Eric always aspired to do his best—in everything. If he contained a shred of hubris, it may have asserted itself in his insistent perfectionism, which could and did rub certain people the wrong way. This characteristic would often rear its head during his decision-making process. The selfish route versus the selfless route had often been employed for major life decisions, particularly for ministry-minded people like himself. But delineating between the two motives was never easy.
After a decade and a half of service, Eric was one of the elder statesmen of the Tientsin missionary community. He did not want to completely carry his witness for Christ out of China, particularly at a time he believed it was most needed. He felt very strongly about that, and Florence agreed.
The godlier, selfless Christian path would be for Eric to serve God and stay in China alone. Or was that the selfish path? Did his roles as missionary and pastor trump his roles as husband and father? Sending his family to Toronto alone would put added stress on Florence, leaving her to raise three little ones on her own. Yet even in China, they were so often separated.
Still . . .
Eric and Flo ultimately decided that he would stay serving in China, and she and the girls would return to Toronto. Eric would remain for only one year—two at most, he assured her. They were both young and strong. Soon enough, they’d reunite, either in China to continue the work or in Toronto to determine what lay in store for them during their next season of life.
Either way, they’d be together.
Temporary separation had always been understood as a potential reality within the realm of missionary work. By staying, Eric could focus on gospel proclamation exclusively.
A lovely sunny day in May 1941 cast a shadow upon Eric’s family as they said their final farewells. Eric insisted that Flo and the girls make their voyage on a Japanese vessel, which they agreed would be the safest transport, so they made their way to Kobe, Japan, where the female Liddells had tickets to board the Nita Maru.
The day of departure, while Eric helped his family to their cabin, Florence kept her hand on her rounding belly. She didn’t feel well, but whether it was her pregnancy or the thought of leaving her husband behind in a war-torn country, she couldn’t be sure. Heather skipped about on deck, content with the lollipop her father had given her. Patricia, equally delighted with her treat, received special instructions from her father.
He sat the girls down next to their mother and whispered in Patricia’s ear, “Tricia, I want you to look after your mother, and I want you to look after Heather, and help with this new baby that’s coming, and I want you to do this—promise me that you will until I return.”
“I will, Daddy. I promise,” she replied.
Eric kissed them all, and after final, loving embraces, he made his way off the ship. Moments later, he turned to see his family waving madly at him from the upper deck.
“Good-bye, Daddy!” the girls shouted.
Eric waved back.
“I love you! I love you! Come home soon!”
CHAPTER 20
AN UNEXPECTED OPPORTUNITY
These have been written so that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God; and that believing you may have life in His name.
John 20:31, NASB
May 1941
Those who love God never meet for the last time.
The words his mother had spoken to him so long ago jarred Eric from his work, and he looked up. Where had they come from?
Surely, soon enough, he would see Flossie and Tricia and Heather and the little one yet to be born. Surely he and the love of his life would watch their daughters blossom and grow. Then, one day, he’d set his brow and stare down his nose—teasing, taunting—at the young men who came to call. Then, as Hugh MacKenzie had done, Eric would walk each one down an aisle toward a man who would adore her as he adored their mother.
Surely.
And then he and Flossie would grow old together. They’d gather the grandchildren and unfathomable joy would fill their home. They’d grow old together, sitting in front porch rockers—perhaps in Carcant with Jenny and Charles—and watch the sheep graze along the hillsides of Scotland.
Their parting only a few days earlier had not been their last time together.
Surely not.
* * *
ERIC HAD SOBERLY RETURNED to his work, never imagining how quickly it would evaporate before him. The hospital in Siaochang closed for good, which forced the missionaries to make yet another move.
Nurse Annie, who had long observed the handwriting on the wall, initially went to work at MacKenzie Hospital alongside Dr. Geoff Milledge. In time, however, she angled for a nursing reassignment to the Peking Union Memorial Hospital, most notably to enable her to care for a sick friend who lived in the city. Her persistent politicking paid off. After showing up at the Japanese district office in Tientsin every day for a week, she wore the commander down. He gave her his official approval, provided she never came back. Annie assured him she would not and went on her way. She figured the longer she was in a position of value, the safer she could be while still accomplishing her work.
During the summer months, Eric ventured to Pei Tai Ho as he had done for many years, but he found it nearly devoid of the vacationers who had once enjoyed it. These were lonelier days than he had known before, especially with his girls so far away. Japan’s presence in China had changed so much—in both large and small ways. Even the senior MacKenzies, who might have provided Eric some comfort, were no longer in China. Instead, they enjoyed a furlough in Canada, sharing a home with Eric’s wife and daughters.
As seemed to have been true for so much of his life, Eric was alone.
On the first day of September 1941, Eric returned to Tientsin. He moved in with A. P. Cullen, who had also sent his family to safer grounds and who had a flat in the French concession. The two men thought it quite something that at one time A. P. had been Eric’s teacher, then his missionary colleague, and now also his roommate. Above all, they were brothers in the Lord. And they were friends.
Each afternoon they enjoyed long walks together—a time when they could discuss the world’s situation at large and, more intimately, how it affected them personally. Eric also continued to ponder a book on discipleship he hoped to write—one that would one day serve Chinese pastors.
Together the two men celebrated life’s accomplishments—the birthdays of family members separated from them—with a cup of tea at the Cosy Club or an economical meal out at the Europa Café. And, with each passing day, Cullen noticed that the joy of the Lord never left Eric’s face.
That exuberance was most noticeable in mid-September when Eric received a cable from Canada telling him that Nancy Maureen Liddell had entered the world.
He quickly sent a cable back to Canada: “Wonderful news!”[75]
Eric remained busy by continuing in the work God had called him to. He bicycled around and preached, led Bible studies, and encouraged those he met along the way. But he could not help but notice that opportunities and freedoms lessened and stalled. He kept at it as best he could, eventually noting that—for the first time in perhaps his whole life—he had more time on his hands than he knew what to do with.
Weeks grew into months as communication slowed to a snail’s pace. Because of the increasingly unpredictable and intermittent postal service, news from “home” became feast or famine. At times, those in China felt relieved to get a single letter. At other times, they were astonished to receive over thirty letters in a single day.
Eric’s hunger for contact with loved ones living on the other side of the world grew.
Years later, A. P. Cullen noted that the one area of Eric’s life that fascinated him most was the rate at which Eric’s spiritual life developed, most especially in the face of war. This was fascinating to him, but not confusing. While no one could quite understand how Eric had been able to accomplish his feats in sports, Cullen knew exactly the formula for his spiritual medals. Years after Eric
’s death, Cullen noted,
[Eric] had as a foundation the inestimable advantage of truly Christian inheritance and truly Christian parents, and he would be the first to acknowledge how much he owed to them. On this foundation, from the time he began to think for himself, he steadily and painstakingly built up that Christian character for which we honor him today.
Very early in his life he began to reveal that strength of determination and firmness of purpose which was such a marked feature of his character. . . . Since he came to China in 1925, I have been watching his progress. At first, while he was adjusting himself to his new work, there appeared to be nothing remarkable in that progress, but as the years have rolled by, the momentum has steadily increased; indeed, the growth of his spiritual life affords a remarkable parallel to his methods of running a race, for one of the astonishing things in his victories on the track, as we have already heard, was that he was always a bit slow in getting off the mark, mainly, I am convinced, because his fine conscience would never allow him to “beat the gun.”[76]
Cullen went on to describe Eric’s “conscientious thoroughness, attention to accuracy and detail,” which, he said, showed up in all of Eric’s work. Eric gave the greatest care and attention to everything he put his hands to. “Given these two qualities—an unflinching purpose and a finely sensitive conscience—add to them an ideal of a life completely dedicated to the service of God and men—and you have the secret of Eric Liddell’s career.”[77]
Whether Cullen realized it or not, in a few sentences he gave the world a glimpse into Eric Liddell’s greatness. A. P. Cullen—teacher, friend, co-missionary—answered the “why” for anyone who might wonder that generations come and go and people still say, “Eric Liddell’s life fascinates me.”
But Cullen was also quick to share that Eric was not superhuman:
Let no one think that he did not have his temptations, just as we have, temptations to indolence, slackness, compromise, and what not. But he won his way through, by persistent study, regular times of devotion, constant meditation, insistent prayer, getting up early in the morning and spending one hour—two hours—in a concentrated search for God’s will as revealed in the teaching of Jesus and the Bible generally.[78]
During the time he lived with Cullen, Eric worked on the devotional book he’d had in mind by poring over the writings he had come to treasure, the ones that drew his heart and spirit closer to the heart and Spirit of God. The one-on-one ministerial interaction he experienced as he pedaled from village to village continued to inspire him as he inspired others, but he could not stop thinking about and hoping for a discipleship program that would continue after he left one village and cycled into the next.
Something effective he could leave behind.
While Eric and Cullen continued with the good work in China, Hugh MacKenzie made a declaration in Canada. With a fervent belief that his colleagues in China needed him more than ever, Hugh informed his wife and other family members that he wanted to return to his work in the Far East. Based on all he knew, Tientsin was in crisis. With his connections and ministry worth, he could better serve God and others there than at home. He packed his bags, including a recently taken photo of Florence and her three daughters—a gift from a loving wife to her heartsick husband.
Hugh kissed his family good-bye and made his way to San Francisco, where he planned to board a ship for China. But in the early morning hours of December 7, as fog along the dock wrapped around his body, a car struck him and rendered him unconscious.
After a quick trip to the hospital and being given the okay to leave shortly thereafter, Hugh once again attempted to reach the San Francisco docks. Again, he was stopped—this time by the news of a Japanese attack on the US naval base at Pearl Harbor in Hawaii.
The United States had officially entered the war, and Hugh MacKenzie returned to Canada, never to set foot in China again.
The news of the attack on Pearl Harbor reached Tientsin in the early-morning hours of December 8 (the attack had taken place while Eric and Cullen slept). Before most were awake, Japanese soldiers wrapped Tientsin in barbed wire and closed the gates between the British and French concessions. Chinese soldiers gave up and gave in.
Japan now had control over China.
Three days later, the students at TACC were sent home and the school was closed. The residence where Eric and Cullen lived was searched and a radio was confiscated.
Eric and Cullen were ordered to the Japanese military headquarters to register as British nationals. There they answered questions about themselves and reported all personal property and financial holdings. They were placed under house arrest.
The remainder of the month inched by with little news from the outside and no movement between the French and British concessions. Christmas was celebrated, but not in the same spirit as it had been before.
Never one to waste precious moments, Eric used this time to undertake the arduous task of writing the manuscript that had so often tickled his mind but had yet to make it to paper. He approached the process with his typical gusto. Ironically, while others may have bemoaned living in lockdown, house arrest became the perfect season in Eric’s life to accomplish his unfinished dream. An inordinate amount of time needed to be filled during the day, and it was nice to have Cullen—a fellow theologian—as a constant spiritual wall of wisdom to bounce his thoughts off. And Cullen continued to be inspired and awed by the man he’d watched grow from a young boy into a ministry colleague.
Eric eventually titled his work The Disciplines of the Christian Life, which contains a foundation of Eric’s Scottish Congregationalist–instilled principles as well as eclectic additions from the Oxford Group, other theological writings he studied, and experiences from his missionary work and ministry. Eric’s unique voice provides fresh insights on Christian doctrine.
Like a theologian taking a page from the Protestant reformers of centuries prior, Eric sat at his desk, Bible open, and wrestled with, sorted out, and defined Christian doctrine as he saw it. He read, reread, and edited through what he wanted to retain and what he might dismiss. In doing so, he meticulously sifted until what was left was sound biblical theology on subjects such as “The Life of Jesus,” “The Character of Jesus,” “The Holy Spirit,” “The Kingdom of God,” “God’s Moral Law,” and “The Life of Paul.” Within the pages of his book, Eric shared what he had come to realize about baptism, Communion, and what he titled “The Three Great Festivals of the Church—Christmas, Easter, Pentecost.”
As we know it today, Eric’s discipleship book contains much of the doctrine outlining his unique spiritual path, and it encourages those who read it in following that same path.
Eric’s Congregationalist upbringing had anchored him in a bold, resolute local autonomy and allowed him the freedom to adopt other strains of theological wisdom. His church in Scotland and those throughout Britain had done the same from their vantage points. In time, much of Scottish Congregationalist church doctrine would progress in a different direction from where Eric had set his course of faith to sail.
Eric had lived most of his adult life in China, away from Britain and Congregationalist leadership. Initially varying a degree or two theologically due to context, their bearings would ultimately drift further apart over time. It is not surprising that a missionary and sending church body, with the underlying open principles of the Scottish Congregationalist Church, would vary on understandings of faith, given their different locations, customs, and experiences. Eric’s mother ship of Scottish Congregationalism back home would, in time, take on waters of progressive thinking, which eventually submerged it in pluralistic Unitarianism. Eric’s religious compass landed him on a figurative island, theologically distinct and somewhat separated from his Congregationalist brethren back home.
Eric’s dogmatic writing has built a lighthouse for disciples who feel cast about or as if they are treading water in open seas of spiritual turbulence. Written during a time of political fear and a personal t
ime of separation from his most cherished loved ones, Eric’s manuscript spotlights grace and truth. In essence, he encourages readers to put on a life preserver of faith in Jesus Christ and outlines the routine and discipline of being fed by the Word of Christ to demonstrate grace in everyday living.
Years later, after the release of Eric’s book, D. P. Thomson described it, saying, “It includes, amongst other things, nearly 60 pages devoted to Bible readings, with comments for every day of the year. It is a work which involved immense labour and unremitting care, and it is the fruit of those long hours he spent in meditation and prayer.”[79]
Eric Liddell’s time of study and growth, which became The Disciplines of the Christian Life, was his last great gift to anyone who reads it. Although written from a tiny corner of the world—a mere dot on the map—its ripples spread far beyond what he could have ever imagined.
[75] Duncan Hamilton, For the Glory: Eric Liddell’s Journey from Olympic Champion to Modern Martyr (New York: Penguin, 2016), 241.
[76] D. P. Thomson, Scotland’s Greatest Athlete: The Eric Liddell Story (Barnoak, Crieff, Perthshire, Scotland: Research Unit, 1970), 176.
[77] Ibid., 176–77.
[78] Ibid., 177.
[79] Ibid., 178.
CHAPTER 21
DETAINMENT
Therefore, my dear brothers and sisters, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain.
1 Corinthians 15:58, NIV
January 1942
“The Japanese have ordered all British and American nationals living here in Tientsin to pack up their belongings.”
The Final Race Page 17
