From the Minister... 

Dear friends

‘When I run, I feel his pleasure.’

Many of us will be familiar with this quote, the most famous words attributed to the great Scottish runner Eric Liddell and spoken by him in the Oscar winning film Chariots of Fire. I thought of this line a few weeks ago, when reading a wonderful biography of Liddell, For the Glory, written by the renowned sportswriter Duncan Hamilton.

It turns out that those words that many people quote in conversation about Liddell were never actually spoken by him. They were the creation of the film’s scriptwriter, Colin Welland, and yet you can easily imagine Liddell saying them. Having now read the whole story of his life, I’ve found it hard to stop thinking about Liddell, inspired and challenged by his example in equal measure.

Liddell is best known for the unlikely victory he achieved in the 1924 Olympics in Paris. He gave up a highly promising future in Rugby Union (including seven appearances for Scotland in the Five Nations championships of 1922 and 1923), to focus on sprinting. His strongest distance was the 100 metres, but, as a committed Christian, he withdrew from it when he realised that the heats would be run on a Sunday. He ran instead in the 400 metres and went to Paris having only previously competed at that distance on eleven occasions. He not only won Olympic gold but broke the world record in the final.

Since then, many people have marvelled at Liddell’s athletic achievements, without knowing the remarkable course that he took in the rest of his life.

Having won Olympic gold at the age of 22, Liddell had the world at his feet. Most experts believe he would been in his prime and a certainty to win further medals at the 1928 games in Amsterdam. Yet he astonished the world by walking away from athletics, returning to China where he served as a missionary, first in Tianjin, where he had grown up, and then in the town of Xiaozhang. He stayed in China despite a horrific rise in violence, first the war between government forces and communist revolutionaries and then the conflict with invading Japanese armies.

In 1943, like many other missionaries, he was imprisoned at the notorious Weihsien Internment Camp, where more than 2,000 civilians were kept in conditions that are so horrific as to almost defy description, forced to work despite malnutrition and illness caused by a lack of food and sanitation and facing routine cruelty from their guards. Liddell died from a brain tumour in Weihsien in February 1945, at the age of 43 and having never seen the youngest of his three daughters.

A few weeks on from reading the story of Liddell’s, I still can’t stop thinking about him. There are three aspects of his story that have made an especially strong impression on me.

Firstly, there’s his sense of duty, his unwavering commitment to God’s call on his life. From an early age, long before discovering his athletic prowess, Liddell was convinced that God wanted him in China. No amount of fame or monetary reward was ever going to persuade him to abandon that vocation. It was simply inconceivable to Liddell that he would do anything else, despite the bewilderment with which many regarded his decision.

Secondly, there’s Liddell’s character, a decency, kindness and cheerfulness that seems to have made an impression on everyone he met. The appalling conditions in Weihsien dehumanised many of its inmates, but not Liddell, who was almost otherworldly in his response, taking it upon himself to serve those around him and keep them in good spirits. The impact he had on those around him is best summed up the diary entry of a fellow prisoner: ‘His passing stunned us. We could hardly believe it was true. We confided in him, went to him for advice, looked on him as probably the most perfect and honourable Christian friend we had ever known and the whole camp feels that in losing Eric they have lost a real friend. He was loved by everyone… It is my prayer that I may live like Eric, a life that is exemplary, lovely, useful and full of caring service to others.’ 

Thirdly, I find myself wondering about God’s providence. Why did a man so remarkable in gifting and character spend so much of his life in obscurity? Liddell never mentioned his athletic achievements to those he ministered to in rural China. There was no point, given that they’d never heard of the Olympic games. And why did he die so young and in such dreadful circumstances, far away from his young wife and family? But as I think about all of this, I find myself brought up short by the words of Jesus in John 12:24: Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.

We have such a limited perspective, attaching significance only to the things we can see and the outcomes we can measure. Who knows how many lives were changed in rural China through meeting Liddell? How many people were kept from total despair by his gentle presence in Weihsien? And how many times have I have made plans based on my limited assumptions about the circumstances in which God works and how best to witness to his character?

Wishing you God’s grace and peace, Trevor