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At our National Staff Conference, I gave tribute to my new hero – Adoniram Judson. Since many of you have inquired to know more about him, I thought I would tell you what I think made him such a remarkable person.

Judson was the son of a conservative (and rather dour) late 18th century New England minister. He rebelled against his parents’ faith; and at the age of 18, he declared himself to be a deist at best, an atheist at worst. His partner in this rebellion was his best friend, a young man named Jacob Eames.

After renouncing his would-be inherited faith, Judson headed off to New York City to pursue an acting career. After this option fizzled, he enrolled in Brown College. During his second year, while traveling home one weekend, he stayed in a small hotel. The proprietor told him that the only room available was next door to a dying man.

Desperate for a roof over his head, Judson took the room anyway and listened all night to the blasphemous mutterings and moans of a man who obviously had no knowledge of a personal God. When Judson awoke, the proprietor informed him that the man had indeed passed away. Out of curiosity, Judson pressed for the man’s name.

When the proprietor responded, “Jacob Eames,” Judson shivered. Stunned, he had unknowingly been listening to death process of his best friend. One word ran through his mind again and again – “lost.” He knew that he too was alone and doomed.

Three months would pass before young Judson made his ultimate peace with God. And, when he did, a reborn person emerged. Never again would he stick his finger in the face of the Almighty. Now, instead, he surrendered his life to his Creator and Savior.

Over the next four years, sensing a call to serve as a missionary, Judson assembled a team of students and persuaded a group of pastors to support the proposed enterprise to Burma (today known as Myanmar).

But hardships waited at every turn. The youngest member of the team – a mere 17 years old – died en route. Shortly after landing in Rangoon, Judson lost all of his donors over a denominational dispute. Suspected of being a British spy, he was thrown into a “death prison” where he was hung upside down in leg irons every night.

Judson survived his year in prison, but his wife died shortly thereafter. For several months, he was so depressed that he sat daily beside her tomb. Three years later, he wrote: God is to me the Great Unknown. I believe in him, but I cannot find him.

Yet, even during those difficult times, the most amazing conversion of Judson’s ministry occurred. A fifty-year-old tribal man named Ko Tha Byu (who had been involved in at least 30 murders) was purchased from slavery and learned to read the Burmese Bible that Judson was translating.

When Ko Tha Byu returned to his people, he boldly proclaimed the Gospel. Later known as the “apostle to the Karen,” he helped establish a strong church, which still flourishes among the tribe to this day.

During his four decades in Burma, Judson led about twenty-five Burmese to the Lord. Perhaps only ten of these displayed a real, living faith. Over this time period, he also buried two wives, six children, and eleven co-workers.

A decade ago, a celebration was held to honor the 150th anniversary of Judson’s translation of the Burmese Bible. Paul Borthwick, a good friend of ��ñ����’s, attended. As he picked up a Bible, he could only read one sentence (“Translated by the Reverend A. Judson”). The Burmese Bible is still the version used today.

When Paul asked a host pastor what he knew of Judson, the man responded: “Whenever someone mentions Judson’s name, tears come to my eyes, because we know what he and his family suffered. . .. “Today there are six million Christians in Myanmar, and every one of us traces our spiritual heritage to one man – the Reverend Adoniram Judson.”

As we ponder Judson’s life, we must ask ourselves many questions. Are we as committed to our mission to reach seventeen million students and faculty as he was dedicated to his? What sacrifices are we willing to make now to see the Gospel spread on campus? Are we willing to toil day after day – often with limited results — so that God can raise up millions of believers in the future? Are we willing to imagine what God is capable of doing?

Note: If you are interested in reading more about Adoniram Judson, I strongly suggest Courtney Anderson’s wonderful biography, To the Golden Shore, published in 1956 by Little, Brown and Company, and republished in 1987 by Judson Press.