Tortured for Christ

There are some books that ought to be a regular read and re-read for Christians - especially for those in the holy ministry or in the lay leadership of the church.  I just finished reading Tortured for Christ by Richard Wurmbrand, and I believe this 1967 classic is in this category.

The book is a short read, and introduces the reader to a phenomenon known as the Underground Church as it existed behind the Iron Curtain in Russia and in Eastern Europe from about the second world war to the 1960s.  The story is told eloquently and passionately by the Rev. Richard Wurmbrand, a Romanian Lutheran pastor who was arrested twice, spent a total of 14 years in Communist prisons, three of which were in solitary confinement, including a couple years in "the death room."  He was tortured and beaten, although he does not wallow in this fact nor provide gratuitous details of his agonies.  His heroic wife Sabina was also a leader of the Christian resistance and was also imprisoned and tortured.

Five years into a 25-year prison sentence (his second imprisonment for preaching the Gospel), Pastor Wurmbrand and his family were ransomed out of the Iron Curtain by Scandinavian Lutherans for a sum of $10,000.  He was called upon to put the word out in the west about the Communist oppression, especially of imprisoned Christians.  Tortured for Christ was the first installment of that vocation.

One might be tempted to see the book as dated or obsolete because of the fall of the Iron Curtain.  And that assumption would be wrong.  For Christianity always labors under the cross - whether in repressed Islamic regimes, in civil-war torn African villages, in still-Communist China, or even in materially comfortable North American suburbs or "enlightened" European democracies.  As long as the church militant endures and proclaims the Gospel, she will be oppressed and persecuted.

Wurmbrand teaches us how to live in such conditions, how to love as Christ loves, how to be resourceful and faithful, and how to remain steadfast even in the face of torture and death.

The book is not dour or depressing - far from it.  It offers hope and joy even in terrible conditions.  In these pages, the love and light of Christ shines forth in the darkness of Atheism, Communism, and materialism.  Again and again, Wurmbrand testifies to conversions even among the secret police and Communist officials - who were as victimized as the Christians in the slave labor camps.  It is one of those books that puts things into perspective - especially for us in the United States, where we spend far too much time complaining about trivialities and not enough time rejoicing in what we have and sharing with those who do not.

And although the Iron Curtain has fallen and Communism has failed in Eastern Europe and Russia, the people in those regions continue to struggle with the resulting social, economic, political, and even spiritual devastation of that evil system of government: poverty, alcoholism, biblical illiteracy, struggling churches, a dearth of Bibles and educational resources, a continued culture of hopelessness and death, and lingering attitudes of hatred toward the church.

And yet, even from the ruins, the Church rises just as green shoots appear from the frozen ground every spring.  The grandchildren of those condemned to Siberia are now condemning sin, death, and the devil by joining together as the Body of Christ in the most extraordinary conditions imaginable.  Like the Roman Empire before it, the Soviet Empire has not only been endured, but actually defeated, by the Christian Church.  And though the USSR can claim "victory" over the millions of people it wiped out, the USSR is today dead and buried in shame, while those who have been redeemed by Christ - those "saints who from their labors rest" - are the living ones singing the praise of the Lamb on His throne.

Wurmbrand's book provides a helpful backdrop to the trials and travails of our brothers and sisters in Christ who are even today picking up the broken pieces in the wake of Communism's fall, and who are advancing the Gospel selflessly and courageously in the open even as Wurmbrand and his Underground Church did in secret a generation ago.

For more information, please see Voice of the Martyrs, the organization founded by Pastor Wurmbrand (and where you can also receive a free copy of Tortured for Christ).  Please also check out the Siberian Lutheran Mission Society, who is providing much-needed support to those who are advancing the Gospel in Siberia.  You can also find footage of Pastor Wurmbrand on YouTube, where you can also find this extraordinary short film chronicling the truly miraculous work of the Siberian Evangelical Lutheran Church.

And please keep our brothers and sisters around the world in your prayers!

Richard Wurmbrand Movie

This past Saturday, I mentioned Rev. Richard Wurmbrand, the heroic Lutheran pastor who spent 14 years in solitary confinement in Communist Romania and who went on to found Voice of the Martyrs, an organization that calls attention to the ongoing persecution of the Church (and here is also the link to a 1966 TV interview with Pastor Wurmbrand that is gripping and disturbing, but also inspiring.

Amazingly, there is now a 30 minute cartoon movie telling his story. It is part of the Torchlighters series. I have not seen the film, but it is now available at Netflix and in my queue.

The clip above captures the turning point in the life of Pastor Wurmbrand, when, spurred to action by his courageous and faithful wife, he made a shocking speech denouncing the Communists on live radio while many other Christian clergymen were singing the praises of the government. The dialogue in the cartoon and the description of the scene accurately retells the story according to Wurmbrand's own account in Tortured for Christ (which is being given away free here).

This one act of speaking truth to power bought for Richard and his wife Sabina a lifetime of persecution for the faith.

Let us pray with St. John in Rev 6:9-11:

"When he opened the fifth seal, I saw under the altar the souls of those who had been slain for the word of God and for the witness they had borne. They cried out with a loud voice, 'O Sovereign Lord, holy and true, how long before you will judge and avenge our blood on those who dwell on the earth?' Then they were each given a white robe and told to rest a little longer, until the number of their fellow servants and their brothers should be complete, who were to be killed as they themselves had been."

Lord, have mercy. Come, Lord Jesus.

Heroic Sisters in Christ

In my previous post about The Rev. Richard Wurmbrand, I mentioned that many of his books are available in the Kindle format for a dollar.  Similarly, his wife Sabina's autobiographical work The Pastor's Wife is likewise available for a buck.  It is also intriguing reading, especially after reading Richard's autobiographical accounts (Tortured for Christ and In God's Underground) - both also available for a dollar.

Obviously, their stories intertwine when they are together, and they diverge for the many years they were cruelly separated by their Communist captors. I began Mrs. Wurmbrand's book (I am currently 32% done), and it is fascinating, terrifying, enraging, saddening, and yet ultimately a triumph for the Gospel.  It is not maudlin, nor does Mrs. Wurmbrand either dwell on, nor minimize, the painful and cruel aspects of her incarceration.  She emphasizes the work and fellowship of Christians in the prisons and their work in confessing Christ - and she does so with grace, courage, quiet faith, and even humor.

One anecdote concerns a group of nuns Mrs. Wurmbrand befriended in Christian sisterhood and worship.  Nuns don't always get good press these days, and nearly every alum of Roman Catholic grade schools has anecdotes about screaming sisters wielding rulers and just generally being ugly.  Maybe these tales are completely true, maybe they are embellished, and maybe it's just the bad that stands in most people's memories.  I would imagine as is the case with most Christian charity, true good works are largely unseen.  Regardless of the impression most people have of nuns, one can't help admire the pluck of Mrs. Wurmbrand's friends under fire in her own words...

There were two Catholic sisters who glowed with calm goodness.  Uncomplaining, they looked after the older women.  They washed sore bodies.  They sang hymns.  They brought comfort where none was looked for.

"But are you allowed to sing?" I asked at our first meeting.

"We are allowed to sing, and they are allowed to beat us," Sister Veronica replied.

Sister Sophia, the younger of the two, showed livid bruises on her arms and neck.

I highly recommend Mrs. Wurmbrand's inspiring book, and if you can read books on a Kindle or Kindle reader, what a great opportunity to snag a whole suite of books written by Richard and Sabina for a dollar each!

Christian persecution and prayer

Tuesday's prayer in the Treasury of Daily Prayer calls upon Christians to pray for their persecuted brethren around the world. Here in America, we are comfortable, if not exceedingly wealthy, as compared to the rest of the world. We are free to attend church on Sunday, or sleep in or do something else. No-one will round us up and put us in torturous dungeons for simply gathering for prayer, scripture, and the celebration of the Most Holy Eucharist.

But this is not the case in many places.  Just meeting with other Christians is an ordeal, and people will risk their freedom and even their lives just to gather with a few other Christians in secret, even if only for a few moments, to hear the precious Word of God, and if they are fortunate, to receive the Holy Sacrament from the hands of a pastor - dodging nosy neighbors and police investigators who dog their coming and going.

There are still places where Christians languish away in dungeons for doing nothing other than believing in Christ with their hearts and confessing him with their lips (Romans 10:9).

And even where Communism has been mercifully overthrown, people still bear the scars of its cruelty, and churches continue to struggle amid the social and economic ruins created by atheistic collectivist ideology that "a rat is a pig is a dog is a boy."  The idea that human beings are created in God's image and have worth and value and that Jesus died to liberate all mankind from the prison of sin are still dangerous and revolutionary ideas in much of the world.

The Rev. Richard Wurmbrand and his wife Sabina, upon being liberated from prison, fled to the west and started the organization Voice of the Martyrs. The Wurmbrands' books are still available - including Richard's Tortured for Christ (which is available for free) and Sabina's The Pastor's Wife.  The Wurmbrand's story is told in cartoon form for young people in The Richard Wurmbrand Story.  You can see the trailer here.

The Treasury's Tuesday prayer (page 1307) reminds us to use our greatest weapon: prayer against the crafts and assaults of the devil who mercilessly attacks our brothers and sisters around the world.  Let us not be complacent and insulated from them, nor from our Lord who was also tortured for our sakes!

Almighty God, heavenly Father; we praise Your fathomless mercy, with which You take pity on sinful men.  All the prophets and apostles preach this to us in Your Holy Word.

Let our hope not be put to shame when we pray to You for all who suffer at this time.  For behold, the evil foe has become mighty, and the great ones of this world rule often with unrighteousness.  O God, who in former times caused Your saints to overcome injustice, strengthen also today all who stand in need of Your help.  Grant that all prisoners of war - held as slaves and sacrifices of earthly wrath - may return to their home.  Stand by all refugees and homeless people, and be their justice.  Be a father to the widows and orphans with Your strong protection.

Go through bars and fences to those who are imprisoned for the sake of Your name; strengthen them for a good witness, and let them not waver in the confession of Your name.  Teach us through their example, and the example of so many holy martyrs, to be ever watchful of the confession of Your Son's name.  Let us not be put to shame when the evil foe lays his hand on us.  But if it is Your will that we be persecuted for confessing Jesus as our Lord and only Savior, then support us in Your grace that we may withstand all trials, and grant us peaceful rest; through Jesus Christ, Your Son, our Lord, who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and forever.  Amen. 

Persecution, 21st Century American style

Here is a worthwhile and thoughtful post from Robin at Imperial Twilight about how persecution against the Church really begins - as opposed to the cartoonish impressions of pop Christianity.

His article quotes a heroic confessor of the faith, the Rev. Richard Wurmbrand, a Lutheran pastor who lived and served behind the Iron Curtain in Romania. Pastor Wurmbrand spent fourteen years in solitary confinement in a Communist prison. He is the author of Tortured for Christ and a founder of Voice of the Martyrs, an international organization that addresses the ongoing persecution of Christians around the world.

And here is remarkable footage of Pastor Wurmbrand himself. This is not to be missed!

Obviously, we are nowhere near the kinds of persecution in the United States as Pastor Wurmbrand experienced in Romania - but we would be foolish to think it could never happen here. Our Lord implored us to be wise as serpents even as we are to be innocent as doves. If (and when) Christians are again deemed "enemies of the state," we can well expect "enhanced interrogation techniques" to be used on us, just as they were used on Wurmbrand and his compatriots. Of course, this is one of the many evils of moral relativism - allowing government to run amok against one group empowers it to turn and bite any other group that falls from its favor.

Traditionalist Christians especially can expect increasing hostility in our society - as we continue to hold the increasingly unpopular biblical view of matters such as homosexuality, abortion, creation, sin, the inerrancy of Scripture, the roles of men and women, and the exclusivity of the Christian faith. Confessing Christ provokes seething hatred among unbelievers - the kind of raw inhumanity that fueled the Communists and the Nazis.

I do believe we will see an increase of this kind of initially-non-violent bureaucratic harassment by government over and against the Church. Of course, when we refuse to comply, we can indeed expect to be compelled by force. Moreover, I believe that not only Christians, but all Americans would do well to heed this law professor's advice when it comes to making statements to the police. Even St. Paul did not hesitate to invoke his legal rights for the sake of his continued preaching of the gospel.

Let us continue to pray for Christians anywhere and everywhere who are being impeded by government force. Once the monster is let out of its box, no-one is safe, and there are no self-restraints on the wrath of government - especially one convinced of its inherent goodness and manifest destiny ("We will bury you!").

Communism always starts with Socialism, and Socialism is always sold to the people as benign salutary change that promises an economy that can deliver something for nothing and a paradise without God.

Sufferology and the Christian Life

The Voice of the Martyrs is an organization that serves the persecuted church around the world in more than 50 countries.  It was founded by a Lutheran pastor, the Rev. Richard Wurmbrand (1909-2001) of Romania, who spent 14 years in Communist prisons. Pastor Wurmbrand was a prolific author, and (good news), a lot of his books are available for Kindle (or any Kindle reader, including a rooted Nook Color) for a dollar!

The full-color monthly newsletter of The Voice of the Martyrs is available free of charge by simply e-mailing VOM at the voice@vom-usa.org.  This month's issue (June 2011) focuses on Christian persecutions in India.  The current issue contains an excerpt from Wurmbrand's devotional Reaching Toward the Heights from page 320:

Sufferology

"Many... will betray one another." ~ Matt 24:10

One of the darkest features of the Chinese church under communism has been the denunciation movement, when friends and members of the same family were turned against each other in betrayal and hate, everyone seeking only to save his or her own skin.  A "Christian" conference in 1951, attended by 152 Protestant leaders, asked the death penalty for the Methodist Bishop Chen and the Evangelist Ku-Jen-en.  The Communist Party was more gracious than the brethren.  They gave the bishop only five years of prison.  No one heard anymore from Ku.  He probably died in some jail.

The Christian pastor Lu Chih-Wei was attacked in a public meeting by his own daughter: "I now accuse my father, for the way in which he has blinded me, causing me to lose my standing with the people."  The father wept.  She continued. "Do you think that your false tears are able to bribe my conscience?"  

Good Christians, thousands of them, could be induced vehemently to denounce their beloved ones.  Brother Sun, editor of the Christian Farmer was subjected to such mental pressure that he committed suicide.  Only a few resisted, among them Watchman Nee and Wang-Min-Tao.

Your not becoming a traitor and your resistance in times of intensive trial depends on your earlier Christian life.  When, after the conversion of Saul of Tarsus, the Lord appeared to Ananias, He told him how to teach a new convert: "I will show him how many things he must suffer for My Name's sake" (Acts 9:16).

Every Christian church that does not teach its members the main religious science, sufferology, does not fulfill its duties.  Impose upon yourself mortification.  Learn to suffer and not to yield.  The time may come when you will need this knowledge.

This is the Theology of the Cross.  This is the reality that many of the world's Christians live in day in and day out.  Reading VOM is a real eye-opener about what being a follower of Jesus Christ is in much of the world.  Our brothers and sisters need our prayers and our support, and we need to be careful about taking our liberties for granted.  The Christian faith has always been a martyriological faith.

My Siberian Adventure - Day 1 - June 27, 2011

Begin: Gretna, Louisiana (home)
Drive to: Kenner, Louisiana (Louis Armstrong Airport)
Fly to: Washington, DC (Dulles)
Drive to: Leesburg, Virginia (Landsdowne Resort)

After weeks of preparation and after a few days of final arrangements, the Big Day is finally here.  I'm on the head-end of a 24-day trip halfway around the world.  I love to travel, and this is going to be the biggest and farthest adventure so far in my 47 years.

And I wake up miserable.

I am looking at more than three weeks of separation from my wife Grace and son Leo - and that is the best-case scenario - as anything can happen in this fallen world.

My mind races feverishly to come up with a way out, some excuse as to why I can't go.  Maybe I will be sick.  Maybe I will discover an erroneous date on my visa.  Something.  Anything. Of course, my rationality wins the debate with my premature homesickness, and I face the reality that I am leaving.  All is in God's hands. 

While heading out the door, the phone rings.  There is turmoil in the parish.  I spend the ride to the airport on the phone with a parishioner.  Grace and Leo accompany me into the airport and we run into another parishioner, Heather, who is an ICE agent on her way to Washington, DC for a conference.  We are scheduled to be on the same flight. 

I get my boarding pass and hang out for a few last minutes with Grace and Leo.  We take some pictures.  We say "goodbye" and I go to security.  This time (unlike my last airline experience), it is uneventful.  No being placed into the porno-scanner line, no opt-out, no groping.  I meet up with Heather (whose government status puts her in a different security category) at the gate.  Our flight is on time.  This is good, because I have a very tight connection in Washington.  And if I miss that flight, I miss my rendezvous with Pastor Dan Johnson - which means I would arrive in Moscow a day after he has already left, which means I would be on my own not only in Moscow, but in navigating an itinerary change on Siberian (S7) Airlines, which means all of our planning so that I would have help in Moscow would be out the window.  So, "on time" is good.  Very good.

Heather and I have time to grab lunch.  As I walk by the board, it is now showing out flight status as "delayed."  Great.  Nevertheless, I take the opportunity for one last po-boy and eat lunch with Heather.  Upon returning to the gate, we find that the delay is significant.  I call to find that it will be about two hours.  That's not good.  And (of course) of all the flights, this one is the only one that is delayed.

It has always been my luck at airports.  If I have a gate change, it will be the very maximum distance.  If there is one flight that has mechanical problems, it will be mine.  I am the Odysseus of air travel, and Neptune has, since the time of the Wright Brothers, apparently, become some kind of air demon in dire need of an attitude adjustment.  So, I'm annoyed but not surprised.  It's the same feeling as when I'm just about done with my sermon and the computer crashes. 

I made a bunch of calls to Dan, to United, and tried to contact S7 airlines in Russia.  There is an alternative flight through Frankfurt that could connect to Lufthansa and get me to Moscow.  Dan said: "Don't worry.  We have people in Moscow who can get you out of trouble."  That strikes me as sounding like a line from a Warren Zevon song.

I connect with S7 a couple times via computer, but the line is awful and on one occasion, they can't find anyone who speaks English.  Their hold music is the 1970s instrumental piece called Popcorn.  I did not get my internal travel within Russia resolved, but it did become apparent that my best bet was to get to Washington and hope for the best once there.  So now, our flight to Washington is boarding - a couple hours late - thanks to a (wait for it): "mechanical problem."

I'm seated next to a young couple with a baby - which I would have considered part of the Neptunic Curse in the days before becoming a father myself.  The couple are headed home from the ALA conference in New Orleans.  They live in West Virginia.  We know the same bookstore/coffeeshop in Charleston.  The husband works for a software company that pioneered library computerization.  Their little boy is bright-eyed, smiling, and reading a fabric book.  He reminds me of another little boy who was like that just a few years ago.

We still have not yet taken off.  There is a long line.  We're on an Airbus A320.

Finally, we begin to taxi, and I begin my traditional nap.  I woke to order a ginger ale and share the trail-mix Miss Grace packed for me (great idea, Mrs. H!) with my neighbors (this flight offers no food at all).  There is no wi-fi and no cell service - so I have no way to try to work out my potential problem with S7.

Since I'll be preaching on the Prodigal Son text in Novosibirsk, I decide to work on my sermon.  I read the text in English and Greek on my Nook.  Afterwards, I decide to continue reading the Rev. Richard Wurmbrand's book Alone With God, a collection of "sermons" he preached while in solitary confinement in Romania (by the way, all of Wurmbrand's works are available in Kindle format for a dollar each).  Interestingly, I am on a "sermon" called "Visiting Myself" which is about the Prodigal Son.  Wurmbrand writes: "Men travel the world over to visit other cultures and meet new people but never knock at the gate of their own person...."  Is this the divine sense of humor?

Some of Wurmbrand's reflections provide fodder for my own preaching.  Could Wurmbrand have imagined that as he was "preaching" in a dungeon into which he was placed by Communists that half a century later, a preacher not yet born would be traveling to Siberia to preach on this same text, and would read Wurmbrand's very words as a sermon preparation after the fall of the same totalitarian system in Russia that put him in prison for 14 years? 

Finally, we make our descent into DC.  For me to make my connection and get to Moscow, I need a miracle - perhaps a delayed flight to Moscow.  About 50 of us are displaced and sent to Customer Service at Dulles Airport.  This is not the miracle I hoped for.  A middle-aged woman barks at us to "stay in line."  The two German speaking guys behind me are not impressed as the opportunities for alternate transportation come and go on the flight board behind us.

There is no alternative flight to Moscow today.  I'm given a voucher for a hotel stay, vague instructions as to where to pick up the shuttle, and a $15 meal voucher.  I wait at "Curb H8" for a bus to pick me up.  After a half-hour, the two displaced German-speakers join me: Herbert and Klaus.  Both men are losing a day's work.  Both are highly unimpressed by United's consistent lack of professionalism and competence. 

The shuttle takes us for a 45-minute ride to the Landsdowne Resort - which really is a resort.  It is located in the middle of a golf course in Leesburg, Virginia.  After checking in, the guys agree to meet for dinner.  I would normally have said "no."  I like my private time to read and be left alone.  But this is an adventure, and since providence has arranged things in such an unexpected way, I decide to hang out with the German-speaking guys.  I agree to meet them for dinner.

I go to my room, log onto the Internet, and make some progress with S7.  I asked them to change my reservation for a day later, and they promise to call me back to get my credit card number.  So, I head to the restaurant/pub armed with my $15 United voucher (which in this place will probably get me a packet of ketchup and a cup of warm water...), and meet up with my fellow resort-refugees.

Herbert is a 51-year old dentist from the Vienna area.  We have a good chat over sandwiches and beer.  I had a steak panini (which maxed out the voucher) and washed it down with a Stella Artois.  Herbert was visiting his son in New Orleans, who is himself on a sort-of tour of America working on his English.  He is completing dental school and will soon join his father's practice.  Father and son met in New Orleans for a visit - and both apparently really had a good time.  After a while, we are joined by Klaus, a German army pilot currently from Munich who had been visiting Baton Rouge and New Orleans.

While at the restaurant, my phone went off.  It was S7.  I read off my credit card info, but their computer system dropped.  They promised to call back.  I hope I have a reservation.

Since we are scheduled to fly out about the same time, the three of us arrange for a 3:00 pm ride to the airport the next day.  We made plans for a walk at 10:00 the next morning.  I was able to go back to my room and use SnapYap to do a video conference with Grace.  I did some reading and took a nice hot shower. 

So, I spent the night in a resort in Washington when I should have been sleeping on a plane to Moscow.  My American contact has already left for Russia.  I'm still waiting on a call about my flight from Moscow to Novosibirsk.  The adventure hasn't even started and its already an adventure.

Here are all of my pictures from Day One.

Sermon: Exaudi – 2011

5 June 2011 at Salem Lutheran Church, Gretna, LA

Text: John 15:26-16:4 (Ezek 36:22-28, 1 Pet 4:7-14)

In the name of + Jesus. Amen.

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

“The hour is coming when whoever kills you will think he is offering service to God. And they will do these things because they have not known the Father, nor Me.”

In the eyes of the world, the recently deceased Dr. Jack Kevorkian was a hero. He helped people to avoid suffering. For in the eyes of the world, helping people to die rather than to suffer pain is a high act of moral compassion. And of course, compassion is a great virtue, as is trying to alleviate suffering. But at what cost? Should we “put people out of their misery” like we do animals – or does human life hold value even in suffering?

Martin Luther went so far as to consider suffering to be a “mark of the Church.” In other words, a church that is too comfortable is no church at all. For the Church is always attacked by the devil, and so suffering is always something that goes along with the Christian faith. Didn’t our Lord invite us to follow Him by also inviting us to take up our own cross?

And yet by contrast, the world mocks any suggestion that suffering may actually be noble. The world cannot understand our Lord’s teaching to turn the other cheek, to pray for our enemies, to forgive those who hurt us, and to count ourselves blessed when we are slandered and persecuted for the sake of the kingdom. Nor does the world understand one of the last words our Lord uttered in excruciating suffering on the cross: “Father forgive them, they know not what they do.” In fact, the word “excruciating” means literally the pain of the cross. And it is this cross we Christians take up, embrace, sign upon ourselves in remembrance of baptism, and look to with repentant joy – counting it a privilege to suffer for the sake of the Lord and His service, knowing that the Lord’s suffering was not in vain; that we are forgiven by means of His excruciating passion and death. And this is too much for the world to stomach.

Which is why there are those who count killing Christians to be a service to God – even as our Lord promised. In St. Paul’s day, the Jews persecuted the Christians. Later, Paul would himself be executed by the Romans. Roman Christians would one day suffer at the hands of Pagans. Christians would later suffer at the hands of other Christians, then at the hands of Muslims, Fascists, and Communists – all of whom count it a benefit to the human race to torture and kill Christians. Indeed, today marks the 716th day of captivity of Pakistani wife and mother Asia Bibi, who is also facing execution by hanging for the crime of being a follower of Jesus. Today is also the 3,718th day of imprisonment for a young Chinese woman named Li Ying – the niece of a pastor. She is not allowed to have a Bible, and instead works 15 hours a day making cheap exports that make their way to us here in America. Pastor Vahik Abrahamian has been imprisoned in Iran since last September, and spent his first 40 days in prison in solitary confinement and torture – all for following Christ. “Whoever kills you,” says our Lord, “will think he is offering service to God.”

The only way our brothers and sisters can suffer so courageously, still carrying forgiveness and peace in their hearts, is because of the Lord’s promise: “When the Helper comes, whom I will send to you from the Father, the Spirit of truth, who proceeds from the Father, He will bear witness about Me.”

No one will suffer for a cause he doesn’t believe in. And while many will suffer for an evil cause, our brothers and sisters suffer for the sake of love, for the sake of the Gospel, for the sake of forgiving their enemies and praying for their captors, for the sake of Him who suffered and died and walked out of His own tomb. No suicide bomber or fanatical cult member can make the same claim. We Christians can suffer for the Lord because the Lord has suffered for us. We can love our enemies, because our Lord loved us even when we were His enemies. And yet, we are now reconciled with the Father. We are now at peace through the cruciform ministry of the Son. We are now made whole in the truth of the Spirit – who bears witness about the Christ whom the Church also confesses.

St. Peter teaches us that our faith is so radical, so countercultural, so at odds with the reasonable people of this world, that we should consider persecution to be business as usual: “Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you, as though something strange were happening to you,” says the apostle. He teaches us that what we should consider not being persecuted as weird. We should expect to be attacked, mocked, marginalized, lied about, or even imprisoned or put to death – as followers of Him who was Himself attacked, mocked, marginalized, lied about, imprisoned, and indeed put to death – even the excruciating death of the cross.

St. Peter counsels us: “Rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may rejoice and be glad when His glory is revealed. If you are insulted for the name of Christ, you are blessed, because the Spirit of glory and of God rest upon you.”

Sabina Wurmbrand, the wife of Pastor Richard Wurmbrand (both of whom were imprisoned and tortured for many years by Communists for no reason than that they were Christians) wrote about her time in prison with women of every walk of life – from prostitutes to nuns. On one occasion, she asked the nuns if they were permitted to sing hymns in prison. Sister Veronica said: “We are allowed to sing, and they are allowed to beat us” as Sister Sophia showed Sabina her many bruises and scars. They counted it a privilege to suffer for, and with, their Lord who suffered for them and gave His own life as a ransom for them and for many in order to reconcile us to the Father.

And so why should we count it odd to suffer far less than these for our own confession of faith? Certainly we share Luther’s confession that bearing the cross is one of the marks of the Christian. For even if we can make friends with the world to an extent for the sake of the Gospel, ultimately, the world still hates us, and it will turn on us like a rabid animal. For the world hated Him who came before us, who died for the sins of the world, who has called us to take up our cross and follow Him.

Dear friends, we make the sign of the cross not to remember the suffering of the cross, but to confess the benefit of the cross as delivered in our Holy Baptism. For the Lord Himself speaks through the prophet: “I will sprinkle clean water on you and you shall be clean from all your uncleannesses, and from all your idols I will cleanse you. And I will give you a new heart, and a new spirit I will put within you. And I will remove the heart of stone from your flesh and give you a heart of flesh. And I will put My Spirit within you.” This is repentance! This is regeneration and rebirth!

This, dear friends, is more than the world can stand, more than the devil can stomach, more than our sinful flesh can bear. And this promise is the very essence of faith, and it is something we Christians hold onto, come what may: even the “fiery trial” of suffering and persecution. For we know what the cross means: not merely pain to be avoided, but rather reconciliation to be effected. In His cross we find our Savior, and in His death we find our life.

The world doesn’t approve of this any more than it approves of Him. For this is the way of the cross. It is the way of forgiveness, life, salvation, reconciliation, love, hope, joy, and peace – even in times of suffering. For even in our crosses, this is our refrain, this is the Church’s confession, this is our answer to all the pain and suffering of this fallen world: “God… be glorified through Jesus Christ. To Him belong glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen.”

Christ is risen! He is risen indeed! Alleluia!

In the name of the Father and of the + Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

My Siberian Adventure - Day 24 - July 20, 2011

Begin: Yekaterinburg
Fly to: Moscow (Domodedovo Airport)
Fly to: Washington (Dulles Airport)
Fly to: Kenner (Louis Armstrong Airport)
Drive to: Gretna

My alarm goes off at 4:30 am.  Dan is up and ready to shower.  I begin to pack my bags and close up my cot.  I am able to IM with Grace one last time.  We are very excited.  I am bleary-eyed.  The sky looks as bright as it did three hours ago when I went to sleep - not quite dark.  In a matter of minutes, the sky becomes blue.

I distribute my things between bags and pack clothing as best as I can to protect fragile items.  I pack my backpack inside my carry-on in case I can't have my carry-on with me under my seat.

Father Sergey arrives on time and drives us to Yekaterinburg's Koltsovo Airport.  The language barrier and time of day makes it a quiet ride.  Before we leave the car to walk to the terminal, Sergey gives me two CDs - the ones he had been playing in the car.  He gives the third disk - Dire Straits - to Dan.  He accompanies us to the terminal.  He joins us through the preliminary security search.  It was not aggressive, but I was frisked by a lady officer - something that (at least so far) is not done in the U.S.

We head to the check-in line and say goodbye to Sergey (who has to work at his full-time secular job today), and head off to security.  Again, the blue footies and the naked-scanner.  This time I see that there is a small locked room blocked off by frosted glass where the naked-scanner operator works.

We make it to our gate and a bus drives us to our plane.  It is an A320 - not large but not small either.  There are three seats on each side per row.  Dan and I are seated together.

The Ural Airlines staff is friendly, but they speak almost no English - but enough.  Our flight to Moscow is less than two hours.  They serve a hearty boxed breakfast - which is almost like every other meal in Russia: salad, hot dish (chicken and rice in my case), bread, butter, cheese, meats, a cookie, a small cup of tea, and even a little chocolate bar.  I save the bread, cheese, meats, and chocolate to bring back home to share.

Our flight was wonderful and comfortable.

We arrived at Domodedovo Airport, and it is very familiar thanks to my introduction by Elena.  What was formerly exotic and a bit intimidating had become comfortable.

There are a few new experiences, however.

We were selected for some kind of interview after checking our luggage.  Perhaps this was because of the crucifix around my neck.  We were asked what we had in our bags.  The young woman x-rays our bags, but strangely, there is no operator at the console to look at the images.  She then had us open our bags and rifles through all of our things, asking questions about whether or not we have "cultural" items.  What the hell does that mean?  The only reason I think I know what she might be after is because of the story I had heard of the LCMS pastor a couple years back who was detained at the airport because he had an antique crucifix that he had purchased.  He had bought it legally, but such things are not permitted to leave Russia.  The irony is that in the Soviet Union, such things were destroyed.  Now, taking them out of the country - even if you have purchased them legally - is not allowed.

The lady officer handles my books repeatedly and asks questions about "icons."  Since all of my icons are in my checked bag, and none of them are antiques, I answer "no" to all of her questions.  She wants to know what souvenirs I have.  I explain that I have refrigerator magnets, coffee mugs, etc.

She is finally (though reluctantly) satisfied, and we hastily repack our things and leave.

We head to Passport Control.  This is in a section of the airport known as Passenger Control.  Dan and I go to different lines, as he has one of the new electronic passports with the chip.

There are two young women decked out like Panamanian generals in the booth.  One takes my passport and unceremoniously removes it from the plastic cover.  She looks at it, looks at me, yawns, and flips through it trying to look official.  I stand patiently.  She doesn't ask me any questions at all.  She gives me my passport back and turns on the green light for me to exit.

At security, we were again (for the second time, I believe) asked if we had packed our own bags.  We then head to the blue footies and the naked-scanner, assemble our stuff, and finally emerge into the airport proper.

As the airport has wifi, I was able to IM with Grace.  Dan and I have to hang out and wait for the United agent to show up.  Dan discovers the self-check-in kiosks and is ale to get his seat assignment and boarding pass.  Mine will not work for some reason.  I have to wait until 9:15 for the United personnel to arrive.

In line, we meet an elderly man who is a native Russian who has lived for more than 30 years in San Francisco.  He is a trained mathematician and was a designer of computer chips in Silicon Valley.  His wife is dying of cancer.  The details of his story are unclear.  He considers both Moscow and San Francisco to be his homes.  Like many scientists and mathematicians, he went to school in Novosibirsk.

The United agent is a young Russian woman who asks me if I packed my own bags.  She takes my passport to another clerk, and there seems to be some kind of discussion.  I wait.  I still have no seat assignment and no boarding pass.  She finally returns with my passport and sends me to the booth to check my bag.

The agent there asks me if I would like to upgrade to Economy Plus for $100.  I decline.  What seems to be happening is that the economy seats have been overbooked.  Nevertheless, I receive what appears to be a boarding pass, though without a seat assignment.

Lacking available airport seating, Dan and I take up a position near the elevator in the main part of the airport.  We have some time.  We take turns going to the bathroom - there are long lines.  I'm able to briefly IM with Grace again.

I'm reflecting on the airport security issue.  We went through the naked-scanner.  I'm wondering why we still have to remove our belts and shoes if they are able to look at the inside of our gonads.  I guess it keeps the blue-footie people at their jobs.  More likely it is the general principle of Soviet government (from which we in the United States are not exempt) according to one of our Russian friends: to humiliate and dominate the individual at every turn.  It's about control.

Anyway, I would like a coffee, so Dan and I take our carry-ons and go for a walk.  Ah!  A nice coffee shop whose Cyrillic letters spell out "Coffee Mania."  It's a mania all right!  A cappuccino is $13 U.S.  A simple cup of tea is even more!  There are vending machines in the airport, but we don't have any small bills.

We return to our gate to learn that our flight is delayed.  I get online and send a few e-mails and facebook "thank yous."  We learn that our plane has "mechanical problems."  Great.  We find a small airport magazine store that sells drinks.  A plastic bottle of Coke is only 47 rubles (a little more than a buck and a half).  Iced tea is 170 rubles.  Interestingly, Diet Coke (Coke Light in Russia) is twice as expensive as regular Coke.  It's made, I believe, with saccharine - and tastes terrible.  I buy us a couple drinks and pay with Visa.

Prior to boarding, there is yet another agent at the gate who asks us if we packed our own bags.  There are not enough seats at the gate, and we are standing - like many others.

After a long wait, we board.  Dan and I are not sitting together.  In fact, he has been put into an Economy Plus window seat, while I am again in "the middle of the middle" for the longest part of the trip home.  We are informed that our connecting flights are being rerouted.

I'm squished between two Russian guys whose families are in the rows in front and behind.  I had taken my Nook, my computer, and a couple books and put them in my backpack at the gate.  This enabled me to have them under the seat in front of me while my red wheeled-carry-on is overhead.

At 2:45 we are in the air - about two hours late.  Our connections are being rescheduled.

I'm tired.  I'm going to take a nap.

Here come the drinks.  I order a ginger ale.  The stereotype is true: all the Americans want ice while the Russians decline.  The Russians prefer juice - orange or tomato - while the Americans prefer soda - as a rule, that is.

Dinner (lunch?) was not as good as what the Russian airlines served.  It wasn't bad, but rather just tasteless.  The salad was a bowl of leaves that tasted like paper.  I took a bite and didn't touch the rest.  One of the Russian guys next to me asked me what the salad dressing was for.  I told him that it was for the "salat" - and then told him that Russian "salat" is better.  He laughed.

The chicken dish with rice wasn't bad, nor was the little cake - a sort-of mildly industrial strawberry.  he bread was definitely industrial.  Welcome back to America!  Rather than risk another instant coffee, I opted for a tea.  Less of a gamble.  It's hard to screw up tea, though it was not served with the bag as it was on Russian flights.

I would have liked to have practiced Russian with my neighbor, but I didn't even know enough to get started.  I will have to work on it.

It's 8:00 am NOLA time and our plane is crossing the border from Sweden to Norway.

I sure hope that either I can make my connection or get another route home today.  This is a long flight, but knowing that I will see Grace and Leo makes it a great joy!  I can't wait to get home!

The stewardess comes by with the coffee.  It is brewed!  I'm sure drinking coffee will be a mistake.  My poor system is not going to know whether it is time to sleep (it is 8:00 pm Novosibirsk time) or time to wake up (it's 8:00 am NOLA time) - but I'm really Jonesing for a coffee.  The Moscow Airport cheated me out of my cappuccino by its avarice.  So, no matter the consequences, I'm having my coffee, dammit, and with milk and sugar to boot!  It's not good, but it's coffee - and it didn't set me back twelve bucks either!  I figure this will help ramp me back up to the good stuff.

I almost bought a Turkish coffee urn at the Moscow airport, but Dan had warned me about the Moscow prices (confirmed by the cappuccino), and I said "nyet."  Besides, I really didn't have room in my carry-on.

After all of this liquid, I have to pee.  I'm in the middle of the middle, of course, just as I was on the way to Moscow, and both of my seatmates are sleeping.  I nudge the poor guy on my left and say: "Извините. Туалет." (Excuse me. Toilet.).  He's a good sport, and gets up to let me go by.

I have to wait a long time.

After returning, my seatmate speaks to me in broken English.  He says, "I love God."  I remember this expression from one of Richard Wurmbrand's books.  This seems to be an idiomatic way of confessing Christianity.  Indeed, he is a Christian - a Pentecostal.  He knows that I am a Christian, perhaps from my table prayer and sign of the cross, or maybe because of the cross around my neck.  I tell him that I am a Lutheran pastor.  He has lived in the U.S. for a few years, though English remains difficult for him.  His wife and children are in the seats behind us.  His children are fluent in English.  They used to live in California, and now they live in Maryland.  They just returned from a seven-month trip to Belarus to care for elderly relatives.

I get back to writing and he gets back to sleeping.  Since we are back in the Western hemisphere - just off the coast of Iceland and almost to Greenland - I change my wedding ring back to my left hand.  It feels more natural there, but has been on my right hand long enough to create a small calloused ridge.

After several hours of transferring journal notes, I decide to rest my hand.  I'm beginning to get a little tired.  It's 12:20 am Novosibirsk time, 12:20 pm New Orleans time.  We're heading into Labrador.  We have covered 5,396 km at 34,000 feet, 3:09 (hours) to destination, 2,500 km to go.  It is -38C outside of the plane.  Our ground speed is 517 mph, 835 km/h.

We land about an hour late.  It does look like I will miss my flight.  I meet up with Dan as we rush off the plane.  We head to customs, go through quickly, pick up our bags, recheck our bags, and go through security again - even though each minute that goes by means missed connections.

People are steamed.

The line is chaotic.  People are frustrated and in a hurry.  I finally emerge to inquire about my flight.  The board says it has left.  The customer service rep, an elderly man, is smart-alecky and rude, being quite obnoxious to a couple of German girls in front of me - who don't seem to understand his "humor."  He sends me to customer service at C-20, and tells me with a smirk. "There will be a long line."  I consider for a split second telling him this is why Americans are not always liked around the world.  Instead, I thank him for his "help."  Welcome back to the United States.

Anyway, I rush over to gate C-20 and meet up with Dan.  This is the selfsame place that I had met Herbert and Klaus at the other end of this adventure.  And it isn't quite over yet!  Dan had phoned me and met me there.  From the line of unhappy international travelers, I ask him if it is possible just to go back to Siberia.  Things are not looking good.  The clerk informs me that there are no other flights to New Orleans today.  He could get me to Houston.

But, here comes a break in the gloom, a tiny crack in the window of opportunity that could slam shut any second.  It seems that there are (what else?) mechanical problems on the flight to New Orleans, and it hasn't actually taken off yet.  He suggests that I run to the gate - which is a long, long way.

Dan and I sprint along the airport.  At the gate, I am told we are waiting for information.  Nevertheless, I am given a boarding pass!  Of course, this assumes that we will fly.

Dan and I head to the bar and enjoy a final пива - a couple of Stella Artois.  We were both very pleased with how the trip went, and both expressed appreciation for one another as travel companions.

We say goodbye, and I head back to my gate.  There is a Starbucks on the way, and a latte makes friends with the beer in my belly.  They seem quite as compatible as Dan and I seem to be.  I return to my gate, and it turns out that I have even more time to wait.  So, I walk back, meet up with Dan again, and wait with him at his gate.  After a short wait, he boards and departs.  I walk back to my own gate, and, thanks be to God, we are boarding!

I am even in Economy Plus this time on the A319.

God willing, I will be with my family at home soon!

It's time for this adventure to draw to a close.  We land at New Orleans Louis Armstrong Airport - which is actually in nearby Kenner where Grace and I first lived when we moved to the area - with Leo in tow in utero.  That was an adventure of a different sort, as planes used to fly so close to our home that we could just about see the faces of passengers in the windows.

We land!  With excitement that borders on disbelief, I head to baggage claim.  And there they are: Grace and Leo!  My bag arrives quickly.  Leo is beaming as both are clinging to me with excitement.  Grace drives us back to Gretna where we celebrate my homecoming to America with ice cream at McDonald's.

So now, this adventure has ended, and our adventure together as a family begins anew.  Thanks be to God!  Amen!

Here is a link to all of my pictures from Day Twenty-Four.