There are some historical figures whose every sin seems to get overlooked and whose every virtue seems to get amplified. Conversely, there are other historical figures whose every virtue seems to get overlooked and whose every sin seems to get amplified. I would place the modern understanding of David Livingstone squarely in the latter category. Though he was most certainly a flawed individual, it seems that today he is known only for those flaws rather than for his many strengths. It’s for this reason that Vance Christie’s weighty new biography of Livingstone is so timely and so important.

David Livingstone was one of the towering figures of his age, and this despite living the great majority of his life far from the centers of power and despite never seeking nor even desiring the limelight. He dedicated most of his career to a particular form of mission work—the work of exploration. He did this not because of a sense of wanderlust or a desire to make a great name for himself, but out of a desire to bring an end to a terrible evil.
European powers had long been involved in the slave trade and had created outposts from one edge of the continent to the other. And while they were eager to receive slaves, they tended not to venture too far into the interior. By the middle decades of the nineteenth century, Europeans knew a great deal about coastal Africa, but little of what lay beyond. Livingstone was convinced that to end the slave trade, someone would need to explore—to chart navigable rivers, discover resources, and build an economy that would create wealth greater than the slave trade could provide. Thus his drive to explore was motivated by a love for people and a desire to quench slavery.
Christie’s biography, which weighs in at nearly 800 pages, tells his life in great detail, relying foremost on primary sources such as Livingstone’s journals and correspondence. It tells of his childhood in Scotland and his coming to faith in Jesus Christ. It tells of his conviction that the Lord had called him to missions and of his preparation by training to be a medical doctor. It tells of his early years as a missionary in what is now known as South Africa and of his marriage to Mary Moffat, the daughter of one of the area’s pioneering missionaries.
The majority of the book tells of Livingstone’s travels and expeditions. These often lasted for several years—years in which his location and even knowledge of whether he was dead or alive would be almost entirely unknown. It was in these years that he would be separated from his wife and children and often from any other Europeans. But then he would eventually emerge, return to Europe, and write a book about his travels. He would emerge to a level of acclaim that he did not seek, but chose to use to further his cause. And then he would do it all over again.
There is a good deal that we can justly critique about Livingstone. He could be harsh in his interactions with people, especially through the written word. He was more independent than he ought to have been—independent even of the local church for most of his life. And then he was so driven by his missionary calling that he effectively abandoned his family calling as a husband and a father; his children were as unknown to him as he was to them and his wife deeply grieved his long absences.
There are other critiques that are not entirely fair. Some of these are related to him being a man of his time and in these ways it may not be just to judge him as if he lived in the twenty-first century as we do. What matters more is how he acted compared to other people in his own time, and here he often proved himself much superior—“the Doctor was far ahead of his times in terms of the dignity, respect, worth, trust, and affection” he afforded to Africans. And then “he endured all variety of hardships and made deep sacrifices in devoting his entire career to seeking to advance their temporal and eternal welfare.” If only each of us was as devoted to the good of others as was Livingstone.
David Livingstone will probably always be a polarizing figure, but I’m thankful that Christie has provided this thorough new work that seeks to describe him not as we’ve imagined him or want him to be, but as he actually was. It describes him as neither a hero nor a villain, but as a man who was both sinful and sanctified, both tragically flawed and full-out committed to the highest of all causes. It’s a valuable contribution to understanding the man, his accomplishments, and the time in which he lived.
I think it’s fitting to give the final word to Conrad Mbewe, a son of one of the countries Livingstone explored and a son of the land in which he died and was (partially) buried. In his endorsement he writes, “I thank God for this fresh biography of David Livingstone, the pioneering missionary explorer of central Africa. He died in 1873 and his heart was buried in Zambia. On the centenary of his death, Zambians held commemorative events in several stadia in honour of this man. Also, the only town in Zambia that remains with a foreign name after its political independence from Great Britain is Livingstone. If you want to understand why a people who were once steeped in spiritual darkness should honour a Christian missionary in this way, read this definitive biography!”
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The grass at Glen Oaks Cemetery had already begun to fade from its bright summer green to its drab winter brown on the day we first visited. The November breeze blew cold upon us as we walked the rows of graves to choose the spot where we would bury our son. We eventually chose a plot near the end of a long row, beneath the shade of a young tree. A few days later we watched his coffin be lowered into the ground in that very spot. We heard the pastor, my dearest friend, say the dreaded words, “Dust to dust.” We stood together as a family, arms linked, tears flowing, hearts breaking.

And now we have come to the next November and I find myself standing in that very same spot reflecting on a year that has come and gone. I have heard some people refer to this as a “deathday,” a morbid parallel to “birthday.” I prefer to stick with the wordier and more formal “anniversary of his death.” And, indeed, today is the first anniversary of the day Nick went to heaven. A full year has passed since we received the news that he had collapsed, since we heard that he had been rushed to hospital, since the doctor called to say, “We did everything we could.” A full year has passed since Aileen and I looked each other in the eye and said, through sobs, “We can do this.” A full year has passed since a night so traumatic that most of it has disappeared from memory, or perhaps been buried in a place beyond remembering.
The last year has brought the deepest sorrows I’ve ever known. I have had to say farewell to my firstborn child, my only son, without having said a proper “goodbye.” I have witnessed the people I love most in all the world passing through their darkest valley. I have sat awake long into the night to soothe sorrows and dry tears. I have laid awake through the wee hours preaching truth to myself meant to counter waves of fear and anxiety. In the darkness of night I have awoken to the cries and sobs of hearts that have been so badly broken. I have learned to grieve, I have learned to weep, I have learned to lament.
But though the last year has been one of so many sorrows, it has also been one of so many blessings. As I look back on the most difficult of years, I also look back on the most blessed of years. As I ponder the year since my hardest day, I find my heart rising in praise to God. I find my eyes wet with tears, but my heart filled with gratitude.
I am grateful for the gift of a son. And though he was taken from me so soon, I wouldn’t trade those years for all the riches of all the worlds. Had I known I would have him for so short a time, I would still have considered it a blessing to know him, to love him, to raise him. I thank God for entrusting to me so fine a son, so godly a young man.
I am grateful for the gift of love. My family has been so well cared for this year—loved by family and friends, by neighbors and strangers, by those who know us best and those who barely know us at all. We have not for a moment been alone, not for a moment been deserted.
I am grateful for the gift of providence. God has often used “coincidences” to minister to us on our hardest days and in our most difficult moments. Chance encounters have proven to not be chance at all. God has sovereignly woven together a set of circumstances that have proven his love, his care, his presence.
I am grateful for the gift of heaven. Never has heaven been more real, more present, more precious, more close. This year has given me a whole new longing to be there—to be where Christ is, where Nick is—to be in that place where all fears are stilled, where all sorrows are soothed, where all tears are dried.
I am grateful for the gift of faith. God has given us faith to believe in his character and promises, to acknowledge his right to take as much as to give. Not one of us has turned on God. Not one of us has charged him with wrong. Not one of us has refused to bless his name. Our hearts have been shattered but, by his grace, our faith has held strong.
I am grateful for the gift of comfort. God has comforted us by his Spirit and his people, by word and by deed. Not once have we been without truths to rely on, gospel to cling to, shoulders to cry upon. God has made good on his every promise.
I am grateful for these gifts and so many others. I love God more than ever. He has proven worthy of my confidence, my affection, my deepest devotion. I honor him, I trust him, I bow the knee to him. 
A recent journey led me through the local countryside, and as I drove, I observed fields that until recently had been green and full. But now they were now stark and bare. The farmers had gathered their crops into their barns to supply them through the long winter to come. And in much that way, as I reflect on the year that was, I can see that the God of all grace had gathered great stores of goodness and mercy for us. And he then dispensed them at just the right time and in just the right ways. We have known his abundance. He has met our every need, he has spoken comfort to our every sorrow, he has ministered truth to our every fear. He has been most present when most needed. He has not left us. He has not forsaken us. He never would. He never will.
(I will take this opportunity to remind you of the Nick Challies Memorial Scholarship at Boyce College and the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary—a scholarship in Nick’s honor meant to enable others to carry out the ministry that was so important to him—to minister the Word of God in Canada. The scholarship is now receiving funds from donors and distributing them to students. We would be honored if you would consider making a donation.)
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The grace of the Lord Jesus be with you today.

What Is the “Common Good”?
You’ve probably hard the term “the common good.” Andrew Walker explains what it is and why it matters for ethics.
The Basis for Confession
Aubrynn tells how a service she attended took an unexpected but beneficial turn. “When we got to the time of confession and assurance, I was struck by something unexpected: this part of the service was ‘backwards’.”
Doctrine for Life
Human Nature in its Fourfold State. The Crook in the Lot. Notes on the Marrow of Modern Divinity. Read these riveting experiential classics in The Complete Works of Thomas Boston to learn how theology can your life. (Sponsored Link)
What Is Calvinism? A Simple Explanation of Its Terms, History & Tenets
“Calvinism is not a church or a denomination. Calvinism is not even (just) a system of doctrine. Instead, Calvinism is a broad religious tradition with certain shared views and points of emphasis. It is doctrinal, churchly, and activistic. Calvinism teaches that the glory and sovereignty of God should come first in all things. Calvinism believes that only God can lead his church—in preaching, worship, and government.”
Finding freedom from freedom
“We live in what Charles Taylor calls a ‘culture of Authenticity,’ one where the primary values are autonomy, individuality, authenticity, and freedom. Which, since some churches talk about freedom a lot, can be confusing, because I’m not sure we mean the same thing. The freedom our churches talk about is the kind where you get to choose the good, the freedom our culture talks about is the kind where you to choose what the good is.”
Biblical Hope Is a Solid Certainty
Randy Alcorn: “To many of us, ‘hope’ sounds wishful and tentative, but biblical hope means to anticipate with trust. We expect a sure thing, purchased on the cross, accomplished and promised by an all-knowing God. Scripture offers solid ground for our hope in Christ.”
When You Are Done But God Is Not
“Your oldest child heads off to college. A friend you led to Christ and have been discipling moves over 1,000 miles away. Your work contract ends and those you have seen and witnessed to daily for years fade from your life. Our time on earth often passes in cycles—family cycles, ministry cycles, and work cycles. We go from one phase to the next.” Here’s some help on God’s care for us through life changes.
Flashback: Joy Is for the Generous
Money may not be able to purchase the greatest and deepest joy, but it can still generate it. The joy is there for the taking. The joy is there for the giving. The joy is for the generous.

Behavioral compliance to rules without heart-change will be superficial and fleeting. —Tim Keller