Imagine you’re 22 years old. You’ve just graduated from an Ivy League university. You’re a powerful communicator, unusually athletic, and — if all that wasn’t enough — you’re also a multimillionaire. The world, it seems, is yours for the taking. What would you do with your life?
This was William Borden’s situation in 1909, and for Borden, the answer was simple: He would devote his life to sharing the gospel among Muslims in China’s impoverished Gansu province. He spent three years at Princeton Seminary; then he moved to Cairo in 1912 to learn Arabic so he could understand the Quran before journeying to Gansu.
After a few short months in Cairo, however, he died of meningitis at the age of 25. The vast majority of his wealth was bequeathed to various missionary causes, to which he had already contributed extravagantly during his short life.
To a secular eye, Borden’s life would seem to have been wasted. But Jesus offers us another, more insightful way to evaluate his life and early death. What can we learn from Borden’s life today?
1. Invest in eternity.
Borden was a fun-loving young man with a wide group of friends. He enjoyed sports, sailing, and cars. But he didn’t let this world’s pleasures master him. One day, he watched an expensive car pass by.
“Wouldn’t I like a car like that!” he exclaimed.
“Why do you not get one, William?” asked a friend who was with him.
“I cannot afford it,” was the unexpected reply. (Borden of Yale, 227–28)
Borden couldn’t afford the car because his wealth was not his own. It had already been given to God.
Was it a waste to have such wealth without enjoying it during his life? Quite the opposite. Even if Borden had lived to old age, he would have died by now and left his vast wealth behind. Borden died having invested his life and wealth in the true “golden years” — the everlasting golden years that lie beyond this life (Matthew 6:20–21). He’ll never regret his investment strategy, nor will any of us who follow his example.
2. Serve God without hurry.
Borden didn’t enjoy the idea of seminary studies, but he devoted three years to them anyway, realizing that “I am not at all fitted or prepared yet. . . . Thorough Bible study is what I do need” (75).
Samuel Zwemer, whom he served under in Cairo, wrote,
Knowing that he had to learn Chinese, [Borden] came to Cairo to perfect himself in Arabic. . . . Here was a man who deliberately set before himself the task of learning not one but two of the most difficult languages in the world. (240)
Borden’s time, like his money, belonged to God. He knew it was only through God’s power that the unreached would be won. But he also knew that God’s Spirit works through human means, including slow years spent forging human relationships, acquiring human languages, and devoting ourselves to human work. He spent a long season of life in theological study and language acquisition, fine-tuning his humble human abilities for God’s service.
3. Leave outcomes in God’s hands.
What was the result of Borden’s great dedication to Christ? He planted no churches in the Gansu province. His evangelistic and teaching gifts — so powerfully evident during his years at Yale and Princeton — were cut short. Why didn’t God accomplish more through this devoted young man? Today, over a century after Borden’s death, many of the Muslim peoples of the Gansu province remain unreached.
But we’re in a poor position to judge what God accomplishes through the lives of those who serve him. Stephen was the first martyr of the early church, and his death could have seemed wasteful at the time. Luke writes,
Falling to his knees he cried out with a loud voice, “Lord, do not hold this sin against them.” And when he had said this, he fell asleep. And Saul approved of his execution. And there arose on that day a great persecution against the church in Jerusalem, and they were all scattered. (Acts 7:60–8:1)
How can this account be anything but a tragedy? A powerful minister’s life is cut short, the Jerusalem church is scattered, and its rapid expansion is halted.
But Luke mentions Saul right after Stephen’s prayer because he wants us to see that the conversion of Saul was an answer to Stephen’s prayer. And he wants us to see that the scattering of the Jerusalem church led to the church’s expansion elsewhere (Acts 8:4).
God wastes nothing. We can’t know all of God’s purposes in Borden’s life and early death, any more than the saints who scattered from Jerusalem could know what he would accomplish through Stephen’s death. But “precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his saints” (Psalm 116:15), and we know that God had good purposes.
No Reserve, No Retreat, No Regrets
Last week, I arrived with my family in Cairo, where Borden died. Like Borden, we don’t intend to stay here in Cairo; political complications in the nearby country where we minister have forced us to relocate temporarily. We hope to return quickly and have a long, successful ministry.
But yesterday, I visited Borden’s grave, which stands as a reminder that there are no guarantees in this world beyond what God has promised. We might not return to the country we’ve served in for years. We might not even be alive tomorrow.
The lesson isn’t to temper our hopes with gloomy realism. The lesson is that we should beware of holding our hopes in this world too tightly. Instead, we should set our hopes higher, in the eternal life and riches God has promised us in the world to come. How will we invest our years, our wealth, our energy, our reputations, and our relationships? The choices we make in this short life show how fully we trust Jesus to give us everlasting life.
A popular narrative tells that after Borden’s death, the formula “No Reserve, No Retreat, No Regrets” was found written in his Bible (Beacon-Light, 273). This narrative is mistaken, but the formula isn’t a mistaken description of his life. Borden was deeply influenced by the hymn that inspired it:
My life to give, my vows to pay,
With no reserve and no delay,
With all my heart, I come.
May this be a faithful description of our lives as well.
Desiring God
