Anthony Norris Groves

For Christmas I finally got my very own copy of the excellent biography of Anthony Norris Groves, called The Father of Faith Missions by Robert Bernard Dann.  You’ve probably never heard of Groves.  I hadn’t until I picked up his biography at random from a church library and began to read.  The book is well written and well researched.  I would normally find a 600 page book impossible to finish, but this was interesting from beginning to end, and I read it quite quickly.  Reading about Groves not only was interesting because of the very different age in which he lived, but it also moved me emotionally and challenged and encouraged me spiritually.

I appreciated especially that Groves was not the usual kind of spiritual giant about whom one reads in missionary biographies.  Groves was originally a dentist in England in the early 1800’s.  He was not a great public speaker.  He was not a great linguist.  He did not oversee any large, successful missionary endeavors.  He considered himself to be a miserable failure in his service to God.  He did not preach to the masses and see thousands saved; neither did he organize extensive networks of churches.

So what did he do?  Groves was a man who endeavored to read his Bible, interpret it faithfully, and do whatever it said.  Out of love for Christ and for the lost, after using up all his possessions for Christ, he and his family traveled to Baghdad in 1829 to be the first modern Western missionaries in the heart of the Muslim world.  Groves went without ordination, without a formal theological degree, without the support of any denomination, relying solely on the Lord and on his personal contacts in England.  After leaving Baghdad, he spent much of his life ministering in India.  Decades before anyone else, he argued against pressuring new converts to conform to a Western form of Christianity.  His study of the Bible led him to refuse ordination from the Anglican church or any denomination, to adopt believer’s baptism, to use all his possession for the work of Christ, and to espouse interdenominationalism.  All of this was extremely radical in Groves’ day.

What do I appreciate most about Groves?  1. His humility and love.  He was an unassuming, unpretentious man who cared more for others than himself.  His enemies could condemn his beliefs, but they always admitted that he personally was a humble, gentle, loving man.  2. The simplicity of his faith and practice.  He studied the Scriptures carefully and practiced what they said, even if it meant abandoning long cherished traditions or suffering the loss of material things.  3. His gracious and merciful heart.  Groves often sought out those who had been rejected by others and gave them another chance.  He never wrote anyone off.  4. The effect of his personal mentoring of other Christians.  This is where Groves excelled and had huge effects on Christian missions for over a century.  I noted earlier that he personally led no great movements, but the effect of his character, teaching, and testimony on other individuals led them to do the “great” things Groves never accomplished.  George Muller married Groves’ sister, and it was through Groves that Muller developed the faith and devotion for which he is famous.  Indian men who were mentored by Groves went on to establish large networks of completely indigenous churches that led thousands to Christ.  Everyone who had personal contact with Groves was challenged and stirred to greater devotion to Christ.  The ripple effects of his character are seen in the ministries of Hudson Taylor, Amy Carmichal, Watchman Nee, Jim Elliot and many others.  All of this not by starting a large movement, but by personal mentoring of individual Christians.

Coming from a separatistic, dispensational background, I found the contrast between John Nelson Darby and Norris Groves very interesting.  At one point in my life, I would have identified with Darby.  I now identify with Groves.  I could go on and on, but I’ll conclude promptly by saying that I really enjoyed Groves’ biography and highly recommend it.

When Humility Gets Hard

My previous post was about the need to keep moving toward people in relationships. Keep engaging. Keep an open heart, even when everything in you screams for self-protection. One quality that is essential if we are to keep moving toward those who have hurt us is humility.

It’s the most natural thing in the world to respond in self-righteousness when someone has wronged me. They done did me wrong, and they deserve to pay! It’s only right. It’s only just, and God is a God of justice, is he not? So of course he is on my side as I pursue the justice I deserve.

Except there’s that whole “turn the other cheek” thing. That “love your enemy” thing. There are horrible Bible verses like 1 Peter 2:21-23: “For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps. He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in his mouth. When he was reviled, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly.” Surely Peter didn’t really mean we should follow Christ’s example in this. Okay, maybe he did.

Grace is clearly needed here. Notice that it was Jesus’ confidence in the justness of his Father that enabled him to refrain from seeking justice for himself. In the same way, a response of humble love toward those who do us wrong will only be possible for us if we have faith in God as a just Judge and loving Father. When it comes to strained or broken relationships, I don’t have to seek personal justice for myself if I believe my God is sovereign, loving, and just. I am free to respond to harshness with gentleness and humility.

But here’s where humility becomes really hard. Maybe we manage to respond with patience and humility at first. I humbly move toward the person with whom I am in conflict, admitting my mistakes and sins and asking for their forgiveness. I lower myself before them . . . only to feel the sole of their shoe on the back of my head, smooshing my face into the dirt. Okay. I was humble. I did the right thing. I followed the example of Jesus. I was gentle and contrite. But ENOUGH IS ENOUGH! They belittled my humility. Now they’re gonna get it! I followed Jesus’ example of humility from his first coming, now I’m going to follow his example from his second coming, in flaming fire taking vengeance on my adversaries!

Here’s my point: It’s hard to continue being humble in the midst of relational conflict when the other person remains hard and doesn’t respond to your humility. Isn’t there a limit to how long we have to respond humbly and gently? A statute of limitations, a humility expiration date, or something? Nope.

Notice in the text above that Jesus, our example, “continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly.” Note the enduring nature of Jesus’ trust in his Father that led him to respond humbly to being wronged. Jesus didn’t stop on the road to Golgotha, stand up straight, throw down his cross in disgust, and say, “Alright! That’s enough! I put up with the lies and the illegal trial. I put up with the beating and the mocking and the spitting. But this! This is just too much! I tried the gentle approach, but nooo . . . you kept doing me wrong, you humiliated me by making me carry this cross, and if you think you can just nail me to it, you’ve got another thing coming!” ZAP! KAPOW!

How long did Jesus continue to entrust justice to his Father and respond to “relational conflict” (to put it mildly) with humilily? Until he died. So I am called to respond with humility my whole life long. There is no limitation on how long I must keep responding with humility and undeserved kindness. Or maybe I could put it this way: When Jesus stops being patient with me, I can stop being patient with others.

This doesn’t mean avoid difficult discussions or necessary confrontation. It doesn’t mean never speak truth that may be hard for someone else to hear. These are just self-protective mechanisms, not true humility. It does mean that any discussion in a situation of conflict should be carried out with an attitude of love and brokenness, for my part. I should have the perspective Jesus spoke of: my brother’s sin looks like a speck to me; my own sin looks like a log to me. It’s only as we continue entrusting our cause to our just Father that we will be able–by his grace–to keep being humble, even when the other party does not respond in like kind. With God’s help, we can be the Energizer Bunnies of humility: “He just keeps being humble, and humble, and humble . . . “

Keep Moving Toward Them

I was listening to biblical counselor Ed Welch at a seminar. I noticed he often used the phrase “you keep moving toward them” when he described personal ministry to suffering people. That phrase has stuck with me. It represents one of the biggest challenges in relationships.

Relationships are difficult and dangerous. The closer you get, the more dangerous they become. What I mean is, the closer you get, the greater the potential–perhaps certainty–of disappointment, misunderstanding, conflict, and pain. It’s to be expected that when you and another sinner full of idolatrous desires interact with each other, eventually you’ll start to step on each other’s idols, igniting a holy war fueled by “righteous” indignation. Maybe you’ll be wronged as an innocent party, or maybe you’ll do the wronging.

I have a strong temptation toward self-protection when it comes to the threat of emotional pain. The most natural thing in the world is to escape from such situations. Much easier to simply not have deep relationships than to risk the pain. And if the pain comes in a relationship, much easier to back off or run away.

To keep moving toward someone who has caused me pain, or who I have caused pain, is not natural and not safe. Yet this is exactly what God calls us to do: “But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. To one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from one who takes away your cloak do not withhold your tunic either. Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back. . . . But love your enemies, and do good, and lend, expecting nothing in return, and your reward will be great, and you will be sons of the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil. Be merciful, even as your Father is merciful” (Luke 6:27-30, 35-36).

If we are to love, do good to, bless, and pray for our enemies who hate, curse, and abuse us, then we should certainly treat anyone who is less than an enemy this way, also. Such as a spouse, or a family member, or a friend, or an acquantaince, or a fellow-believer. At no time do we have permission from our Master to treat others with anything less than undeserved kindness. The main point is that I am to treat those who do not deserve such treatment in this merciful and kind way, just as God has been merciful and kind to me and all other ungrateful and evil sinners. We are to move toward others, even when it is dangerous. Even when the threat is not just emotional pain, but physical persecution! If your enemy kills you, let him be certain he is killing someone who loves him.

Sometimes the pain of a broken relationship is excruciating. It gnaws at you constantly, making your life miserable. How in the world are we supposed to move toward someone who has caused such pain? We are not sufficient for such things, which is why we must beg God for the grace and the faith to live in this way.

There may be some point at which you have done all you can do, and it is the other person in the relationship who is running away so fast you can’t catch them, or erecting a wall so thick you can’t get through. That may happen, and the relationship may be irretrievable. But let there never be any bricks in that wall of your own making, and if you must be at arm’s length, let it never be your arm’s length. Let your constant desire be to keep moving toward others in relationships, to be merciful as your Father is merciful, and kind to the undeserving just as God has been kind to you.