Remember the Prisoners

“Remember the prisoners, as though you were in prison with them and the mistreated as though you yourself were suffering bodily.” Hebrews 13:3

Walking into church late with head held high, her high heels click on the porcelain tile as she waves to friends and grabs a cup of gourmet coffee before stepping inside the packed worship center. She steps past the state of the art sound equipment and plops down in a cushioned chair as she passively listens to her Pastor teach eloquently from the stage. A gifted speaker, with many years of study and two degrees, he is trained to hold the audience’s attention. Yet she still finds her mind wandering. She glances at her watch - a to-do list waiting at home, bills to pay, dad in the hospital, son’s struggling grades. Finally the sermon ends and a video plays, holding her full attention for the first time this morning. The hair on her arm stands up as the dramatic words express God’s love. She claps her hands and leaves satisfied. In her luxury SUV she hits a quick drive through before heading to the grocery store and then home to clean her house for Bible study tomorrow night. Never stopping to relish the privilege she has, she is unaware of over 200 million Christians around the world who daily face persecution and death for a faith much of America takes for granted.

Nearly 70 percent of the world’s population live in countries with restrictions on simple freedoms we enjoy in abundance - owning a Bible, attending church or openly confessing to be a Christian. They have no surplus of Bibles on bookstores shelves. They are confiscated and banned. Churches are either government run or forced to meet underground at high risk. Christians are separated from family, beaten, brainwashed, imprisoned and killed. How difficult to imagine life where the greatest motivation for living is also a basis for death. What does faith look like under such a weight?

If you look beyond the scars of the persecuted a beautiful faith is revealed. One that has been refined by fire and worth more than gold, you uncover a commitment that looks much like Jesus’. You find a commitment to obey the Father through great physical pain. A love that survives tests of torture and forgives the torturer. Boldness in sharing Jesus with presence of fear and joy poured out through song inside prison cells. Yet the persecuted would not trade one of these things for mediocre faith. They know in accepting Christ they are trading their comfort in this life for their reward in another. “So we do not lose heart. Though our outer self is wasting away, our inner self is being renewed day by day. For this light momentary affliction is preparing for us an eternal weight of glory beyond all comparison, as we look not to the things that are seen but to the things that are unseen. For the things that are seen are transient, but the things that are unseen are eternal.” (2 Corinthians 4:16-18) Their powerful testimonies leave a permanent imprint on the earth.

Currently Pakistani Christians are being accused of blasphemy, which in Pakistan is crime punishable by death. An Iranian pastor faces execution due to a crackdown on the growing Protestant church movement in the Islamic nation. Eight Christians were killed in Nigeria this week. A girl in India was poisoned by her family after accepting Christ. And similar headlines continue throughout 60 countries spread out over 5 continents. The increasing numbers of Christians martyred each year towers near 200,000. These precious people take the words of Jesus seriously: “The person who loves father or mother more than Me is not worthy of Me; the person who loves son or daughter more than Me is not worthy of Me. And whoever doesn’t take up his cross and follow Me is not worthy of Me. Anyone finding his life will lose it, and anyone losing his life because of me will find it.” (Matthew 10:37-39). They understand the cost of following Jesus and they love Him more than life.

Let us never forget these men, women and children are our brothers and sisters in Christ. We are called to be one – one body. “There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope at your calling;” (Ephesians 4:4-5). They are not in this battle to survive, they are in it to advance God’s kingdom and they need our support. What can we, the American church, do to help our hurting family?

If the persecuted answered this question, they would quickly ask for prayer – specific prayer calling on the Lord for deliverance, endurance and love for the ones mistreating them. Many websites contain information on how to pray over the churches. Others focus on individuals and allow you the privilege to pray for their needs. Operationworld.org is an excellent resource, detailing updated information on the gospel working in every nation and sharing prayer requests from every country. It is all laid out in a daily format that will transform your prayer life and possibly change the world.

They would also request we show our concern by involvement in ministries supporting our persecuted body. Voice of the Martyrs is one of many organizations offering the opportunity to write a word of encouragement to the prisoners. Writing to government officials on behalf of the persecuted is also a great need. Become aware and make others aware. Speak out for those who cannot. And give. Bibles are priceless in restricted countries and families of prisoners are starving. We who have much are blessed to be a blessing. Let our gratefulness spur our giving.

Maybe even consider the call to go. The bored and privileged church attendee went and changed more than her perspective. It changed her life and the lives of those around her.

After a twenty-two hour plane ride and high heels left at home, she steadies her swollen feet as her eyes adjust to the darkness. More than the night sky darkens this country - Communism has enclosed it for years. Her stomach growls and she remembers the spiritual hunger of this nation. The hour is late, but with no time to waste; her small group of Americans locates “the friend” and proceeds down darkened streets. Once her sense of direction is completely lost, she is hurried up three flights of stairs and into a tiny apartment. Wall to wall people fill the place from the kitchen to the bathroom, people sit and look at them ready to receive God’s Word. Men, women and children, all there at risk of their lives, but determined to make what time they have count to the fullest. As soon as her mouth opens all eye contact is lost as each person readies themselves to take fierce notes. Opportunities like this are few. Tears roll down her cheeks as she feels God’s presence in that room more than she ever had in her multimillion dollar worship center half a world away. She prays she never forgets this moment. And never again overlooks these precious soldiers of Christ ready to give their all.

Healing for a Heart: A True Story of Hope in the Holy Land

To meet Linda Reppert today you would never know a few months ago she was diagnosed with a serious heart disease expected to affect her quality of life and shorten her life span. Her slender, athletic build, sun kissed skin and hair conveys a picture of health. When her steady hazel eyes meet yours and her lips give way to a friendly smile, there is no indication of fear or uncertainty. Yet, for eight long months she has had countless doctor appointments, numerous tests and a surgery to determine what has caused her enlarged heart. It is still unknown why her blood pumps at only 50% capacity. At times she has actually felt her heart working inside her as it struggled to do its intended job. Facing a relentless fatigue daily she still cares for her family and friends as the ever strong one. It was in the midst of such crucial physical circumstances; Linda made the decision to visit Israel a second time.

Linda had been home only four days when she agreed to meet with me following her fourth doctor appointment of the week. Due to being sent for an unforeseen test our time was delayed although the results of that appointment would become the driving force behind my every word. I walked into Linda’s home only hours after she received news open heart surgery was recommended to repair or replace a worn out defective valve the doctors believe is a contributing cause of her enlarged heart. She was given less than a 60% chance her life will improve after the surgery. Remaining untreated, her heart will eventually stop working. I sat and listened to her story while my own heart ached and tears poured on my paper, yet not once did her faith appear to waiver. Not once did she seem without hope. Heaviness came over me as I realized the weight of the story God had entrusted me to write. It was one with much more impact than a friend’s recent visit to Israel.

With her doctor’s approval Linda set out on a journey that would change, challenge and encourage her as she faced the trial of a lifetime. “Though I immediately started feeling my heart struggling I did not miss a minute of the tour. Aside from my husband and two close friends the other 28 people did not know of my condition. I did not want to be the ‘sick one’ or someone people had to worry about.” Despite her swollen legs and extreme fatigue she felt God strengthen her to press on to each location and soak in many lessons.

Near the end of the trip there came a time for her secret to be revealed. As they neared the Pool of Bethesda, known as a place of healing, Linda knew she could not leave without prayer. “Being obedient to James 5:14: ‘If anyone is sick, let him call to the elders to pray and anoint him with oil.’ This would be the third time I requested this from a different set of elders in different locations.” Knowing He could heal, and trusting Him completely with the decision, they prayed fervently each time. Linda’s heart remained the same. Yet that moment in Jerusalem became most memorable as God spoke to her soul through James 1:2-4: “Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” Like Paul, she had brought her request before the Lord three times and He had chosen for her to endure. “I realized that going through this trial was the only way God could make me ‘mature and complete, not lacking in anything.’ We all want the end result, but most of us do not want to go through the trial to get the maturity.” She felt peace and a renewed joy to be serving Him, even with a defective heart.

They visited a church near the pool where the acoustics could have made a frog croak sound like a blue bird in the morning. “How could we not sing?” Fresh from begging her Maker for healing, still sick she turned to Him and sang, “Lord, I give you my heart…” The significance of the words not lost on her she continued on, “I give you my soul, and I live for you alone. Every breath that I take, every moment I am awake, Lord have Your way in me…”

Another powerful moment on this pilgrimage to the Holy Land was when they passed through the valley of death and entered the Garden of Gethsemane. Heart pounding, breathless and sweating, Linda was overwhelmed thinking the Lord was allowing her to share in a very slight glimpse of His suffering in the Garden. “I realized this was not only a place of prayer, but a place of decision. What God was asking me to endure would cost me something. Would I be able to reach the point in the struggle to pray, ‘Not my will, but yours be done?’ The lesson continued as I recognized this place of prayer and decision was also a place of betrayal.” Tears stung her eyes, but the pain that filled her heart at that moment was not physical. She knew betrayal. Any tears cried since her diagnosis was not from fear or pain, but rather the lack of encouragement from some of her family. Ones trusted to protect her seemed to be leaving her alone at a time when most needed. Mercifully, her pain, decision and betrayal were very tiny compared to Jesus who had faced total separation from God when He bore our sin. Because of this, Linda would never have to be alone. Jesus would be her constant companion during her trial. She would steady her eyes on her Savior as He has fixed His eyes on His Father. She knew there would be glory after her Gethsemane just as Jesus had glory after His.

Leaving the Garden they trekked on down the Via Dolorosa, the street where Jesus carried His cross up to Golgotha. “When Jesus entered Jerusalem he came down a hill on a donkey and the people cried ‘Hosanna!’ It was a grand entrance coming down the hill but when He left the city it was a sorrowful incline. He had been beaten and you could almost picture Him in the street with the cross. He came in all His glory and I sent Him out with all my sin.” Linda’s chest again hurt, this time the pain spiritual as she felt the crushing cost of her own sin upon the back of her Savior. To stop there would be to lose all hope, so she continued on.

Walking from the place of the Skull to the garden tomb, Linda’s heart took on a renewed strength. She could not wait to get there. Just as Jesus’ fearful and despairing disciples became courageous and filled with hope at the sight of the risen Lord, Linda’s disposition also changed. “We all took our turn going into the tomb. People were exiting with heads down processing it or weeping. I came out with a smile and my arms were raised. It was a place of victory; a place of hope.” Many have shed tears over her physical struggle, but she really has not. If she has cried it has been in response to the reactions of others. The same hope that fills the empty tomb fills her entire being. Her confidence lies not in the doctor’s words but in the very Word of God. “My flesh and my heart may fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.” (Psalm 73:26) Though an uncertain road lies ahead, she walks in complete trust of the God that has ordained her every day.

The Privilege of Preference

I can still see Kevin standing in the middle of the street filled with swerving bicycles and honking cars. Over the straw hats and brightly colored umbrellas his small frame seemed to stand tall. His arm waved recklessly as he called out “Goodbye Ms. Mindy!” with a heavy accent. No longer able to see him through tears, I turned and walked away leaving a piece of my heart spilled out on that crowded China road. I would never be the same.

Those last weeks in China, Kevin had been my constant companion. Through tired eyes, I would spot him coming toward me the moment I stepped into the cafeteria for breakfast at 7 am. He would walk me to class and sit in the front row as I taught English to 12 very eager students. When I would give a break, some students would immediately switch to their native tongue and head out. Others would sometimes lag behind and speak with me for awhile. Kevin always remained, rarely leaving my side.

While all my students were dear to me and all thrilled to learn, Kevin was unique. He had joined the class midway through the summer after one of the four girls in my class had to leave for military reasons. This school was one of the best in China and available only to the wealthy. My students came from the homes of government officials, military generals or such, except for Kevin. His grandmother cleaned the school and after hearing of the opening in my class, persuaded the school officials to allow her academically advanced grandson to attend for the remainder of the program. Kevin had a passion for English, wanting to learn everything he could, valuing every single minute with me. Idioms, grammar, American culture and even the gospel – the more I shared, the more he wanted to know.

One day as we walked to get coffee flavored ice cream; (the only flavor offered at a local ice cream stand) Kevin shared his dreams to study in America, a dream that seemed unreachable. He had so many hurdles to overcome, one major one being a national test given to all students that determines whether one can attend college, and if so where. He said, “Many students are not allowed into college and are instead assigned to a job. In fact, the day the test results come out is referred to as “Suicide Day” because many teenagers take their life rather than face the disappointment of their parents or a life time spent in a factory.” My naïve American mind struggled to comprehend. After searching through hundreds of possible colleges and universities, I then set out to visit several before finally making my own decision of where I wanted to attend. I turned down a job and accepted another one. I changed my major half-way through school. I changed schools half-way though my major. Kevin’s whole life would be determined for him. Was it any wonder he was so desperate to learn?

I returned home, welcoming the break of my rice and watermelon diet, yet struggled to adjust back to life in America. Questions plagued my prayer time; decisions – from the big to the small – frustrated me. Ordering ice cream off a menu of 36 flavors, picking between three different Christian radio stations, or choosing a new book to read were all decisions that suddenly overwhelmed me. People sitting in one of the ten churches on the street unmoved, students sitting in classrooms oblivious to the privilege compelled me to plead, “Do you understand what you have been given?” Suddenly the country I grew up loving, took great effort to tolerate. My heart longed for the country where freedom was but a dream.

Now ten years later, I have settled back into the American life. Married to a wonderful man that provides for more than I need, have three lovely children who leave me worn out but loving life at the end of each day. We have a nice house, the kids attend a great school and I fill my spare time with church and community activities. Yet, I cannot read “made in China” and my heart not go there. And I still struggle over decisions knowing so many are unable to make any.

Kevin kept in contact long enough for me to know he achieved permission to go to a college in China, but he had not given up on his dream to study in America. I received a letter requesting help to come visit me when all communication unexpectedly stopped. Even after our correspondence ended, Kevin has remained in my prayers. Did the knowledge of the gospel ever drop from his mind and into his heart? Even with a government deciding the results of his physical life, they cannot determine his eternity. Will one day when I walk on a golden street, through the multitude will I see his waving hand? Over the “Hallelujah” of the angels will I hear, “Hello, Ms. Mindy”? I pray it is so while trusting that decision to the wisdom of the Father.