The Final Race

by Eric T. Eichinger

  Eric sat stunned by the loss but comforted in the remembrance of all the love his father had bestowed on those he encountered in his too-short years.

  [53] Russell W. Ramsey, God’s Joyful Runner (South Plainfield, NJ: Bridge, 1987), 180.

  [54] David McCasland, Eric Liddell: Pure Gold: A New Biography of the Olympic Champion Who Inspired Chariots of Fire (Grand Rapids, MI: Discovery House, 2001), 174.

  [55] Ibid.

  [56] Ibid., 176.

  CHAPTER 15

  STEADFAST WEDLOCK

  Therefore a man shall leave his father and his mother and hold fast to his wife, and they shall become one flesh.

  Genesis 2:24

  March 27, 1934

  Nearly a decade had passed since Eric sprinted across the finish line in Paris, a leap that catapulted him to greater fame than he had known previously. Scotland’s greatest athlete became an Olympic gold medalist.

  Now, as he waited at the altar of Union Church in Tientsin beside his friend George Dorling, he stood ready to cross another line (single to married) and to add another title (husband).

  Eric crossed his hands and held them low and in front. He breathed in the scent of the altar flowers. Then, as the church pianist played the final stanza of a song carefully chosen by Florence, he looked at George and smiled so broadly his cheeks hurt.

  “Easy, boy,” George teased in a whisper.

  Eric allowed the smile to falter, but only a little. “Thank you, George,” he said.

  “Whatever for?”

  “For being here.”

  The music changed, and the bridal march began. All eyes turned to the back of the church as Flo’s sister, Agnes Louise, and George’s fiancée, Gwyneth Rees, began their slow stride down the aisle. Eric glanced at George, saw the smile break across his face, and then spoke from the corner of his mouth. “Easy, boy.”

  George chuckled, and when the pastor behind them discreetly cleared his throat, Eric turned his attention to the young ladies coming down the aisle. He glanced at his top hat resting on the front pew and wondered if he made as dapper a picture as he hoped in the dark morning suit he wore. He knew without doubt that his bride would be beautiful and wanted only that she be pleased as well.

  The music changed again, and the congregation—made up of Flo’s family and their friends—stood. Eric’s hands flexed as he saw her, her arm linked with her father’s, her hair caught up beneath his sister’s lace veil, her mother’s wedding gown flowing about her. She carried a bouquet of pink carnations that trailed from her waist to nearly the hem of the dress.

  And she beamed, her expression full of love—love for him. For him alone.

  Oh, how he wished his parents could see her. Or even one of his siblings.

  But as it had been so often in his life, even with dozens around him, Eric stood alone. Though after today, he mused, he would never be alone again.

  * * *

  AFTER A TEN-DAY HONEYMOON IN the Western Hills outside Peking, Rev. and Mrs. Eric Liddell returned to Tientsin. Toward the end of their trip, Eric noticed a pesky sensation in the back of his throat, and Florence confirmed it to be tonsillitis. Florence tended to Eric for two weeks after they arrived home in Tientsin. Eric did not mind in the least, but it was the first time in his decade of service to the college that he missed work.

  The two young marrieds enjoyed their time together through the next year. The wait was well worth it by all estimations. There was relative peace in China—at least for the short time being—though the Chinese government had recently ordered one of the TACC classes to take military drills, and another class was required to attend two weeks of military camp.

  Eric wrote to his old friend D. P. Thomson, saying that although he hated war and felt the attitude of Christian people to it would be one of the future’s greatest challenges, he couldn’t help but notice that the drills had smartened up some of his students.

  Eric eased back into his teaching life as the couple joyfully discovered the roles of husband and wife. They hosted many people in their home for game nights, Bible studies, and meals. Hospitality became a new art form in the Liddell home, and most everyone coveted an opportunity to spend an afternoon or evening with the Liddells.

  Florence’s mother also enjoyed popping in for weekly visits, which evolved into semiweekly visits over meals, and then into daily tea. Eric certainly loved time with guests, and especially family, but he valued time with his new bride more. He wisecracked to a friend that his preferred hymn of choice might soon be “Peace, Perfect Peace, with Loved Ones Far Away.”

  Peace came in its own time. Before long, Florence shared with Eric the joyous news that, come the summer of 1935, he would be a father.

  In the spring of 1935, the political climate brought changes to the world as well as to Tientsin Anglo-Chinese College. As Eric and Florence awaited the birth of their first child, the Japanese penetrated the Great Wall of China near Peking. In Germany, Hitler made plans to use the 1936 Olympics as a host to his Nazi propaganda, and the Chinese Communist Party continued to strengthen its army.

  Closer to home, a new order came demanding that one of the TACC classes suspend their studies for three months of intense training at a military camp. Even though Eric was upset that their time away from the classroom represented a half year’s work, he also saw these changes in the tide as an opportunity to hunker down spiritually. He organized a prayer breakfast for the staff of TACC and joyfully observed the changes brought by such time spent with God.

  That year, a total of eleven students were baptized during the college’s annual baptism service.

  But an unintended headache arrived during this tender time in the form of a request. The LMS District Council, in the interest of finances, looked for ways to alleviate some of the burden on the college. The sentiment that too many missionaries were assigned to the college had been growing. Eric, being uniquely qualified as a pastor, received a request asking that he and Florence leave Tientsin and venture to Siaochang to serve the rural countryside mission in that capacity.

  It was a rare occurrence and an unusual sensation for Eric to have to consider choosing between two callings. He had always tended to be a focused, linear, black-and-white thinker, but here there seemed to be no right answer. He recognized great need in both ministry contexts, and he did not dismiss the new opportunity lightly. He traveled to Pei Tai Ho where Florence had gone for the summer. There, Eric talked with Florence about the choice that lay ahead for him, revealing that many of the missionaries had strong opinions of not wanting to see Eric leave the college.

  Eric wrote D. P. Thomson about having wrestled and sorted through his thoughts:

  I was a tutor of the graduating class of 1935. I never seemed to get a real grip of the class. In teaching, one of the difficulties was the large difference in standard between those at the top of the class and those at the bottom, but over and above this I never felt that I gained their loyalty or obtained any deep friendship. I know there is always the influence of which we are unconscious, and the way in which it molds the characters of the students, but I do feel that I should be able to see more direct results from my work.[57]

  But even though Eric had doubts about his influence, he had been no slouch. In the years from 1922 through 1935, nearly 160 boys had come to profess faith in Christ. He could not help but be aware that he’d often had an indirect—but more often than not, a direct—hand in their confessions of faith. Despite the challenges of 1935, he could not argue with his overall impact. He continued his reasoning to Thomson:

  I have discussed the possibility of my going to the country field for a year and a half to help, but we have come to the unanimous opinion that it would be a big waste to do such a thing. My Chinese does not put me in a position to start straight in at all well, and although I see the big personal advantage of doing so, in that it would give me the best grip of the language that I could ever get, I think it is really a waste. The choice would really have to be—give up
educational work altogether now, and I don’t feel a definite enough call to do that.[58]

  Eric and Florence contemplated the move to Siaochang deeply but ultimately decided to decline the opportunity. The timing simply wasn’t right, and, as Eric would later explain to the LMS officials, he would go if he felt the calling, but he believed his work at the college was of better service. Even still, their final decision left Eric feeling out of sorts. He had always struggled with saying no when requests came to him. He had also been accustomed to much more free time as a single man. A married man’s life is different, he reasoned, as well as that of a family man. On top of everything else, their family would soon expand to three, and both he and Florence anticipated needing the precious time together.

  Patricia Margaret Liddell came into the world in July 1935. The blonde, curly-haired child became a joy to everyone around her and gave a sense of life carrying on, even in troubling times. Eric proudly delighted in the added role of fatherhood and welcomed the few headaches from late-night cries and lost sleep.

  The following year, a much-loved Patricia toddled at the beaches of Pei Tai Ho, playing on the very shoreline where her father had proposed to her mother. The Liddells were blissfully happy—they’d settled in well as young marrieds, their daughter was nothing short of a treasure, and to add to their joy, another baby was on the way, due in January of the following year.

  But the world did not seem to share their bliss. Minor eruptions led by cultural upstart Mao Zedong continued. His communist revolution had gained a large following in opposition to the Chinese national government. Leaders ruled the main streets and capitals of China, but tension and uncertainty commandeered the side streets and alleyways. By late summer, the head of the Nationalist government Chiang Kai-shek was nearly overthrown by a group within his own government who urged him to unite the Chinese forces to evict the Japanese.

  Talk of the inevitability of declared war increased over dinnertime’s rice bowls and mah-jongg tables.

  Tientsin’s people grew worried. Stress mounted. Eric ministered and preached accordingly to his community. Not only did he have his own children to raise, but he also had his spiritual children in the faith to teach. He passionately continued to share Christ, develop relationships, and serve as a peacemaker, helping to settle disputes.

  Eric continued emphasizing and reemphasizing freedom in the gospel that was disguised in the joy of adhering to God’s Word. His was a voice of soothing comfort as the community braced for an uncertain future. But no pastor escapes the ministry without having to pivot on a few ideas. Eric’s homiletic approach at this period in China contained more of a gospel-oriented delivery, which veered from the earlier law-oriented decision points he shared in D. P. Thomson’s meetings. In one surviving sermon outline, Eric describes focusing on one’s own work as irritating; however, when the eyes are placed on the work of God, the face is lit up. Eric’s sermon text, Romans 10:17, answers the great question, “Where does faith come from?” It is not manufactured in an individual’s heart by a decision, but “faith comes from hearing, and hearing through the word of Christ.”

  On one level, Eric preached this basic message to all hearers: that there is an emptiness in trusting in one’s own works of righteousness but a relieving richness in recognition of God’s righteousness working in and through humanity. A deeper consideration of Eric’s sermon may reveal that Eric had been alluding to his own experience, as any good preacher tends to do.

  The rippling effect of the Oxford Group continued to turn heads and raise eyebrows in China. Will and Margaret Rowlands, LMS missionaries stationed in Siaochang with Rob, hosted a weeklong fall spiritual retreat there with a number of the London Missionary Society workers and Chinese pastors. Gardner Tewkesbury, a China-born missionary like Eric, led the retreat. The teaching points of the Oxford Group were implemented throughout the week, and the retreat was a powerful spiritual awakening for all in attendance.

  Missionary men and women, foreigners, and Chinese pastors united under the Scriptures. Through quiet devotion times and Bible study, penetrating questions, soul-searching confessions, forgiveness, resolution of differences, and letting go of grudges revealed themselves at every turn. Many of the reports from the missionaries afterward alluded to the transformative effect the week had on them.

  One missionary, Edith Owers, who had struggled with sharing space with other women in the group, said, “All this time, I had the privilege of living with the Bible-women in their new quarters, and none of us will ever forget that week. Life and work ever since has been on an entirely different footing.”[59]

  Alec Baxter, a short-term missionary, had mental reservations and personal dislikes but expressed, “I can never be sufficiently thankful for the steps which led to a complete resurrendering of my life to God, and for the new life and vitality engendered by this in my own spiritual progress.”[60]

  Will Rowlands summarized the experience in a report, saying, “There are many in Siaochang today who owe their release from besetting sin and new power in service to these heart-searching talks.”[61]

  The success of the retreat pleased Eric greatly. Feedback from Oxford Group sessions typically produced similar reactions to his knowledge. Walking as a Christian, especially in the face of adversity, had always been difficult. And the chatter of looming war made living the faith even more challenging. Any theological perspective that could help was a benefit, and the Oxford Group’s perspective did help, even though some considered it politically and theologically controversial. The Oxford Group was unconventional in the way its meetings were organized—without singing, praying, or a fixed order of service, they didn’t resemble church services of the time—and its members were far from united in their political opinions, which made some people suspicious of their teachings.

  Eric’s favorite mantra had become living a “God-controlled life,” a life that adhered to the Oxford Group’s principles. This way of thinking and living had spread through Eric’s circles of influence. The ensuing peace that came with living this way contained a hidden reward. The controversy directed toward the Oxford Group’s teachings was out of fear that one might be weighed down by submitting to the perceived oppressive will of God. Challengers of the Oxford Group’s practices thought they might find more freedom adhering to their own will in addition to God’s. Yet, ironically, it is only by being completely at peace with God’s will—in his control—that freedom in God’s grace is ultimately found. Great joy is found in the ability to live under discipline without the burdensome thought of discipline.

  This distinct understanding and belief was vital to Eric and influenced how he grappled with his next big life decision—helping the rural Chinese discover faith in Jesus Christ. Eric could only chuckle during his quiet times with the Lord, wondering what possible way God would shake up his life with such a different call than he had previously imagined.

  Humor had always been Eric’s lubricant for life. He kept his sense of wit churning through the tense times as well as the times of ease.

  A classic example of Eric’s amusement happened shortly before Florence gave birth to their second child. Florence and Eric had debated the name of the new child. Florence had been vying for Heather, while Eric had been holding out for Carol, as the birth would be quite near to Christmas. One evening Eric told Florence he had written down the names on two individual slips of paper, then placed them in a hat. “I’ll be fair and allow you to be the one to draw the name out of the hat,” he told her.

  Florence carefully considered the proposition as an air of seriousness took over her. This method seemed fair enough. She slowly reached a hand in, drew a slip, and unfolded it.

  “Carol,” she read as her balloon of hope burst.

  But what Eric had not revealed to Florence was that he had written “Carol” on both slips of paper in the hat. His straight face did not last long. Florence sleuthed the truth out between Eric’s giggles and smirks. After he gave his confession, she threw
a cushion at him. Their laughter resounded through the new year.

  On January 6, 1937, a second daughter arrived. Eric and Florence named her Heather.

  A few weeks later, Rob and Ria rushed to Tientsin with their young son, seven-year-old James Ralph, who appeared quite ill. Doctors at MacKenzie Hospital confirmed their worst fears—James Ralph had tuberculosis of the spine and needed to return to Britain as soon as possible.

  Rob booked passage for his wife and son, now secured in a body cast. Between the time it took for young James Ralph to recover and the political climate in China, Rob knew that when he said good-bye to them, they would not see one another’s faces again until his next furlough, scheduled for two years out.

  Eric took pride in his flourishing family, and he pedaled Patricia around Tientsin on the front of his bicycle. But his mind wasn’t completely free for work and fun. He had been mulling over a now-familiar request—Siaochang.

  In the summer of 1937, the LMS’s district council decided to transfer Eric to Siaochang, where he would serve God for four months in a rural community, with an eye on a more long-term transfer.

  The district council of the London Missionary Society had their hopes set high to ease the volatile situation TACC faced. The college needed to reduce funding by one staff member. Eric had always been the logical choice. Cullen had been ordained as well but was in nowhere near the physical shape of Eric. Transitioning from Tientsin to Siaochang would be demanding, requiring a robust constitution. Sending Eric and his family to Siaochang would alleviate the financial predicament at the college.

  Eric could not argue that the plan had merit and seemed to provide a workable solution . . . if he was willing to move his young family. The conveniences and amenities that Florence and Eric enjoyed in the large and prestigious port city of Tientsin would not at all be found in Siaochang. Rearing children would be significantly more difficult in such a rural setting and with a smaller social network.