On this day in 1890, Samuel Zwemer sailed from his homeland in the United States on a Dutch liner called the Obdam. He stopped briefly in Europe to contact the only evangelical missionary group then working among Muslims. Then by train and boat, he headed for Beirut.
He lived, breathed and thought of one thing alone: "cracking open the Muslim world for the Gospel of Christ." He set up presses, under British protection in Cairo. These poured out a continual stream of books to educate Westerners about the need of Islam as well as Arabic language books to share Christ with the Arabs. He authored or co-authored at least 48 books in English, titles such as Arabia, The Cradle of Islam; Childhood in the Moslem World; and The Moslem Doctrine of God.
He often noted that in Islam the tender fatherhood of God was altogether unknown. Printed Christian prayers from his presses were prized by many of the Islamic people he served--it seems that they found them to have more "meat" than their own.
Though Zwemer was able to penetrate the cultural armor of Islam with remarkable grace, the great work he began remained unfulfilled at his death--as it does to this day.
Interestingly, while he was in London at the very beginning of his great life adventure, he bought a copy of Arabia Deserta. Many years later he sold it to T. E. Lawrence. Zwemer's exploits have none of the popular renown of Lawrence of Arabia's, but were, nonetheless, of greater boldness, vision, purpose, and effect.
Thursday, June 28
Wednesday, June 27
Sweet Sleep in Jesus
The editors at Banner of Truth received a request this past week from Billy Graham's circle of close friends to use an excerpt from The Valley of Vision at the funeral of the evangelist's beloved wife, Ruth Bell Graham. The Valley of Vision, a little collection of Puritan prayers, is a classic of deep and practical devotion. Reading this prayer, I think you'll agree--and you'll understand why the Graham family chose it:Blessed Creator,
Thou hast promised thy beloved sleep;
Give me restoring rest needful for tomorrow’s toil.
If dreams be mine, let them not be tinged with evil.
Let thy Spirit make my time of repose
A blessed temple of his holy presence.
May my frequent lying down make me familiar with death,
The bed I approach remind my of the grave,
The eyes I now close picture to me their final closing.
Keep me always ready, waiting for admittance to they presence.
Weaken my attachment to earthly things.
May I hold life loosely in my hand,
Knowing that I receive it on condition of its surrender.
As pain and suffering betoken transitory health,
May I not shrink from a death that introduces me
To the freshness of eternal youth.
I retire this night in full assurance of one day’s awakening with thee.
All glory for this blessed hope,
For the gospel of grace,
For thine unspeakable gift of Jesus,
For the fellowship of the Trinity.
Withhold not thy mercies in the night season;
Thy hand never wearies,
Thy power needs no repose,
Thine eye never sleeps.
Help me when I helpless lie,
When my conscience accuses me of sin,
When my mind is harassed by foreboding thoughts,
When my eyes are held awake by personal anxieties.
Show thyself to me as the God of all grace, love and power;
Thou hast a balm for every wound,
A solace for all anguish,
A remedy for every pain,
A peace for all disquietude.
Permit me to commit myself to thee awake or sleep.
Amen.
21 Day Stand
Every afternoon from now until July 6, young Christians are taking a stand against pornography in Nashville--praying, fasting, and crying out for the mercy of Almighty God.
Then on July 7, they will embark on a repentance walk through the streets of Nashville. Afterwards they will join with tens of thousands of others at Titans Stadium for a solemn assembly and fast to pray for the nation.
For more information about these events and the ministries that sponsor them, visit the websites of Pure Life Revolution and The Call. May God be pleased to pour out His kindness, grace, and blessing once again on this great land.
Tuesday, June 26
Reprinted Letters
The good editors of the Free St. George’s Blog have published an excellent review of the newly reprinted Letters of Thomas Chalmers. Though it is no substitute for a full biography of the great man, this volume, selected and edited by his son-in-law, John Hanna, introduced by Iaian Murray, and printed in a fine hardback edition by Banner of Truth, is most welcome indeed.
Freedom Fighter
Mario Vargas Llosa has never held political office, never been a recalcitrant captain of industry, never fought on a battle field, and never led a popular social movement, but like Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn, he has been a terror to dictators and would-be dictators--simply by writing stories. As a result, he has helped to reshape the world in which we live. This past week the Wall Street Journal published a rare profile of this remarkable champion of freedom.
Sunday, June 24
The God of Heaven and Earth and Gael
Today is the traditional festival called “Midsummer,” “Litha,” or "St. John’s Day.” In Medieval Christendom, it marked the summer solstice and the first cycle of harvests as well as commemorating the life, work, and sacrifice of John the Baptist. Thus, the festival was a was a day of delighted thanksgiving. Activities in rural English, French, Dutch, and northern German villages included the lavish decorating of the village well which then became the focal point for music recitals, feasting, rejoicing, and dancing throughout the day. As the traditional carol asserted:
When bloody Herod reigned king,
Within Judea's land,
Much woes his cruel will did bring,
By bloody fierce command.
Amongst the rest with grief oppressed,
Was good Saint John there slain,
Who on this day, 'midst sport and play,
A martyred death did gain.
In Scotland, the celebration also included a sort of “independence day” flavor commemorating the anniversary of Robert the Bruce’s great victory over the English at Bannockburn on this day in 1314. According to Sir Walter Scott, “On Midsummer Day in Cotter’s Villages all across the Highlands, Scots parish churches would afix their worship on the Everlasting Compassions of the Covenant-Keeping Laird, the God of Heaven and Earth and Gael.”
Scottish poet Robert Burns penned one of his most famous verses especially for the celebration of the day:
Scots! wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots! wham Bruce has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victory!
Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lour:
See approach proud Edward's power;
Chains and slavery!
Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!
Wha for Scotland's King and law;
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand, or freeman fa'?
Let him on wi' me!
By oppression's woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!
Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!
Let us do or die!
When bloody Herod reigned king,
Within Judea's land,
Much woes his cruel will did bring,
By bloody fierce command.
Amongst the rest with grief oppressed,
Was good Saint John there slain,
Who on this day, 'midst sport and play,
A martyred death did gain.
In Scotland, the celebration also included a sort of “independence day” flavor commemorating the anniversary of Robert the Bruce’s great victory over the English at Bannockburn on this day in 1314. According to Sir Walter Scott, “On Midsummer Day in Cotter’s Villages all across the Highlands, Scots parish churches would afix their worship on the Everlasting Compassions of the Covenant-Keeping Laird, the God of Heaven and Earth and Gael.”
Scottish poet Robert Burns penned one of his most famous verses especially for the celebration of the day:
Scots! wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Scots! wham Bruce has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victory!
Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lour:
See approach proud Edward's power;
Chains and slavery!
Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!
Wha for Scotland's King and law;
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand, or freeman fa'?
Let him on wi' me!
By oppression's woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!
Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!
Let us do or die!
At Bannockburn
In an effort to relieve the besieged Stirling Castle, England’s King Edward II, the effeminate son of the cruel Longshanks, sent troops northward into Scotland--a land that had been in constant rebellion against his sovereignty for more than a decade. First there was William Wallace and his ragged corps of Highland warriors. Now there was the loyal army of the presumptive king of an independent Scottish nation, Robert the Bruce.
Though the great castle overlooking the wide plain of Bannockburn had thus far been able to resist Bruce’s assault, Edward knew it would not be able to hold out much longer. The taking of this fortress was an achievement of which Edward was prouder than of anything else he had done in his invasion of Scotland--in the royal annals, he made it of far greater moment than even his victory over Wallace at Falkirk.
The time and the place of the inevitable battle were thus fixed by an obdurate necessity, on this day in 1314; The English were bound to relieve Stirling Castle; The Scots must prevent them. If the invaders were not met and fought at Bannockburn, they might outflank the Scots and reach the castle. And if the Scots did meet and fight them there, it was not likely there would be any other favorable field for a pitched battle anywhere in the whole of the land. The battle, therefore, would of necessity, be under the walls of the castle. Nevertheless, the odds were against the Scots--they were outnumbered by at least three to one. They would have to rely on strategy--and Bruce had a brilliant strategy.
At daybreak they met the fierce charge of the English armies. A detachment of English archers quickly wheeled around the Scottish flank and took up a position where they could rake the compact clumps of Scots spear men. But the lines held just long enough for a host of decoys--actually just a group of camp-followers--to appear along the horizon of a neighboring hill. The women and children were mistaken for a fresh army of the Scots--just exactly what Bruce had hoped. The confused English lines began to scatter. Scottish pikemen were then able to confine the English to a small land mass between the Bannock Burn--the Gaelic name for river--and the Firth of Forth. With little room to maneuver effectively, the massive English were forced into flight by a final charge of fewer than 2,000 Scots swarming down from Gillies Hill--on that hill today stands the William Wallace Memorial.
The end was rout, confused and hopeless. The pitted field added to the disasters; for though they were able to avoid it in their careful advance, many of the English were pressed into it in the retreat, and floundered among the pitfalls. Through all the history of its great wars before and since, never did England suffer a humiliation deep enough to approach even comparison with this. Besides the vast inferiority of the victorious army, Bannockburn was exceptional among battles by the utter helplessness of the defeated. There seemed to have been no rallying-point anywhere. It was as if the Scripture had been fulfilled, “The wicked flee when no man pursueth.” At last, Scotland was free.
Though the great castle overlooking the wide plain of Bannockburn had thus far been able to resist Bruce’s assault, Edward knew it would not be able to hold out much longer. The taking of this fortress was an achievement of which Edward was prouder than of anything else he had done in his invasion of Scotland--in the royal annals, he made it of far greater moment than even his victory over Wallace at Falkirk.
The time and the place of the inevitable battle were thus fixed by an obdurate necessity, on this day in 1314; The English were bound to relieve Stirling Castle; The Scots must prevent them. If the invaders were not met and fought at Bannockburn, they might outflank the Scots and reach the castle. And if the Scots did meet and fight them there, it was not likely there would be any other favorable field for a pitched battle anywhere in the whole of the land. The battle, therefore, would of necessity, be under the walls of the castle. Nevertheless, the odds were against the Scots--they were outnumbered by at least three to one. They would have to rely on strategy--and Bruce had a brilliant strategy.
At daybreak they met the fierce charge of the English armies. A detachment of English archers quickly wheeled around the Scottish flank and took up a position where they could rake the compact clumps of Scots spear men. But the lines held just long enough for a host of decoys--actually just a group of camp-followers--to appear along the horizon of a neighboring hill. The women and children were mistaken for a fresh army of the Scots--just exactly what Bruce had hoped. The confused English lines began to scatter. Scottish pikemen were then able to confine the English to a small land mass between the Bannock Burn--the Gaelic name for river--and the Firth of Forth. With little room to maneuver effectively, the massive English were forced into flight by a final charge of fewer than 2,000 Scots swarming down from Gillies Hill--on that hill today stands the William Wallace Memorial.
The end was rout, confused and hopeless. The pitted field added to the disasters; for though they were able to avoid it in their careful advance, many of the English were pressed into it in the retreat, and floundered among the pitfalls. Through all the history of its great wars before and since, never did England suffer a humiliation deep enough to approach even comparison with this. Besides the vast inferiority of the victorious army, Bannockburn was exceptional among battles by the utter helplessness of the defeated. There seemed to have been no rallying-point anywhere. It was as if the Scripture had been fulfilled, “The wicked flee when no man pursueth.” At last, Scotland was free.
Tuesday, June 19
Godlessness for Dummies
Oh boy, just what we all needed. An itty-bitty, portable bible for Atheists. I know, I know, it sounds like the punch-line to a bad joke. But, according to the Philadelphia Inquirer it's the latest craze for all those ardent doubters amongst us.
Monday, June 18
Awful Cliches
Eager to preserve the English language against a rising tide of rhetorical and grammatical nonsense, the editors of the London Telegraph asked readers to compose a piece of prose crammed with as many infuriating phrases as possible. The results would be hilarious if only they were not so evidently the currency of our everyday discourse.
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