Day 27: When Your Sociology Matches Your Theology

“Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? When did we see you a stranger and take you in, or without clothes and clothe you? When did we see you sick, or in prison, and visit you?’ “And the King will answer them, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’” Matthew 25:37–40

One of my favorite unsung heroes of the faith is Dr. Thomas Chalmers. He was born in 1780 in Scotland, in a small fishing community. He grew up in a pretty poor family, but one in which academics were highly valued. And before most children have mastered potty training, wee Master Chalmers’ brilliance had bobbed to the surface. By the age of three he could read in English, Greek, and Hebrew. By the age of ten, he’d read every single book in the village where he lived with his mom, dad, and thirteen brothers and sisters! (Mrs. Chalmers, you’re a saint.)

Long before he started shaving, young Tom was packed off to St. Andrews University. He finished his studies—getting advanced degrees in mathematics and theology—by the time he was nineteen. And by the time he was twenty, he was hired to be both a math professor at St. Andrews and the pastor of a small parish.

Of course, Chalmers’ mental aptitude earned him the title of true genius. But the enormity of his cognitive IQ stood in stark contrast to his under-developed heart. Despite his intellect, he didn’t “get” grace. He acted more like a jerk than like Jesus. He came across as arrogant and condescending and much more interested in ideas than individuals. Dr. George Grant, a pastor in Nashville and an expert on Chalmers, says during this stage of his life, “Chalmers was widely admired, but universally disliked!”

So, God gave Tom a providential time-out. After witnessing the premature deaths of two of his siblings from tuberculosis, he came down with the disease, too. He was bedridden for months and came very close to death. But it was in his weakened physical condition that he finally fell in love with His Savior. He realized in his obsessive quest for knowledge about God, he’d forfeited an intimate relationship with God.

When he recovered his physical health, Chalmers resigned from his distinguished university position in order to pour himself into his rural community. He spent three days every week walking the countryside to visit people—whether they attended his church or not! His life became riddled with the language of love. By the time of his death in 1847, Thomas Chalmers had pioneered a vast and effective outreach to the poor and underprivileged; he helped build and pay for at least 500 new churches; initiated the construction and funding of more than 400 new schools; and had trained and deployed over 800 missionaries to foreign lands. Plus, he’s one of the originators of the “soup kitchen” ministry method we still practice today, where the goal is to establish an urban center to feed and minister to the poor and homeless. Call it mercy ministry or social justice or compassionate activism or just plain old “living like Jesus”—what’s clear is this: Dr. Chalmers was actually doing it long before it became a hashtag.

His compassionate sociology reflected his Christ-centered theology. He proved that if you really get God’s grace for you, you’ll slosh some measure of that same grace on the world around you. Which is sort of the whole point, isn’t it?

• In your experience, what ways have you been the beneficiary of someone else’s ministry?
• How does this experience teach and encourage you about the value of your own ministry?
• What/where/who are some of the dry places in your little corner of the world God has been prompting you to slosh grace on?