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Dorothy Carey: Insights for Cross-Cultural Workers

FROM THE 2011 SPECIAL PREVIEW ISSUE: CELEBRATION OF WILLIAM CAREY'S 250th BIRTHDAY

by James D. Smith III

Not long ago I had the privilege of teaching the Perspectives lesson on “Pioneers of the World Christian Movement” to a fine group at the YWAM base in Tijuana, Mexico. Among those chosen to be explored were William Carey – and his first wife Dorothy. The story of his Enquiry (1792), and iconic service in India until death in 1834, was a familiar inspiration to several. But, as one young couple shared over lunch, with their delightful children present, “We’d never heard of Dorothy – and combining work overseas and family is what we’re really praying about right now.” On June 10, 1781, the 19-year-old shoemaker William Carey married 25-year-old Dorothy Plackett, a farmer’s daughter, in Piddington, Northhamptonshire. How they met is unclear, but the newlyweds were dedicated Christians soon active in the recently organized Hackleton Meeting house. William’s fellowship with the “dissenters” from Anglicanism, and their emerging Baptist leadership, brought lay preaching opportunities. On a different note, their two-year-old firstborn, Ann, died from fever. In 1785, three events opened new horizons. First, those in the Baptist Church in nearby Moulton, noting William’s gifts, called him as pastor. Also, the publication of Andrew Fuller’s The Gospel Worthy of All Acceptation inspired a less hyper-Calvinist, more evangelistic movement in the churches. Finally, during the five years of his pastorate, three children were born: Felix in 1785, then William and Peter. While at Moulton, Dorothy reaffirmed her faith through believer’s baptism in 1787. Two years later, William became pastor at Harvey Lane Baptist Church in Leicester. Already his language skills, voracious reading (including Captain Cook’s narratives) and Scripture study were broadening his worldview. So was a growing network of friends – part of his heavy church workload and community activities. In fact, William’s father complained that he seldom wrote. In response (Nov. 12, 1790), Pastor Carey inked, “You must not expect frequent letters,” exhaustively detailing his daily activities –- and nowhere mentioning time with Dorothy and the children. In this season, another child (their youngest, Lucy) died in her second year. William’s Enquiry (as the full title suggests) obligated all Christians to the Great Commission, utilizing various means to reach the nations. In section four, he cited the impediments: distance, harsh living conditions, danger, and scarcity of life-sustaining necessities. These would affect any persons envisioning overseas fields. What did Dorothy think of this, and her husband’s vocational turns? We can’t be certain.

James Beck, in his insightful biography, Dorothy Carey: The Tragic and Untold Story of Mrs. William Carey (1992), notes the developments. In May, 1792 at the Baptist Association meetings it was “Expect great things from God, attempt great things for God.” On Nov. 27 he wrote to his father, “ I am at the Lord’s disposal, but have little expectation of going myself.” A few weeks later, on Jan. 9, 1793, Carey and Dr. John Thomas officially became the first BMS international workers. For William, vision had triumphed, what remained were the details – including his family. Dorothy decided to stay home in England, and clearly reaffirmed this for many months. No doubt she too recognized the “impediments” to healthy family living overseas, and was fearful, given the whirlwind of plans and arrangements in the air. Quite possibly, she sensed her faithful “sending” role as God’s will – in part because she was pregnant, and faced the grim prospect of childbirth at sea. Leadership supported her, and on March 26, 1793, William and eight year old Felix said farewell to Dorothy, William Jr. and Peter (now moved to a Hackleton cottage with her youngest sister, Kitty) – none knowing if they would meet again. But Carey and company were held up in transit for weeks, entangled with permits, East India Company protocols, contrary winds, convoy needs and fundraising. Meanwhile, baby Jabez was born. Correspondence continued between William and Dorothy – with additional pressure from John Thomas. In a March 10, 1794 letter, he recalled an eleventh-hour conversation: “I went back and told Mrs. Carey her going out with us was a matter of such importance, I could not leave her so – her family would be dispersed and divided forever – she would repent of it as long as she lived. As she tells me since, this last saying, frequently repeated, had such an effect on her that she was afraid to stay at home; and afterwards, in a few minutes, determined to go, trusting in the Lord: but this should be on the condition of her sister going with her. This was agreed.” In a few stressful minutes, some combination of fear and faith had changed the course of her remaining years. The story of the Careys in India has been often told, informed by surviving journal entries and letters from William and colleagues (largely in BMS archives or the Angus Library at Regents’ Park College, Oxford). Though Dorothy became literate in adulthood, we have none of her writings. Beck’s opening chapter on the family in India is aptly entitled “The Moving Sick.” Suffering from chronic dysentery, Dorothy moved with William and four small children from Calcutta to Bandel to Manicktullo to Debhatta – where in Spring 1794, Kitty married Christian salt agent Charles Short. Dorothy moved on with her husband to Mudnabatti (Malda) in August without her sister’s vital support. Then, that Fall, son Peter fell desperately ill – and died. When daughters Ann and Lucy had passed years earlier, the Careys grieved but were supported by family and friends. This loss was radically, tragically different. Evidence suggests that the Careys had received no mail from England during their first two years in India. Moreover, at Peter’s death in October, 1794, their Hindu and Muslim neighbors had religious taboos about death, corpses, burial and bonding. For 72 hours the family could get no one, even low caste workers at their indigo plant, to help bury their decaying son’s remains. The memories were indelible. Even when William’s employer, George Udney, arranged for all to take a break—and Carey’s journal suggests December 1794 was a time of refreshment—only weeks after they returned to Mudnabatti on New Year’s Eve, Dorothy Carey broke under the strain. Perhaps it was the trauma of Peter’s death scenes. Perhaps it was William, the indigo market uncertain, now preoccupied with new school and business plans, while factory duties required supervision of 400 men. Perhaps the cumulative effects of amoebic dysentery had weakened her body and disordered her mind. Perhaps it was the utter isolation she felt, and fears for the remaining children. Whatever the causes, in early 1795 (age 38) Dorothy was jealous and delusional, seeing William’s absences as occasions for sexual infidelity, following him, at times assaulting him, leveling charges to those within earshot. She detailed these in a letter to team member John Thomas, known through his personal correspondence. Reason, prayer, and the first mail from England on May 9 did not relieve Dorothy’s plight. The birth of son Jonathan in Jan. 1796 may reflect a planned pregnancy in hopes of reassurance and restored well-being. What remained was William’s strategy of confining her – and confiding to his journal. For the next 12 years, “Poor Mrs. Carey” (as William said) never mended, raved and was confined, phobic about possible agents of harm to her remaining children. We can’t know whether she was aware of the progress, particularly in Serampore after 1800. Dorothy Carey’s passing at age 51, on Dec. 8, 1807, was noted in the diary of friend William Ward: “Her death was a very easy one; but there was no appearance of the return of reason, nor anything that could cast a dawn of hope or life on her state.” William immediately sent word to Felix, who was bound for Burma (the four surviving sons became cross-cultural workers or civil servants). In Carey’s Jan. 20, 1808 letter to his sisters relating Dorothy’s death, he advised them of his intention to wed Charlotte Rumohr – which he did on May 8. Theirs was a happy marriage – she wanted to be in India and, as William said at her death in 1821, “She had lived only for me.” It appears he had learned some valuable lessons as well. The family in Mexico, referenced at the outset, had never heard of Dorothy Carey. Others (e.g. Timothy George, Faithful Witness: The Life and Mission of William Carey, 1991) tell her story with compassion. But many Carey biographers have left pages of slander. Given William’s glorious accomplishments, she was the problem: “a dull, commonplace woman,” an “illiterate, weak-minded” companion, and “never anything but a clog to him,” styled “a peasant woman with a reproachful tongue.” More helpful insights come from Beck’s biography, and (in my case) local Marriage and Family Therapy practitioners. In teaching, I introduce seminary MFT students to church history through biography, inviting them to engage the lives of historical figures as mentors, and also to identify key stages and issues in these lives which invite counsel and healing. Several have focused on the Careys: “Each decision William made took him closer to his personal, spiritual and career goals – and also took Dorothy further away from the security of her family and into isolation.” “The departure of Kitty proved devastating for Dorothy and the workaholic patterns of William further drained her.” “Women looked admiringly at him, so it didn’t sit well with her when he was too busy.” “Dorothy has much to teach us – about supportive relationships and secure attachments, about balance, about fear, about boundaries.” Today, skilled and Spirit-led counselors can play a key role in developing healthy ministry families. The following dynamics may deserve consideration as well.

The Scripture Principle:

The Careys’ story is a vivid reminder of the tension within Scripture regarding faith and family. Jesus said those who love family more than him are not worthy (Matt. 10:37), and those leaving houses and family for his name’s sake are rewarded, inheriting eternal life (Matt. 19:29). Yet in extremity he cared for his mother (John 19:26-27; cf. Mark 7:9-13), and Paul was inspired to remind disciples that “Anyone who does not provide for their relatives, and especially for their own household, has denied the faith and is worse than an unbeliever.” (I Tim. 5:8). Stewards of life together, we remain mindful that needs (in whatever cultural setting) may be mental, physical, relational or spiritual.

The Hero Principle:

Protestant critiques of Roman Catholic literature and culture sometimes involve the saints and hagiography. Yet in the tales of heroes such as William Carey, a “Dorothy” often stands as frustration or foil. .” The reader suspects both providence and personality were at work when Pastor Carey advised his wife (Spring, 1793) that, “The sense of duty is so strong as to overpower all other considerations.” Studies such as William Petersen’s 25 Surprising Marriages: Faith-Building Stories from the Lives of Famous Christians (1997) remind us of human frailties in divine ventures. Engaging these lives, we should “examine all matters, and hold on to what is good” (I Thess. 5:21).

The Culturally-Sensitive Principle:

Did William work as hard to understand and win Dorothy as he did the peoples of India? Did family and friends in England believe the Careys’ courage meant there was no need of supportive contact? We are uniquely blessed today to have benefit of anthropological, linguistic and other resources enabling culturally sensitive witness. Yet often we are not keen students of the worldview, values, beliefs and behavior of our own family members, colleagues, those we send or our sending churches. As a pastor welcoming faith-based NGO workers on home assignment, I’ve thought, “I hope we’re as diligent showing grace and understanding to each other as to the targeted group on the map…” Hospitality begins at home.

The Oswald Chambers Principle:

In 1927, Biddy Chambers aptly chose My Utmost for His Highest as title for a volume of her husband Oswald’s transcribed teachings. His aspiration was not about strategic obsession or maxed-out strengths and ignored weaknesses, but life-giving biblical wisdom. Chambers said, “If we obey God, it is going to cost other people more than it costs us.” While tempted to see that as our credit line, when healthy it quickens our conscience. As a young husband and father in seminary, I first heard the story of Dorothy and William Carey – and it changed my view of life and ministry. To whatever God might call me, I knew my vocation was to love my wife as Christ loved the Church (Eph. 5:25). To love Him was intimately tied to loving especially my nearest neighbors as myself (Mark 12:28-31). In marriage covenant and shared vocation with my wife, Linda, the Careys remain my teachers.

* Rev. James D. Smith III (Th.D. Harvard) is professor of church history at Bethel Seminary San Diego, and has lectured extensively at the University of San Diego. A longtime editorial board member for Christian History & Biography, he has co-edited The Fabric of Early Christianity, The Subjective Eye, the Encyclopedia of Christian Literature, and most recently the Dictionary of Christian Spirituality (Zondervan). He also writes baseball history.

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