Kazakhstan Reflections Part 5 - A Place of Refuge

The day was somewhere between hot and warm.  The sun beat down, but I was out of its reach as I sat on a bench in a makeshift courtyard outside of a university performance hall.  The wind was refreshing and tickled my face like soft, warm feathers.  We had been waiting outside of the performance hall, which was to be the venue of that day’s show, for the last hour.

Inside the hall, I could hear the voice of a man speaking over the sound system.  He was speaking either Russian or Kazakh, but I was unable to distinguish between the two languages.  He had been speaking for the last forty-five minutes to whoever was in there.

The wood of the bench creaked as Paul, the organizer of our tour and our gracious host, sat down next to me.  He smiled at me as I looked over at him.  I let an over exaggerated sigh escape from my lungs in emphasis of my boredom.  He chuckled and motioned back at the hall with his thumb.

“Islam.”  He proceeded to slap his fist into his hand, which indicated to me that the person speaking inside was an Imam who was giving a rather passionate sermon on something.  Then Paul continued on with his specially developed communication style that closely resembled a game of charades…

“Terrorism.”  He made a sound to mimic an explosion while using his hands to give me a visual representation of what an explosion would look like.

At that instant, everything I had heard in the news about terrorism was brought to the surface and my world went quiet.  The complacency that was ingrained in me by my western culture was shattered in that moment and I finally came to the realization that I was not in Canada anymore…

A Lesson in Fear

It is true!  Persecution against Christians exists more today than ever before in the world and has become, in many cases, the main obstacle to missions in particular nations.  It is something that affects the church holistically; from home churches in restricted access countries to mega churches in the west.  For some reason that makes no sense to us Christians, there are always people who hate Christ.

I have found that one of the main thoughts that people have when they think of the missions field is: Isn’t it dangerous?  At least that was my first thought when I was introduced to the concept of intercultural ministry way back in the day.  The answer is: yes, there is an inextricable connection between Christianity and persecution.  Christ knew of this what he said “If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first… If they persecuted me, they will persecute you.” (John 15:18-20). 

The history of persecution is a long a grisly one that goes all the way back to the founding of Christianity in the first century AD.  Christians, at that time, were seen as a cultic movement within Judaism.  Soon Jews began hating Christians and killing them, but that wasn’t the end.  Emperor Domitan was a very egocentric emperor.  He viewed himself as a god and therefore required complete allegiance from all peoples in the Roman Empire.  Christians were unwilling to submit to another authority other than Christ, so they were arrested and put in gladiatorial games or burned alive.

The apostles and their disciples were the early missionaries during these times.  Almost every one of them was brutally killed for their faith.  It wasn’t until the legalization of Christianity within the Roman Empire in year 313 AD where history saw a significant decline in persecution.  Yet Christians continued to travel outside of Christendom and to this day, we still see Christians met by death for their faith.

Let’s face it, persecution is scary.  It quite honestly is probably one of the major deterrents for people becoming involved in missions.  Of course not every area in the world is equal in its rejection of Christ, but there are many places where Christianity is outlawed and punished by death.

North America is one of the places where Christians are relatively safe, although they do see persecution as well.  In many places (especially colleges and universities) divulging one’s faith is synonymous with being socially ostracized.  We face social persecution instead of physical persecution.  It is only in rare events where we see physical persecution in our world.

So what do we really know of the persecution that the Bible talks about?  How could we understand what Jesus meant when he said that we would be given up by our families and friends to our deaths? (Matt 10:21)

What I found myself considering on that wooden bench in southern Kazakhstan was how far removed the west is from terrorism and persecution.  We see it…in news programs and pictures.  We hear about it from missionaries and humanitarian organizations.  But we live with it.  Aside from the rare act of terror that slips through government intelligence, we do not experience it.  We don’t know it.  It is not an intimate part of the western world’s experience.

When you remove yourself from the safety of your country’s laws, it doesn’t take long to realize the reality that sits over the majority of the world like a dark cloud.  That reality is much more grim than the fantasy land we have made for ourselves in North America.  Governments, in many parts of the world, are oppressive and antagonistic towards their people.  Societies in other areas are barely hanging on to their independence or peace.  Some are ravaged by civil wars or relentless epidemics.  Amidst these factors of chaos people still find the common ground to hate and kill Christians.

Yet, amongst all that is detestable, unjust and cruel there are pinpricks of light that shine.  In many cases, these lights shine so brightly that those in the darkness can not help but notice them and be attracted to them.

Seeing the believers in Kazakhstan showed me how flimsy my faith is in comparison to people who have endured persecution.  That is not to say that Christians in Kazakhstan and other parts of the world are immune to fear or are in some way better than us, but we need to understand that their faith has been forged in the fires that we cannot fully relate to.

For me, their faith is something to admire.  It is something that I wish to saw more of in my life.  In the case of this “Imam” preaching terrorism, I was completely mistaken.  Paul was trying to tell me that the person inside was a leader at the university speaking out against religious extremism.  Even so, my realization was extremely relevant and taught me something about myself…

I fear the unknown.  I like being prepared for anything.  I will read books, articles and papers about various subjects just so that I can be ready in case I end up in a certain situation.  The knowledge I gain does not guarantee that I will react well or correctly.  I have acknowledged the fact, as was the case with this trip, that sometimes things will happen that you cannot anticipate or prepare for.  All knowledge becomes useless and all that matters is that you have faith in the only one place that is safe.

The Place of Refuge

In ancient Israel, there were six cities constructed that were known as “places of refuge”.  Three were on the east side of the Jordan and three were on the west of the Jordan.  These cities were inhabited by the Levites and it was well known in the land’s culture that people who had committed capital sin could seek refuge from those wanting to kill him out of vengeance.  These were not cities where murderers ran to escape judgement, but where people who had sinned would receive judgement that was just under the Law that God had established with His people.

These were places that people felt safe and secure from the injustice of the world.  King David spent many nights in Hebron, one of these cities, and wrote about a concept that blew people’s minds.  He wrote about how the ultimate “place of refuge” was not in a particular city or geographical area, like everyone understood it to be, but that it was in God (Yahweh)!

We are all broken and insecure.  We naturally want to find something to put our security in, such as financial stability or relationship.  Even drugs are sought out because they dull the dark, menacing realities of life.  Some people look to themselves for security.  They look to themselves to bring in enough money by working as hard as they can.  They conform the way they look to the culturally determined body image in order to find security in various relationships.

We are all fearful creatures, looking for freedom and rest.  We all fear injustice.  We are all insecure, in need of a place of refuge.

Where do we find these things?

I believe that we were created to be free from fear and insecurity and that the only way we can be completely and undeniably free these things, is to approach the One who created us.

So may you relinquish your fears of death, sickness, poverty, failure, and rejection to the One who made you…so that you may experience a place of refuge that no man can destroy or bring to ruins.

Kazakhstan Reflections Part 4 - A Father for the Fatherless

 
I stared out of our car’s window as we sped along the country road; in the foreground was the country road that passed by as a grey and brown blur.  Further out, fields stretched into the distance; small plants appeared as specks of green mingled amongst the brown of the earth.  In the distance dark mountains loomed, their white tops hidden within clouds that gave evidence to rising air. It was early in the day and the sun had become increasingly hot.  Our western white skin which was more accustomed to humidity rather than potency.  We were on our way to the first destination of the trip: an orphanage in a nearby city.  I had never seen an orphanage before, so right from the get-go I knew that this was going to be a very unique opportunity and experience.  At that time, I wasn’t aware of how orphanages operated in other countries let alone in Kazakhstan.  I had no clue what to expect other than children. 

As we entered the grounds of the orphanage, my heart rate quickened.  It stood behind a small group of trees, but as the building came into view it revealed several floors of windows.  The first thing I noted was how it didn’t look like what I thought an orphanage looked like (why I thought it would look like Oliver Twist’s orphanage, I have no idea).

We began to set up our instruments on a section of pavement wedged between the side of the building and a fence.  The wind was of moderate strength (blowing a fine dust around us) and the trees provided shade, both of these things gave us relief from the heat of the powerful sun.  I found myself thinking, I have come thousands of kilometres, over several seas and countries, to this place, to meet these people and serve them, to love them…wow.
 
I quickly found out what an orphanage is supposed to look like.  Our band was setup and ready to play, but we were told to wait.  Minutes later, bells rang and dozens upon dozens of children came outside and stood before us.  I was shocked, amazed, terrified.  Everything happened so quickly.  We were given the signal to play and before long, the show finished with our team’s drama.

That day I realized that an orphanage is represented by the faces of the children that live in it.  These children are unquestionably valuable and precious to God, but to the world they are not viewed as such.

In the modern era, the world has changed and still changes with great speed.  Families don’t have the same type of pressures upon them as they did in the pre-industrial age, but all families still have some form of pressure (some more than others).  Kazakhstan is not as wealthy a country as Canada or the United States.  A result of this is that some parents cannot afford to keep their children, so instead they give them to orphanages.  These children are raised and schooled by the orphanages and occasionally, their parents will come by to meet with them.  Other children are abandoned completely.

Adoption is not necessarily viewed as a positive thing either.  Many do not want to adopt because they would rather have a child of their own.  This could be said to be a western mindset as well and, I would suggest, a mindset that permeates every country at some level or another.


The concert ended and everyone began initiating conversations or packing up.  As I was wrapping up a bundle of cords a small group of boys came up to me, one of them holding a soccer ball. They spoke to me in Russian (which I did not understand beyond pleasantries) and luckily there was a translator nearby.  
  
“Can you play soccer with us?” they asked.    

My heart sank as I knew our time there was very limited.  I just smiled and responded, “Maybe after we are done putting these things away.”

Of the things I regret from my trip to Kazakhstan, those words I regret the most for those faces were the faces of orphans who wanted acceptance and love and in my blindness I passed them by, favouring my own agenda.  I am reminded of the illustrative list Christ gives in Matt 25 (v35,36) of the needs that require filling in the world.  In some way I feel that by passing up an opportunity to love these children, I passed an opportunity to love Christ.

The truth is that the very aspect of western culture that I despised, the elevation of time and success’ value over the value of human relationships, was a part of me as well.  All of the anger that I felt towards my own culture, my own society, my own Church…it rested upon my shoulders and I became humbled by the realization of my own blindness and hypocrisy.  That realization changed the way I perceived myself.

I understand that people reading this will most likely never be changed by my words. That is because the reflection of my experiences can only appeal to the experiences that individual people have had in their lives.  If you have never experienced the emptiness that is caused by abandonment, then you cannot full grasp what is it like to be an orphan; however, I believe that all of us who know Christ know what it is like to be spiritual orphans and what it is like to find an adopted parent in our Father who has taken us as His children!

I hope that my words make you realize the emptiness that exists in this world, because when we understand our incompleteness and imperfection, we can then move beyond it to the Completion and the Perfection…