For the Glory (Review)
A dear friend bought me this book when I was struggling with work and direction. I often gravitate toward general history and biographies of political leaders, so this was a different read from my normal selection. Yet I cannot stress enough how encouraging this book is and how well it reminded me that daily service—even the normal in-and-out routine—is of rich value when it is performed with an eye on the greater good. For the Glory by Duncan Hamilton tells the story of Eric Liddell, who won Olympic gold in 1924's 400-meter sprint despite the 100 meters being his race. As incredible as his first act was, the rest of Liddell's life was equally worth exploring as he lived as a missionary and a POW during WWII. I fully recommend For the Glory—a book that is both heartbreaking and inspiring from start to finish.
Here are some of the points and excerpts that stuck with me as I was reading about Eric Liddell’s life. The quotations are from Liddell unless otherwise stated.
Liddell had a persuasive humility to him. He knew of many whose personalities made others say, “if that is a typical example of a Christian, I am jolly glad I am not one.” He lived a life to counter those perceptions.
Eric Liddell explained the etymology of “sincere” during a sermon on sincerity. “Sincere” derives from two Latin words: sine ceres—without wax. Some sculptors in ancient Rome used wax to disguise a chip on a statue.” Imagine a craftsman attempting to hide a mistake after a slip of the chisel. “No one would see the flaw until the heat of the sun melted the wax or bad weather eroded it.” This is a deception, passing off an imperfect work as a perfect one. “In this way, he [the sculptor] wasn’t being truly sincere. If we allow cracks and blemishes to appear in our faith, and then ignore them or attempt to cover them up, we aren’t being truly sincere either. We must strive to make our faith the perfect work. We are then sincere to ourselves and sincere to God.”
Liddell’s primary objective was carrying out the Great Commission. But before he could proclaim Christ, he started with education; illiteracy was the first hurdle. “Until they were taught to read, the Bible was a closed book to them.” Even with high literacy rates in the United States, isn’t foundational education—conversance in the basics of religion and philosophy—a key hurdle in modern America? I wonder how much philosophical illiteracy factors into the inflammatory nature of many discussions on religion, even by those that claim a particular conviction. There cannot be meaningful conversation or a meeting of the minds if the minds don’t have the tools to understanding opposing ideologies.
The Sermon on the Mount was of central importance to Liddell. He considered it the touch point to Jesus and the guide for his personal philosophy. According to the author, Liddell “attempted to mirror it both in ‘character’ and ‘outlook.’ For Liddell, this meant never ‘willingly’ being rude or ‘irritated.’ This meant being ‘ready to go out [your] way to help’ and to ‘reduce people’s burdens.’”—strive to be perfect.
In 1944—toward the end of his life—Liddell began urging the internees to pray for the guards that beat and starved them: “I’ve begun to pray for the guards, and it’s changed my whole attitude toward them. When we hate them, we are self-centered.” Instead, he focused on Matthew 5: “Love your enemies. Bless them that curse you and persecute you.” Liddell noted that the disciples who asked Jesus how many times to forgive ended up missing the whole point of Christ’s message: “They could not forgive a person once. They must have the whole spirit of forgiveness.”
If Liddell’s story stopped where the cinematic story in Chariots of Fire concluded, it would still be a story to savor. But what Liddell accomplished after the cheering stopped is even more inspiring. Be sure to include For the Glory on your reading list, as it is worthwhile no matter your preferred genre of books.
