird to African chief. Some explorers took as many as 150 porters when they traveled; Livingstone traveled with 30 or fewer.
On an epic, three-year trip from the Atlantic Ocean to the Indian Ocean (reputedly the first by a European) Livingstone was introduced to the 1,700-mile-long Zambezi. The river was also home to Victoria Falls, Livingstone's most awe-inspiring discovery. The scene was "so lovely," he later wrote, that it "must have been gazed upon by angels in their flight."
Despite its beauty, the Zambezi was a river of human misery. It linked the Portuguese colonies of Angola and Mozambique, the main suppliers of slaves for Brazil, who in turn sold to Cuba and the United States. Though Livingstone was partially driven by a desire to create a British colony, his primary ambition was to expose the slave trade and cut it off at the source. The strongest weapon in this task, he believed, was Christian commercial civilization. He hoped to replace the "inefficient" slave economy with a capitalist economy: buying and selling goods instead of people.
The ill-fated Zambezi expedition
After a brief heroic return to England, Livingstone returned to Africa, this time to navigate 1,000 miles up the Zambezi in a brass-and-mahogany steamboat to establish a mission near Victoria Falls. The boat was state-of-the-art technology but proved too frail for the expedition. It leaked horribly after repeatedly running aground on sandbars.
Livingstone pushed his men beyond human endurance. When they reached a 30-foot waterfall, he waved his hand, as if to wish it away, and said, "That's not supposed to be there." His wife, who had just given birth to her sixth child, died in 1862 beside the river, only one of several lives claimed on the voyage. Two years later, the British government, which had no interest in "forcing steamers up cataracts," recalled Livingstone and his mission party.
A year later, he was on his way back to Africa again, this time leading an expedition sponsored by the Royal Geographical Society and wealthy friends. "I would not consent to go simply as a geographer," he emphasized, but as biographer Tim Jeal wrote, "It would be hard to judge whether the search for the Nile's source or his desire to expose the slave trade was his dominant motive." The source of the Nile was the great geographical puzzle of the day. But more important to Livingstone was the possibility of proving that the Bible was true by tracing the African roots of Judaism and Christianity.
For two years he simply disappeared, without a letter or scrap of information. He reported later that he had been so ill he could not even lift a pen, but he was able to read the Bible straight through four times. Livingstone's disappearance fascinated the public as much as Amelia Earhart's a few generations later.
When American journalist Henry Stanley found Livingstone, the news exploded in England and America. Papers carried special editions devoted to the famous meeting. In August 1872, in precarious health, Livingstone shook Stanley's hand and set out on his final journey.
When Livingstone had arrived in Africa in 1841, it was as exotic as outer space, called the "Dark Continent" and the "White Man's Graveyard." although the Portuguese, Dutch, and English were pushing into the interior, African maps had blank unexplored areas—no roads, no countries, no landmarks. Livingstone helped redraw the maps, exploring what are now a dozen countries, including South Africa, Rwanda, Angola, and the Republic of the Congo (formerly Zaire). And he made the West aware of the continuing evil of African slavery, which led to its being eventually outlawed.
we cannot cling to bitterness and god
Forgiveness . Even the word can make us bristle. Past wounds instinctively spring to mind, making forgiveness feel impossible (or at least unnatural). What feels natural is dwelling on the horrible things that others have done to us, rehearsing their wrongs and plotting our retaliation, if only in our imagination. I know. I have nursed my anger as I have lingered over the ways people have hurt me. A close friend who ended our long-standing relationship over a misunderstanding. A woman whom I mentored for years who slandered me to others. My husband who unexpectedly left me for someone else. The doctor whose careless mistake ended my son’s life. “We cannot hold on to bitterness and hold on to God.” I remember sitting in a counselor’s office, talking about a deep betrayal. When the counselor mentioned forgiveness, I was furious. It felt like he was suggesting I offer that person a “get out of jail free” card, which was unthinkable after all I had suffered. Just hearing the word made me angry. Why should I forgive?  Especially when the person didn’t even seem sorry. But as my counselor unpacked the biblical principles of forgiveness, I couldn’t ignore his words. I realized I had not fully understood what forgiveness was — and what it was not. What Forgiveness Is and Is Not There are many definitions of forgiveness, but a simple one is to surrender the right to hurt others in response to the way they’ve hurt us . Forgiveness means refusing to retaliate or hold bitterness against people for the ways they have wounded us. It is a unilateral act — not conditional on the person being repentant or even willing to acknowledge what they’ve done. Forgiveness is not  saying that sin doesn’t matter. It is not approving of what the other person has done, minimizing the offense, or denying we’ve been wronged. Forgiveness is  acknowledging that the other person has sinned against us and may never be able to make it right. The apostle Paul writes, “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you ” (Ephesians 4:32). If God in Christ forgave us, then forgiving someone cannot  mean diminishing the wrong they’ve done. God could never do that with sin and remain just. Forgiveness doesn’t always mean reconciliation or restoration. And it does not require restoring trust or inviting the people who hurt us back into a relationship. Forgiveness is unconditional, but meaningful reconciliation and restoration are conditional (in the gospel and in human relationships) on the offender’s genuine repentance, humble willingness to accept the consequences of his actions, and a desire by both parties to work on the relationship. Forgiving people also doesn’t mean they won’t experience consequences for their sin. When we forgive them, however, we leave those consequences to God, who says, “Vengeance is mine, I will repay” (Romans 12:19). This doesn’t mean we may not pursue legal action, if warranted, against someone who has hurt us. In certain circumstances, that may be vital for the rehabilitation of the offender or for protecting other potential victims. Forgiveness is costly. In the Bible, it involves shedding blood (Hebrews 9:22). Sacrifice. Death. Honestly, the first step of forgiveness still often feels like death. I want to cling to my right to be angry and often resent being asked to give that up. It all seems so unfair. My flesh still demands some type of retribution. My resistance shows me I need God’s help to understand forgiveness and to truly forgive. Where Do We Begin? I have often had to say, Lord, I don’t want to forgive now, but could you make me willing to forgive? You have forgiven all my sins and I know anything I forgive others is small by comparison  (Matthew 18:21–35). But I cannot do this without you. Please help me. Often, I have to repeat this prayer until God changes my heart. When he does, he usually helps me see the wounds of the person who has hurt me — wounds that do not diminish, justify, or excuse the offense, but that do soften my attitude toward the person. Once I am engaged in wanting to forgive, I begin the process of forgiveness by naming what has happened and all the negative repercussions from the person’s actions and words. I include everything. What I’ve lost. What’s been hard. How it’s made me feel. I want to know what I’m letting go of before I forgive so I can move forward, knowing I have counted the cost. For most offenses, forgiveness is both an initial decision to let go of bitterness as well as a long, ongoing process. When offenses come to mind and painful memories resurface, I must intentionally stop rehearsing them and ask the Lord to help me release those thoughts and practice forgiveness. Why Forgiveness Is Vital to Joy For years I didn’t realize the importance of forgiveness and somehow assumed it was optional; now I see it as a command. “As the Lord has forgiven you,” Colossians 3:13 says, “so you also must  forgive.” So to truly forgive those who have wronged us, we must first receive God’s forgiveness, acknowledging our need before him, which empowers us to forgive others. Christian forgiveness is vertical before it is horizontal. Throughout Scripture, our Lord intertwines his forgiveness of us with our forgiveness of others (Matthew 6:14–15). And like all of his commands, it is always for our good. “Joy and sorrow often coexist, but joy and bitterness cannot.” Forgiving those who have hurt us sets us free. It keeps bitterness from taking root, bitterness that would defile us and everyone around us (Ephesians 4:31). When we cling to resentment, we unknowingly give our offender ongoing power over our hearts, which keeps us enslaved to our anger. This prison we have created pulls us away from our Lord because we cannot hold on to bitterness and hold on to God. Correspondingly, forgiving those who have wronged us releases the hold of bitterness on us. God, who has forgiven our enormous debt, gives us the power to forgive others. It is his power, not ours. This is the miracle of Christian forgiveness: when we forgive, Christ does something profound in us and for us. Those wounds inflicted by others firmly graft us into Christ, the vine, and his life flows all the more powerfully through us. The process unleashes God’s power in our lives in an unparalleled way, making forgiveness one of the most life-changing steps we ever take. Forgiveness, Freedom, and Peace Joy and sorrow often coexist, but joy and bitterness cannot. Bitterness and unforgiveness rob our lives of vitality, peace, and the refreshing joy of God’s presence. We see the power of forgiveness and grace in the lives of Joseph (Genesis 50:15–21) and Job (Job 42:7–10), who both forgave those who wronged them. And we see the hold of unforgiveness and rage on others like Joash, who murdered the priest who disagreed with him (2 Chronicles 24:20–22), and even on Jonah, who was angry at God’s compassion (Jonah 4:1–3). Being able to forgive not only changes our present; it changes our future. When we forgive, we can begin walking in freedom and joy. I don’t know where you are in your journey of forgiveness. Perhaps the wound for you is still fresh, and you need time to process all that’s happened. Maybe you’ve been holding on to bitterness for a long time, and God is asking you to let go. If that’s you, I encourage you to pray. To trust God. To forgive your offender. You won’t regret it. And after you have forgiven, after you’ve been released from the prison of bitterness, you may be amazed at how quickly God begins to flood your life with the joy and peace you lost.
