by David Melton
I make notes to myself. I have this special tray beside my computer — literally within arms reach as I write this — and in that tray is the most eclectic, fascinating (to me), and inspiring tidbits I can collect that can’t be damaged if I spill my coffee. The little collection sits just beside the picture of my wife, Kim, if that tells you something about how I feel about my “notes.”
On one of those notes is an address — 33 Somerset Street, Boston. I found this address years ago doing research on the life of the great missionary Adoniram Judson. He instructed friends to send him parcels to that address in downtown Boston, and at the “missionary rooms” there they would find a way to get the articles to Burma. I was determined to find out what I could about 33 Somerset Street.
As I suspected, the “missionary rooms” are long since gone, and ironically enough for me, the address now is just steps from the building that houses the Massachusetts Board of Higher Education — a place I know well. Today, 33 Somerset is really only an entrance into a modern building. That is a shame.
I have seen “33” and cannot help but wonder how much eternal good was done in that little building in the 1800s. I know that letters of love and encouragement passed through there on their way to faithful servants like Judson. Some dear saint, whose identity is completely lost to us, went about the daily routine of thankless jobs — making sure people who would change the world got taken care of.
I want to think of Boston Baptist College as the progeny of 33 Somerset Street — not too much that meets the eye, and unlikely to be tourist attractions a century from now — unnoticed by most, and yet familiar to the glance of heaven, day in and day out investing in those who spread the gospel. I feel sure that in the little “missionary rooms” young men and women on their way to their life’s work found help to take the next step. The hustle of the city was down on Congress Street or Charles Street or Tremont Street. Somerset was a little off the beaten path — doing what few would notice, but what eternity would celebrate. Sounds a lot like Boston Baptist College to me.
I am pretty sad about what has become of 33. Now it is just a doorway. But almost 200 years later I still celebrate what they did. I suspect there are a lot of us out there doing what God has given us to do today. My college work and your Christian service doesn’t draw a lot of attention. Maybe even seems like you do pretty routine things, and that all the really “cool” stuff happens somewhere else. Please never forget that “33 Somerset” has to do its job — or the things we read about in inspirational missions accounts do not happen. Maybe they won’t put up a plaque in your honor at your “33 Somerset Street,” but He will. If you need to, leave yourself a note to remind you of that.