When I was young and right on the verge of my teenage years, I attended Asbury Park (New Jersey) Salvation Army Corps (church). It was in a rough-ish neighborhood, and we (all of the kids in the youth programs) were not allowed outside the doors of the corps (church) once the sun went down. “It wasn’t safe,” they told us. So, imagine my shock when the Sunbeam leader, a retired officer (pastor), Major Betty Baker, walked calmly outside in the evening. 

My precocious 13-year-old self immediately cried out, “Major! You can’t go out there! It’s dangerous!” 

She laughed. “Oh, I’m not afraid of any ah them,” she called back in her Scottish accent as she shuffled out.

Well, it turns out that in the late 80s, Major Betty Baker spearheaded The Salvation Army’s ministry to women who had been snared in prostitution. Every weeknight, Major Betty and a driver would load a Salvation Army canteen full of water, coffee and food, and hit the streets of New York City all night, looking for women in need. She became a fixture—a reliable beacon of hope and grace to the women trapped in an unforgiving lifestyle. Armed with little more than her sharp wit and thick Scottish accent, Unflappable Betty zealously ministered to the women. 

She served. She listened. She witnessed. She loved. Everyone who met Major Betty learned about the unconditional love of Jesus. Undaunted by the violence and threats from the pimps, she persisted. Nothing could stop Major Betty from taking care of “her girls.” 

Her ministry even became a training ground for other Salvation Army officers (pastors) and cadets (those training to become officers). Major Betty would occasionally bring small groups out with her to train them in serving the girls, passing on the wisdom and lessons that she herself had learned. 

She continued this ministry even into her formal retirement. As late as the early 00s, she continued to visit her girls in prison and conduct Bible Studies with them. 

As The Salvation Army continues its anti-human trafficking efforts, Major Betty is remembered as the prototype for unconditional love and service to the vulnerable.

She really was one-of-a-kind.

So What?

Major Betty braved the streets of NYC to bring the love of Christ to people who may not have heard it otherwise. How desperate are you to share the gospel with people who would not hear it otherwise?