CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 10
SENTIMENTAL JOURNEY
Alan Paton's classic novel of life in troubled South Africa, Cry the Beloved Country, begins with a striking paragraph:
There is a lovely road that runs from Ixopo into the hills.
These hills are grass-covered and rolling, and they are lovely beyond any singing of it. The road climbs seven miles into them, to Carisbrooke; and from there you look down on one of the fairest valleys of Africa. About you there is grass and bracken and you may hear the forlorn crying of the titihoya, one of the birds of the veld. Below you is the valley of the Umzimkulu, on its journey from the Drakensberg to the sea; and beyond and behind the river, great hill after great hill; and beyond and behind them the mountains of Ingeli and East Griqualand.
It was in the valley of the Umzimkulu, one of the fairest valleys in Africa, within sight of the winter snow-clad peaks of the Ingeli, in a pioneer cabin, that Ivy Carol Orr was born.
Edwin Orr travelled 10,000 miles from the arctic darkness of Lapland to this beautiful valley in Africa to lay claim to a treasure that enriched his life throughout his ministry both in practical benefit and undiminished romance.
Orr's sentimental journey began late in 1936. In the heart of Westminster, close by Big Ben and the Houses of Parliament and Westminster Abbey so fascinating to Indian visitors, stands the Westminster Central Hall, the cathedral of World Methodism, known in London as the building most used for central rallies, also famed as the first meeting place of the United Nations
Assembly.
In October 1936, Britain's then best-known religious journalist, Hugh Redwood, told his wide constituency of readers :?
The least conspicuous figure on the platform at the Westminster Central Hall last night was the man whom everyone came to hear. And they came in astonishing numbers. They
filled the great main hall to capacity and they filled the overflow accommodation below.
In the presence of this assembly sat Edwin Orr, twentyfour years of age, until a few years ago a Belfast clerk, now an evangelist of world-wide repute . .
Only a boy to look at, and a little chap at that. But when he arose to his feet he became a flame and a scourge—still very much of a boy in his speech, but a boy ablaze with conviction, and perhaps in some danger of burning himself out, though he won't mind taking the risk ...
This was Edwin Orr's welcome meeting after the completion of his first around-the-world tour with the gospel. About 4,000 folk attended.
Meanwhile, in his native Belfast, his friend? Coulter had noted that "although the younger generation hailed Orr as an embodiment of faith, the older and more influential circles styled him as an adventurer, wise heads shaking disparagingly."
His first world tour over, a "welcome home" meeting was arranged in the Grosvenor Hall (seating about 2,000) in Belfast. Quite unaffected by the whole affair, shabbily dressed and hatless, he sauntered in with the crowd surging past and chatted happily in the foyer. Viewed from the gallery he looked even less impressive as he addressed the audience, but he held it between his thumb and finger.
Orr had an air of preoccupation and seemed to look beyond one rather than at him; in a word, a mystic. His ability to assimilate and appropriate spiritual truth was uncomplicated to the point of being naive. Unbelief in Christians was to him incredible. In keeping with this simplicity was a befitting humility which in the early days served as a shock absorber when opinion was harsh and critical.
His friend Murray also noted idiosyncrasies in Edwin Orr's public manner, speaking of his "absent-mindedness and almost a casualness in dealings with people on ordinary occasions" that contrasted with his remarkable public rapport.* Orr tended to freeze when flattered, sometimes chilling the bearers of friendly flattery.
For some weeks, particularly during his South African tour, Orr had felt quite tired. He had to consult doctors and even
cancel some of his meetings. In England also, after his welcome meeting, the doctor he consulted advised rest for some time.
It is not surprising that Orr felt tired: He had made the severest demands on his mind and body. Quite a young man, with no university or theological training and with little or no preparation for public speaking, he was continually addressing hundreds of large meetings each month, some of them being attended by enormous crowds. These exertions naturally brought on much fatigue.® Orr had many personal problems to face. What was his future work going to be? Was he going to continue this evangelistic work ... he recalled a pessimistic English friend ~_ after publication of his first book, told him:
"T say, Orr. Don't you think that you would serve the Lord better, and cause less concern to the Lord's people, if you were to go back to Belfast and continue working in the bakery office ?"'
What did God want him to do? Orr wanted a clear leading.
He was quite willing to go back to his humble occupation as an office clerk if that was God's plan for his life.
So, in the closing paragraphs of the seventh book of his first series, he announced that he would take himself out of the limelight, leaving no contacts behind to ensure a minimum of distraction:
. up to the mountains, perhaps, or anywhere that one can find quietness. If my work is finished, it will finish with a period of prayer in the wilderness. If it is beginning, it will begin in a quiet time of preparation: and I will know what to do.® Orr's earliest biographer, the late Newman Watts, was greatly struck by this decision made by Orr in late 1936:
After 1936, Orr took himself out of the limelight, calmly and deliberately. Many readers of maturer years will understand me when I say that the test of a man with a career is what he does with himself when the limelight has died down and the publicity is quenched. Orr has stood the test well.
Many a smaller man would have traded on his past achievements and attempted to ride on his reputation for the rest of his life."
Newman Watts wrote those words without realizing that it
would be twelve years before Edwin Orr would engage in the same kind of ministry again. The intervening yéars were to bring him marriage and family, university and theological education, and a period of gruelling service in combat in the armed forces during World War II.
Meanwhile, Orr took off for the unknown. There was a touch of originality in many of the things that he did. He headed for the Arctic regions of Norway in mid-winter. With his friends,
Stanley Donnan and Evan John, he crossed by motor ship to Bergen.
From Oslo, where they were swamped with invitations to preach, they moved to Brumunddal in Hedmark, where a friend of 1935 had settled in a little church. Unknown to Orr, Alfred
Dahl was on his honeymoon, but he insisted that Orr should stay with them while his friends stayed with Einar Lundby, the local physician, recently converted.
The three friends spent their time chiefly in exploring the country. It was healthy and it was interesting: and so they visited lakes and hills, all the while relishing every contact with their hosts, the wonderful Norwegian people.
Edwin Orr was quite impressed with the radiant happiness of Alfred and Esther Dahl. He could understand the affectionate language as well as the loving glance and gesture. It made him think again of a vow that he had made to God upon starting out that he would remain unmarried, unbetrothed and unattached for the duration of his first objective, the ministry of revival around the world. That tour was now completed
Leaving the other two men preaching and singing in the district, Orr travelled farther north in search of peace and quiet. En route to Lapland, he had a happy visit with Prince
Oscar Bernadotte, brother of the King of Sweden. It was bitterly cold when he reached' Kiruna, where snow lay deeply. Orr crossed the border into Arctic Norway, to Narvik. Bjarne Taranger, notified by telegram, met him with a party of friends, all ministers.
Instead of peace and quiet, Orr found that the friends in Finmark had arranged a meeting that evening at 8 p.m., another in the local cinema at 11 p.m., followed by three meetings the next day.
; "we are so shay you eave come to North Norway for a rest," they told him.
It was dark all day nie all night in the Polar regions. The sun had set—as far as Narvik was concerned—in middle November and would not rise above the horizon again until mid-February.
It was cold, and there was plenty of snow. There was local revival in the Narvik churches, but Orr decided against staying
. much longer. given up one hope of marriage in Ireland because of his call.
He had seen other attractive young ladies in the course of his travels, but had avoided any snare of his heart. His mind went back to a girl whom he had met in South Africa, just before his tour had concluded. She was the youngest daughter of a Norwegian couple. They were aware of mutual interest but there was no understanding. Much as Orr prayed about it, he could get no light on the subject. Was it God's will or just his will?
Edwin Orr encountered a Lutheran minister who had been converted during his first visit to Scandinavia.® So he set a proposition before him, without being too specific: ee
Orr could not recall the incident, let alone the details of what he said on that occasion.!° Oct wetred to a quiet spot in the parsonage. When he emerged, his friend asked him if he had received any light upon his problems.
"Yes. I am going to send a cablegram to South Africa to propose marriage to a young lady."
cae ay ss x Under the twinkling stars that night, on board a ship braving Seen evan a hilling breeze, in the bitter cold of a Scandinavian winter,
_ Orr was so happy that he sang aloud old hymns of praise to God for His care. He was completely at peace in heart and soul.
Orr was back with his honeymooning friends in Norway | when the answer to the cablegram arrived. He showed it to Donnan. It was not an acceptance, though it did not close the door to a friendship. Orr packed up.
| "Where are you going?" asked Donnan. ca", was the reply: ''To get mari The abdication crisis was rocking the British Commonwealth.
Orr visited his mother in London and told her that he expected to marry the girl of God's choice within a reasonably short time.4 Who?
U said.
With typical Irish teasing, Edwin Orr sent a cablegram from each port en route to announce his approach to the young lady.
Quite a crisis was building up in the Southern Hemisphere, in "Sakis, land, in Southern Natal, a part noted for its tropical beauty.
Her father, Ivar, had come to Africa as a fisherman, switched to farming virgin lands, and then became a builder, often giving his time freely to the building of the mission stations round ad been born near the borders of Pondo- — rerted S he immediately began teach the gospel, long ay o to gather the Zulus into her kitchen to before any missionary had settled in the territory. One of her
— on earth when | sons had scarcely begun to minister the Word he was called to a higher service. Carol was the secoi ohter to ini The journey to Capetown was not without its hazards of indecision. Orr was travelling a long way with- |
out assurance of success, but he carried a reminder of faith— a return ticket for both himself and his bride. It was not that he was too sure of himself, but rather sure of God's choice.
It took a while to convince everybody else that this was the case. But Edwin Orr took courage in noting that his proposal seemed to gain a greater acceptance as the days went by. Finally their engagement was announced at Isipingo, a beach resort where the bride-to-be's brother was the stationmaster. Relations flocked to the wedding which was set for 15th January 1937, the twenty-fifth anniversary of Orr's birth and the sixteenth anniversary of his conversion.
Stephen C. Bradley, later an Anglican bishop, performed the marriage ceremony in Durban and the couple spent a brief honeymoon in the foothills of the Drakensberg. A combined wedding reception and godspeed gathering for friends was arranged.
Not having had any experience of such affairs, the bridegroom concluded his words of thanks and farewell with an explanation of the way of salvation and invited any inquirers to come for counsel. A number of the audience did so.
The honeymoon was continued on board the ship Stirling Castle en route to Southampton. Orr had promised to be a main speaker in the great Moody Centennial Meetings inLondon in February 1937.
There were four children of the marriage, two girls and two boys. Eileen Muriel was born in Ballymena in Ireland. She was a frail baby, so it was decided that the young mother and child would stay in the sunshine of South Africa rather than risk the varied climates of other countries. She died of pneumonia in 1938, not four months old.1% Carolyn Astrid, a sturdy baby, was born in the snows of Toronto in Canada in 1939, when her father was pastor-evangelist of The Peoples Church associated with the famous Dr.
Oswald J. Smith. Alan was born in summer 1942 in Chicago when his father was studying at Northwestern University and Northern Seminary. David was born in Oxford in autumn 1946 while his father was engaged in research at Oxford University.
Carol Orr's great contribution to her husband's ministry lay in companionship and home-making on all six continents,