GIP Library icon

LOG IN TO REVIEW
About the Book


"Formula for Humility" by Dag Heward-Mills explores the concept of humility and its importance in personal and spiritual growth. The book provides practical strategies for cultivating humility in everyday life, drawing from biblical teachings and personal anecdotes. Heward-Mills emphasizes the transformative power of humility in relationships, leadership, and overall well-being.

Hudson Taylor

Hudson Taylor "China is not to be won for Christ by quiet, ease-loving men and women … The stamp of men and women we need is such as will put Jesus, China, [and] souls first and foremost in everything and at every time—even life itself must be secondary." In September 1853, a little three-masted clipper slipped quietly out of Liverpool harbor with Hudson Taylor, a gaunt and wild-eyed 21-year-old missionary, aboard. He was headed for a country that was just coming into the Christian West's consciousness; only a few dozen missionaries were stationed there. By the time Taylor died a half-century later, however, China was viewed as the most fertile and challenging of mission fields as thousands volunteered annually to serve there. Radical missionary Taylor was born to James and Amelia Taylor, a Methodist couple fascinated with the Far East who had prayed for their newborn, "Grant that he may work for you in China." Years later, a teenage Hudson experienced a spiritual birth during an intense time of prayer as he lay stretched, as he later put, "before Him with unspeakable awe and unspeakable joy." He spent the next years in frantic preparation, learning the rudiments of medicine, studying Mandarin, and immersing himself ever deeper into the Bible and prayer. His ship arrived in Shanghai, one of five "treaty ports" China had opened to foreigners following its first Opium War with England. Almost immediately Taylor made a radical decision (as least for Protestant missionaries of the day): he decided to dress in Chinese clothes and grow a pigtail (as Chinese men did). His fellow Protestants were either incredulous or critical. Taylor, for his part, was not happy with most missionaries he saw: he believed they were "worldly" and spent too much time with English businessmen and diplomats who needed their services as translators. Instead, Taylor wanted the Christian faith taken to the interior of China. So within months of arriving, and the native language still a challenge, Taylor, along with Joseph Edkins, set off for the interior, setting sail down the Huangpu River distributing Chinese Bibles and tracts. When the Chinese Evangelization Society, which had sponsored Taylor, proved incapable of paying its missionaries in 1857, Taylor resigned and became an independent missionary; trusting God to meet his needs. The same year, he married Maria Dyer, daughter of missionaries stationed in China. He continued to pour himself into his work, and his small church in Ningpo grew to 21 members. But by 1861, he became seriously ill (probably with hepatitis) and was forced to return to England to recover. In England, the restless Taylor continued translating the Bible into Chinese (a work he'd begun in China), studied to become a midwife, and recruited more missionaries. Troubled that people in England seemed to have little interest in China, he wrote China: Its Spiritual Need and Claims. In one passage, he scolded, "Can all the Christians in England sit still with folded arms while these multitudes [in China] are perishing—perishing for lack of knowledge—for lack of that knowledge which England possesses so richly?" Taylor became convinced that a special organization was needed to evangelize the interior of China. He made plans to recruit 24 missionaries: two for each of the 11 unreached inland provinces and two for Mongolia. It was a visionary plan that would have left veteran recruiters breathless: it would increase the number of China missionaries by 25 percent. Taylor himself was wracked with doubt: he worried about sending men and women unprotected into the interior; at the same time, he despaired for the millions of Chinese who were dying without the hope of the gospel. In 1865 he wrote in his diary, "For two or three months, intense conflict … Thought I should lose my mind." A friend invited him to the south coast of England, to Brighton, for a break. And it was there, while walking along the beach, that Taylor's gloom lifted: "There the Lord conquered my unbelief, and I surrendered myself to God for this service. I told him that all responsibility as to the issues and consequences must rest with him; that as his servant it was mine to obey and to follow him." His new mission, which he called the China Inland Mission (CIM), had a number of distinctive features, including this: its missionaries would have no guaranteed salaries nor could they appeal for funds; they would simply trust God to supply their needs; furthermore, its missionaries would adopt Chinese dress and then press the gospel into the China interior. Within a year of his breakthrough, Taylor, his wife and four children, and 16 young missionaries sailed from London to join five others already in China working under Taylor's direction. Strains in the organization Taylor continued to make enormous demands upon himself (he saw more than 200 patients daily when he first returned) and on CIM missionaries, some of whom balked. Lewis Nicol, who accused Taylor of tyranny, had to be dismissed. Some CIM missionaries, in the wake of this and other controversies, left to join other missions, but in 1876, with 52 missionaries, CIM constituted one-fifth of the missionary force in China. Because there continued to be so many Chinese to reach, Taylor instituted another radical policy: he sent unmarried women into the interior, a move criticized by many veterans. But Taylor's boldness knew no bounds. In 1881, he asked God for another 70 missionaries by the close of 1884: he got 76. In late 1886, Taylor prayed for another 100 within a year: by November 1887, he announced 102 candidates had been accepted for service. His leadership style and high ideals created enormous strains between the London and China councils of the CIM. London thought Taylor autocratic; Taylor said he was only doing what he thought was best for the work, and then demanded more commitment from others: "China is not to be won for Christ by quiet, ease-loving men and women," he wrote. "The stamp of men and women we need is such as will put Jesus, China, [and] souls first and foremost in everything and at every time—even life itself must be secondary." Taylor's grueling work pace, both in China and abroad (to England, the United States, and Canada on speaking engagements and to recruit), was carried on despite Taylor's poor health and bouts with depression. In 1900 it became too much, and he had complete physical and mental breakdown. The personal cost of Taylor's vision was high on his family as well: his wife Maria died at age 33, and four of eight of their children died before they reached the age of 10. (Taylor eventually married Jennie Faulding, a CIM missionary.) Between his work ethic and his absolute trust in God (despite never soliciting funds, his CIM grew and prospered), he inspired thousands to forsake the comforts of the West to bring the Christian message to the vast and unknown interior of China. Though mission work in China was interrupted by the communist takeover in 1949, the CIM continues to this day under the name Overseas Missionary Fellowship (International).

How Could We Be Silent

Much to my surprise, I became a Christian as a teenager. But when I did, I was quite determined to be a secret Christian. This was partly because, to be honest, I didn’t like most of the Christians I knew. But it was also partly because, living in a very post-Christian Scotland, I wasn’t sure I could bear the social stigma. Then one day the small group of Christians at my local school found me out. And they asked if I would be willing to speak on their behalf in a debate which involved an atheist, an agnostic, a liberal Christian, and an evangelical Christian (I was to fill that last slot). With some reluctance, I agreed. After the debate, the head of the English department came up to me, shook my hand, and said, “Congratulations, young man. That is the finest performance I have ever heard you give. You almost had me persuaded that you really were a Christian.” I replied, “Sir, I am. And that is the last time anyone will say that to me!” From then on, I have tried to live my faith openly, speaking up for Christ as boldly and graciously as God enables me to, and praying he’d give me the wisdom to say a word in season for the weary, the lost, the enemy, and the seeker. Speak Up What do I mean by speaking up? Some associate it with big public protests or demonstrations. But that is not what I’m talking about here. Did Paul, Barnabas, and Luke join forces with Lydia, Priscilla, and Aquila to organize demonstrations and marches in Greek cities to protest idolatry and the emperor cult? Sometimes when we hear the exhortation that Christians should be speaking up, that’s the image we have in mind: political action, media pressure, demonstrations, and protests. But that’s not what the New Testament church did. And in an increasingly hostile and anti-Christian West, it’s not normally what we should do either. Now, of course, there’s a place for Christians to use media and other public forums to prophetically speak truth to power in our degenerate cultures, and a few of us are called to do this. But most of us aren’t called to address the masses or the power elites, but to speak up for Jesus, proclaim his word, declare his glory, advocate for his people, and defend the poor right where we are, in the spheres of influence we are given. In Scotland, when we take each other aside for a quick chat, we will sometimes say, “Can I have a wee word?” That phrase is appropriate for this discussion. When I talk about speaking up as a Christian, I mean having a “wee word” about Jesus to the people we meet. Let me give a couple of personal examples. Ordinary, Courageous Speaking As a pastor, evangelist, and apologist, I now do a lot of speaking up for Christ in many public forums. But the vast majority of us Christians are called to speak up in our ordinary spheres. And when we do, doors open. I think of the football player who, when we met for lunch, quickly told me that he was a born-again Christian. A friend that he had brought along asked, “Am I one of those born-again Christians?” The new footballer replied, “If you have to ask, you probably are not!” From that discussion began a Bible study with some of the other players. Speaking up opened a real door for the gospel. And then there’s the secretary who, after attending an author’s lecture on Christian courage at a bookstore, returned to work the next day and told her boss that she was ashamed that she had never once mentioned she was a Christian, even though she had worked in that office for several years. The boss, not a believer himself, was delighted and told a colleague who happened to be an elder in a local evangelical church. And how can I forget the parent who, with trembling knees, went to the head teacher of her local school to ask why a form of sex education that went against the Creator’s instructions was being indoctrinated into the children. Rather than being laughed at or ignored (as she feared), the head teacher listened and sought to make some programmatic changes. And how about the social worker who worked with mostly atheist colleagues. Her patient witness, hard work, cheerful disposition, and refusal to live by the standards of the culture resulted many years later in a couple of her colleagues coming to church, and one of them becoming a believer. Break the Silence Patience is needed. Speaking up is not easy. We speak up because we love Jesus and we want to see him glorified. We speak up, not to defend ourselves, but because we love those we are speaking to and want them to share in the greatest gift of all: Christ. Here is the great promise for every Christian: when we speak up in faithfulness to God’s word, it is not we who are speaking, but the Holy Spirit who is speaking through us (Mark 13:11; 2 Corinthians 5:20). And his word will never return to him empty (Isaiah 55:11). For any who know and experience the beauty and glory of Christ, the question is not whether we should speak up, but rather how on earth can we keep silent? Article by David Robertson

Feedback
Suggestionsuggestion box
x