As I walked among the children’s graves, I realized that God’s grace is always free, but never cheap.
The Central Plateau joins Nigeria’s steamy rain forests to the south with the scorching wind of the approaching Sahara to the north. On the northern edge of the plateau lies the village of Miango. Just to the west of the ruined cone of an extinct volcano, SIM (the new name of the Sudan Interior Mission) runs the Miango Guest House, a place of shelter and relaxation for burned-out church workers.
The guest house shares its grounds with Kirk Chapel, a solid, fieldstone building whose coolness invites the visitor to linger in the presence of God. Sheltered by large trees, a quiet garden behind the chapel sits, protected by a stone wall. In these peaceful surroundings I come across a reminder of what it can cost to serve the Lord. Here is some of what I read:
Ethyl Armold: September 1, 1928–September 2, 1928.
Edith Armold: September 1, 1928–September 4, 1928.
Barbara J. Swanson: 1946–1952.
Douglas Kent Hay: June 28, 1952–June 28, 1952.
Norman Keith Hay: April 12, 1955–August 17, 1955.
Eileen Louise Whitmoyer: May 6, 1952–July 3, 1955.
Cheryl Lynn Purviance: March 23, 1954–May 17, 1955.
Elizabeth Ruth MacLellan: May 24, 1956–February 14, 1957.
Melvin Louis Goossen: May 5, 1945–April 12, 1958.
Arthur Levi Goossen: September 29, 1912–April 12, 1958.
Alan Paul Lavely: August 28, 1958–August 28, 1958.
James Paul Lohrenz: July 8, 1957–November 13, 1958.
Samuel Daniel Morray: September 14, 1989–July 11, 1991.
Most of the graves in this graveyard are little ones. Two-, three-, and four-foot mounds predominate over the standard six-footer. Thirty-three of the 56 graves hold the bodies of small children. Missionary parents brought them to a hostile environment, where disease and hardship took a tremendous toll. Some old-timers know a few of the stories, but most are forgotten. As a visitor to the cemetery, I can only speculate.
Some of the graves hold infants. Douglas Kent Hay and Alan Paul Lavely entered this world and departed it in less than 24 hours. Other children lived longer, perhaps giving their parents hope that God would work a miracle and let them survive. God said no to the prayers of the Armold family, taking Ethyl at one day and Edith two days later. They were probably sickly twins, and their parents knew what to expect. Maybe Elizabeth Ruth MacLellan or Cheryl Lynn Purviance were different. Each lived about a year and could have given signs of good health.
More painful would have been the deaths of children whom the parents had gotten to know. Eileen Louise Whitmoyer was a little more than three. Was she a pudgy toddler with a bright smile for Mommy? How quiet the house must have been when she was gone. Barbara J. Swanson was six. She may have been a first-grader just learning to read the Bible when she went to be with Jesus.
Sickness claimed several children, and others died in accidents. Melvin Louis Goossen was almost 13 when he and his brother attempted to cross the suspension bridge that spanned a rain-swollen creek. Their father saw them fall and managed to save one son. He went back for the other, but he did not return.
Those tragedies were not confined to a single decade. Most of the stones with still legible writing were erected in the fifties when young families could at last come to the field after the war, but time has erased the names and dates over other graves. Samuel Daniel Morray’s marker shows that even in the nineties, with all the advances in medical science, God still calls some parents to make the ultimate sacrifice.
What happened to the parents who left so much of themselves in that graveyard? Ian Hay entered that cemetery in 1952 to bury his infant son. Then he stood on that same ground three years later to bury one of a set of twins. He left Miango and later became the head of SIM. Today he testifies to the faithfulness of God amidst life’s greatest pain.
Of the other parents I am ignorant. Why did God allow their hearts to break? How did they respond when God said no to their cries and prayers? Only heaven will reveal how his grace was sufficient for their need.
Standing in that graveyard I remember Adlai Stevenson’s remark when he returned from an inspection tour of Africa. He was asked, “What most impressed you about Africa?” “The graves. The graves,” he said. West Africa was called “The White Man’s Grave” because most of the early missionaries died soon after arriving. The graves in Miango show that even today people are giving their lives so others can hear the gospel.
The adults who came here counted the cost. They knew the risks. But the babies and children did not choose to come here. For this reason, seeing the children’s graves is wrenching.
No one who has ever been a parent thinks that those who brought or had their children here did something easy. They knew that risking their children was much more difficult than risking themselves. Most parents would gladly suffer pain rather than have their children bear it. Like Arthur Goossen they would give their lives if it could save their child.
The graveyard at Miango tells us something about God and about his grace. It testifies that God is not a jolly grandfather who satisfies our every desire. Certainly those parents wanted their children to live. They pled with God, but he denied their request.
The graves also show us that God is not a calculating merchant who withholds his goods until we produce enough good works or faith to buy his help. If anyone had earned credit with God, it would have been these missionaries. They left all to spread the gospel in a hostile environment. But God does not hand out merit pay.
Not only do we learn about God’s nature from the Miango graveyard, but we also discover truths about his grace. God’s grace may be free, but it is not cheap. Neither purchasing our salvation nor letting us know of the gift was inexpensive.
Beginning with Abel, many of the witnesses to divine grace sealed their words with their blood. Jesus asked the Jews which of the prophets was not persecuted? When he first sent out his disciples, he promised them betrayal and death. Then, at the end of his ministry, he promised his followers that as they carried his word, they would face trouble and hatred.
That promise came true. Peter and John were jailed and flogged for daring to exalt their Lord. Later Paul catalogued what it cost him to be Christ’s ambassador: prison, beatings, shipwrecks, constant danger, hunger, thirst, exposure, and worry. Peter tells his readers not to be surprised that they are called to participate in their Lord’s pain. Tradition tells us that all the apostles except John were martyred as they carried out their commission, and John himself died in exile.
Which of the fields where the church is established has not been planted with bloody seed? As Tertullian said long ago, “The blood of martyrs is the seed of the church.” Some of the seeds sown behind Kirk Chapel in Miango were mature, but most were undeveloped. Still, they produced a mighty harvest, as the Nigerian church has multiplied and grown strong.
The cost of spreading the news of God’s grace is high, but it cost much more to make that grace available to us. Christians have paid the price for spreading the news, but God paid the infinitely greater price on the cross to purchase our salvation. “God so loved the world that he sent his only begotten Son.…” The only way we can understand the graveyard at Miango is to remember that God also buried his Son on the mission field.
