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"Shake Off the Dust" by Jerry Finch is a memoir that tells the story of the author's journey from his troubled childhood to ultimately finding purpose in rescuing and advocating for neglected and abused horses. The book highlights the power of forgiveness, redemption, and the healing bonds between humans and animals.

Adoniram Judson

Adoniram Judson Born in Malden, Massachusetts, the son of Adoniram Judson, Sr., a Congregational clergyman, and Abigail (Brown), Judson graduated from Brown University (B.A., M.A.) and in the first class of Andover Theological Seminary (1810). His interest in missions began in 1809 when he read Claudius Buchanan‘s sermon “The Star in the East.” With ministerial friends he started the Society of Inquiry, a seminary study group on missions. In 1810 he was licensed to preach by the Orange, Vermont, Congregational Association preparatory to the pastoral ministry; however, he had strong inclinations toward overseas missions. In June of that year, Judson, Samuel Newell, Samuel Nott, Jr., and Gordon Hall presented themselves to the Massachusetts General Association for missionary service, and the American Board of Commissioners for Foreign Missions (ABCFM) was formed as a result. Following an unsuccessful attempt to secure an appointment from the London Missionary Society in England, Judson persuaded the ABCFM to support three couples and two single men on a mission to the East. Judson was the lead candidate of the first commissioning service for the American overseas missionaries held at Salem (Massachusetts) Tabernacle on February 6, 1812. Following a sendoff with great fanfare, Judson and his bride, Ann (Haseltine), sailed with the Newells for India in 1812. During the four-month voyage, the couple carefully studied the baptismal positions of the English Baptists in order to controvert the Baptist position; however, when they arrived at Calcutta, they adopted Baptist principles and were baptized by William Carey. Upon their change of sentiments, the Judsons resigned from the ABCFM and plans were laid for the creation of a Baptist mission society in the United States. By order of the British East India Company, the Judsons were forced to leave India. Surreptitiously escaping to Rangoon, Burma (Myanmar), in 1813, they established a station that became the first mission of American Baptists. Their work included evangelism and Bible translation. In 1842, following completion of Judsons’s first dictionary, the couple relocated to Ava, to establish greater influence with the government. However, Adoniram Judson was charged with being an English spy and was imprisoned in June 1824. In a 21-month period of incarceration during the Anglo-Burmese War, he suffered from fever and malnutrition and underwent a forced march. As a result of the courage and resourcefulness of his wife, he was released in February 1826 to serve as a translator for the Burmese government during negotiations for the Treaty of Yandabo. Ann Judson died of complications of smallpox later the same year. To enlarge his efforts, Judson moved his mission to Moulmein in 1828. There, with the assistance of Jonathan Wade, he built a church and school and continued work on the Burmese Bible, which he completed in 1834. Later that year, he married Sarah Hall Boardman, widow of George Dana Boardman and a gifted linguist and teacher. In 1845, following the birth of their eight child, Sarah’s health declined and the Judsons embarked for the United States. Sarah died en route; Judson completed the trip and remained in the United States for nine months’ furlough. While his strength had been greatly reduced and he suffered chronic laryngitis, he was hailed as a hero throughout the Christian community. While at Madison University in upstate New York, he met and married Emily Chubbock, a writer and educator. They returned to Burma in 1846 for continued work on an enlarged Burmese dictionary, which was finished in 1849. Shortly afterward, Judson contracted a respiratory fever and, attempting to travel to a better climate, died at sea. Brackney, William H., “Judson, Adoniram,” in Biographical Dictionary of Christian Missions, ed. Gerald H. Anderson (New York: Macmillan Reference USA, 1998), 345-46. This article is reprinted from Biographical Dictionary of Christian Missions, Macmillan Reference USA, copyright © 1998 Gerald H. Anderson, by permission of Macmillan Reference USA, New York, NY. All rights reserved.

If God Approves, Let Men Condemn

It may appear, at first glance, to be an odd text to hang in your bedroom: Blessed are ye, when men shall revile you, and persecute you, and shall say all manner of evil against you falsely, for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceeding glad: for great is your reward in heaven: for so persecuted they the prophets which were before you. (Matthew 5:11–12 KJV) Whereas others might draw from a thousand wells before this one, Susannah Spurgeon framed Jesus’s words to remind her husband, Charles, of Jesus’s upside-down perspective. When his disciples face bitter opposition for his name’s sake, the proper response should be joy. “Spurgeon was slandered in the newspapers, ridiculed by his opponents, and censured by many evangelical ministers.” When we consider this Baptist giant, when we read his stirring sermons, when we remember that his life’s work rivaled that of one hundred men, when we read of the revival and the winning of countless souls to Christ, we can imagine the Prince of Preachers encountering little but unbroken success. Compared with so many of our ministries, his seemed to soar high in the clouds. We rarely consider, as Iain Murray contends, The Forgotten Spurgeon — the Spurgeon who needed Matthew 5:11–12 hanging on his wall. Forgotten Prince The forgotten Spurgeon stood among the tornadoes of several great controversies in his day. His protestation against Arminianism, his disgust at baptismal regeneration, and his resistance to an evangelical unity founded upon fragments of Christian doctrine (known as the Downgrade Controversy) made him the target for many arrows. This Spurgeon, especially at the beginning and end of his ministry, had reason to reckon himself as “the scum of the earth” (24–25). The name Spurgeon, which we regard fondly, was, by estimation of its owner, “kicked about the street like a football” (28). He had occasion to remark in a sermon, “Scarce a day rolls over my head in which the most villainous abuse, the most fearful slander is not uttered against me both privately and by the public press; every engine is employed to put down God’s minister — every lie that man can invent is hurled at me” (63). This Spurgeon was slandered in the newspapers, ridiculed by his opponents, and censured by many evangelical ministers who he anticipated would be his allies. This Spurgeon was a living example of the happy — but often hated — man of God to whom Jesus spoke in the Sermon on the Mount. Fleeing Compromise What can we learn from this forgotten Spurgeon? This Spurgeon can teach us to handle controversy manfully and without compromising. His convictions, which he held to his dying day, cost him dearly. He did not practice that vice he so clearly preached against: “I think there is scarcely a Christian man or woman that has been able to go all the way to heaven and yet quietly hide himself and run from bush to bush, skulking into glory. Christianity and cowardice? What a contradiction in terms!” (“Speak for Yourself — a Challenge”). If we would cast away the temptation to tiptoe into glory, and be of real benefit for Christ’s name in this world, Spurgeon teaches us that we would do well to resist loving our own names, be comfortable in the minority, and recognize (and reject) false unity. 1. Don’t fall in love with your own name. “Let my name perish, but let Christ’s name last forever! Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Crown him Lord of all!” (43) Spurgeon warns us of falling in love with our own reputations and influence. This self-love, he identified, is a main ingredient in the undoing of the best of us. He exposes the steps to compromise of the person initially used by God: The temptation comes to be careful of the position he has gained, and to do nothing to endanger it. The man, so lately a faithful man of God, compromises with worldlings, and to quiet his own conscience invents a theory by which such compromises are justified and even commended. He receives the praises of “the judicious”; he has, in truth, gone over to the enemy. The whole force of his former life now tells upon the wrong side. (170) How many times have we seen or experienced this drift? First, we are somehow exalted for special use. Then we quietly begin to notice it and relish the attention. Falling in love with recognition, we tighten our grip around our platforms in fear of losing them. We then calculate what we say, filtering out anything that may weaken our influence — including the unfavorable truths of Scripture. And finally, faced with the thing we used to call compromise, we invent reasons to support what we’ve become — why we’ve beaten the sword into a plowshare. “When we begin sharing truth based on how well that truth will be received, we are halfway to compromise.” Fierce loves fixed on unworthy objects mold Christians into cowards. If we have begun to love the music of our own name, manage our brand, or consider our popularity as necessary to the advancement of Christ’s kingdom, we have begun building our own kingdoms. May we say with Spurgeon, “I count my own character, popularity, and usefulness to be as the small dust of the balance compared with fidelity to the Lord Jesus” (219). It is Christ we proclaim, not ourselves (2 Corinthians 4:5). 2. Be comfortable in the minority. “Long ago I ceased to count heads. Truth is usually in the minority in this evil world. I have faith in the Lord Jesus for myself, a faith burned into me as with a hot iron. I thank God, what I believe I shall believe, even if I believe it alone.” (146) Have you ever felt the temptation to count heads — or followers, likes, and shares — to see what you should or should not say? I have. When we begin sharing truth based on how well that truth will be received, we are halfway to compromise. Spurgeon counsels us to consider the cost beforehand: truth is often in the minority; to stand with it means you may stand alone. Yet those who stand for Christ’s truth never truly stand alone. You may go as Esther before the king without kin beside you, resolved that if you perish, you perish; you may preach like Stephen, as crowds press in around you, shutting their ears and hurling stones; you may rebuke King Herod’s adultery alone or say with Paul, “At my first defense no one came to stand by me” (2 Timothy 4:16) — but Christ shall be with you, even until the end of the age (Matthew 28:20). And if your cause is true, you will find, like Elijah, you are not the only one not to bow the knee to Baal (1 Kings 19:14, 18). 3. Recognize false unity. “It is, of course, the most easy to flesh and blood to deal in generalities, to denounce sectarianism, and claim to be of an ultra-catholic spirit; but though rough and rugged, it is required of the loyal servant of King Jesus to maintain all his crown rights and stand up for every word of his laws. Friends chide us and foes abhor us when we are very jealous for the Lord God of Israel, but what do these things matter if the Master approves?” (18) Error loves vagueness. As in Spurgeon’s day, the temptation to tolerate all positions and accept all perspectives on truth is strong in ours. We are told it is prejudiced, narrow, and even unchristian to draw lines. But to Spurgeon, promoting a type of “Christian unity” whose common denominator sinks lower than genuine Christianity in the first place is unacceptable. Unity of Jew and Gentile into one new man is bought with the blood of Christ; unity of gospel truth and gospel untruth is unity brought about by Satan. Orthodox Christianity, he argued, is distinct. Not all views can be true. When the only standard left is for all in the flock to have four legs, wolves and goats stand at ease among us. The trend toward an undoctrinal, atheological, shapeless evangelicalism, beginning in Spurgeon’s day and seemingly ripening in ours, is one of the quickest ways to compromise our fidelity to Christ and witness in the world. “Truth is often in the minority; to stand with it means you may stand alone.” In saying this, Spurgeon did not intend to divide over every possible theological difference — lest every man be an island unto himself. But Spurgeon chafed at minimizing Christian zeal and truth in order to bring together contrasting theologies and to mix liberalism with historic Christianity. We may be called particular or dogmatic, but what do we care if what we promote is the Master’s truth? Though the Heavens Fall “It is yours and mine to do the right though the heavens fall, and follow the command of Christ whatever the consequence may be. “That is strong meat,” do you say? Be strong men, then, and feed thereon.” (171) His beloved wife, who hung Matthew 5:11–12 in their bedroom, said after his death at the age of 57, “His fight for the faith . . . cost him his life.” He fought the good fight of faith, he kept the faith, he finished the race (2 Timothy 4:7), claiming before his death, “My work is done” (173). He lived for his Lord, and now he basks in his presence. To those of us who lag behind him, traversing our own times with all of their challenges and opportunities, temptations and labors, take up his oft-quoted hymn as we continue on in our race of faith: Must I be carried to the skies On flowery beds of ease, While others fought to win the prize And sailed through bloody seas? Since I must fight if I would reign, Increase my courage, Lord! I’ll bear the toil, endure the pain, Supported by thy word. Though the heavens fall, though the earth gives way, though controversy and temptations of spiritual compromise stand before us, may we heed this forgotten Spurgeon, hang Matthew 5:11–12 in our hearts, and live before men and devils with the courage and hope that only Christ supplies. Article by Greg Morse

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