“Do you know who Barzillai is?” I asked my Grandfather.
“No.” He replied. “I don’t believe I do.”
I asked my Father the same thing. Neither one of them knew who the biblical character Barzillai was.
Now, that’s not a slight on my Father or Grandfather. These two men are ministers, and they knew their Bibles. It just shows how obscure Barzillai is in the Bible.
It makes it all the more surprising that the story of Barzillai must have captivated Isaac and Deliverance Willey so much that they named one of their sons “Barzillai.”
For the record, Barzillai was an elderly rich man who aided King David when he fled for his life from his son Absalom who had just carried out a successful coup d’état. King David crossed the Jordan River tired and hungry. Barzillai brought him supplies and encouragement.
Barzillai Willey was born in 1734 in Lyme, CT. He died in 1771. He was a veteran of the French and Indian War, and he had a son whom he named–Barzillai!
The second Barzillai was born in 1764. As a very young man, he became a soldier in the Continental Army in the Connecticut Line and served at the Battle of Saratoga. After the Revolution, Barzillai became a Methodist minister. Eventually, he moved his family to Clark County, Indiana.
He had a son whom he named Barzillai, but my own interest is in his son Dennis Willey, who is my 4th Great Grandfather. Dennis Willey was a Methodist minister like his Father.
One of his daughters was named Margaret Minerva Willey, and she married Jairus McMillan. Jairus had left his home in Oneida County, New York, and traveled on foot from farmhouse to farmhouse to southern Indiana. There, he met Margaret, and they were married in 1855.
Apparently, the ministry was very important to Margaret Willey, and she longed to have a son who would be a minister like her father. Her desires were answered in her son, Clyde Holmes McMillan, who became a Methodist minsiter. Incidentally, Clyde married a minister’s daughter named Florence Mae Maupin, daughter of William Maupin.
Margaret Willey was so excited about her son Clyde being a minister that, according to my McMillan cousins, she would take out ads in the paper any time Clyde would come back home to North Vernon, IN to preach.
Clyde and Florence had several children including my Great Grandmother Roberta McMillan. Roberta developed a love for God and His Word in her early years. As she described it: “My Father would read a passage of Scripture and then our family would kneel at our chairs for prayer. It was here a reverence and love sprang up in my heart for God’s Word in those early years.”
This same devotion led my Great Grandmother to God’s Bible School in Cincinnati and then to a desire to go to the mission field. After graduating, both My Great Grandmother and my Great Grandfather were on their way to serve in Africa–separately.
Clarence said goodbye to his friends and family and headed off to Africa first. During that time, his Father, James Mason Keith, had a dream that Clarence had come back to find a wife. Everybody laughed because they knew that Clarence was off to Africa. Unbeknownst to them, the documents for the trip had not been filed properly, and Clarence had to return home. While he was home, he paid Roberta a visit and asked her to marry him. She assented, and they went to Africa together.
There, Clarence and Roberta had eight children. Their three sons were also ministers, one of whom was David Keith, the Grandfather I mentioned in the introduction to this story. Three of the daughters married ministers.
My Grandfather and Grandmother David and Huberta Carver Keith also met at God’s School of the Bible, and they ended up in Africa as missionaries. There, they had four children, the oldest of whom is my Mother.
When my Mother was 19, she met my Father, Sam White, at what was then Marion College and is now Indiana Wesleyan University. Undoubtedly, part of my Mother’s attraction to my Father was that he was planning on being a minister. From a young age, My Mother had had a desire to serve the Lord and was happy to partner with my Father to serve Christ and His church.
Their son, John Wesley White, never wanted to be a minister. I don’t believe it ever even crossed my mind growing up. I even went in a different direction theologically. I moved away from the Wesleyan Church and went into the Presbyterian Church.
You always think that your destiny and decisions are your own. But here I am, an eighth generation minister. I wonder what good old Barzillai Willey would think of that.
Probably, could we see over the parapet of heaven, we might see Barzillai Willey and others gone before…watching and praying as you’re coming along in the journey…step by step following their footprints toward the Celestial City. In spite of human stumblings and missteps…God keeps inviting us to follow and serve, doesn’t he? We wonder about and pray for the next generations of followers…more ministers of the Gospel?
That’s a beautiful thought, Mary! Thanks for reading and commenting!