1944
HT: Christian History Institute
On this day, 21 July, 1944, Deitrich Bonhoeffer learned from a radio broadcast that a plot to kill Hitler had failed. Although he was already in prison, the Lutheran pastor knew he would be implicated because he had earlier worked with the plotters to bring about the assassination. In light of the fate that he knew loomed before him, he wrote a letter to his friend Eberhard Bethge, ruminating on his understanding of the Christian life.
“I remember a conversation that I had in America thirteen years ago with a young French pastor. We were asking ourselves quite simply what we wanted to do with our lives. He said he would like to become a saint (and I think it’s quite likely that he did become one). At the time I was very impressed, but I disagreed with him, and said, in effect, that I should like to learn to have faith….
“I discovered later, and I’m still discovering right up to this moment, that it is only by living completely in this world that one learns to have faith . . . . By this-worldliness I mean living unreservedly in life’s duties, problems, successes and failures, experiences and perplexities. In doing so we throw ourselves completely into the arms of God, taking seriously, not our own sufferings, but those of God in the world—watching with Christ in Gethsemane. That, I think, is faith; that is metanoia; and that is how one becomes a man and a Christian (cf. Jer 45!). How can success make us arrogant, or failure lead us astray, when we share in God’s sufferings through a life of this kind?
“…So I’m grateful for the past and present, and content with them…”
Metaxas, Eric. Bonhoeffer: Pastor, Martyr, Prophet, Spy. Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2010.
1964
During the 1960s, Zaire (formerly the Belgian Congo), was in turmoil. Just a few years before, Belgium had granted the nation its independence after years of corrupt colonial rule. The Belgians had not trained Africans to run the new country. Compounding the problems of running the large nation were age-old differences between rival African ethnic groups and the ambitions of European settlers in the Katanga province.
Then as now, the central government could not control the rebel groups who roamed the countryside. The Simba rebels committed numerous atrocities. Several Christian missionaries died or were brutalized during this violent period.
Bill McChesney was one of them. Bill was born on this day, July 21, 1936. Just five feet two inches tall, he was a wiry young man with a sunny heart. In fact, everyone who knew him called him “Smiling Bill,” and the one word which best described him was “exuberant.” He became a missionary with the Worldwide Evangelical Crusade.
Before he left as a missionary to the Republic of Congo (as Zaire was then named), he wrote a poem which he titled “My Choice.” His poem was not a masterpiece of English literature; great poets might sneer at it as doggerel; but it was the sublime submission of a Christ-centered soul. In it Bill described the comfort he would like to live in. Then he hung his head in shame, remembering all that Christ had done for him. He concluded by saying,
If He be God, and died for me, no sacrifice too great can be
For me, a mortal man, to make; I’ll do it all for Jesus’ sake.
Yes, I will tread the path He trod; no other way will please my God;
So, henceforth, this my choice shall be, my choice for all eternity.”
The Simba held a number of missionaries captive with Bill McChesney. Several times, they made terrifying visits in which they rehearsed killing Bill and the other missionaries. But each time, the rebels left them unharmed.
On November 24, 1964, the rebels took Bill McChesney to prison. His friend Jim Rodgers, a solemn British missionary, would not be parted from Bill and leaped into the truck with him. Bill was seriously ill with Malaria and needed someone to help him. Even so, the rebel soldiers beat him mercilessly the whole way. Jim had to carry him into the prison.
The next morning, when Bill acknowledged that he was American, a rebel colonel ordered him killed. Jim stood beside him. “If you must die, brother, I’ll die with you.” Attacking Bill mercilessly with clubs and fists, the rebel mob quickly killed him. He was just 28 years old. Jim laid his body gently to the floor. The rebels then knocked Jim down and trampled him to death.
Sometime before his death, Bill McChesney penned these words:
I want my breakfast served at “eight”, with ham and eggs upon the plate;
A well-broiled steak I’ll eat at “one”; and dine again when day is done.
I want an ultramodern home, and in each room a telephone;
Soft carpets, too, upon the floors, and pretty drapes to grace the doors.
A cosy place of lovely things, like easy chairs and innersprings,
And then I’ll get a small TV – of course, “I’m careful what I see.”
I want my wardrobe, too, to be of neatest, finest quality.
With latest style of suit and vest, why shouldn’t Christians have the best?
But then the Master I can hear, in no uncertain voice, so clear,
“I bid you come and follow Me, the lonely Man of Galilee.”
“Birds of the air have made their nest, and foxes in their holes find rest;
But I can offer you no bed; no place have I to lay My head.”
In shame I hung my head and cried. How could I spurn the Crucified?
Could I forget the way He went, the sleepless nights in prayer He spent?
For forty days without a bit, alone He fasted day and night;
Despised, rejected – on he went, and did not stop till veil He rent.
A man of sorrows and of grief, no earthly friend to bring relief –
“Smitten of God,” the prophet said – Mocked, beaten, bruised, His blood ran red.
If He be God and died for me, no sacrifice too great can be
For me, a mortal man, to make; I’ll do it all for Jesus’ sake.
Yes, I will tread the path He trod. No other way will please my God;
So, henceforth, this my choice shall be, my choice for all eternity.