The wheels bumped along the partially paved road. It was beautiful, the sugar fields out the right window where green and lush. A lone man bent over in the field. Horns blared as motorcycles passed the Sumo, and the Sumo passed wagons. We peaked our heads out the windows, laughing and marveling at the many bizarre scenes we passed.
We all sang - Any hymn that came to mind, any praise song we all knew. When we starting winding down the steep mountain road that went through the “tiger preserve” (real tigers!?), we bellowed “Rocky mountain high… you’ll always be home sweet home to me…” . We stopped at Pastor Gabriel’s church, where tears misted our eyes at the sight of a blind man who could not see, yet had faith that one day he would see. He worships and proclaims the Gospel to the people of the surrounding villages, and thinks nothing of his blindness.
As we continued toward the mountain-town, the conversation turned to the near state of Orrisa. I had not realized we were so close to Orrisa. I remembered reading articles in Voice Of The Martyrs and other news sources about the riots and murders, where hundreds of Christians were killed and countless churches were burned. It hit me hard. No longer was Christian persecution across the globe. It was down this road. Over the next mountain and only two hours in the car - I could stand where the blood of martyrs had stained the ground. The reality was sobering, it was stilling and awing.
Daddy M. answered our questions as we spoke about persecution and how the Christians dealt with it. He told of those who had gone to help the suffering, and others who had forsaken the name of Christ to escape death. He spoke of those who gave their life for the sake of the One who had given all for them. The Sumo was quite as the seriousness and reality of our Indian sibling’s suffering settled in our hearts. He told of pastors violent deaths, families torn apart. Looking back, I don’t remember a whole lot of the details, but there was one moment that is cemented into my heart. As we discussed the continuing challenges that Christians face from their persecutors, the situation seemed so hopeless and awful. Than Daddy M. said in his calm and serene voice -
“Who can stand before a Living God?”
To say God pierced those words into my heart is an understatement. The Living God, who can stand before him? The horribleness of the persecutors actions, and sorrow of the Christians suffering dimmed in light of The Holy Judge’s justice and holiness.
One day, the martyrs will no longer ask “how long?” One day, the earth will be filled with the glory of God. One day, all will be judged - the righteous and the unrighteous. Those “Of whom the world was not worthy” will hear their Father say “well done”. One day, all the wrongs will be righted. One day, Amos will see the fulfillment of his desire “But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!”
