Archive for the ‘Featured Articles’ Category

In 1967 the story of a Dutch evangelist known as Brother Andrew was published. God’s Smuggler was a sensation and inspiration as it described how Bibles were taken behind the Iron Curtain in Brother Andrew’s Volkswagen. Of course, his remarkable story was just one story. Hundreds of men and women who never had a bestseller were also involved in smuggling Bibles and Christian literature. Most of them were not from the West but were Poles, Romanians, Lithuanians, Russians, and Ukrainians. They risked—and many lost—their freedom in order to print and smuggle Bibles to Christians desperately hungry for this Bread. Printing presses were cobbled together from parts of washing machines and bicycles. Quantities of paper and ink had to be secured. Every step in making a book had to be done secretly—printing, collating, folding, stitching, trimming. And that was before the Bibles were even given to the couriers. These brave men and women sometimes carried heavy loads of books on trains or buses, traveling hundreds of miles day and night, all while they watched and prayed and played a high-risk cat-and-mouse game with the KGB.

Today smuggling Bibles and Christian literature is no less important in countries where believers suffer persecution and where the Bible is a forbidden Book. While secret printing operations and courier work is still underway in places like Central Asia, smugglers now have another route to use—one that bypasses border guards and the secret police: It’s the internet! Digital storage has eliminated the bulk of books—a single flash drive can hold more Bible training materials than Brother Andrew could have put in his Volkswagen. Not only that, but the materials can be instantaneously “smuggled” to thousands of others. The internet erases the old barriers and has presented us with remarkable opportunities to create Virtual Bible Schools, penetrating some of the most difficult places from the teeming cities of China to the veiled lands of Islam.

by David Hosaflook

A mighty river flows through the Albanian Alps, fed by innumerable streams of melted snow. Over time, the streams assert their will upon the mountain, carving gorges into the faces like wrinkles on a patriarch. Trickle by trickle, the river takes form, rising, rumbling, rushing into three dams anchored in the Tropoja range of High Albania.

In these Tropoja mountains—physically harsh and spiritually hard—streams of living water are now flowing from melted hearts made white as snow, exerting their patient force upon this wilderness. Trickle by trickle, a river is rising against the ancient dams of animism, anarchy, and Islam.

I remember Tropoja when the mountains were still dry: no Christians, no churches, no chance for anyone to get a Drink. Then, in 1994, a young, leggy shepherd boy emerged from his village bright enough to attend high school in the big city of Shkodra—where I had been sent. We met, I preached, he objected, the Holy Spirit drew, and young Arben became the first splash upon the drought, the first fruit of a still-unfinished harvest, the first link in a chain of mouth-to-mouth evangelism.

“Come to Tropoja,” he said, “my family must hear the Gospel. Do you like mountains?” I was young and fit (at sea level), but Arben was a Sherpa! Seven hours into the trek, he reached the peak of Betoshë, looked down at me, and shouted, “Take heart! Almost there!” When I finally summited, wheezing like an emphysemic, he pointed out a dot below, allegedly his house. I squinted incredulously, discovering the relativity of the word “almost.” Now rested and dying to arrive home with the Good News, Arben sprang to his hooves and launched our downward zigzag. My quadriceps burned like lava, but every step paid off in the joy of watching Arben preach Christ to his family.

A week later, back in Shkodra, Arben brought his roommate Fredi to Jesus, then to my apartment. Fredi said, “My family must hear the Gospel too. Will you come to my village?” Unwittingly, I rubbed my thighs, asking “And where might your village be?”—another mountain to climb for Jesus. On that one, half the village received Christ (there were only two houses). Over a plate of sheep brains and pickled cabbage, we preached and Fredi’s older brother Astrit became the third link, receiving the Word with a twinkle of joy in his eye which has never gone out.

Like a lonely mountain flower, Astrit sank his roots into the Rock and bloomed color upon the crags. Two or three more joined, and Christ began building His Church. There are now two—one in Fierzë and another in Bajram-Curri, that mountain ‘metropolis’ branded by the US State Department as “exceedingly dangerous.” There new believers (and the Savior within them) are set upon smashing the gates of Hell.

Recently, I watched some of them get baptized in the icy Valbona River. With joy, they gave testimony of who had led them to Christ, and, all in one place, I traced a line of faithful witness, one-on-one, mouth-to-mouth—six spiritual generations including me, Astrit, Spartak, Gëzim, Jetmir, and Sabah. As they multiply, the mountains will become a garden for God instead of a citadel of Satan.

Tropoja has not yet had its Pentecost. Satan’s dams are still holding. But there is a rumble upstream.

4:30 every morning. In a city on the banks of the Nile River, the azaan, the Muslim Call to Prayer, blares into Pastor Jeremiah’s bedroom. The noise comes from five mosques bristling with loudspeakers, which purposely were built around his home. The Muslims despise the fact that there is a little church and Christian orphanage in their town because—well, just because men love darkness rather than light. When I first heard this surround-sound wake-up call, I nearly fell out of bed, but Brother Jeremiah is used to it. He told me cheerfully that he answers the Call to Prayer by getting up and praying—not to Allah, of course, but to the Lord. He prays for the needs of the orphans, for physical and spiritual protection, and for the Light to shine in that dark place.

In the last issue we looked at the growing persecution of Christians in our day. In our comfortable Christianity, we usually forget the reality of persecution in much of the world and the fact that more Christians died for their faith in the 20th century than in all previous centuries combined. This is a call to our churches to action—this is our call to prayer.

An unexpected knock interrupted the house church meeting. The believers inside, still grieving over the death of one of their leaders, had been on their knees into the night praying for the release from prison of another one of their pastors. A knock at the door in the dead of night—was it the police or just a stranger who had lost his way and saw a light in the window? “And as Peter knocked at the door of the gate, a damsel came to hearken, named Rhoda. When she knew Peter’s voice, she opened not the gate for gladness, but ran in, and told how Peter stood before the gate. And they said unto her, Thou art mad. But she constantly affirmed that it was even so. Then said they, It is his angel. But Peter continued knocking: and when they had opened the door, and saw him, they were astonished.” (Acts 12:13-16)

Isn’t it ironic that when the Lord delivered Peter out of prison that night that every door opened up before him—except the church door? This wonderful passage provides a kind of comic relief in the midst of Herod’s persecution. A prayer meeting interrupted by the very answer to those prayers, and if we are very honest with ourselves, these first-century Christians seem strangely familiar—like the 21st-century variety. We pray, yes; but we usually keep our expectations low so that we won’t be disappointed with the results—and we rarely are.

What does this have to do with our church’s response to the rise in Christian persecution in our day? It is interesting that one of the first recorded prayer meetings following Pentecost finds the church on their knees on behalf of a persecuted believer. Even though their faith was small, their God was not. Hebrews 13:3 commands us “to remember them that are in bonds, as bound with them; and them which suffer adversity, as being yourselves also in the body.”

The purpose of such praying is not just for deliverance for suffering Christians, but also for boldness (Acts 4:29; Ephesians 6:19-20) and for the further glory of Christ, something accomplished both by life and by death, from the pulpit and from the prison cell. For sometimes God’s purpose is accomplished through suffering. A courageous Christian journalist in Turkey once told me that if human rights organizations had been active in Joseph’s day, they would have sought his immediate release after being unjustly jailed; but God had a higher purpose than just delivering Joseph. Through the prison experience combined with God’s timing, He would not only deliver Joseph but also deliver nations.

Still though, we are to pray and to help and encourage persecuted believers, because as the writer of Hebrews explains, they and we are “also in the body.” All born-again believers worldwide are brothers and sisters through faith in Christ and are part of His Body. Just as the Lord identifies with His people in their suffering (Exodus 3:7; Acts 9:4,5), so we are to identify with them as well. If we truly embrace this truth, how can we remain indifferent to a family member’s pain?

Besides prayer, another way we can demonstrate our love and concern for our brothers and sisters in Christ is by writing to government officials. Writing can make a difference and is also good stewardship. As the apostle Paul used his Roman citizenship on several occasions to further the Gospel cause or to protect believers from persecution so we should use the privileges of our citizenship to further the Lord’s work and speak up for those in other lands who cannot speak for themselves. You can find helpful guidelines about how and what to write at HYPERLINK “http://www.frontlinemissions.info/action.php” www.frontlinemissions.info/action.php

Let me encourage you to set aside time in your church to pray for persecuted Christians—perhaps having a special Sunday for the Persecuted Church with a message in the morning and a prayer time in the evening. For more focus, some churches pray for a specific persecuted believer each month, dedicating time at their weekly prayer meeting. If there are specific or high-profile cases that would be helped by letters to officials, then organize your “troops” in a letter-writing campaign, following the guidelines. Remember, though, that most persecution goes unreported. CNN usually doesn’t cover it, and it won’t make headlines in Time or Newsweek. So prayer should also be directed on behalf of Christians in particular countries where persecution is the hottest.

I have the privilege of serving alongside Christians from China to central Asia to the Middle East and north Africa. I find that their suffering is often profound—but so is their faith. I will never forget one young man I met in Pakistan following a major attack by Muslims. Christian homes and churches had been looted and burned, men were beaten and some tortured, girls from Christian families were hidden in the fields at night for fear of rape. Here was this tall teenager—we will call him Wasim—who stayed with me that day. Christians there could be excused for retreating to the shadows while the ashes of their homes and churches hung in the air and the imams were screaming from the mosques for more blood; yet my young friend had found a picture of Christ in some old Sunday School material and had stuck it on the front pocket of his shirt. He wore his Saviour’s image like an ID badge. Was he afraid? Would a lamb among wolves be afraid? But live or die, Wasim with his quiet courage and no-nonsense faith would trust the Good Shepherd whose image he bore. Wasim and hundreds of thousands like him remind us of our 1st century heritage. Even though most of us are a comfortable distance from the frontlines, we can get into the fight by getting on our knees! Pray for grace. Pray for protection and peace. Pray for boldness in the Gospel so that Christ, Who first suffered for us, would be magnified in and through the suffering of His people. Will you pray?

“Go your ways: behold, I send you forth as lambs among wolves.” Luke 10:3

It was Saturday morning in late October. The sun was already burning off the morning mist over a grove of cocoa trees near the coast of Sulawesi in Indonesia. Four teenage girls were on a familiar path through the cocoa plantation—off to Saturday classes at their Christian school. 14-year-old Theresia, 16-year-old Noviana, and 15-year-olds Alfina and Ida wore their neat brown school uniforms, tugging along their book bags and chattering away. They were best friends; they did everything together—now they would die together. In a moment, in a swirling terror of black masks and slashing machetes, six men fell upon the girls. The few details known of the attack are from Noviana who escaped with deep machete wounds to her face. The other three girls were beheaded on the spot. Their Muslim attackers carried their heads away as trophies, tossing two of them at a police station and a third at the door of a church.

The motivation for these murders was not robbery or rape but simply that the girls were Christians. Only a half-hearted show was made at finding the killers, and just two days after the three Christian girls were beheaded, a Muslim police officer described the situation as “everything is normal.”

The men who did this are part of an Islamic terror group called Laskar Jihad or “Holy War Warriors.” Whether it is Laskar Jihad in Indonesia, the Taliban in Afghanistan, Islamic Jihad in Egypt, Iranian-backed Hezbollah in Lebanon, or the Islamic Courts in the Horn of Africa, their extremism has silenced saner Muslims and attracted others to their ranks. This virus of violence continues to spread, leaving Christians in those countries very vulnerable.

Consequently, outrageous hate is never far beneath the surface. For example, in Pakistan because of a financial dispute, a trumped-up charge of burning pages of the Koran was leveled at a Christian. This little spark of an incident, fanned by Muslim clerics, exploded into a mob scene in which as many as 3000 Muslims looted and burned five churches, a school, and numerous Christians’ homes. Unfortunately, this has been an oft-repeated scenario.

I happened to be in Pakistan three days after this particular attack. Smoke and ash still hung in the air. In my journal that night I wrote:

A full moon rises over the canefields around Sangla Hill, and in the twilight a minaret looks like a stake driven through the heart of this city. 300 Christian families live here, and not one of them feels safe tonight. My mind is swirling with all I’ve seen today—charred crosses, churches and homes gutted by fire, the cries of children and the pleas of their parents for someone to protect them. The only comfort any of us have found today has been from the Scripture. Standing outside the charred remains of the Salvation Army Church, a believer named Gulzar came up to me to talk. His broken English was mended by a winning smile and joyful countenance. Gulzar told me that two promises helped him face the fear—and then he began to quote from John 14, “Let not your heart be troubled . . . in my Father’s house are many mansions . . . I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive you unto myself: that where I am, there ye may be also.” And then my dear brother lifted my spirits and gave meaning to all I have witnessed today, “Be faithful unto death,” Gulzar said quoting our Lord, “and I will give thee a crown of life.”

The next day I looked into the face of persecution again. A pastor named Masih was lying outside the hospital on a concrete walkway. The pastor had protested to the police in his village after drunken Muslims had assaulted some women in his church. For that, a Muslim gang attacked him, kicking in his skull, severing his ear, and leaving him blind in one eye. The hospital had bandaged over his wounds and thrown him out. It seems that animals get better treatment than Christians do in Pakistan.

Well, not just in Pakistan. In Alexandria, Egypt one person died and 12 were wounded in knife attacks on 3 congregations during Easter services. In Afghanistan, Iran, and much of Arabia, death is the penalty for conversion from Islam to Christianity. Even in Muslim countries that don’t specify such a penalty, a law is not needed because family members carry out the killing on their own. Muslims are not the only persecutors, however. Radical Hindus in India have pushed through sweeping anti-conversion laws in a number of states and have matched them with muscle, assaulting pastors and burning churches. Burmese Buddhists are burning down Christian villages, sowing their fields with landmines, and pulling up crosses out of Christian cemeteries. Under brutal dictatorships in central Asia house church leaders are being arrested and beaten. In Turkmenistan, Christians have even been tortured for possessing a copy of the “Jesus” film.

The list could go on and on, for as Lord David Alton has observed, “Of the world’s six billion people today, over half live in countries where being a Christian could cost you your life.” In our comfort, freedom, and opportunity, we should remember “the other half” of our Christian family. In the next issue we will consider just what action pastors and churches can take on behalf of persecuted believers.

For Christians in many lands, life is caught somewhere between faith and fear. It brings to mind one of the Gospel’s great missionary passages when the Lord Jesus told the 70 that He was sending them out as “lambs among wolves.” How could He do such a thing—sending His people unarmed into the jaws of death? He could because He did. From Gethsemane to Golgotha the Lamb not only walked among wolves, but even “gave Himself a ransom for all.” And as Christ explained in Matthew 10:24, “The disciple is not above his master; nor the servant above his Lord. It is enough for the disciple that he be as his master.” For these Christians who live among wolves, they bring Light to dark places by their lives—and sometimes by their deaths—and they find comfort in His company.

“I will build my church; and the gates of hell shall not prevail against it.” (Matthew 16:18)

A century ago in a work called The Glory of the Impossible, Samuel Zwemer, the leading voice for missions to the unreached Islamic world, wrote of Afghanistan.

Listen to the story of the conversion and martyrdom of Abdul Karim, the Afghan convert: With a real devotion to Christ, he was taken with the intense desire, in the summer of 1907 to enter Afghanistan and preach the Gospel. Crossing the frontier at Chaman, he was seized by Afghan soldiers, brought before the Governor of Kandahar, offered rewards and honors if he would recant, and when he refused, was cast into prison, loaded with chains. He was examined by the Amir, but remained firm in his confession. Then he was marched off for Kabul in chains, with a bit and bridle in his mouth, while every Mohammedan who met him smote him on the cheeks and abused him. Finally, when he was set at liberty, he tried to find his way back to India, was seized by the people in a village, carried to their mosque, and ordered to repeat the Moslem creed. Abdul Karim refused. “A sword was then produced and his right arm cut off, and he was again order to repeat it, but again refused. The left arm was then severed in the same way, and on his refusing the third time, his throat was cut. There is no doubt that whatever the details of his martyrdom may be, Abdul Karim witnessed faithfully to the last for the Saviour Christ, and died because he would not deny Him. There are many secret disciples in Afghanistan who honor Christ as we do, and there is no doubt that at the present time a public acknowledgement of Christianity would mean a cruel death. At the same time, I believe that the Church in Afghanistan will not be established until their have been many such martyrs, who will seal their faith with their blood.”

A century later Afghanistan remains one of the most intractable pieces of the 10/40 puzzle. The latest wave of evangelism has followed the US and NATO fight to free the country of the control of the Taliban and its Al-Qaeda clients, some of whom carried out the September 11th attacks on the US. NATO forces have encountered bitter winters, blistering summers, harsh terrain laced with a patchwork of tribes that are at once divided and united by ancient hatreds. Our troops fight a borderless war with an elusive enemy over a long campaign. Their courage and sacrifice are exemplary, and many have laid down their lives in the cause of freedom. All of this, too, can be said for the first-wave forces of Christians serving in Afghanistan. Their long campaign has also been marked by struggle, suffering, and untimely graves. Yet there have also been victories. Did He not promise this? For Christ said that not even the gates of hell—not even the gates of Islam—would be able to withstand the advance of His Kingdom! The Kingdom outposts are small and scattered and born into the fellowship of His sufferings. Like the six Afghan men I know who meet on a different day and at a different time each week to avoid detection. Or the woman who received a New Testament and after two years invited the missionary to her home and introduced the family members who had received Christ. Holding up the Book, she said, “This is the Truth we have been seeking for years.” There are yet others, even among the Taliban, who need to hear that Christ died for them. So the Kingdom campaign continues.

Any army that’s effective must adapt to the terrain, and so it is in missions. Outreach in a country like Afghanistan cannot be done with traditional missions strategies. Healthcare, literacy, and community development teams will spearhead the work to create opportunities for building relationships and sharing Christ. Will you pray for us and support us as we penetrate one of the last frontiers of the Gospel?

There is a spot near the Temple of Heaven in Beijing, a little marble circle that marks what the ancient Chinese believed to be the very center of the universe. Today this cosmic bulls-eye is just a place for grinning tourists to stand and have their picture taken. However, many ancient peoples had similar beliefs about their realm being at the center of things. Why else, for example, would one say, “All roads lead to Rome”? While it is an interesting idea that the center of the universe is located in Beijing or Rome, I am not convinced. In fact, I think the chair I am sitting in writing this article may just as likely be the true center of the universe! Seriously though, when it comes to missions, I am afraid that for too long, many of us here in America have behaved as if we were at the center of the universe.

In olden days, designating a particular place as the center of the universe was easy because to many ancients, their world was flat and relatively small. After a whole “new world” was discovered, though, little maps grew into great globes, and centers were more difficult to designate. Similarly, in the missions realm, the world is very different from the one that William Carey, Adoniram Judson, and Hudson Taylor lived in. They and other missionary trailblazers inspired their generation to answer the Great Call. In the 19th and 20th centuries, missionary ranks were filled mostly by those from the English-speaking world: British, American, and Canadian. As they crossed continents and cultures with the Gospel, though, things changed. People of every nation, tongue, and tribe were saved through faith in Christ. Churches sprang up, and Christians in many lands began sharing the Gospel with their own countrymen. In the 20th century, political boundaries grew dramatically (there were 55 independent countries in 1900 and 192 countries by the end of the century) and so also grew the political barriers to western missionaries. Yet, not surprisingly, the advance of the Gospel was unhindered. In the past quarter century, tremendous growth in churches has taken place in parts of Latin America, Africa, and Asia. Of course, the largest growth has been in China in the past twenty years through the house church movement. Today there are tens of millions of believers that God brought to Himself largely apart from any western influence. While in the West we could pray for China but not go, behind the Bamboo Curtain the Lord was doing a marvelous work through the Chinese themselves—surpassing in scope and fervency all work previously done in China and producing a truly indigenous Church.

Missionary ranks are, therefore, much more diverse than in the past. In many countries indigenous churches are not only firmly planted but some, such as Korea, Singapore, the Philippines, and Ukraine (to name a few), are also sending out missionaries to other countries. Of course, the United States continues to be a driving force in missions today, but others are driving, too, and those who are too poor are riding bicycles or walking—but all are answering our Lord’s order “go ye.”

And so the center of the missions world has shifted a bit. How should American missionaries, mission boards, and the pastors and churches who support them, relate to Christian workers in other countries given the differences between us? It should be a relationship that is not based on our money or our expertise, but one that is characterized by respect and humility. Our approach must be culturally-sensitive and our attitude Biblically-balanced.

Naturally, “Go ye into all the world and make disciples” means that missions involves working with other people. Often they will be Christians who are very different from us with strange names who speak in strange tongues and eat strange food. We usually refer to such people as “nationals,” but really they are just people. When we talk about working with nationals—that is, Christians from other cultures—there may be suspicions, concerns over accountability, and differences over methods and practice. Such responses actually go back to the earliest days of the Church. As Acts unfolds, the “original” Christians (Jewish believers who thought Jerusalem was the center of the universe) grew concerned about the Gentile Christians. Some wanted to impose their Mosaic culture on these Greek and barbarian converts. The controversy which Acts 15:2 describes as “no small dissension and disputation” was so great that Paul and Barnabas had to come off the field and go to Jerusalem to explain the situation. Peter and the other leaders at Jerusalem wisely saw that the Gospel was about Christ and not culture. Rather than impose Jewish legal strictures on these non-Jewish believers, they simply outlined a few simple requirements for Gentile believers for the purpose of purity and unity in the Body of Christ. Then Paul and Barnabas got back to work!

This was not an isolated incident. “Cultural clashes” between Christians in the early Church are recorded throughout Acts. In fact, Paul wrote Galatians in order to deal with the issue in the strongest possible terms. Yet misunderstandings among Christians of different backgrounds and the desire to impose cultural preferences along with the Gospel work is just as real in the 21st century as it was in the 1st.

Every church has its own culture that it cherishes—one shaped by tradition and the handprints that mold a ministry over time. Culture provides a level of unity within a congregation that is important. It is only when a particular culture is elevated to be the biblical standard for all Christians and therefore should be imposed on others that the culture is out of bounds. Just imagine how most of us would respond if a Christian of the Krung tribe in southeast Asia told us to leave our shoes and pews outside the church building. We would probably politely tell him to go home! That example is really not much different than when Western missionaries insist on suits and ties or learning English in order to read the King James Bible. Planting an American-style church in foreign soil usually lasts only as long as the missionary and his money. Such church plants, if they survive, are often fragile and fruitless.

The apostle Paul had a different approach. In I Corinthians 9:20, he said, “Unto the Jews I became as a Jew, that I might gain the Jews; to them that are under the law as under the law, that I might gain them that are under the law; to them that are without the law, as without law. . . that I might gain them that are without law. To the weak became I as weak that I might gain the weak: I am made all things to all men that I might by all means save some. And this I do for the Gospel’s sake.” And so in the pattern of Paul, in Egypt I must never cross my legs while seated before the congregation; while among the hill tribes of Cambodia, I sit cross-legged on the floor while preaching. When I worship with Christians in Pakistan, we clap as we sing, keeping time with a tabla drum. Despite grenade bombings of their churches by Muslim fanatics, their songs and faces are filled with joy and not dread. When I pray with my Christian brothers and sisters in Central Asia, we hold our hands open. Using a tabla with singing or lifting up our hands in prayer is part of their worship culture—just as using a piano, sitting in pews, and mixing men and women together in church is part of our culture in the West. Within Biblical bounds, no worship culture is better than another—they are just different. These are refreshing reminders that the Gospel is for all people in all places.

Working with national pastors, evangelists, and others in the ministry is fruitful and effective. These Christian workers don’t have to learn a new language, adapt to the nuances of a new culture, or spend years on deputation. It is a privilege to come along side them in “joint ventures” starting Bible schools, planting churches, developing radio broadcasts, publishing Gospel literature, and laying strategies together for the further advance of the Gospel.

It is often the case that Americans may have more formal Bible education than Christian workers in other lands; so we may be called on to help provide Bible training to such men and women. But we must never confuse a seminary degree with superiority. Yes, as a minister of the Gospel we should be “apt to teach,” but we should also be “apt to learn” as well. Over the years I have learned so much about prayer, faith, and the power of the Gospel from Christians who were barely literate. They have no credentials, but they have Christ and much to teach us about Him in often profound and practical ways. Therefore, sometimes we teach—and sometimes we are taught. We are not “the boss”; we are just fellow slaves serving the real Boss.

Amos’s question, “Can two walk together except they be agreed?” answers itself. Clearly two walking together don’t have to agree on everything. They just have to agree to walk together—to go in the same direction. When working with nationals there must be no compromise of the Gospel, but if there is agreement on direction, on the fundamentals, on majoring on the majors and keeping the minors in their place, the relationship will grow into a partnership and then a friendship. President Reagan used to have a plaque on his desk that read, “There is no limit to what can be accomplished so long as no one cares who gets the credit.” When it comes to missions and partnering with nationals, the same is true, except it must be modified—“so long as Christ gets the credit.”

Not long ago a friend and I visited Washington’s Crossing, Pennsylvania.  That day the Delaware River was a perfect mirror reflecting a crisp blue and white sky—the silver glass waters rippled only by lolling, lazy geese shaking off a nap as we slipped down to the river’s edge.  There, giant sycamores shade the bank where stands an old stone marker which reads:

Near this spot Washington

Crossed the Delaware

On Christmas night 1776

The eve of the Battle of Trenton

There could hardly have been a more striking contrast between that peaceful afternoon and the desperate, dangerous night when Washington risked everything.

Crossing the Delaware was a bold turn at the end of a long retreat.  The fall of ’76 had been a season of setbacks.  Outnumbered and outgunned, many of his soldiers had little to show for their service but their gaunt frames and a knack for digging graves.  At the end of the year, just days away, their enlistments would expire, and in all of the war there was hardly a more close and critical time, as the destiny of a nation wavered on the edge of a knife.  For Washington, the greatest risk was not taking one; so on Christmas Day, in the teeth of a storm, he crossed the river here and captured an enemy that was celebrating too soon—and thus turned the tide in the fight for freedom.  There would be yet five more years of war, but this was the day that defined Washington and our Nation.  

One of Washington’s generals, Nathanael Greene, would remark on their uneven path to victory, “We fight, get beat, rise, and fight again.”  I have often thought of Greene’s words in the spiritual warfare in which we are engaged as a mission—the effort to take the Gospel to the least-reached areas.  It should not surprise us that the difficult places are, well, difficult—and that for Christians in many parts of the world, suffering is as much a part of their faith as comfort is a part of ours.  Despite attacks and setbacks, by God’s grace, He gives them the strength to “rise, and fight again.”

That is what Paul did.  Acts 14 tells us that he was stoned and left for dead outside the city of Lystra, but amazingly Paul got up—and then just as surprising, he went back into the city and finished his sermon!  That spirit lives on in many of our friends on the frontlines.

A young pastor in Pakistan named Sam Masih.  When I first met him, he had been brutally attacked by a Muslim mob who tried to beat him to death and left him with a crushed skull, a severed ear, blind in one eye, and a paralyzed right arm.  Even on that day when we prayed and wept together while he laid bruised and broken, he wanted to stand up.

Not long ago, a friend of mine was back in Pakistan and met our dear pastor.  Despite the loss of an eye and the use of an arm, he is not only standing but serving and shining for Christ.  I wept for joy to see his face again.

I am including here an excerpt from Samuel Zwemer’s book The Unoccupied Mission Fields, published in 1911.  Zwemer was the “apostle to Arabia,” a pioneer missionary who poured his life—and buried two of his children—in the hostile lands of Islam.  These are words worth reading—and reading again:

The challenge of the unoccupied fields of the world is one to great faith and, therefore, to great sacrifice.  Our willingness to sacrifice for an enterprise is always in proportion to our faith in that enterprise.  Faith has the genius of transforming the barely possible into actuality.  Once men are dominated by the conviction that a thing must be done, they will stop at nothing until it is accomplished.  We have our “marching orders,” and because our Commander-in-Chief is not absent but with us, the impossible becomes not only practical but imperative.  Charles Spurgeon, preaching from the text, “All power is given unto Me. . . . Lo I am with you always,” used these words: “You have a factor here that is absolutely infinite, and what does it matter as to what other factors may be.  ‘I will do as much as I can,’ says one.  Any fool can do that.  He that believes in Christ does what he can not do, attempts the impossible and performs it.”

Frequent set-backs and apparent failure never dishearten the real pioneer.  Occasional martyrdoms are only a fresh incentive.  Opposition is a stimulus to greater activity.  Great victory has never been possible without great sacrifice.  Does it really matter how many die or how much money we spend in opening closed doors, and in occupying the different fields, if we really believe that missions are warfare and that the King’s glory is at stake?  War always means blood and treasure.  Our only concern should be to keep the fight aggressive and to win victory regardless of cost or sacrifice.  The unoccupied fields of the world must have their Calvary before they can have their Pentecost.

For Christians with folded hands and routine religion, his words may seem as out-of-date as the book itself, yet may they once again call out to men and women of our generation who would take risks for Christ’s sake, who would take up their cross and follow Him because they love Him more than themselves.

It is a call that we, along with our co-workers in China, India, central Asia, the Middle East, and the former Soviet Union, desire to pursue with all our strength in the coming year.  And we thank our Captain that many of you are in the ranks with us, supporting the Cause through the setbacks and celebrations of this long, costly Campaign that began at Calvary and that will end in complete Victory!