Student and Champion Athlete

Eric Liddell was born in China in 1902 to Scottish missionary parents. He was educated at Eltham College in Kent, a college that had been, and in some measure continued to be, a “School for the sons of Missionaries.” He excelled in sports and studies at Eltham, especially in sprinting and rugby football, and he went to Edinburgh University in 1920 for a four-year course in pure science. He graduated in July 1924, just after the Olympic Games, held that year in Paris. By that time, he had become an international rugby player for Scotland and a track star. He pretty well swept all before him in the sprinting events in those years in Britain. Most famously of all, he won the Olympic 400-meter in record time at those Paris Games, now a century ago.

Paris 1924 and the Conscience of a Christian

In 1923 the Olympic games in Paris loomed. But for Eric Liddell, there was an issue. By the end of 1923, it was clear from his involvement in student evangelism that he was a conscientious Christian. From his earliest days, he had been taught to take the teaching of the Bible seriously, including respect of the Christian Sabbath or Lord’s Day. He believed in the sanctity of the Lord’s Day. He never trained or competed in sports on that day. It was a day apart to remember the Creator, who established it at creation (Gen. 2:1–2; Exod. 20:8–11), and to worship the Savior who rose from the dead the first day of the week (Luke 24:1–8). It was a day to be “in the Spirit” (Rev. 1:10).

When it came to the 1924 Paris Games, then, there was a clear issue for him. The schedule of events, known long beforehand (not merely right before the games, as depicted in the movie Chariots of Fire), made it clear that certain events in which Eric might have been expected to compete were scheduled for Sundays. He made it clear to the Great Britain selectors that he should not be considered for any such events. These events included the 100m, the 4x100m relay, and the 4x400m relay. His conscience, informed by Scriptures, meant that he would not be running in these events, though Britons had good hopes for medals in all three events, and, indeed, did win medals in these events. On the Sunday of the semi-finals and final of the 100m event, Eric preached in a service in the Scots Kirk in Paris.

How Eric Found His Best Event

This meant a switch for him from the short sprint to the 400m. He trained seriously for this event in the winter of 1923–24 and duly qualified in the Olympics both for the 200m, in which he was to win a bronze medal, and the 400m, in which he was largely untested.

Before the final, back at the British headquarters, a team masseur gave him a note. When Eric opened it at the stadium, he was greatly encouraged to read, “In the old book it says, ‘He that honours me, I will honour’ [1 Sam. 2:30]. Wishing you the best of success always.” Untested though Eric may have been, in the event he went off at full speed on the outside lane and established his clear superiority over the other finalists with a resounding victory. Fourteen years later, he was to recall of the 400m final that he was “running the first 200 metres as hard as I could and then, with God’s help, running the second 200 metres even harder!”

Student Evangelist and Missionary

During his student days Eric had become involved in student evangelism, and in this time he felt a call to return to China for missionary service with the London Missionary Society (with which his father, at that time, served in Tientsin [Tianjin]). He served first as an educational missionary in a Christian college in Tientsin, but he was ordained as a Congregational minister in 1932. In 1937 he switched to pastoral ministry in and around a mission station in Siaochang [Zaoqiang] where his brother Robert served as a medical missionary.

Family Man and the Influence of War

Meanwhile, in 1934, Eric had married Florence Mackenzie, daughter of a missionary family. From this happy union three girls were born, though Eric did not see the youngest. Because of the escalation of the war between the invading Japanese and the Chinese in 1940, Eric and Florence thought it best for the family to locate for safety to Canada, to which they traveled, leaving Eric behind. Eventually Eric with other “alien nationals” were sent to an internment camp in Weihsien [Weifang] in 1943. In a cramped and over-populated camp, life was hard, mitigated to a considerable extent by the presence of so many evangelical Christian missionaries.

The Eric Liddell story has been told in the many biographies written since his passing in February 1945, including the author’s own Running the Race: Eric Liddell, Olympic Champion and Missionary (Christian Focus Publications). The details of Eric’s sporting career makes for easy reading. The details of some of his missionary experiences, especially with the escalation of the Sino-Japanese conflict, can be heart-rending, but show the true character of the man. Here are two examples, which, no doubt, will cause some discomfort in our comfortable modern lives.

The Story of the Peony Rose

The first takes us to early 1938 shortly after he started his country ministry. Eric states:

“When journeying back from Tientsin to our Mission Station of Siao Chang, my colleagues and I heard of a wounded man, lying in a temple, 20 miles from our Mission Hospital. No carter would take the risk of taking wounded men, for fear of meeting the Japanese troops on the way. However, one Chinese carter said he would go, if I accompanied him. They have a wonderful confidence in us!!! It would be quite dangerous for him, but, I think, there was no danger as far as I was concerned.

On Saturday February 18th, the carter started on the journey and some hours later I cycled after him. By evening the carter reached Huo Chu, 18 miles from Siao Chang, where we have our Mission premises. I cycled on to Pei Lin Tyu, 3 miles further on, to see the Head man of the village and make arrangements for the wounded man ‘to be removed.’ He lay in the temple about 100 yards outside the village. The temple is a filthy place open to the wind and dust. No one ever comes along to clean it.

No home was open to the wounded man, for if the Japanese descended on them and found that a home had anything to do with the military it would be destroyed at once, and the lives of those in it would be in danger. For 5 days the man had lain in the temple. A friend came daily to the temple to feed the wounded man. He lay on a thin mattress on the ground. When we remember that the nights and days are cold and every night the temperature would be at freezing if not well below it, we marvel that he was still alive. The Japanese (a tank and 10 motor lorries) were at the next village a mile away. I told the wounded man we would be back early the next day and then I returned to Huo Chu. That night, as I lay down, wrapped in my old sheepskin coat; my thoughts turned to the next day. Suppose I met the Japanese, what would I say? I felt for my Chinese New Testament, a book I constantly carried about with me. It fell open at St Luke 16. I read until I came to verse 10 and this seemed to me to bring me my answer. ‘He that is faithful in that which is least is faithful also in much and he that is unjust in the least is unjust in much.’ It was as if God had said to me, ‘Be honest and straight’; I turned and went to sleep. We started early next morning. As we approached the first village, there was a man standing in the entrance to it, beckoning us in. We entered the village and as we passed through it the Japanese mechanized troops went round it. We fortunately missed each other.

Many of the roads had been dug up, and were like enlarged trenches, and in clambering out our cart overturned.

We reached Pei Lin Fyu early in the day and went to the temple. It was Chinese New Year’s Day. People were in the temple burning incense. They were even burning it at the side of the wounded man. I asked the people to come out. I gave them a talk on fresh air being of more value to sick or wounded, than air laden with incense smoke. Then I turned to those great words in Micah: “Wherewith shall I come before the Lord? Shall I come before Him with burnt offerings? — He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God?” Sir George Adam Smith in his classic on The Twelve Minor Prophets, when he comes to this passage writes it in large letters, then says, “This is the greatest saying in the Old Testament, and in the New there is only one greater: “Come unto ME, all ye that labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest.”’

We laid the man in the cart and left.

On reaching Huo Chu, we heard of another wounded man whom we could pick up by going out of our way a short distance. We decided to go and see. When we reached Pang Chuang we went to see the Headman. He and some others led us to one of the out houses. Several men went in first to warn the wounded man that a foreigner was coming in to see him but that he need not be afraid. On entering I could see, in the dim light, a man reclining on a bed; dirty rags were wrapped round his neck. He was one of six men who had been surrounded by the Japanese. They were told to kneel for execution. Five knelt but the 6th remained standing; when the officer came to him, he drew his sword and slashed at him making a gash from the back of his neck round to his mouth. He fell as dead. After the Japanese left the villagers came out and, finding him still alive, had taken him to this out house where he had lain for several days. I told him my cart was only a small one, made for carrying one person, but, that if he was willing to sit on the shafts for 18 miles (5 hours) I would take him to Siao Chang hospital. I could not guarantee his safety if we met the Japanese; he would have to take his chance. He took it. For the first few miles a Japanese aeroplane was circling round slightly south of us. It indicated that the Japanese troops were moving almost parallel to us a mile or two away.

At 4 p.m. we reached S. C. Hospital. Two days later the first man died, but the second man lived.

Treated first by Dr. Graham then by Dr. McAll, he soon recovered. His mind turned towards the Christian life and teaching and within a couple of months he made the first steps in Christian living.

In gratitude he painted a number of pictures for me. They show the painter and also the poet. One I had lithographed. The saying on it runs “She (the peony) is the most beautiful in the city (China); her modesty and manner come from God.”

The Day Shells Fell

Later the same year, Eric wrote a letter to his family back home, in which, once again, vivid descriptions are given of the sort of work he did at Siaochang and the dangers he faced:

“I am writing this after an eventful few days. Last Sunday we had planned to hold a big baptismal service for several nearby villages but, already the day before, we heard heavy gunfire in the distance and by breakfast time a scouting plane was circling overhead, so many from the outlying villages didn’t turn up, rightly fearing that an attack was about to start. As I addressed those receiving baptism two shells exploded outside with a terrific noise and there was silence for a moment before we were able to continue. I don’t think any who were baptized that day will easily forget what happened. No one left after the service was over, so we just continued with hymns and witness to keep up our spirits. As there were no opposition forces here, truckloads of Japanese soldiers soon hurtled through the village gates and they searched every building in the place. Though they came into the church they left without causing any real damage, but in the evening, when everyone had gone home and was too frightened to come to evening service, the church door opened and in came the man who used to be the local opium-addict, thanking and praising God. It seems that, having reached a living faith in Christ, he had then been arrested on a trumped-up charge but, unlike many others, he had been acquitted. Hurrying home he came to church straight away to give thanks for his deliverance, unaware of the terror we had all known earlier in the day. Feeling I had been given a congregation, I got on with the service!”

Eric was buried in the prison camp cemetery in Weihsien in Feb. 1945 and was greatly mourned, though the Christians knew that it was a case of “absent from the body, present with the Lord” (2 Cor. 5:8).

A Challenge

How does this challenge us today? Surely in nothing less than what Eric said in his own day: “It is not sufficient to admire Christ; it is not sufficient to love Him. ‘For me to live is Christ,’ cried the Apostle [‘and to die is gain’ (Phil. 1:21)]. That is the spirit in which work for God has to be done.”

As he put it in a book on discipleship he wrote toward the end of his life, “John the Baptist’s message was ‘Repent, for the kingdom of God is at hand’…It is by personal knowledge of Christ that we become citizens in this kingdom, and that privilege is open to all. The humblest and most obscure may have direct personal communion with Christ through the Holy Spirit. Indeed, every one of us must have such personal knowledge if we are to be citizens of the kingdom.”