Looking For Peace

The Journey

           The man stumbled over a loose rock and nearly fell.  Only his grip on the donkey’s reins kept him from succumbing to gravity.  The terrain was treacherous, and he was exhausted from struggling for hours to keep his footing sure.  His feet felt slick in his sandals, and he knew it was more than just sweat which moistened his skin.  He could feel every blister, both those that had already ruptured and the newcomers recently formed.  His back and shoulders ached from the effort of coercing the stubborn animal to follow him.  His legs felt like jelly.  His hands were scraped raw by the rope, but blissfully numb to dull the pain.

The man quickly glanced back at the donkey’s passenger to see if he had upset her balance.  His betrothed gave him a tired yet confident smile.  It was a confidence the man did not share nor did he believe he was worthy of.  If only she knew how terrified he was on the inside.  If only she knew how much uncertainty and anger waged a calamitous battle with trust and love in his mind.  Schooling his face to tranquility and his mind to stillness, he smiled back at her encouragingly.  Turning his attention once again to the path before them, he began to reflect on the impossible, unbelievable events which had brought him to this place.

The man remembered well the morning he had awoken, cold sweat drenching his body, from the dream.  The dream of dreams.  The vision of visions.  The encounter in which The Lord had spoken to him.  He wasn’t sure he could ever forget the shining glory of the angel who had delivered the unlikely instructions: that he was to go ahead with his original plan to marry the young woman who was now riding behind him.  He hadn’t dared to argue with the angel of the Lord.  But his mind, both during the dream and after he had awoken, boiled with questions.  How could he possibly take her as his wife when she had been so blatantly, so obviously, so publicly unfaithful to him.  He cast a quick glance back over his shoulder at the bulge in her abdomen and quickly averted his eyes.  He remembered well the feelings of hurt and betrayal that had threatened to overwhelm his senses on the day, some weeks prior to his dream, when he along with everyone else in their village, had realized the truth: that she was with child prior to marriage.

In spite of his intensely conflicting emotions, the man was above all else honorable and righteous.  Prior to his dream he had determined to divorce her quietly rather than go forward with the prescribed penalty for adultery: stoning.  And after the dream, although he was woefully unprepared to reconcile his own thoughts, one thing was clear.  The Lord had given him a command and that command he would obey, though it might cost him his financial livlihood, his friends, his family, his reputation, and if he lost his footing in these treacherous mountains one more time, his life.

The man crested the last rise as the final sparkling rays of sunlight slowly faded behind the hills in the distance.  Below him, the lights of Bethlehem twinkled like a sea of stars.  At last he had reached his destination and could register as Caesar had commanded.  He almost fell to his knees from the sheer weight of relief that surged over him like a tidal wave.  He silently thanked God for reaching his destination.  With one more furtive glance at his fiance’s very pregnant belly, he silently wondered if this Child was truly the one spoken of in the prophets as the Prince of Peace.  Could He possibly straighten out the mess that this life had become?  Would the man finally find the peace on earth he was looking for?

The Birth

                The man stood like a stone sentinel upon the outcropping of rock.  Above him the night sky was clear and still.  The stars stood out in stark contrast against the sable backdrop of infinity which covered the earth like a blanket.  Below him in the valley the peaceful sounds of his charges soothed his ears.  Even in the darkness he could easily pick out the sea of what looked like cotton spread out below him.  If cotton, then living cotton.  His weathered face creased in a smile as the distant sound of a newborn lamb’s bleating floated to his ears, riding the gust of wind which suddenly blew against him and threatened to rip his cloak from his shoulders.

                The man’s momentary smile faded as he once again resumed his motionless vigil and considered the options before him.  There was just no way around it that he could see.  The raiders last month had left him with half of the herd, half of his family’s food, and all of a mountainous and virtually unpayable debt to his employers who were now bereft of fifty percent of their investment.  He thought of his young son, born just three short years ago.  What would his life be like if he as well as the rest of his brothers and sisters had to grow up as indentured servants due to the failure of their father to do his job?  He glanced across to the outcrop his younger brother had chosen as a perch for the night.  Just beyond him was the man’s eldest son, sharing for the first time tonight in the male responsibilities of keeping watch over the flock.  What would happen to all of them because he had been derelict in his duty?  The man’s tortured thoughts taunted him endlessly.

                Suddenly, as if ten thousand bonfires had abruptly burst into flame in front of him, the night sky erupted in a blaze of light.  The man toppled backwards off of his rock, sight completely taken for several seconds as his eyes struggled with adjusting to the incredible brilliance on display before him.  With his vision gradually clearing and shapes starting to come into focus once again, he realized there was someone standing a few yards in front of him who had not been there before.  His addled mind screamed at him that there was something wrong with what he was seeing.  Abruptly it dawned on him what his senses had been trying to work out; the figure in front of him was standing in mid-air at least 20 feet off the ground.  It appeared to be a human male, clothed in purest white, with a gentle smile and a calm demeanor.  This could be nothing other than an angel of the Lord.  But it was the angel’s words, spoken in a serene and melodious voice, which held the man spellbound. 

“Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people; for today in the city of David there has been born for you a savior, who is Christ the Lord.  This will be a sign for you: you will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”  All at once the air over the valley was filled with an uncountable host of angels, stretching as far as sight could travel; an impossibly vast army of unfathomable size.  With a thunderous roar the man had only heard equaled in his youth when he had visited the great sea, the angelic multitude burst into spontaneous song: “Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among men with whom He is pleased.”

As suddenly as they had come the angels vanished, leaving the valley covered in a silence that was unnaturally still after the supernatural display which had just occurred.  Tottering to his feet, the man stumbled toward his son and brother.  A flame of hope had suddenly leaped into existence in his mind.  Could this be the answer to his prayers?  Could this savior the angels had spoken of rescue him from his financial dilemma?  Spurring the others on before him, the man hurried back to the tents to awaken his family.  He had to go and see this baby the angels had spoken of.  Would the man finally find the peace on earth he was looking for?

The Visit

                The man gazed intently through the sighting holes of his astrolabe.  He nodded to himself satisfactorily.  He and his companions were right on course and schedule.  Tomorrow would mark the end of their long journey.  He ducked back into their spacious silk tent and eased his body down onto the pillows arranged on the floor.  He relaxed his tired muscles with a sigh and studied the astrological tables spread out before him.  They had been traveling for many months.  It had been a difficult journey, lacking most of the amenities he was used to at home in his palace.  He thought back to their recent meeting with King Herod.  “Go and search carefully for the Child; and when you have found Him, report to me, so that I too may come and worship Him.”, the king had decreed.  The man couldn’t quite put a finger on it, but something in the king’s demeanor had seemed off.  His colleagues had agreed with him.  And the dreams they had shared the night after seeing Herod had confirmed their suspicions that the king was not to be trusted.  The man schooled his thoughts to stillness and sank into the abyss of sleep in preparation for the culmination of their journey on the morrow.

                Early the next morning the man and his associates made their way slowly through the town to the house where they had been advised that the Child and his parents resided.  With trembling hands they knocked on the door.  A grizzled and rather careworn Jew greeted them.  After explaining who they were and their purpose for coming, he hesitantly allowed them into the house.  The man and his colleagues eagerly followed.  They had been waiting for this moment for so long and had prepared so many mental images of how this meeting would play itself out.  But nothing could have prepared them for the reality which greeted them.

                A small Child of perhaps one or two years of age sat calmly, almost expectantly, upon His mother’s lap.  The man had seen small children before, although not of his own issue.  But this Child was different than anything else he had ever experienced.  The toddler gazed at them with a penetrating stare completely out of place on His otherwise juvenile features.  The man felt like his body was pierced through with a stake and his soul was laid out, raw and tender, exposed for all to see its many faults and secret evils.  The Child uttered no sound, made no move, but just looked.  And in that look the man felt more completely undone than at any other time in his long life.  His thoughts flashed to the Hebrew scriptures he had studied in order to determine the location of this meeting.  He reflected upon the ancient prophet Isaiah and his response upon seeing a vision of God in His throne room.  The man suddenly, in a manner vastly more profound than if he had read it in a book, understood completely how the old prophet must have felt.  Almost without conscious thought he felt his body imitating that of Isaiah; his knees hit the floor first, and then the rest of his body and with more humility and submission than he had ever thought possible, he bowed down and worshipped the King of kings and Lord of lords with all of his might.

                After presenting the Child with their gifts of gold, frankincense, and myrrh, and departing for home, the man and his associates traveled in complete silence for awhile, none of them willing to break into the ruminations of the others.  As he rode, the man thought again of the ancient Hebrew prophecies and he wondered, with the Child so small now, how long would it take for Him to establish His kingdom, and would he and his friends still be alive when it happened?  Would the man finally find the peace on earth he was looking for?

                                                          

  

The Death

                The man idly toyed with his sword, passing it back and forth from one hand to the other.  He paid no mind to the fearful looks of the Jews nearby.  He ignored the occasional screams and moans of the dying men behind him.  He pretended not to notice the peculiar stench which always accompanied the specter of impending death.  Crucifixions were boring work, there was no doubt about it.  Sure, the build-up to it had its fair share of entertainment.  The scourgings were usually fun.  He and his fellow soldiers often gambled over who could inflict the most damage to the condemned person’s body, and of course competition was always engaging.  This one had been an exceptional contest.  The man spared a glance behind him at the three crosses erected on this cursed hilltop.  The central cross held what was left of something only passingly recognizable as a human body.  The scourging crew had worked this one over particularly hard, ripping huge chunks of flesh from both the front and back of his body.  They had perhaps gotten a little carried away this time, caught up in almost a frenzy of excitement.  But after all, he was just a filthy Jew, and a condemned one at that, so who really cared?

                But the real problem with crucifixions were that they took so long.  There was just nothing to do after getting the prisoner nailed to the cross and mounting it in the ground.  The rabble was almost always too frightened to do anything worth suppressing.  And the blasted convicts usually took forever to actually die.  Granted, that was kind of the point.  But knowing all that didn’t curb the monotony one bit.

                A few yards away the rest of the cohort was involved in a dicing game.  They appeared to be playing for the clothes of the middle prisoner.  But the man didn’t feel like dicing.  For one thing this unnatural darkness which had obscured the sun a few hours ago was really getting on his nerves and giving him a headache.  All he really wanted was to get this detail over with and get on with his weekend.  His favorite tavern in the city was calling his name and he was particularly thirsty today for some reason.  The man needed a few drinks to soothe his aching head.

     For something to do, on a whim, he turned to look at the soon to be corpses.  There was nothing special about the two men on the other two crosses.  They hadn’t suffered a scourging and were in various states of the dying process, as normal.  But the man in the middle, there was something different about Him.  True, He was barely recognizable as a man with His face completely disfigured, chunks of flesh missing all over His body, and covered seemingly in rivers of blood.  But in spite of that, the man noticed something about this prisoner.  He had lost count of the number of crucifixions he had taken part in and he was quite good at gauging the level of pain a person was currently suffering.  This one had suffered more physical abuse and mutilation than any he had ever seen.  But even with all of that, the man hanging there and slowly dying seemed to be in more agony than could be explained by His physical wounds.  Most prisoners became partially accustomed to the pain after a while, the mind working to block some of it out.  But this one’s pain seemed to be actually increasing rather than decreasing.  He was literally writhing on the cross, what was left of His face contorting and twisting in a level of agony that the man usually saw during the peak of the worst scourgings.  Suddenly, without warning, the prisoner cried out in a voice louder and more powerful than any man in His condition had a right to, “My God, my God, why have You forsaken me?”  Shocked to stillness, the man simply stood and stared.  He was still staring a few minutes later when, after taking some wine on a sponge that had been lifted up to Him, He cried out again.  This time, impossibly, He was even louder than the last.  “It is finished!”, He proclaimed.  And then, with an inhuman level of calm and a measured pace, He lowered His head down to His chest and became still.

The man was transfixed.  This was not the way crucified people died.  They did not suddenly muster up the lung capacity to cry out not once but twice and then seem to just decide to surrender to death.  A thought came to him.  It floated out of nowhere into his consciousness.  It began to take shape in his mind.  It captivated him.  It refused to be ignored.  Without realizing he was speaking the man gave voice to this thought that was now more sure and solid and real and firm than any thought he had ever had in his life.  “Truly this man was the Son of God!”, he uttered involuntarily.  With his mind too clouded to think straight he stumbled away from the crosses in the direction of the city.  Perhaps those drinks would clear his head from this unwelcome fog which had overtaken him.  Gaining strength of will from his determination to drown out what he had just witnessed he increased his pace away from that awful hill.  Would the man finally find the peace on earth he was looking for?

     

                          

The Ascension

                The man’s eyes watered from the brightness of the sky.  His neck muscles ached from holding his head in this unnatural position.  His mouth grew dry.  But he refused to move.  He was desperate to keep his eyes trained on the Lord rising into the air as long as possible.  He was only a speck now, and the man couldn’t even be sure he was really even seeing Him any longer.  But he held his gaze heavenward.  He had always been a stubborn man, headstrong and impetuous.  It had gotten him into trouble on a number of occasions.  But this time he didn’t care.  He was determined to keep looking until the Lord was completely out of sight.

                Abruptly, with his peripheral vision, he became aware of two men in white clothing standing beside he and his brothers.  They said “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into the sky?  This Jesus, who has been taken up from you into heaven, will come in just the same way as you have watched Him go into heaven.”  Sheepishly, the man lowered his gaze.  All thoughts of his recent betrayal as well as his many failures before that vanished in a clarity of purpose that consumed his senses.  “Alright then, let’s get back to Jerusalem like the Lord said.  We need to wait for the Helper He said would come to us.”  Without waiting for an answer from his companions he turned and began walking in the direction of the city.  He was anxious to get to work.  Undoubtedly, after a few months the Lord would return to establish His kingdom.  Then would the man finally find the peace on earth he was looking for?

The Hatred

                The man gazed out of his living room window as the cold December snow spiraled lazily to the ground in ever increasing volume.  The fire on the hearth to his left was blazing, fighting back the chill in the air outside.  His wispy white hair curled haphazardly around his rheumy blue eyes.  His gnarled and age spotted hands carefully held his mug of cocoa so as not to spill the hot liquid on either himself or the furniture.  An occasional car drove slowly past the house and out of sight down the street.  The man sat.  And he remembered.

                His had been a life mostly devoid of peace.  He had barely known his mother, who had died when he was only four.  A despairing father turned to alcohol instead of his child when he needed him the most.  The drinking grew steadily worse as the years went by and then the abuse came.  The small, fractured, and dysfunctional family attended church on Sundays and dwelled in the blackest pits of despair the rest of the week.  And so the man was introduced early to the concept of pain and the absence of love.  When his father died from liver failure just before his 19^th birthday no one mourned him, least of all the young man.  Seeking to flee his childhood demons he enlisted in the Army.  There he learned that the horrors of alcoholism were nothing compared to the horrors of war.  Seeing men, many of them his friends, torn to pieces or robbed of their physical abilities or stripped of any mental capacity soured him to the notion that life held any sanctity at all.  How could it, when it was fragile and so easily taken away?

                After the war, the man got married as most young soldiers did upon returning home.  He got a job working for the railroad and began to grow a family.  He thought that perhaps now he might finally wrest a semblance of peace out of this hellish existence on earth.  But then, his illusions were shattered just as his young daughter’s spine was shattered by the four thousand pound vehicular weapon wielded by yet another drunken idiot who fate had allowed to live.  The man had almost no memory of the fateful night almost half a century ago now, when he first saw his daughter in a coma, wrapped in bandages, with tubes running into her from every direction; the only sign of life the incessant bleating of the heart rate monitor beside the hospital bed.  He had stumbled out of that place in a blind rage, found the driver of the car who had just been released on bail, and bringing all of his military training to bear, had beaten the man to death with his bare hands.

                The man passed the next four decades observing the continued decline of human civilization behind the walls of a prison.  He watched as America went to war first in Korea, then Vietnam.  He watched as millions died at the hands of the Khmer Rouge in Cambodia.  He watched as millions more perished from starvation under Mao Zedong’s Communist government in China.  He watched as East Germans, attempting to escape to the west, were gunned down by their own people.  He watched as Presidents were assassinated, riots were started, black men were lynched, murders uncounted were perpetrated, rapes unconscionable were committed, and corruption ran rampant like a wildfire in a drought parched forest.

                When the man was finally released from prison he found that his former wife wanted nothing to do with him.  His paralyzed daughter, poisoned by the advice of her mother, refused to even see him.  And so he sat and continued to watch the world pass by, growing more bitter with each passing year.  His most hated time of year was the month of December.  He was annually infuriated by the extra crowds of mindless, lemming-like shoppers he had to contend with in stores and the hordes of inept drivers he had to dodge on the streets.  He was incensed at the aura of joy and happiness that seemed to pervade people’s senses like a group psychosis during this time of the year.  But the man was, without doubt, the most hatefully roused to fury by the grinning preachers he would occasionally and accidentally stumble across as he rapidly changed channels on his television.  Every so often, out of spite, he would stop and listen critically for a few moments as they blathered on about Jesus and peace on earth and all of that rot.  He remembered well the same lies that were foisted upon him as a child.  Life had taught him better than that.  Peace was a myth that weak-minded fools clung to so as to escape the miserable reality of their lives.  The man had become convinced decades ago that he would never find the peace on earth he was looking for.

The Truth

                People throughout history have sought for peace in their lives.  Some have done it through the acquisition of wealth and power.  Others have retreated from the world and gone into seclusion.  Still others have used suicide as a misguided means of escape.  At the time surrounding the birth of Jesus some had the misguided notion that the promised Messiah would bring them a material peace and freedom from whatever troubles beset them in their lives, be they relational, financial, political, or otherwise.

                But the truth is that a true material level of peace will not be possible on this earth until the Messiah, King Jesus, comes a second time.  The scriptures tell us in Revelation chapter 20 that when He comes again Christ will establish a literal physical kingdom which He will rule over unopposed.  But until that time there can be no material peace because of the presence of sin and the corruption that all of creation is groaning under, as Romans chapter 8 makes clear.  So what was the purpose of the first advent of the Son of God, if not to bring peace to this earth?  The answer is, quite simply, that He came to bring peace in our hearts.

                A relationship with Jesus Christ and the indwelling presence of the Holy Spirit is the only way to experience peace that transcends this life and extends into eternity.  Sure, someone can attain a level of happiness here and now through a marriage relationship, philanthropic efforts, financial success, or other means.  But none of that persists past the point of physical death.  As Matthew 6 reveals:

1. 19"Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. 20"But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys, and where thieves do not break in or steal;…

And King Solomon in the book of Ecclesiastes, with all of his wisdom and his riches and his incessant pursuit of physical pleasures, when he finally came to the end of himself, realized the truth.  All material possessions are vanity.  All of man's ambition is meaningless.  All of life apart from God is a chasing after the wind.

                But in contrast to this bleak picture, we find the soothing words of almighty God.  He assures us that whoever believes in His son will not perish, but will have eternal life.  And what is this sort of life?  What is it that we have to look forward to?  Jesus said in John 17 that eternal life is:

1. 3"that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent."

And why would we want to spend the rest of eternity getting to know someone?  Because the Psalmist says that the loving-kindness of God never ceases and that His compassion never fails and that they are new every morning!  God is so infinitely vast in His being that we will spend forever experiencing Him and it will never grow old.  It will never grow stale.  It will never be burdensome.  It will never fade.  The experience of knowing God is a never ending cornucopia of delights and pleasures and ecstasies.  

               And we can begin that most delightful of journeys now!  We don't have to wait another day.  If we confess with our mouths that Jesus is Lord (which means placing Him at the center of our lives and surrendering our petty ambitions to be joyfully swallowed by His divine will) and believe in our hearts that God raised Him from the dead (thus placing our hope for the future not in ourselves and our own abilities but rather in the promise of resurrection and glorification to come) then we will be saved!  This is the only way to experience true peace in this life and on this earth.  And not this present existence only but for all of eternity.  Will you place your faith and trust in Jesus right now and find the peace that you are looking for?

"Old School" Regeneration

Recently a good friend posed two questions to me for discussion.  They are: “Were the OT saints regenerated in the Old Testament?” and “Is it Regeneration then Conversion or Conversion then Regeneration?”  Here is my attempt to answer those questions from scripture for (hopefully) your reading enjoyment.

The two questions are obviously linked by the parallel element of Regeneration.  But I believe the first question is the more difficult of the two to answer adequately.  So I will spend the bulk of my time dealing with it.  My answer to the second question will be much shorter because it will rely on the evidence already presented in my attempt to answer the first. 

There are two foundational elements which informed my thinking on this topic from the beginning.  They are what I believe to be the best definitions of Regeneration available.  The first is of divine origin while the second is man-made.

Titus 3:4-7 - ⁴ But when the kindness of God our Savior and His love for mankind appeared, ⁵ He saved us, not on the basis of deeds which we have done in righteousness, but according to His mercy, by the washing of regeneration and renewing by the Holy Spirit, ⁶ whom He poured out upon us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, ⁷ so that being justified by His grace we would be made heirs according to the hope of eternal life.

Regeneration: In theology, new birth by the grace of God; that change by which the will and natural enmity of man to God and His law are subdued, and a principle of supreme love to God and His law, or holy affections, are implanted in the heart. (Noah Webster)

1. Did the Old Testament saints experience regeneration?  I believe that they did.  My argument is based on two key factors: the logic that flows from scripture and the example of King David.  I will deal with the logic first.  In the New Testament regeneration is concurrent with faith and repentance.  It signifies spiritual life being granted where previously there had been only death.  We can see this element of death and rebellion in Romans 3:10-18 - ¹⁰ as it is written,

“There is none righteous, not even one;
¹¹ There is none who understands,
There is none who seeks for God;
¹² All have turned aside, together they have become useless;
There is none who does good,
There is not even one.”
¹³ “Their throat is an open grave,
With their tongues they keep deceiving,”
“The poison of asps is under their lips”;
¹⁴ “Whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness”;
¹⁵ “Their feet are swift to shed blood,
¹⁶ Destruction and misery are in their paths,
¹⁷ And the path of peace they have not known.”
¹⁸ “There is no fear of God before their eyes.”

In addition to that passage, 1 Corinthians 2:14 reads thusly – “¹⁴ But a natural man does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are foolishness to him; and he cannot understand them, because they are spiritually appraised.”  Romans 8:6-8 further clarifies the condition of man – “⁶ For the mind set on the flesh is death, but the mind set on the Spirit is life and peace, ⁷ because the mind set on the flesh is hostile toward God; for it does not subject itself to the law of God, for it is not even able to do so, ⁸ and those who are in the flesh cannot please God.”

In contrast to the above passages which paint a picture of hopelessness we see the New Testament authors expounding the element of faith.  Ephesians 2:8-9 reveals saving faith as both a gift from God rather than from ourselves as well as the primary vehicle through which salvation is given: “⁸ For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; ⁹ not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.”   This passage along with many others on faith securely interlink both the regeneration spoken of in Titus 3:4-7 above and its metaphor of new birth spoken of in John 3:3 (“³ Jesus answered and said to him, “Truly, truly, I say to you, unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God.”)  with the element of faith as not the only, but certainly two of the essential components of salvation.

With faith established as a critical element of restoration with God we must examine whether any Old Testament saints demonstrated this kind of faith.  They certainly did.  In the later chapters of the book of Hebrews we see a stirring account of the giants of faith from the Old Testament.  This list is prefaced by the following statement in 10:38-11:2 – “³⁸ But My righteous one shall live by faith; And if he shrinks back, My soul has no pleasure in him. ³⁹ But we are not of those who shrink back to destruction, but of those who have faith to the preserving of the soul.” 11 Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.² For by it the men of old gained approval.  This is clearly pointing to these people as having the faith which results in approval from God.  The author of Hebrews even goes so far as to say that Noah “became an heir of the righteousness which is according to faith.”  There is no disputing the fact that these men and women were people of faith.  But the question remains, were they regenerated?  I believe they were regenerated, although lacking a precise theological term for the experience and a full explanation of the grace God was extending to them.  It is the only logical conclusion to be drawn from the fact that faith and regeneration are inextricably linked.  If a person has faith then they have experienced regeneration.  If they experience regeneration then they will show it through faith.

Further, it must be clarified that salvation has only ever come via grace.  Even under the Mosaic Law, escape from the wrath of God was never granted on the basis of the keeping of the Law.  The prophet Samuel makes this clear in 1 Samuel 15:22 when he admonishes Saul: “Has the Lord as much delight in burnt offerings and sacrifices as in obeying the voice of the Lord?  Behold, to obey is better than sacrifice, and to heed than the fat of rams.  Rather than a means of obtaining salvation the Law served rather as an illustration of exactly what happens when man views God’s benchmarks as being obtainable by works.  2 Corinthians 3:5-6 illustrates this point: “⁵ Not that we are adequate in ourselves to consider anything as coming from ourselves, but our adequacy is from God,⁶ who also made us adequate as servants of a new covenant, not of the letter but of the Spirit; for the letter kills, but the Spirit gives life.”  A powerful example of this element of salvation apart from the Law is that of King David.  When confronted in 2 Samuel 12 by Nathan the prophet after his horrific sin with Bathsheba and Uriah David immediately responds with the following statement in verse 13: “I have sinned against the Lord.”  Nathan responds, with the full authority of the Lord, just as immediately: “The Lord also has taken away your sin; you shall not die.”  There was no sacrifice.  There was no observance of the “letter” of the Mosaic Law.  There was only David’s contrite and humble heart of faith in his God.  And when we consider that the wages earned by sin is death as explained in Romans 6:23 it seems clear that God was graciously absolving David of his guilt purely on the basis of his faith.  To add to the already overwhelming evidence we find David in Psalm 51 pouring his heart out to the Lord in a prayer of confession and repentance.  In verse 11 of this famous Psalm David penned the following words: “Do not cast me away from Your presence and do not take Your Holy Spirit from me.”  The Hebrew word used here is ruwach (roo’-akh) and is the same word using in Genesis 1 to describe the “Spirit of God” hovering above the waters that had just been created.  Admittedly, ruwach can be used to denote simply wind, breath, or mind; but in context we must assume that in both places it is referring specifically and uniquely to the Holy Spirit.  And calling once again upon the foundational passage in Titus 3 the conclusion is that the Holy Spirit had been poured out on King David in the act of regeneration, Old Testament style.

But how can this be?  Doesn’t salvation, and by extension regeneration, come only through the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ?  Yes, it certainly does now as evidenced by the teaching of Peter in Acts 4:10-12: “¹⁰ let it be known to all of you and to all the people of Israel, that by the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene, whom you crucified, whom God raised from the dead—by this name this man stands here before you in good health. ¹¹ He is the stone which was rejected by you, the builders, but which became the chief corner stone. ¹² And there is salvation in no one else; for there is no other name under heaven that has been given among men by which we must be saved.”  But we must remember that God historically has revealed Himself through a sequential process of ever increasing understanding which builds upon that which came before and adds to it without contradicting any of it.  The theological term for this is Progressive Revelation.  The best and most obvious example of this is Christ Himself.  God first foreshadows the Messiah in Genesis 3:15 when He pronounces judgment on Satan: “And I will put enmity between you and the woman, and between your seed and her seed; He shall bruise you on the head, and you shall bruise him on the heel.”  He then continues to preface His coming through the Law and the Prophets, from the Bronze snake that Moses “lifted up” in the wilderness to the suffering servant seen in Isaiah 53.  But the full revelation of God’s plan of ultimate redemption was not seen until the first advent of Jesus when He was incarnated in human flesh.  This is Progressive Revelation.  So with this in mind, we must understand that each generation of humanity was only held to the standard that had been revealed to them at that time.  Salvation has always been accomplished by the work of the Holy Spirit through the medium of faith expressed as belief in the word of God.  Prior to the incarnation, the word of God was limited to that which was spoken verbally by the prophets and that which was written down.  This word was life giving even before the Messiah came, as in Psalm 19:8 – “The precepts of the Lord are right, rejoicing the heart;  The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the eyes.”  Then, according to the principle of Progressive Revelation, the word or logos of God was expanded to include the Word of God in the person of Jesus.  John 1:1-4 puts it this way: “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.² He was in the beginning with God. ³ All things came into being through Him, and apart from Him nothing came into being that has come into being. ⁴ In Him was life, and the life was the Light of men.”  Thus prior to the coming of Jesus faith and salvation, and by association regeneration, were all possible, based purely and solely upon faith in His word and extended to mankind by His grace.

2. Is it Regeneration then Conversion or Conversion then Regeneration?  The answer to this question lies in all of the passages used above to answer the first.  Conversion is understood as the expression of the twin gifts of faith and repentance whereby a person is made right in the sight of God.  But faith and repentance cannot be granted to a dead person because a dead person cannot respond to stimuli.  They must be made alive in order to react appropriately.  And Romans 3:10-18, 1 Corinthians 2:14, and Romans 8:6-8 make it abundantly clear that all men begin in a state of death.  This is where Regeneration comes into play.  Regeneration must occur prior to Conversion so that the soul which was formerly dead and hostile to God can respond out of the newness of life that is now being experienced for the first time.

To summarize, I believe the bible teaches that Saving Faith is a primary component of Conversion and is a gift given by God to enable a person to seek after, treasure, and ultimately exalt Him.  Such a gift of grace would be ineffective if given to a spiritually dead person because they lack any capacity to respond due to their lifeless spiritual condition.  Therefore, Saving Faith must always be preceded by Regeneration.  Because of this necessary sequence of events, I believe the Old Testament saints were indeed regenerated prior to receiving their saving faith in the word of God.  Although the bible does not explicitly state this, I believe it is logically implicit in the structure and nature of Salvation that is taught in the New Testament.

Lies

A lament for the lies

That have poisoned the minds

Twisted the souls

Corrupted the design

It began in the Garden

With a pernicious question

Did God really say?

Do you ask it still today?

A lament for the lies

To our girls and our boys

Perverted the unity

Intended to reflect trinity

Men are to dominate

Might will make right

Women are objects

For the bedroom at night

A lament for the lies

To our sons and our daughters

Reversed their roles

Split them asunder

Males are buffoons

Best keep them from rule

Females are better

Fit the man with fetters

A lament for the lies

That have polluted our churches

Filled up the pews

With spiritual corpses

Come and taste me

The world, it pleads

And with our mouths we bring praise

While our actions, malaise

author unimportant

Every Parking Lot a Mission Field

I would like to tell you a story.  It’s about two men, a savior, and a parking lot.  This story is about fear, courage, and submission.  It’s about spiritual warfare.  It’s about fitting one’s feet with the shoes of the gospel of peace, throwing the belt of truth around one’s waist, firmly fastening the breastplate of righteousness and the helmet of salvation to one’s body, raising the shield of faith to deflect the arrows of Satan, and finally counter-attacking with the sword of the spirit which is the word of God.  This story is about doing all of the above and then marching boldly behind the power of God to hurl our attack straight into the jaws of the enemy, who “prowls around like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour.”  Do you consider yourself too old or too sophisticated for stories?  I earnestly hope not.  Let me begin.

As I walked outside through the door of a local restaurant this afternoon, I held it open for the man behind me.  As we proceeded together into the parking lot, he said “It sure is warmer here than where I live.”  Immediately my natural inclination flared to life in my brain.  You see, I am not at all a social person.  I have learned to overcome this in some situations, such as at church or at work.  But still, my default mode of operation is to be silent and withdrawn.  So when this man made his statement my immediate disposition was to make some sort of friendly but terse response and then head to my car to leave.  But something stopped me.  I sensed this was an opportunity for conversation.  And although conversations with strangers are one of my least favorite activities, my Lord and savior Jesus Christ, has commanded me to make disciples.  I cannot make a disciple without witnessing to someone about Jesus through conversation, because the word of God says “How then will they call on Him in whom they have not believed?  How will they believe in Him whom they have not heard?  And how will they hear without a preacher?  How will they preach unless they are sent?  Just as it is written, “How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news of good things!”  So I swallowed my initial response and began to engage this man in conversation.

            I learned that he was from Rainelle.  He is an older man, 61, and complained of problems with his shoulders.  He shared with me that he takes care of his elderly mother, who has some level of mental deterioration and cannot care for herself.  We commiserated together about how our bodies break down all too quickly and when we were younger we did not appreciate this fact. 

At two points in the conversation I attempted to drop “bait” in the “water” by mentioning the bible and the name of Jesus.  My bait went unnoticed.  He gave no response whatsoever.  So I thought to myself “He’s either ignoring me on purpose or it went over his head.”  I could see the potential for my opportunity to slip away, as it has done so many other times due to my own lack of courage.  I could feel the tugging of my flesh urging me to let it go and get on with my day.  But how can I call myself a Christian, which literally means “little Christ”, if I don’t act like Christ?  And do we ever see Jesus shrinking from an opportunity to preach repentance and the coming of the kingdom of God to those He encountered?  I think not!  So with these thoughts flying through my brain at about Mach 5, and desperate to not once again fail my Lord as I have done so many times before, I decided to throw my ridiculous caution to the wind and go for broke.  After all, I reasoned, I will most likely never see this man again so what have I got to lose and why in the world am I hesitating?  So I plunged in and asked him if I could pray for him.  He said yes, the next time I prayed I could pray for him and his mom.  I told him I prayed every day and then I asked him if he had a relationship with Jesus Christ.

This simple and direct question, only eight words, opened the floodgates.  He began to talk about what I recognized as a very cultural perception of being right with God by doing good deeds and being moral.  He spoke about how he worries too much and becomes frantic in trying to care for his mother.  I was able to assure him that, although Jesus never promised that we would have easy lives, he did promise that we would experience peace through knowing Him.  And more importantly, I warned this man that unless he and his mother do have a relationship with Christ, they are under the wrath of God because of their sin.  I asked him if he had a bible in his home.  When he responded in the affirmative, I encouraged him to read the gospel of John.  He asked me to have my pastor pray for him.  I assured him that I would do more than that; I would have my entire church pray for him and I would be praying for him daily.  He allowed me to pray with him right there in the parking lot and accepted my telephone number which I encouraged him to use.

So my friends, I have three instructions for you, if you are willing to receive them.

1.       Don’t you dare think positive thoughts about me.  This was not about me, it was about Jesus Christ and the power of the Holy Spirit at work in me.  As I described, something as simple as having a 10 minute conversation is a major hurdle for me to overcome.  But truly “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.”

2.       Please know that if you struggle to share your faith you are not alone.  We are all in this together and many of us share the same or similar struggles.  But through the process of being sanctified by obedience (please don’t miss that underscore; although God granted the increase Paul and Apollos were still held responsible for planting and watering) you can experience the joy that comes from being a dutiful child of your heavenly Father and you can know that “the peace of God, which surpasses all comprehension, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

3.       Please pray for Wayne Ayres, the man I met today.  His mother’s name is Laurie.  Pray that he will take my advice to read the gospel of John.  Pray that he will call me.  Above all pray that he will come to know the Lord.  Wayne desperately needs to be justified before God through the righteousness of Christ, as do all those who do not have a saving relationship with Jesus.

Let us together become a mighty army before the Lord.  You can do this!  I would be delighted to speak with anyone who needs encouragement, a spare shoulder to cry on, or a ready foot to kick you in the backside when necessary!  Peace and grace to you through God the father and our Lord Jesus Christ.

Nothing And Everything

All followers of Christ should have certain core values.  These are the philosophies, practices, and truths which together define the foundation of our worldview, or the manner in which we perceive the world around us; both the events that transpire and the nature or shape of reality which causes those events.  One such core value is Integrity.  The Elders of Daniels Bible Church have chosen to define this as “a discipline of life presented in the Scriptures, modeled by Christ, and empowered by the Holy Spirit, in order that we become blameless in all things.”  That sounds real nice, but what does it actually mean and how does one go about practicing it? 

            The answer to the first part of that question is hidden in the definition of Integrity that we are using.  The key word to focus upon is “blameless.”  It is by being blameless that we can prove our integrity.  Webster’s dictionary defines blameless as “free from guilt”.  Immediately a problem should present itself.  How can we possibly be free from guilt when every single day our own sin convicts us?  Perhaps if we had a day or two here and there that were free from sin we might possibly be able to get a grip on this elusive blamelessness.  Unfortunately, God’s word assures us that will not happen.  1 John 2:5 puts it this way; “If we say we have no sin, we deceive ourselves, and the truth is not in us.”  “Great”, we might be prone to think sarcastically, “The bible itself tells me I’m a liar if I say that I don’t sin, sin convicts me of guilt in the court room of God, and blamelessness requires me to be free from guilt.  Therefore I’m hopelessly incapable of ever being blameless and thus it is impossible for me to have integrity.  I might as well give up and stop trying.”

            If we were to think thoughts such as these we would be partially correct, but only partially.  We would be correct in the sense that we might as well give up trying to acquire integrity and blamelessness on our own.  Isaiah 64:6 makes it clear that “all our righteous deeds are like a polluted garment.”  Instead of relying on ourselves to live a blame free life we must look outside of us to the one who already did live a blame free life; the person of Jesus Christ.  Romans 3:21-22 reveals the key to our dilemma: “But now apart from the Law the righteousness of God has been manifested, being witnessed by the Law and the Prophets, even the righteousness of God through faith in Jesus Christ for all those who believe;” It is Christ’s perfect righteousness which is laid on our accounts in the sight of God at the moment we express the faith He has given us through the action of belief.  This is called justification and it is the only way to become restored to a right relationship with God.

            But we’re not discussing salvation here.  We were talking about integrity.  The truth of justification by faith in Jesus, apart from works of the law, helps us to understand how to become blameless in the first place and therefore, with the definition being used here, to have integrity.  But that doesn’t seem to help figure out how to practice this integrity on a daily basis.  In fact, it actually sounds like practicing integrity is irrelevant, since we are already seen by God as blameless.  Paul puts it this way in Romans 6:1: “What shall we say then?  Are we to continue in sin so that grace may increase?”  Said another way, our sins have been covered by Christ’s righteousness, we are already justified in God’s sight, so practical Christian living has nothing to do with any kind of practice of a blameless life full of integrity.  Luckily for us, Paul answers his own rhetorical question immediately in the next verse with the following words: “May it never be!”  And he elucidates further in verses 8-12 of the same chapter.  “Now if we have died with Christ, we believe that we shall also live with Him, knowing that Christ, having been raised from the dead, is never to die again; death no longer is master over Him.  For the death that He died, He died to sin once for all; but the life that He lives, He lives to God.  Even so consider yourselves to be dead to sin, but alive to God in Christ Jesus.  Therefore do not let sin reign in your mortal body so that you obey its lusts.”  It is a fallacy born of twisting Paul’s words to say that we don’t need to live lives characterized by integrity simply because we have the righteousness of Christ “in the bank.”  The truth is that the righteousness given to us freely as a gift and a life characterized by the evidence of that gift go hand in hand.  You can’t have one without the other.  Anyone who claims that you can is under a satanic delusion that is not consistent with the word of God.

            At ths point someone may say “Ok, ok, ok, enough already!  You’ve convinced me that integrity means blamelessness and I can be counted as blameless and thus as having integrity through faith in Christ.  But you still haven’t answered the second half of the original question; namely, how in the world do I go about practicing this?  Because I sure don’t see much of this evidence of blamelessness when I look in the mirror.  In fact, what I see is failure after failure after failure.  What you’re telling me I already have and what I see in my own life are not jiving at all.”

            The answer to this dilemma is really very simple...

Integrity has nothing to do with the magnitude of your failures, and it has everything to do with the sincerity of your repentances.

            In retrospect this should be obvious.  If justification is granted as a free gift apart from any works that we do, and if being justified grants us righteousness, blamelessness, and thus integrity, then it stands to reason that the living out of that should have very little to do with us.  I say very little because, although as Jesus said in Matthew 11:30 “My yoke is easy, and My burden is light.”, the yoke and burden is still there.  We are still required to be obedient.  But the obedience God asks of us is not born of our striving unto perfection.  Rather it is born of our sorrow and broken-heartedness over the sin that we see when we gaze at our corrupted reflection in the mirror.  This grief will be present in the heart of one who is truly born again with the spirit of almighty God living within them.  And it will absolutely cause a person to have an attitude of repentance which serves not as the means by which we obtain righteousness, blamelessness, and integrity but as the evidence that we have already been given them.

            That is how we are to practice integrity on a personal basis.  But is there another dimension of the human condition upon which these principles operate?  Yes, and it is called spiritual leadership.  When we demonstrate integrity as a proof of the righteousness and blamelessness of Christ which has been granted to us, what we are really doing is demonstrating leadership.  

            Obviously this principle applies to a husband and/or father fulfilling his role as the spiritual leader of his family.  But it has a broader application and extension to Christians from all walks of life because every believer, at some point, in some fashion, and to some degree, will be called upon to lead another human being in a spiritual capacity.  It could be an older child with younger siblings.  Or perhaps an employer with his or her employees.  Maybe a mother “training up her children in the way they should go.”  Possibly a teenager in the midst of a Christian culture increasingly seduced by the attractive façade of sin that permeates our society.  Alternatively, an authentic disciple of Christ who has an unbelieving spouse.  Or even just an older Christian who Titus charges to disciple younger ones. Regardless of your socio-economic position, if you are a follower of Jesus you will be called upon eventually to model spiritual leadership.  And when that call comes in what will be primarily put to the test is not your wit, charm, or teaching ability.  It will be your integrity that comes under the microscope, modeled here by the twin facets of blamelessness and righteousness.

            And there-in often lies our problem.  Our contorted and self-centered minds, even as believers, are often the victims of the lies spewed out by the “god of this age” (2 Cor. 4:4), the “ancient serpent, who is called the devil and Satan, the deceiver of the whole world” (Rev. 12:9).  In this case Satan will gleefully tell you that because you just completely blew it and sinned your filthy little heart out, you have no business providing leadership in the context for which it is relevant for you.  He will plant a seed of doubt.  A nagging little voice that says you’re not worthy.  An unbiblical and self-pitying conviction that you should abdicate your God-given responsibility to lead others and allow someone better qualified to take the reins.  And it is in those times of self-doubt and self-recrimination that we must learn to brand the point of this essay upon our hearts.  Again:

Integrity has nothing to do with the magnitude of your failures, and it has everything to do with the sincerity of your repentances.

            Christ Himself bought and paid for your soul on the cross.  The will of God has sovereignly placed you where He desires to use you.  And are you so small minded and self-oriented that you honestly believe that your particular flavor of sinning somehow circumvents, nullifies, or invalidates God’s choice of you to be His adopted child?  Wake up!  It’s not about you and your sin.  It’s not about you and your failures.  It’s not about how you don’t measure up.  It’s not about how others are better equipped.  If you could see inside their hearts and behind the closed doors of their homes I absolutely guarantee that you would see a tapestry of failure just as epic in scope and broad in extent as your own.  Stop making much of yourself and your part in this and start making much of God and His power which will work in and through you.

            As stated earlier, I am not saying we should gloss over our sinful failures.  On the contrary, I am advocating that we acknowledge them in the most decisive and effective method available; namely a change of mind followed by a change of action that the Bible calls genuine repentance.  Practicing this on a daily basis will result in your life becoming a model of righteous, blameless, and integrity filled spiritual leadership that will influence, impact, and exhort the people around you by pointing them to Christ through your example.

On Death Row For Christ

                Right now, approximately 7,400 miles from Daniels West Virginia, it is around 8pm in the city of Lahore, Pakistan.  44 kilometers away (about 27 miles) in Sheikhupura sits an ancient prison.  Inside, in a cell measuring 8 by 10 feet, a 47 year old woman has been living in solitary confinement for the last five years after being arrested on June 19, 2009.  Her name is Aasiya Noreen Bibi.  She is allowed out of her cell for 30 minutes per day and is permitted a one hour visit per week from her family, consisting of a husband and five children.  Aasiya is on death row, convicted by a local judge in November 2010 of blasphemy and sentenced to death by hanging.  After her conviction Aasiya’s case was immediately appealed to the high court of Lahore and she has been waiting ever since through repeated delays.

                What would cause the high court to delay for so long and so consistently?  You see, Aasiya and her family are Christians in a country where only 1.8% of the population of 186,000,000 share their faith.  In their home village of Ittan Wali they were one of only three Christian families out of 1,500.  And it was in this village where Aasiya’s troubles began.  

In her own words (WARNING - mild language is contained in the following):

That morning I got up earlier than usual, to take part in the big falsa-berry harvest. I’d been told about it by Farah, our lovely local shopkeeper. “Why don’t you go falsa picking tomorrow in that field just outside the village? You know the one; it belongs to the Nadeems, the rich family who live in Lahore. The pay is 250 rupees (ed. this is just over four U.S. dollars).”

Because it was Sunday, my husband Ashiq wasn’t working in the brickworks. While I was getting ready to go to work he was still fast asleep in the big family bed with two of our daughters, who were also worn out after a long week at school. I looked at them with love before I left the room, and thanked God for giving me such a wonderful family.

When I got to the field, around 15 women were already at work, picking away, their backs hidden by the tall bushes. It was going to be a physically exhausting day in such heat, but I needed those 250 rupees.

Some of the women greeted me with a smile. I recognized my neighbor, Musarat, who was the seamstress in my village. I gave her a little wave, but she turned back to the bushes again at once. Musarat wasn’t really an agricultural worker and I didn’t often see her in the fields, so I realized times must be hard for her family. In the end, it was just our lot to be poor, all of us.

A hard-faced woman dressed in clothes that had been mended many times came over to me with an old yellow bowl.

“If you fill the bowl you get 250 rupees,” she said without really looking at me.

I looked at the huge bowl and thought I would never finish before sunset. Looking at the other women’s bowls, I also realized mine was much bigger. They were reminding me that I’m a Christian.

The sun was beating down, and by midday it was like working in an oven. I was dripping with sweat and I could hardly think or move for the suffocating heat. In my mind, I could see the river beside my village. If only I could have jumped into that cool water!

But since the river was nowhere near, I freed myself from my bushes and walked over to the nearby well. Already I could sense the coolness rising up from the depths.

I pull up a bucketful of water and dip in the old metal cup resting on the side of the well. The cool water is all I can think of. I gulp it down and I feel better; I pull myself together.

Then I start to hear muttering. I pay no attention and fill the cup again, this time holding it out to a woman next to me who looks like she’s in pain. She smiles and reaches out . . . At exactly the moment Musarat pokes her ferrety nose out from the bush, her eyes full of hate:

“Don’t drink that water, it’s haram!”

Musarat addresses all the pickers, who have suddenly stopped work at the sound of the word “haram,” the Islamic term for anything forbidden by God.

“Listen, all of you, this Christian has dirtied the water in the well by drinking from our cup and dipping it back several times. Now the water is unclean and we can’t drink it! Because of her!”

It’s so unfair that for once I decide to defend myself and stand up to the old witch.

“I think Jesus would see it differently from Mohammed.”

Musarat is furious. “How dare you think for the Prophet, you filthy animal!”

Three other women start shouting even louder.

“That’s right, you’re just a filthy Christian! You’ve contaminated our water and now you dare speak for the Prophet! Stupid bitch, your Jesus didn’t even have a proper father, he was a bastard, don’t you know that.”

Musarat comes over as though she’s going to hit me and yells: “You should convert to Islam to redeem yourself for your filthy religion.”

I feel a pain deep inside. We Christians have always stayed silent: We’ve been taught since we were babies never to say anything, to keep quiet because we’re a minority. But I’m stubborn too and now I want to react, I want to defend my faith. I take a deep breath and fill my lungs with courage.

“I’m not going to convert. I believe in my religion and in Jesus Christ, who died on the cross for the sins of mankind. What did your Prophet Mohammed ever do to save mankind? And why should it be me that converts instead of you?”

That’s when the hatred bursts from all sides. All around me the women start screaming. One of them grabs my bowl and tips the berries into her own. Another one shoves and Musarat spits in my face with all the scorn she can manage. A foot lashes out and they push me. Even when I run home, I can still hear them complaining.

Five days later, I went to work fruit picking in another field. I’ve almost filled my bowl when I hear what sounds like a rioting crowd. I step back from my bush, wondering what’s going on, and in the distance I see dozens of men and women striding along towards our field, waving their arms in the air.

I catch the cruel eyes of Musarat. Her expression is self-righteous and full of scorn. I shiver as I suddenly realize that she hasn’t let it go. I can tell she’s out for revenge. The excited crowd are closer now; they are coming into the field and now they’re standing in front of me, threatening and shouting.

“Filthy bitch! We’re taking you back to the village! You insulted our Prophet! You’ll pay for that with your life!”  They all start yelling: “Death! Death to the Christian!”

The angry crowd is pressing closer and closer around me. I’m half lying on the ground when two men grab me by the arms to drag me away. I call out in a desperate, feeble voice:

“I haven’t done anything! Let me go, please! I haven’t done anything wrong!”

Just then someone hits me in the face. My nose really hurts and I’m bleeding. They drag me along, semi-conscious, like a stubborn donkey. I can only submit and pray that it will all stop soon. I look at the crowd, apparently jubilant that I’ve put up so little resistance. I stagger as the blows rain down on my legs, my back and the back of my head. I tell myself that when we get to the village perhaps my sufferings will be over. But when we arrive there it’s worse: there are even more people and the crowd turn more and more aggressive, calling all the louder for my death.

More and more people join the crowd as they push me towards the home of the village headman. I recognize the house — it’s the only one that has a garden with grass growing in it. They throw me to the ground. The village imam speaks to me: 

“I’ve been told you’ve insulted our Prophet. You know what happens to anyone who attacks the holy Prophet Mohammed. You can redeem yourself only by conversion or death.”

“I haven’t done anything! Please! I beg you! I’ve done nothing wrong!”

The qari with his long, well-combed beard, turns to Musarat and the three women who were there on the day of the falsa harvest.

“Did she speak ill of Muslims and our holy Prophet Mohammed?”

“Yes, she insulted them,” replies Musarat, and the others join in:

“It’s true, she insulted our religion.”

“If you don’t want to die,” says the young mullah, “you must convert to Islam. Are you willing to redeem yourself by becoming a good Muslim?”

Sobbing, I reply:

“No, I don’t want to change my religion. But please believe me, I didn’t do what these women say, I didn’t insult your religion. Please have mercy on me.”

I put my hands together and plead with him. But he is unmoved.

“You’re lying! Everyone says you committed this blasphemy and that’s proof enough. Christians must comply with the law of Pakistan, which forbids any derogatory remarks about the holy Prophet. Since you won’t convert and the Prophet cannot defend himself, we shall avenge him.”

He turns on his heel and the angry crowd falls on me. I’m beaten with sticks and spat at. I think I’m going to die. Then they ask me again:

“Will you convert to a religion worthy of the name?”

“No, please, I’m a Christian, but I beg you . . . ”

And they go on beating me with the same fury as before.

I was barely conscious and could hardly feel the pain of my wounds by the time the police arrived. Two policemen threw me in their van, to cheers from the angry crowd, and a few minutes later I was in the police station in Nankana Sahib.

In the police chief’s office they sat me down on a bench. I asked for water and compresses for the wounds on my legs, which were streaming with blood. A young policeman threw me an old dishcloth and spat out at me:

“Here, and don’t get it everywhere.”

One of my arms really hurt and I thought it might be broken. Just then I saw the qari come in with Musarat and her gang. With me sitting there they told the police chief that I insulted the Prophet Mohammed. From outside the police station I could hear shouts:

“Death to the Christian!”

After writing up the report the policeman turned and called to me in a nasty voice:

“So what have you got to say for yourself?”

“I’m innocent! It’s not true! I didn’t insult the Prophet!”

Immediately after I’d protested my innocence I was manhandled into the police van and driven away. During the journey I passed out from pain and only came back to myself as we were arriving at Sheikhupura prison, where I was thrown into a cell.

Since that day I haven’t left prison.

                In the intervening years since her arrest and conviction, while the high court has repeatedly delayed her appeal, Aasiya has languished in jail.  Aasiya has to cook her own food, provided by the prison guards, due to fears that she will be poisoned by another inmate.  In January of 2011, Salman Taseer, the governor of Punjab province where Aasiya lives, was assassinated because he, although a Muslim, had spoken out against Pakistan’s blasphemy laws and had supported a pardon for her.  In March of the same year Shahbaz Bhatti, the only Christian member of Pakistan’s cabinet and another who had spoken out in support of Aasiya, was also murdered.

                The high court has been internationally embarrassed by Aasiya’s case.  But they are afraid to give her the appeal she has requested out of fear of radical Islamist militants and the civil chaos as well as personal injury they might cause.  So the government is biding its time, hoping Aasiya will just quietly die in prison.

                Aasiya’s family has been deprived of their wife and mother.  They have gone into hiding because of death threats.  And their fears are very real considering what has already happened to those who tried to support their mother. 

Aasiya’s daughter Alishba had this to say:

" We are praying and fasting for our mother so that she can be with us, I visit her with my father and each time I meet her, i cant stop myself and tears pour out. My mother tries to hold my hand through the gaps between the grilled window and says, have faith in the Lord, He will bring me home one day. Every time I hear these words, I cry to the Lord to bring back my mother so that we can be with her again."

And her youngest daughter poured out her heart in these words:

" It has been months I have not met my mother, I am scared... I just see her pictures and can't control my tears. I fear that I will not be able to see my mother in the condition she is in. As I have the pleasant memories of her when she was with us, so I cannot even imagine what she is going through. 
There are times I even lose all the hope of seeing her ever again, so I want to keep the memories of her smiling and playing with us. If she comes back to us, I will forget this whole thing as a bad dream."

                Voice of the Martyrs has been supporting Aasiya since her arrest.  They are working on a 1,000,000 member petition (currently at 681,239 signatures) to be delivered to the Pakistani embassy in Washington D.C. to plead for Aasiya’s release.  To add your name to this petition, find out other ways you can help, or just to find out more information about Aasiya Bibi’s situation please visit www.callformercy.com.  At the very least please join us each day in praying earnestly and steadfastly for God’s grace to sovereignly intervene on behalf of Aasiya.  Hebrews 13:3 instructs us to “Remember the prisoners, as though in prison with them, and those who are ill-treated, since you yourselves also are in the body.”  An excellent opportunity to obey this command corporately is coming up one week from tomorrow on October 6^th.  We invite you to join us at Daniels Bible Church for our monthly prayer meeting for the persecuted church.