Friday, February 8, 2008

The Mine Field of Hopes

"If we say in our hearts that we are of Christ, but outwardly deny Him before others then what becomes of faith?"

The words once spoken to me by a friend echoed deeply within the chasms of my mind. I tried frantically to recall the full conversation I had with that friend, but to no avail. Languishing in my prison cell, I awaited my inevitable execution by Dolorian troops.

"Why is this happening to me? I've been serving God faithfully in my ministry for the past 10 years. What wrong have I done?," I lamented.

--

It has been 2 years since the ascension of the Antichrist to the world theater, as foretold by the apostle John in the book of Revelations. He has made all nations bow to his rule, established by decades of global conspiracies by a secret organisation known as the Illuminati. Now, with almost unlimited political power, he has called for all Christians to either renounce their faith or be executed for treason.

Almost instantly after his declaration of Order 666, persecution of an unprecedented scale since the Roman persecutions of the early Christian church in the first three centuries of its conception swept the worldwide church. Entire congregations were sentenced to death as churches worldwide were razed to the ground. Severe sanctions were issued against those who held onto their hopes in Christ and refused to receive the "mark" of the world government. They were denied public services, mainly education, healthcare and transportation. People who held the "mark" were proscribed from dealing or offering assistance to them, an order which carries the death penalty should they refuse to obey.

It was God's call that brought me to this place called Dolor. Persecution here was one of the most severe that I have witnessed. The majority of Christians lived in extreme poverty, suffered from acute malnutrition and constantly dwelled in fear of being greeted by death at any moment. The local government has issued orders for the eradication of Christian "villages" or encampments. Numerous mass killings of Christians have been orchestrated by the armed forces loyal to the government, most often entire settlements were wiped out within minutes.

Three months ago, I took a jeep from neighbouring Voisin into Dolor with 4 other companions as a relief team sent by our church to the war-torn country (or should I say state, after the world was united under one world government). Our task was simple, to bring relief and aid to the local Christians. As we could not go through the main road for fear of being detained by government troops, we took a dirt road through the jungle. We arrived at the village of Consto, our checkpoint. We shall be trekking through the dense jungle from there onwards.

After 3 days of braving the wilderness of the seemingly hostile jungle with a local Christian as our guide, we entered the village of Sperro. The 50 km trek from Consto through the harsh terrain left us exhausted by we were relieved to be greeted by the cheerful smiles and laughter of the villagers. My team set out to work, delivering much needed aid to the people. I managed to have a conversation with the village priest.

Now well over his 70's, Father Moore sported a long white beard. Many deep wrinkles were strewn all over his face, a vivid indication of his well advanced age. Yet, his expression was coloured with excitement at our arrival. He spoke in a soft, yet coherent, voice. He reminded me a lot of the pastor of the church which I used to attend when I was much younger.

"Praise God, son that you came," began Father Moore. "Our supplies have almost been exhausted ever since the government impose sanctions against us. The military has recently stepped up its surveillance. Some of us who tried to obtain supplies from neighbouring villages have been arrested."

"What do you think will happen to them?" I enquired, anxious about their fate.

Father Moore looked at me dolorously. In a calm voice, he answered, "If they're lucky, they'll get a quick death. Otherwise, they'll probably be tortured ruthless until well...they expire."

Somehow, I've anticipated the answer. I've seen countless such events in the past 2 years and I'm no stranger to death and suffering.

"I see...," I acknowledged grimly.

"But don't you fret, son. God has them in His arms now. They're up there enjoying God's company. In a sense, death frees them from the sufferings of the world," he comforted me.

I couldn't agree more. I've seen much of the ugly side of the world and the cruelties man are capable of. It would certainly be a wonderful experience to be rejoicing in heaven with God. After all, that's the reason for the faith that we are professing, it is the hope that we are clinging so tightly to, it is the sole purpose that we were created in the first place! But still, the thought of dying troubled me deeply.

After a moment of silence, I raised my voice to pose a question. "Father...," I hesitated, "...what's it like to die? To have the life stripped from you in an instant?"

Looking surprisingly composed despite the frankness of my question, the priest pondered the question for a brief moment. He look intensely into my eyes, opened his mouth and spoke.

"To die without knowing where you're headed after death, to die thinking about the numerous things that you leave behind, to die not wanting to let go of this world, now that I think is scary and painful death. But to die knowing your eternal destiny, to willingly leave the things of this world behind for greater things in the world ahead, to die in the comforting arms of someone who dearly loves you, knowing that you will rejoice with him in that wonderful place, that's a peaceful and wonderful death."

He let his words hang in the air for a moment before continuing.

"Rest assured, son. We will all die in the comforting arms of our Lord and saviour Jesus Christ. There's no need to be afraid. He will be there for us and lead us to our eternal destinies, eternal fellowship with Him. Think about it - we are leaving behind the ugly things of the world for the beautiful things of heaven. Isn't that worth dying for?"

I contemplated his answer deeply.

True, I should be ready to lay down my life for the Lord. That's what the Lord called us to do.

True, by undertaking this mission, I know that I have accepted and am willing to bear whatever risks associated with it.

True, Death could be greeting me any moment now. But it'll only be for a moment. The Lord himself will snatch me from Death's grip and carry me in His loving arms to the wonderful place called Paradise.

"Yes, Father," the words left my mouth as I nodded in response to his reassuring words. "Thanks."

The priest smiled and as he patted my back, led me on a tour around the village.

"Here," he said upon passing by a house, "is the place of Madam Rosemary, our beloved nurse. She's been taking good care of the sick and wounded, since we're denied public healthcare." I saw that the house was bustling with activity. Calvin, one of my companions on this mission, was running around in the house, helping out Madam Rosemary, who seemed like a pretty caring lady.

I smiled as I saw that Calvin was enjoying his work. The priest and I continued our little tour.

Upon reaching the a structure that looked like a community hall, we stopped.

"Now this, son is the..."

Before he could finish his sentence, a blast threw us from the position we were standing. I was knocked back several meters. Blood was oozing from my forehead and my body was aching. I turned around and surveyed the area around me. To my horror, I saw Father Moore lying motionless on the ground covered in blood. I ran over and knelt beside the priest. I shook him, motioning for him to speak.

Weakly, he looked into my eyes and whispered something. It was barely audible so I had to draw my ears closer to him to be able to make out what he was saying. "The time has come...," he coughed, "for me to join the Lord in Paradise..."

His eyelids closed. His breathing stopped. He was no longer moving now.

At that moment, I was scared and distraught. I simply did not what to do. As I was still caught in bewilderment, another blast erupted. I turned around and saw the "community hall" partially blown apart. Several other subsequent explosions followed. I was gripped with terror at the moment and ran for my life.

The village was in chaos. People were running for their lives. The blasts continued. Some unfortunate people who were caught in a blast were either entirely blown to bits, lost their limbs or severely wounded.

"The military is coming!" one person screamed.

"They're shelling the village!" shouted another.

A sudden understanding of the source of the explosions came to me. The military was shelling the village with artillery barrages. This is just to weaken any possible resistance, I thought. The government troops would soon arrive to finish off the job! Ultimately, my greatest fears became a reality. Military jeeps rolled into the village. The soldiers jumped off hastily from the back of the jeep and poured into every corner of the village. Their mission was clear - to eradicate the entire village.

Everyone was panicking and trying to flee, but the military had already blocked all escape routes.

After a few moments, I saw a person who seemed to be in authority stepping down from the jeep. His eyes fiercely inspected the village. With scorn in his face, he shouted to the soldiers, "Kill them all!"

No sooner after he gave the order, gunshot rang out from all directions. Stray bullets bored through the bodies of the fleeing villagers and they crumpled to the ground. Some tried to avoid getting shot by laying low, but the soldiers showed no mercy, they too were brutally murdered. A soldier threw a hand grenade into a house, killing all the people who were hiding inside.

As the massacre continued, I continued running towards the jungle, staying as low as I could to avoid getting shot. Suddenly, my foot got entangled by some tree roots. I tripped and fell into a ditch. Seeing that I was safe, I stayed there paralyzed with fear and became a silent observer to the horrific spectacle that was unfolding before my eyes.

I could see women carrying their young ones attempting to escape from the village, but they were hunted down like games. I saw some men attempting to put up a fight, but they easily succumbed to the deadly armaments utilised by the soldiers. I could see people being blown to bits by exploding hand grenades, and people badly disfigured by the shrapnels. It was a horrible sight.

After what seemed like eternity, the rampage finally ceased. A chilling silence enveloped the area. I peered from my observation point. Bodies were strewn all over the place. Blood and bits of flesh were splattered all over the ground. Buildings were reduced to smoldering ruins. The village had been effectively been wiped out. The commander issued a command that was barely audible to me given a distance from him but whatever he said, the soldiers seemed to be on the move again. I saw some survivors being dragged to the jeep.

Abruptly, a shout echoed from behind me, "Hey you, get out of there!" I've been discovered! Startled by the unexpected appearance of the figure, I stood there petrified. Am I going to die?

"Hurry up before I shoot you!" the soldier barked again. Regaining my composure, I obeyed for fear of being killed by my captor. Climbing slowly out of the ditch, unpleasant thoughts of being tortured and brutally executed by the soldiers began to suffuse my mind. I was roughly hauled to the jeep along with the other survivors. To my relief, Calvin was one of them. My happiness, however, was short lived, when I discovered that the rest of my team members had been killed. As an aftermath of the slaughter, only 10 out of over 300 people present in the village survived.

--

Slowly, I opened my eyes and looked up to the prison walls. I was overwhelmed by emotion after recalling the ghastly events that brought me against my will to this putrid, cramped prison cell. I was caving in to the grief of losing so many loved ones in that single incident and not being able to save them.

Why, O Lord! Why?

I was alone in the prison cell, isolated from other captives since the day of my confinement. I knew that they were waging psychological warfare against us, attempting to drive us to the brink of insanity by depriving us of human contact, attempting to force us to a point where we are willing to renounce our faith to escape the seemingly perpetual mental torture. Whenever I would refuse to eat anything to starve myself to death, the soldiers would forcibly stuff me with food to keep me going. I brushed off suicide for fear of the eternal consequences that would lead to.

Tears streamed down my face now. I tried to hold them back but to no avail. My heart was filled with bitterness and anguish over the predicament that had befallen me. To put it briefly, I was on the verge of breaking down.

I mulled over the offer presented to me by the commander a week after I was thrown into this cell. If I simply declared that Christ is not Lord and saviour, I would be scot-free. He even told me that I could live the life of an ordinary citizen with the freedom to engage in ordinary daily activities, something that Christians were severely deprived of. For a moment, I brushed it off almost instantly. The situation now was clearly different. After three months of seclusion, I was physically and mentally exhausted. I could feel a part of me screaming out to me to just take the offer.

"If we say in our hearts that we are of Christ, but outwardly deny Him before others then what becomes of faith?"

The question flashed again in my mind. Instantly, I rebuked the other part of me that was compelling me to give in.

Heaving a long sigh, I lied down on the floor, my eyes gazing at the broken ceiling. Mustering all the strength left in me, I whispered a short prayer to the Lord.

Lord, please Lord! Give me strength. I'm on the verge of giving up now, Lord. Please Lord, don't abandon me. Give me the strength to endure, I ask of you.

I began to sob again.

Seeking for comfort, I closed my eyes and allowed my mind to wander. I travelled retrospectively through time, rummaging through the treasure chest of my mind, sifting through the precious memories which I've kept dearly for the past 10 years.

I paused as a vague reminiscence of the conversation that I was struggling to remember stirred. I began recollecting the fragments of the conversation that lay neglected in that treasure chest for so long. Slowly, the fragments pieced together to form a complete mosaic of the dialogue that took place almost 8 years ago.

--

We sat facing one another in a comfortable old "kopi tiam" restaurant. I was glad to be able to ask Erin out for a drink the night before I boarded the flight back to my hometown, Obsidis. She had been a great source of encouragement to me in the first few years of my life as a Christian. When I was down, she lifted me up. When I was doubtful of myself, she gave me confidence. When I was in sorrows, she gave me joy. Truly she a great sister in Christ and I often sought advice from her in times of need.

We had been talking on light topics for quite some time and I felt like posing a tougher issue to her. Taking a sip of coffee from the glass that lay before me, I began formulating the question in my mind. Then, shoving the glass aside, I asked her, "We all know that persecution will come someday when the Antichrist comes. Let's say if one day, someone pointed a gun at you and forced you to either renounce your faith in Christ, or to walk through a land covered with land mines, which would you choose?"

"Well, Brian. I would say that 'whoever chooses to keep his life loses it, but whoever lays down his life for Christ will gain it'. It's true that when it comes to the point of making the decision, it would be difficult as we would think of family, friends and so on, but still we must be firm in our stand for Christ," came the reply.

I listened intently as she continued.

"I watched a movie last time. A child's father was forced to renounce Christ, or faced death but he chose the latter. The child asked her mother, 'Mom. Isn't what we say in our hearts more important to God than what we say outwardly? So isn't it alright if we reject Christ outwardly, but still believe in Him in our hearts?' The mother looked at the child, 'If that were so, what would become of faith?'"

"So Brian, given the options, I'd still walk through the mine field," she ended with a solid conclusion.

--

The conversation kept playing again and again in my mind, particularly these words.

Those who choose to keep their lives will lose it. Those who lay them down willingly will gain them.

If we say in our hearts that we believe in Christ but outwardly deny Him, then what becomes of faith?

Indeed, what becomes of faith?

I wiped the tears of my eyes. Amazingly, I found renewed strength and resolve to stand up to the persecutions. I must endure to the end, just as the many Christian brothers and sisters who have lost their lives standing firm in their faiths to the end. I must not give in!

With my eyes remained closed, I prayed to the Lord once again.

Lord, I thank you that you've sustained me thus far. I praise you that you have given me the ability to endure up to now. I pray Lord, that you will continue to strengthen me to stand up to the persecutions until the end. Give me the courage to embrace death when the time comes, for when I die, I shall join you in Paradise.

Unspeakable peace flowed through me that night. I felt God tugging at my soul. Somehow, I could sense that I would soon return home to be with Him. A few silent moments passed and I fell soundly asleep.

The following morning, I was awoken by the yell of a soldier. "Hey you, get up! We're moving out today!"

After cleaning myself, I followed the soldier to the jeep waiting for us outside the prison facility. To my surprise, Calvin and 2 other survivors were making their way towards the jeep as well. My face brightened at the chance of seeing them again after 3 months of separation. I took the opportunity to have a word with Calvin.

"Hey. How're ya doing man?"

"Well, not exactly 100% fine, but God has sustained me for the past 3 months."

"Glad to hear that."

"What do you think they'll do to us?"

"Execute us, maybe?"

"Then, are you ready to die, brother?"

"Certainly! No doubt about it!"

We smiled approvingly towards each other as the military jeep made its way along the dirt road towards the jungle.

We arrived at a seemingly barren piece of land. The commander who ordered the destruction of Sperro was there waiting for us.

The rest of the captives and I got off the jeep and stood before him. He paced back and forth, perhaps thinking of what to say and how to say it. He paused and, with a sinister look on his face, turned to me and asked, "Have you made your decision? Do you deny your faith in Christ?"

"No way! Christ is Lord and saviour!" I shot back.

He seemed to have anticipated the answer. He thought for a while, then posed the same question, but this time made it sound more enticing.

"This whole land is littered with mines. If you choose to remain defiant to the end, then you shall walk through this mine field and be blown to bits! Then you can join you beloved Jesus in death! But if you choose to obey me, then you will be a free man. You will be given permanent citizenship and you'll be given the privileges of a free citizen. Think about it! Don't throw your life away!"

He had played this mind game far too many times. Now absolutely certain of my stand, his coaxing no longer made me think twice about my faith. I replied without hesitation.

"I don't want your citizenship, or any of your empty promises. My stand is final. Christ is Lord and saviour! Don't make me repeat that!"

I knew I had crossed the threshold. The commander was clearly fed up with my determination and was furious at his inability to coax me into abandoning my faith. As if trying to intimidate me, he bellowed, "Alright, let's see if your God saves you now!"

He ordered the troops to untie the ropes that were binding my hands and feet. He gave another command and I suddenly noticed several rifles trained at me.

"Now then, if you have faith in your saviour, walk through the minefield!"

I turned towards Calvin. He smiled and nodded assuringly at me. I smiled back at him.

"See you soon, brother."

"Yeah, see you soon."

Catching one last glimpse of my dear companion, I turned my attention towards the barren land that lay before me. I was no longer fearful of the impending death. I was no longer petrified by the fear of death that had held me captive for so long. I was ready to embrace the certainty of God's promise of eternal life.

I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the wind. For a brief moment in time, I thought I heard a faint whisper.

Come home, my faithful child. Don't be afraid. Receive now the crown of life which you have been fighting for.

Yes Lord...

After a brief moment, I walked slowly but steadfastly towards the mine field of hopes...

The End.

Brian Chee

1 comment:

Leen said...

like the way you use all the CA people's name. ^____^

Very nice story. Interesting indeed