Two Love Stories
I read the following at an arts event at my church focused on the topic of Love.
They met on a ferry returning to Toronto from Niagara. Jonathan had just been to a Bible conference at Niagara-on-the-Lake; Rosalind been on a picnic with friends. A mutual friend introduced them. Rosalind was initially unimpressed by Jonathan’s rather shabby appearance, but intrigued by his enthusiasm. He was a student at Knox College involved in ministries all over Toronto; she was a talented artist in the final year of an art program.
They met again at Toronto Mission Union, where Jonathan regularly preached, one evening when Rosalind agreed to serve as the accompanist for a service. Rosalind took this opportunity to check out Jonathan’s Bible, which he had left on a chair near her. Finding the book marked all the way through and worn nearly to shreds, she immediately decided that Jonathan was the man for her. Apparently Jonathan had similar feelings for Rosalind, since he asked her to marry him some months later. But there was a problem. Jonathan felt strongly that God had called him to China, but Rosalind had promised her late father, a famous artist, that no matter what, she would continue her artistic training in England. She decided marry Jonathan and go to China, but it meant family disapproval: her mother kicked her out of the house upon learning her plans.
And there would be other sacrifices. Shortly after their engagement Jonathan asked Rosalind if she would mind if he didn’t buy her an engagement ring—he had just bought a hundred more missionary booklets on the spiritual needs of China and he needed the money for postage to send them to churches all over Canada. Rosalind, whose family was quite well off, gulped, but agreed to forgo a ring.
They were married that fall and spent their first months together preparing to leave for China. On January 19, 1888, at Knox Presbyterian Church in Toronto, Jonathan and Rosalind Goforth dedicated their lives to God’s service in China. The huge church which could seat over one thousand (not this building, but the old Queen Street Knox building) couldn’t contain all the people who showed up for the service—Jonathan’s professors, fellow students, and the many poor people touched by his years of ministry in the East End Slums.
After a long train ride across Canada followed by a horribly rough voyage, the Goforths arrived in Shanghai, China. Rosalind, who was now pregnant, had brought several precious items with her: a self-portrait of her father and her mother’s china set, and set about making their small rented house comfortable. One night their dinner was interrupted by noise outside. Jonathan went to investigate and found that the roof of their house was on fire! After getting Rosalind to safety, Jonathan ran back into the house to see what he could save. He grabbed his study Bible, their money jar, her sewing machine and his language study notes. Rosalind’s paintings, china and their wedding gifts all burned.
This incident was echoed six years later, just before the Goforths were about to leave for home on their first furlough. A nearby river rose, covering the mission house with eight feet of water. The Goforths and their children could do nothing but wait on the roof. The only thing salvageable was their organ.
Perhaps it was just as well that they learned early to hold loosely to possessions, for one of Jonathan’s favorite evangelistic methods took a heavy toll on the family’s worldly goods. After several years of living in Chinese-style houses with dirt floors and smoky interiors, the Goforths decided to build a Western-style house. Taking advantage of the neighbors’ curiosity, the Goforths offered tours of their home, which were preceded by a sermon by Jonathan and a punctuated by a hymn played on the organ by Rosalind. As they escorted groups of 20 through the house, the tourists would inevitably take souvenirs of their visit: cutlery, pictures, combs, the children’s clothing, anything that wasn’t hidden away. For years Rosalind found herself unable to keep a pair of scissors in the house. For an extended period leading the tours took up their entire day. At the peak of this activity the Goforths counted and found that they had given tours to 1,800 men and 500 women in a single day! But it was worthwhile: their hospitality meant open doors in villages for miles around, and there were several new believers as a result of their work.
But there were more difficult things to cope with than lost scissors. Soon after their arrival in China, their first child, Gertrude, died of dysentery. She was less than a year old. Gertrude was not the only child they would bury in China. Their second born, Donald, died as the result of a fall. Florence, from meningitis, Grace from malaria and Constance from typhoid. In all, the Goforths lost five out of their eleven children in China.
And it was not only their children’s lives that were endangered by their service in China. In June of 1900, they received a letter from the American consul, telling them to flee for their lives—it was the Boxer Rebellion and Westerners all over the country were being killed. Unfortunately the letter had taken three weeks to arrive, and the escape route that the consul recommended was now cut off. The Goforths and the eight other local missionaries bid farewell to their tearful converts (who were themselves in danger of being killed), loaded their belongings into hired oxcarts, and set out west, praying that the route they had chosen was still open.
However, a week into their journey, at village where they stopped for the night an angry crowd surrounded the inn, pelting its gates with rocks. After waiting several hours for the mob to disperse, they had no choice by to move on, so, after a prayer, they loaded up the oxcarts and set out into the crowd. Rosalind held a pillow over six-month-old Wallace, attempting to protect him from the rocks showering down on them. When the crowd began to shoot the oxen, Jonathan jumped from the cart shouting “Take everything, but don’t kill!” In response he received a blow from a sword to his neck, which somehow did not decapitate him, followed by a deep cut to the back of the head that penetrated his skull. When Jonathan raised his arms to protect ward off the blows, the man with the sword stabbed him repeatedly in the forearm. Bleeding profusely, Jonathan lost consciousness.
When he regained consciousness, Jonathan saw that Rosalind and the children were still safe in the cart—the crowds had been momentarily distracted as they fought each other to loot the carts. In spite of the fact that Rosalind had lost track of three year old Ruth, at Jonathan’s insistence she quickly abandoned the cart and they fled towards a nearby village with their remaining children. Pursued by members of the mob who were still pelting them with stones, Rosalind shoved the baby into Jonathan’s arms and turned to face their attackers, saying “Kill me, but spare the children.” Taken aback by her grasp of Chinese, the men hesitated. Taking a look at Jonathan, who was covered in blood and barely able to stand, the leader of the group said “We’ve killed her husband, let her go” and they returned to robbing the carts. The Goforths were taken in by the nearby Muslim villagers, and able to recover enough to continue on their journey.
This is not nearly the end of the story of their escape from China. As they continued on they found Ruth, lost track of Paul, their 9 year old, for several days, found Paul and experienced God’s miraculous provision of a bottle of antiseptic, which was able to save Jonathan from gangrene. Several times they were stopped by angry mobs, but since all their possessions had already been stolen, they were allowed to go on their way. In one case, a group of bandits who had intended to rob them provided them with protection instead. Their story was not typical: the Boxer Rebellion killed more than 32,000 Chinese Christians and several hundred foreign missionaries, including many children.
Although the Goforths left for Canada with nothing but the clothes on their back, they returned to China as soon as the rebellion died down and continued work there for many years, converting many Chinese and sparking one of the biggest revivals in history. Finally, when Jonathan’s sight failed him and Rosalind’s ill health began to be too much for her, they returned to Canada, looking more or less as you see them here—radiant, white haired saints, glowing in the assurance of the good work well done and still burning with zeal for China. Jonathan spoke in churches around Canada, and Rosalind wrote his biography, chronicling their adventures, which is how we come to know so much about their story.
I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the Goforth’s love story, to be perfectly honest. The struggles of their life show up in their writings veiled by an enthusiastic pietism that saw life as a series of answered prayers and lessons from God. Yet I know from my grandparents’ experience on the mission field the drastic, destructive impact that these trials can have on a family, and on a couple. The Goforth’s cute, chick flick-worthy love story was interrupted by God’s calling. And yet he didn’t spare them danger or sorrow, seeming more than willing to destroy his servants in fulfilling his purpose. There is something very wrong about the death of their five children, and I don’t like the ways in which Jonathan prioritized ministry above Rosalind, even though I suppose she had fair warning, since before they married, he asked her to promise that she would always allow him to put God and his work first, even above her.
Yet there is also something very right about how Jonathan and Rosalind were caught up in a greater love story, and their small love story made more glorious as a result. The story of God’s desperate love for the nameless Chinese peasant with no chance of hearing the gospel is no less beautiful than the Goforth’s love for each other, even if it is harder for us to grasp. The lives of Jonathan and Rosalind Goforth, for whom this hall is named, offer us a glimpse of the strange and wonderful consequences of the collision of human and divine love.
----
Photos:
1) A typical ferry of the time.
2) Icon dedicated to the Chinese Christians killed in the Boxer rebellion.
3) The Goforths circa 1935. Courtesy Wheaton College.
Bibliographical Sources:
Benge, Janet & Geoff. (2001). Jonathan Goforth: An Open Door in China. Seattle: YWAM Publishing.
Worldwide Missions Missionary Biographies. Rosalind Goforth (taken from
http://www.wholesomewords.org/missions/biomrsgoforth.html
Goforth, Rosalind. (1921). How I know God Answers Prayer: The Personal Testimony of One Lifetime. http://www.whatsaiththescripture.com/Promises/I_Know_God_Answers.html
They met on a ferry returning to Toronto from Niagara. Jonathan had just been to a Bible conference at Niagara-on-the-Lake; Rosalind been on a picnic with friends. A mutual friend introduced them. Rosalind was initially unimpressed by Jonathan’s rather shabby appearance, but intrigued by his enthusiasm. He was a student at Knox College involved in ministries all over Toronto; she was a talented artist in the final year of an art program.
They met again at Toronto Mission Union, where Jonathan regularly preached, one evening when Rosalind agreed to serve as the accompanist for a service. Rosalind took this opportunity to check out Jonathan’s Bible, which he had left on a chair near her. Finding the book marked all the way through and worn nearly to shreds, she immediately decided that Jonathan was the man for her. Apparently Jonathan had similar feelings for Rosalind, since he asked her to marry him some months later. But there was a problem. Jonathan felt strongly that God had called him to China, but Rosalind had promised her late father, a famous artist, that no matter what, she would continue her artistic training in England. She decided marry Jonathan and go to China, but it meant family disapproval: her mother kicked her out of the house upon learning her plans.
And there would be other sacrifices. Shortly after their engagement Jonathan asked Rosalind if she would mind if he didn’t buy her an engagement ring—he had just bought a hundred more missionary booklets on the spiritual needs of China and he needed the money for postage to send them to churches all over Canada. Rosalind, whose family was quite well off, gulped, but agreed to forgo a ring.
They were married that fall and spent their first months together preparing to leave for China. On January 19, 1888, at Knox Presbyterian Church in Toronto, Jonathan and Rosalind Goforth dedicated their lives to God’s service in China. The huge church which could seat over one thousand (not this building, but the old Queen Street Knox building) couldn’t contain all the people who showed up for the service—Jonathan’s professors, fellow students, and the many poor people touched by his years of ministry in the East End Slums.
After a long train ride across Canada followed by a horribly rough voyage, the Goforths arrived in Shanghai, China. Rosalind, who was now pregnant, had brought several precious items with her: a self-portrait of her father and her mother’s china set, and set about making their small rented house comfortable. One night their dinner was interrupted by noise outside. Jonathan went to investigate and found that the roof of their house was on fire! After getting Rosalind to safety, Jonathan ran back into the house to see what he could save. He grabbed his study Bible, their money jar, her sewing machine and his language study notes. Rosalind’s paintings, china and their wedding gifts all burned.
This incident was echoed six years later, just before the Goforths were about to leave for home on their first furlough. A nearby river rose, covering the mission house with eight feet of water. The Goforths and their children could do nothing but wait on the roof. The only thing salvageable was their organ.
Perhaps it was just as well that they learned early to hold loosely to possessions, for one of Jonathan’s favorite evangelistic methods took a heavy toll on the family’s worldly goods. After several years of living in Chinese-style houses with dirt floors and smoky interiors, the Goforths decided to build a Western-style house. Taking advantage of the neighbors’ curiosity, the Goforths offered tours of their home, which were preceded by a sermon by Jonathan and a punctuated by a hymn played on the organ by Rosalind. As they escorted groups of 20 through the house, the tourists would inevitably take souvenirs of their visit: cutlery, pictures, combs, the children’s clothing, anything that wasn’t hidden away. For years Rosalind found herself unable to keep a pair of scissors in the house. For an extended period leading the tours took up their entire day. At the peak of this activity the Goforths counted and found that they had given tours to 1,800 men and 500 women in a single day! But it was worthwhile: their hospitality meant open doors in villages for miles around, and there were several new believers as a result of their work.
But there were more difficult things to cope with than lost scissors. Soon after their arrival in China, their first child, Gertrude, died of dysentery. She was less than a year old. Gertrude was not the only child they would bury in China. Their second born, Donald, died as the result of a fall. Florence, from meningitis, Grace from malaria and Constance from typhoid. In all, the Goforths lost five out of their eleven children in China.
And it was not only their children’s lives that were endangered by their service in China. In June of 1900, they received a letter from the American consul, telling them to flee for their lives—it was the Boxer Rebellion and Westerners all over the country were being killed. Unfortunately the letter had taken three weeks to arrive, and the escape route that the consul recommended was now cut off. The Goforths and the eight other local missionaries bid farewell to their tearful converts (who were themselves in danger of being killed), loaded their belongings into hired oxcarts, and set out west, praying that the route they had chosen was still open.
However, a week into their journey, at village where they stopped for the night an angry crowd surrounded the inn, pelting its gates with rocks. After waiting several hours for the mob to disperse, they had no choice by to move on, so, after a prayer, they loaded up the oxcarts and set out into the crowd. Rosalind held a pillow over six-month-old Wallace, attempting to protect him from the rocks showering down on them. When the crowd began to shoot the oxen, Jonathan jumped from the cart shouting “Take everything, but don’t kill!” In response he received a blow from a sword to his neck, which somehow did not decapitate him, followed by a deep cut to the back of the head that penetrated his skull. When Jonathan raised his arms to protect ward off the blows, the man with the sword stabbed him repeatedly in the forearm. Bleeding profusely, Jonathan lost consciousness.
When he regained consciousness, Jonathan saw that Rosalind and the children were still safe in the cart—the crowds had been momentarily distracted as they fought each other to loot the carts. In spite of the fact that Rosalind had lost track of three year old Ruth, at Jonathan’s insistence she quickly abandoned the cart and they fled towards a nearby village with their remaining children. Pursued by members of the mob who were still pelting them with stones, Rosalind shoved the baby into Jonathan’s arms and turned to face their attackers, saying “Kill me, but spare the children.” Taken aback by her grasp of Chinese, the men hesitated. Taking a look at Jonathan, who was covered in blood and barely able to stand, the leader of the group said “We’ve killed her husband, let her go” and they returned to robbing the carts. The Goforths were taken in by the nearby Muslim villagers, and able to recover enough to continue on their journey.
This is not nearly the end of the story of their escape from China. As they continued on they found Ruth, lost track of Paul, their 9 year old, for several days, found Paul and experienced God’s miraculous provision of a bottle of antiseptic, which was able to save Jonathan from gangrene. Several times they were stopped by angry mobs, but since all their possessions had already been stolen, they were allowed to go on their way. In one case, a group of bandits who had intended to rob them provided them with protection instead. Their story was not typical: the Boxer Rebellion killed more than 32,000 Chinese Christians and several hundred foreign missionaries, including many children.
Although the Goforths left for Canada with nothing but the clothes on their back, they returned to China as soon as the rebellion died down and continued work there for many years, converting many Chinese and sparking one of the biggest revivals in history. Finally, when Jonathan’s sight failed him and Rosalind’s ill health began to be too much for her, they returned to Canada, looking more or less as you see them here—radiant, white haired saints, glowing in the assurance of the good work well done and still burning with zeal for China. Jonathan spoke in churches around Canada, and Rosalind wrote his biography, chronicling their adventures, which is how we come to know so much about their story.
I’m not entirely sure how I feel about the Goforth’s love story, to be perfectly honest. The struggles of their life show up in their writings veiled by an enthusiastic pietism that saw life as a series of answered prayers and lessons from God. Yet I know from my grandparents’ experience on the mission field the drastic, destructive impact that these trials can have on a family, and on a couple. The Goforth’s cute, chick flick-worthy love story was interrupted by God’s calling. And yet he didn’t spare them danger or sorrow, seeming more than willing to destroy his servants in fulfilling his purpose. There is something very wrong about the death of their five children, and I don’t like the ways in which Jonathan prioritized ministry above Rosalind, even though I suppose she had fair warning, since before they married, he asked her to promise that she would always allow him to put God and his work first, even above her.
Yet there is also something very right about how Jonathan and Rosalind were caught up in a greater love story, and their small love story made more glorious as a result. The story of God’s desperate love for the nameless Chinese peasant with no chance of hearing the gospel is no less beautiful than the Goforth’s love for each other, even if it is harder for us to grasp. The lives of Jonathan and Rosalind Goforth, for whom this hall is named, offer us a glimpse of the strange and wonderful consequences of the collision of human and divine love.
----
Photos:
1) A typical ferry of the time.
2) Icon dedicated to the Chinese Christians killed in the Boxer rebellion.
3) The Goforths circa 1935. Courtesy Wheaton College.
Bibliographical Sources:
Benge, Janet & Geoff. (2001). Jonathan Goforth: An Open Door in China. Seattle: YWAM Publishing.
Worldwide Missions Missionary Biographies. Rosalind Goforth (taken from
http://www.wholesomewords.org/missions/biomrsgoforth.html
Goforth, Rosalind. (1921). How I know God Answers Prayer: The Personal Testimony of One Lifetime. http://www.whatsaiththescripture.com/Promises/I_Know_God_Answers.html
1 Comments:
Thank you Miss Elissa, it's good writing and I appreciate your last two paragraphs of personal interaction with the story. Yes, there is something very wrong about death, period. Their story is full of pain, as is Jesus' by the way, and yet full of choices well made. 11 children? Oh my goodness what a womb! I love the picture of the happy saints and I bet one doesn't end there without walking through the valleys leaning hard on God. Gulp.
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