Putting a Face on the Persecuted

Does prayer for persecuted Christians far away really make a difference? A direct and immediate impact on those who suffer would be hard to prove. We do know, however, that some Iranians upon release from their ordeal of an Iranian imprisonment have spoken of sensing at times a “wind” of the Spirit that gave them new hope amid their suffering. 

Recently the College Church Friday prayer time for persecuted Christians has been following the challenges facing “Siamak,” a businessman from a closed country whom I met in a small Istanbul hotel over two years ago. Siamak had heard me talking with another hotel guest and concluded that I must be a follower of Jesus. After breakfast as I went out the entrance way for the day Siamak followed me a short distance and stopped me to ask if I could teach him something about the Christian way. That evening we met in his hotel room for a lengthy and serious discussion and met again briefly the next evening before he left for his home country. 

Months later we began regular reading and discussion of Bible passages on Skype. By the end of the year, first, Siamak and then his wife were able to make the profession of Romans 10:9-10 that the risen Jesus is Lord. But then came long periods of communication breakdown and only brief email exchanges. Questions came to mind: Was his faith genuine? Had he put it aside encountering rejection and threats? Or had he been incarcerated? 

Our Friday prayer group began to pray for Siamak by name. We were encouraged that a Skype chat occurred in which he said he and his wife were continuing to read a copy of the New Testament they had gotten hold of. Just two weeks ago, Siamak again Skyped to say he and his wife had been hosting a reading of the Gospel of Matthew with three of their friends. But Saturday, October 29, he phoned to say he had been summoned by the police for extensive interrogation about his activities. I again assured him a group of Christians was praying for him every Friday at noon. Then Thursday this week he emailed that his brother had learned of his summons and commitment to Christ and was putting great pressure on the two of them. Gladly, the next day, an hour before our prayer meeting, he emailed that he and the circle of friends had met the same day for their regular gathering at a neutral place since their home was now being watched. Indeed, his faith is genuine! 

Does praying for those being persecuted make a difference? Siamak would say it does. Join us in prayer for the man I call Siamak. Our Lord knows Siamak by his real name and the names of those who meet with him. 

Glenn Deckert

Even though I've never met Siamak, I pray for him, and I am thankful when Glenn tells our Friday group of how God is working in his life. Then there are the other Christ followers that we pray for—some by first name or just an initial, others are not identified at all—and we may never hear updates about them, but know deep in our hearts that the world is not worthy of them. This Sunday evening, we will have a time of prayer for the persecuted church. Also, we will always make room for you at the table at the Friday prayer group for the persecuted church.

A Psalm of Repentance

The road to an apology

is fraught with theology.

The twists and the turns

are the bumps and the burns

of a heart in the throes of agony.

The words an illusion

of my soul’s contusion.

I continue to stumble

with each word that I mumble,

and I am slave to my endless confusion.

The relief that I seek

is on Mercy’s peak.

My struggle to the top

made worse by each drop,

until I am sufficiently shown I am weak.

The wind reaches down.

I am given Your crown.

When my silence is silent,

I am released from the Tyrant,

and I am clothed in a new white gown.

Forgiveness cannot be obtained,

as my old gown cannot be unstained.

The renewal comes from You,

as a gift, it is true,

and through it, my heart you have claimed.

by Alyssa Carlburg

Scared Silly by Lorraine Triggs

You are traveling through another dimension, a dimension not only of sight and sound but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land whose boundaries are that of the imagination. That's the signpost up ahead—your next stop, the Twilight Zone!

I hated, truly hated, every minute of every Twilight Zone episode my middle sister forced me to watch with her when we were children.

Ever the dutiful younger sister, I'd sit on the sofa in the living room, eyes down and focused on the not scarey book on my lap. The creepy Twilight Zone theme played in the background.

I'd have nightmares, especially about the one episode that scared me the most, "The Eye of the Beholder." Fortunately for me, our mother would intervene and chide my sister, "Stop scaring your sister silly."

Actually, my sisters and I and a few neighborhood friends figured out a way to make money off of scaring other neighborhood kids silly.

We'd rig up bedsheets to the backyard clothesline to create a narrow haunted hall, plug in extension cords that went from the house to the yard to our record player in order to play our "Haunted House Sound Effects" LP, peel grapes for eyeballs and cook (and cool) spaghetti for brains. We made blood to drink (red Kool Aid) and bones to crunch (skeleton cookies). And we charged 25 cents to go through our haunted hall, 50 cents if you wanted refreshments. 

But, what about when real life, or at least real-life fears and anxieties, are more scarey than even the scariest episode of the Twilight Zone? A prodigal son and nephews, the dark shadow of malignancy, an aging brain that doesn't function as well as it once did, too many sleepless nights in a row, fractured relationships—insecurities and anxieties on all fronts that assult us after midnight.

If we listen close enough, however, we will hear God's theme music in the background of life. It's the music of God's Word, speaking into our fears.

I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress,

my God, in whom I trust.”

For he will deliver you from the snare of the fowler

and from the deadly pestilence.

He will cover you with his pinions,

and under his wings you will find refuge;

his faithfulness is a shield and buckler.

You will not fear the terror of the night,

nor the arrow that flies by day,

nor the pestilence that stalks in darkness,

nor the destruction that wastes at noonday.

(Psalm 91:2–6)

And by God's amazing grace, the next time those midnight assaults attack me or that stray arrow of anxiety takes aim during the day, they don't have quite the same effect on my soul as they did the day before.

A Psalm for the Hidden Church

Monday:

For those who clean the kitchen,

put away chairs,

record prayer requests and areas of interest—

we bless you, Lord!

Tuesday:

For Adam, who delivers our just-roasted coffee;

for Cindy, who pays our bills and helps keep us on track;

for Ladora, our faithful and friendly mail carrier,

we bless you, Lord!

Wednesday:

Thank you, God, for teams.

For the team that paints arrows for parking,

keeps bathrooms clean,

light bulbs burning,

windows sealed and so much more,

we bless you, Lord!

Thursday:

For those who who gather and organize for retreats and events,

for those who print and fold our worship folders and newsletters every week,

for our photographers and videographers,

we bless you, Lord!

Friday:

For those who put up posters and newsletters,

for those who cook such good food,

for those who fold and collate week after week,

we bless you, Lord!

Saturday:

For those who give themselves—

to make our gardens lovely,

to patch our ceilings and walls,

to catalog books for our library,

we bless you, Lord!

Sunday:

For those who help us park, we bless you, Lord!

For those who serve us coffee, we bless you, Lord!

For those who greet us at the door, we bless you, Lord!

For those who help us find a seat in worship, we bless you, Lord!

For those who greet and help our newcomers, we bless you, Lord!

For those who sell us books, we bless you, Lord!

For those who teach the Bible, we bless you, Lord!

Have You Ever Looked at Water

by Vikki Willams

A:

Have you ever looked at water?

Have you ever looked at glass?

Have you wondered if you ought to

stand and wait the storm to pass?

B:

Have you seen a faded red rose?

Have you seen when summer’s passed?

Have you wondered at the day’s close

Why the time should even last?

C:

Have you ever felt the ice-wind?

Have you ever felt the fire?

Have you ever had your arm pinned

‘Twixt the blizzard and the pyre?

D:

Have you laughed among the happy?

Have you laughed among the lost?

Have you felt the current lapping

'Round your ankles for the cost?

E:

Have you ever cursed the sunshine?

Have you screamed into the rain?

Have you crossed a bloody fault-line

just to staunch a spreading stain?

F:

Have you learned an invocation?

Have you learned to read some Psalms?

Have you pled for our salvation

Holding outstretched, empty palms?

F’:

You have known the disappointment.

You have known the state of shock.

Can you keep your next appointment

If you cannot use the clock?

E’:

Have you tasted of the honey?

Have you eaten of the pods?

Have your hunger and your thirsting

Brought you back from other gods?

D’:

Have you wept among the lonely?

Have you wept among the weak?

Have you wandered looking only

For the blessing that you seek?

C':

Have you ever felt the wind's tail?

Have you felt the winter's snows?

Have you ever seen a child fail,

and then wonder how it grows?

B':

Have you ever watched the sun rise?

Have you watched it as it set?

Have you wondered when the lark cries

Why your need to rest is met?

A':

Have you looked upon the ocean?

Have you looked upon the shore?

Let us journey up the mountain

Though our feet be scarred and sore.

A note from Vikki: "Have you ever looked at water?" is an intense poem about beauty, loss, the yearning for redemption, and the not-so-easy path to capture it. All this is fitted into a roughly chiastic structure. (That is, when verses are in the sequence A, B, C, C', B', A', the verses A and A', etc. form a pair.)

Hope

by Liita Forsyth

This isn't the first time artist Liita Forsyth has shared her work with College Church. She and her husband, Paul, were members here before they moved to River Forest, where they now attend Calvary Memorial Church in neighboring Oak Park. OneWord Journal is pleased to feature Liita's art once again.

Says Liita, "The idea in this piece is HOPE, which the psalms are full of . . ."

Dysl3xia

A Song of Lament by Nancy Tally

Oh Lord, you knit me together but did you have to drop 

so many stitches when you made my brain?

You must have dropped stitches for there are so many holes

 into which my words and thoughts fall and disappear.

I must admit, you were creative about it.

The variety seems endless.

The letters in one word may dance about

 making them impossible to erad or pesak.

Letters from multiple words may mix together

Causing a cacophony of Sorgi ts hunod.

My eyes may read them out of order.

“Is it so?” Or was it, “It is so.”

My ears may hear them out of order

“We are marching into the enemy’s camp” made no sense.

Oh! All those years it was actually “Are we marching?” 

As I listen words may chute through holes and not reach my brain

 in the same order in which they were spoken.

My face echoes my confusion as “Huh?” escapes my mouth.

The roll of the eyes on the speaker’s face says “Duh”

I stand in a group wanting to enter the conversation,

My thoughts are together,

As I open my mouth key words fly away.

Friends may offer me words as I struggle, I still appear stupid.

I am embarrassed and swear to myself I won’t speak again.

Why does my tongue trip and say my words out of order?

Why does it change my chosen word to something similar but wrong?

In print an editor may catch the confusion that I cannot see.

In writing I have time to make corrections that conversation does not afford.

The praise is received. People like what I wrote. 

But my fear is confirmed.

As they express their surprise that I can think deeply,

I know it is true, people perceive me as shallow.

Lord, maybe you didn’t drop stitches.

Maybe moths put holes there after you were done.

Refugees in Real Time

We hold our refugee simulation events. A short-term team goes and returns from the much-reported refugee Camp Moriah on the island of Lesvos in Greece. Team members are profoundly moved and motivated to pray and do more for refugees. They come back and touch our hearts with their experience. But none of us live in a camp. We can go home again. 

As we are in the midst of our "Refuge" missions festival, let's consider how God is at work in Camp Moriah. College Church missionaries Thad and Joy McAuley and Tim and Deanna Smith recently sent in updates about the refugee situation.

The McAuley family has been back in France for about two months now, and Thad describes the scene in France and Europe.

"A lot of police and military personnel in public places—schools, events, monuments, airports and train stations. Foiled bomb plots of young women. Knife attacks against police. Riots in refugee detention camps . . ."

Yeah, we've read that. Watched that on the news.

But then Thad goes a step further, beyond the news reports, "Muslim refugees coming to Christ, and then leading others to Christ. Discipleship groups starting. European churches re-energized as they respond to the needs around them."

A team, working at Camp Moriah, sent Thad this report last week.

Spiritually, people are incredibly open. All of our people are having significant conversations and were even before the riots. A random Somali guy stopped one of our guys on Sunday to talk about faith. Another had a 90-minute conversation with someone else his first day in [the refugee camp]. Naser, one of the translators injured [in the riots], had accepted Christ earlier in the day. It reminds us of the early days in Eastern Europe when incredible numbers of people came to Christ.

Tim and Deanna' Smith's recent report describe the riots and its impact on the camp.

"In September, the population of refugees had swelled to more than 5600 people in a camp designed for 3500. A peaceful protest against the crowded conditions had escalated into ethnic violence. Panic stricken, thousands of people fled the camp as fires burned uncontrollably. In the aftermath of the riot, Arnie declared, 'The fish are jumping in the boat.'"

"Arnie and his team are integrally involved in helping the refugees in Moria this year. Their most immediate task was to evacuate the unaccompanied minors to an olive grove. A team of six adults were responsible for 150 teenagers. They were able to move them to a children’s camp several hours later. Remarkably, there were no deaths. Arnie took three refugee translators who had been injured to the hospital, and the whole team returned to the camp to help clean up and set up new tents."

Tim and Deanna end their report with this: "People who have lost everything are meeting Jesus in record numbers."

Good words for followers of Jesus to take to heart, especially amidst all of the chatter and political perspectives on the refugee crisis.

People who have lost everything are meeting Jesus and finding refuge, a new home, in him.