In 1968 Francis Schaeffer wrote his famous book The God Who Is There, the reality that the title claimed, however, had long been familiar to him. In 1948 he moved his family from the comforts of home to the unfamiliar territory of the Swiss Alps. In her book Edith Schaeffer unfolds the story of their establishing L’Abri and the missionary work that drove them to Switzerland. The largest part of that answer seems to have been that they genuinely believed God was present in very personal ways in their life, and it was He who was directing them there.
L’Abri is a compelling book that introduces readers to the world behind the brilliant mind and ministry of Francis and Edith Schaeffer. It is a world ruled by the belief in a personal God who is present and who cares about their lives. The book convicted me of my own lack of devotion to this personal God who speaks and moves and leads and directs. I was impressed with their faith, and even more impressed with God’s faithfulness as I read through it. If Schaeffer’s philosophical works seem so full of conviction and full of hope it is because he lived through this story that Edith unpacks in her book. L’Abri puts skin and bone on Schaeffer’s philosophy.
Francis Schaeffer’s forward to the book reveals this relationship. He writes:
This book and my books form a unity. The work of L’Abri has two inter-related aspects. First, there is the attempt to give an honest answer to honest questions – intellectually and upon careful exegetical base. My books, The God Who Is there, Escape from Reason and Death in the City are directed to this aspect. The second aspect is the demonstration that the Personal-Infinite God is really there in our generation. When twentieth century people come to L’Abri they are faced with these two aspects simultaneously, as the two sides of a single coin. Now, in this book, this second side is presented.
The demonstration that this personal-infinite God is really there is what L’Abri is all about. It’s not just what the regular guests and residents of the Schaeffer’s home witnessed as they learned from Francis, prayed with the family, and witnessed God answer prayers. It is what we as readers encounter as we read their story. God shows up in these pages regularly to reprimand our faith, to encourage it, and to reveal His faithfulness to those who truly depend on Him. It’s twenty-two chapters narrate the lives of the Schaeffers, particularly from Edith’s perspective. She writes about their personal struggles, their ministry difficulties, their family hardships. She writes about conversions they witnessed, illness the suffered, and transitions they made. In all of it, however, there is one recurring refrain: God exists and interacts with His children in personal ways.
The events of their narrative turn on one key moment. After a year in Switzerland with some honorable successes as missionaries, the Schaeffers returned to the U.S. for eighteen months. They were returning to Europe “with an excitement to see what God will do.” It was one morning back at their chalet that Francis asked an unsettling question of Edith. We read:
Supposing we had awakened today to find everything concerning the Holy Spirit and prayer removed from the Bible – that is, not removed the way liberals would remove it, but that God had somehow really removed everything about prayer and the Holy Spirit from the Bible. What difference would it make practically between the way we worked yesterday and the way we would work today, and tomorrow? What difference would it make in the majority of Christians’ practical work and plans? Aren’t most plans laid out ahead of time? Isn’t much work done by human talent, energy and clever ideas? Where does the supernatural power of god have a real place? (64-65)
The challenge to depend on God would drive the rest of their ministry. They broke from the missions agency they were with to refocus themselves and their endeavors. They began to earnestly cry out to God for direction and provision. Whether they were about to lose their residence, in need of funds, or about to be kicked out of the country they would depend wholly on the provisions of God. They prayed and God answered their prayers. They prayed for God to send the right people to L’Abri to get help, and “to keep away all others,” and they saw conversions. The story of L’Abri is actually far less about Francis and Edith Schaeffer then one might assume, it is far more about their God who is there and who interacts with His people in personal ways.
The book was deeply convicted for me. It challenged me in my own lack of faith and deficient prayer. The same questions that Francis asked of his family were being asked of me. And the narrative of God’s work in their ministry and lives was a reminder that God is personal. God is really there! I loved this book. It was enlightening about what L’Abri was really like, in fact it was captivating. Edith is not completely romantic in her descriptions. She writes honestly about sorrow, pain, and hardship. She writes about prayers that God did not answer as they would have liked. She does not suggest that all was roses and stain-glassed window in their experiences. But she never leaves doubt about the call of God upon their lives and the faithfulness of God to them.
This is a beautiful story and one worthy of your reading. It will challenge you, encourage you, and inspire you. It will remind you of the great truth of Scripture and the great truth of Francis Schaeffer’s life and work: God is there and He is not silent!
I have been a fan of the Schaeffers for years. I heard Dr. Schaeffer speak in Grand Rapids and Edith at women’s retreat. Their writings have challenged and inspired me.
I was very perplexed with Frankie’s walk away from conservative, Biblical Christianity. Is it true that he now claims to have left Christianity totally.
Bess, I bet that was a wonderful experience to hear both of them teach. I too love Dr. Schaeffer and Edith. His work in particular has benefited me greatly and influenced me immensely. This book on L’Abri was surprisingly insightful and challenging. The story of Franky is a sad one. The last I heard of him was that he had walked away from the faith, though now he calls himself “an atheist who still believes in God.” I have no clue what that means, but I guess that’s what he is.
More recently, I’ve detected a softening of his attitude to his Christian roots.