At her funeral service, the pastor who’d been like a son to her summed up her life: “Did Jane Elder have gifts that were superior to those of other people? Not at all. I think Jane was a garden-variety, ordinary, normally gifted Palacios girl who at one moment in her life said, ‘Lord, I surrender all.’ And the difference was she really
did
surrender. She really did give her all. And she didn’t hold anything back.”
Jane Edler said yes. She meant it. Few experience the extraordinary power of a heartfelt
yes
.
The fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, and self control. Against such things there is no law.
(Galatians
5:22-23
)
WEEK ELEVEN JOURNAL
• What does peace look like in the life of a believer?
• If you could have that peace in one area of your life, which would it be?
• What are the most difficult issues you’ve had to face in your life?
• How can your stories of difficulty and struggle be molded into a message of hope for others?
• What Bible verse or passage of Scripture has been most meaningful to you this week? Why?
nisha
Danger Every Day
T
he sun was high and the streets of the village were crowded when the angry mob burst into fifteen-year-old Nisha’s home. Her father and brothers were at work, so no one was there to protect Nisha and her mother from the men who grabbed them and forced them outside.
Nisha clutched her sari as she was dragged down the packed earth streets of Kilipala, the Indian village where she lived. She saw other women being pulled from their homes and recognized them as members of her small Christian church. She knew her attackers as well; some of them were her neighbors. A few were relatives of the women being abducted. All of the men were religious Hindus.
The mob gathered their victims—seven women, including Nisha and another teenage girl, and their Christian pastor, Subash Samal—in a central part of the village. A leader stepped forward from the circle of angry faces and addressed the frightened women. He told them that they could not be Christians anymore. He told them about the “evils of Christianity.” Nisha recognized his words as similar to those spread through the village recently by extremist Hindu groups.
There are not many Christians in the poor, mostly illiterate Indian state of Orissa, and those who do live there are often abused. Thirteen people were killed and more than 150 homes were destroyed across the region in 1999 during anti-Christian riots. Many cases of physical violence against Christians have been reported every year since then.
In Kilipala, relationships between Hindus and Christians had not always been so bad. But tensions had flared recently when two girls from Hindu families started attending Pastor Samal’s church. Their parents tried to force them to convert back to Hinduism, but they refused and moved out of their families’ homes.
Indian law prevents any religion from “forcing conversion”—in fact, a person must fill out paperwork with the government before he or she is allowed to change religions—so the families reported Pastor Samal to the police. The innocent man produced legal affidavits signed by the girls in question, showing that they made their own choices to become Christians.
Some of the extremists in Kilipala were still upset, though, and during the first week of February 2004, a crowd rounded up the pastor and the Christian women of the town. The Hindus wanted to punish these followers of a foreign religion for taking people away from what they saw as the true Indian faith.
The crowd demanded that Nisha and the other Christian women convert back to Hinduism. Most of the Christians in Kilipala had accepted Christ more than seven years before, so they were not new believers. They were confident in their faith, and they believed in eternal salvation through Jesus Christ. One by one, each woman refused to renounce her Christianity.
The mob became violent and beat the Christians. If a woman fought back, they stripped off her clothes and forced her to stand naked in front of everyone. When the angry, strong men turned to her, Nisha considered denying Christ and agreeing to become a Hindu. But she remembered what she had learned about the apostle Peter, who denied Jesus on the night that He was arrested. Could she do that, after what Christ had suffered for her? No, Nisha was a Christian. She endured her beating in silence; she would not renounce Christ.
Battered and naked, the women continued to defend their Christian faith. The Hindus were enraged; if the women would not reconvert to Hinduism, then at least they would look as if they had!
One of the men stepped forward with a razor, and Nisha began to cry. He grabbed one of the women closest to him and roughly shaved all of the hair from the crown of her head. This was called tonsuring, and in India, it was the religious symbol of a Hindu convert. It is a severe insult to many in India to be a Christian and tonsured.
The man violently shaved the heads of each woman and then the pastor. Only one—Lata, who was pregnant—he left alone.
Eventually, the mob’s anger faded, and the women were allowed to leave. Nisha and her mother returned to their home, shaking and humiliated.
Nisha knew she could not stay in Kilipala after what had happened to her. She could not show her raw, shaved head in public. She could not see the neighbors, the relatives who had done this to her. Nisha did not trust the police in the area to punish the men for what they had done. Crimes against Christians were rarely prosecuted.
When her father returned home and found out what happened, he told Nisha to pack her things. Fearing a greater retaliation for the women’s refusal to convert, Nisha’s family joined twenty other Christians as they fled to Orissa’s state capital of Bhubaneshwar. It was a bigger city with a larger Christian population. Nisha’s family prayed that the churches there could protect them.
The Kilipala Christians found refuge at the Church of Mount Zion, where they stayed for several months waiting for the violence to subside. When Nisha and the other women first tried to report the incident to the police, some of the officers refused even to file their complaint. Finally, the women were allowed to report the names of thirty-five men who had attacked them. It took months—and the intervention of the national court system—before six of the men were arrested. That same week, Pastor Samal was also detained, apparently for allowing himself to be forcibly converted.
Nisha and her family have finally returned to Kilipala. They have found a changed town, full of increased suspicion and violence. Although they had been the victims of the attack, not the aggressors, some of their Hindu neighbors seem to blame them for what had happened. Crowds sometimes gather to prevent Nisha and the other Christian women from drawing fresh drinking water at the local well. Pastor Samal has been arrested again and again on false charges.
Yet Nisha and the rest of the Christian community in Kilipala, India, continue to defend their faith, despite the persecution. They face scorn and danger every day for the sake of one who also faced scorn and danger. They stand as a testimony of Christian commitment and an example of real sacrifice.
Then Jesus came to them and said, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age.”
(Matthew
28:18-20
)
renata rodrigues oliveira
Sent by God
W
hen Renata was eighteen, she left her family’s home on the southern coast of Brazil to serve as a missionary in nearby Curitiba. Although she knew God had called her to share the gospel, Renata had no idea what obeying Him would mean.
For three years, Renata supported other Christians at a local Youth With a Mission base in Brazil. She was happy there, content to do what God wanted while deepening her own spiritual life. But in the summer of 2001, Renata heard about a group of Brazilian missionaries in Moscow who were seriously injured in a car accident.
Renata prayed for the health of the missionaries, who had once worked at the Curitiba base, and for the survival of their program. Russia had outlawed Christianity for decades under Communism, and Renata knew there weren’t many mature Christians left in the country to help build local churches and train Russian Christian leaders. She was troubled to hear that the Discipleship Training School (DTS) where the Brazilian missionaries worked was so understaffed that it might have to close. Her own mission in Brazil was overstaffed. “It did not make sense to close something for lack of people to help if in another part [of the world] we had people in excess,” she explains.
Like the prophet Isaiah, Renata heard God asking, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” (6:8). She began to pray about moving to Russia to serve with the mission team. It was a frightening idea—it would cost thousands of dollars. Renata had never left Brazil, much less traveled to the opposite side of the globe. She would have to adjust to a new climate and language, and the monthly support required to live in a European country was five times what she needed in Brazil. Renata struggled, but after careful prayer and study, she knew it was what God wanted her to do. She was content to serve Him in Brazil, but she found she was passionate about serving Him in Russia. She was excited to answer His call: “Here I am, Lord, send me.”
Her departure for Russia was truly a miracle itself. In only twenty-three days, she raised the money she needed to make the trip. Her paperwork came through, and a plane ticket was arranged.
When Renata arrived in Moscow, the overworked mission staff received her gratefully. She settled into her new routine, soon realizing how difficult the language barrier could be in her ministry. Renata knew no Russian, and none of the Russian students in the program knew Portuguese. Yet almost 80 percent of Renata’s work required her to communicate with the students. While other missionaries were sometimes available to act as translators, Renata and her students often resorted to a paper and pencil, drawing cartoon-like sketches to illustrate ideas.
After six months in the Moscow base, the Discipleship Training School students prepared for two months of evangelism work across Russia. Renata watched and helped them get ready, but she was content to stay behind. Her Russian language skills were still rough, and she didn’t know nearly enough to get by in the country.
God is not limited by language, though, and once again, He called Renata to be more than just content. The Brazilian girl was shocked when her DTS director asked her not only to attend the evangelism program, but to lead a team of students going to southern Russia.
For the first time since she had answered the call to missions, Renata wanted to turn down an assignment. She asked the director for time to pray about the opportunity, and then went to God to explain why she was not qualified for this. “I am limited, Lord,” she told Him. “I can only go so far, and beyond that it’s not possible. I need to recognize my limits.”
As soon as she heard her own excuses, though, Renata knew God’s answer. “It is true. You are really a limited person. You have a great barrier in your way. But Renata, do not make your limits My limits, because I don’t have them. For Me, there are no barriers.”
Renata knew she was called to lead the Russian students, and despite her own fears, she chose to obey God. As she boarded a train, exchanging nervous smiles with her five Russian-speaking charges, Renata’s fright almost made her turn back.
But she didn’t, and the girls on her team were patient and eager to help her learn. After a few weeks, Renata began to feel she could share the gospel with Russians.
On a bitterly cold autumn day, Renata and her team were hanging out near a train station, hoping to witness to people as they passed by. Unfortunately, it was so cold that almost no one was on the street that day. When the six girls saw an older man walking a few yards away from them, they all ran toward him, eager for someone to whom they might talk.
The man was homeless; he clutched his belongings in a plastic bag and looked silently at each girl as she spoke. When he looked at Renata, his eyes were kind, and for the first time she felt confident in her ability to speak Russian. Renata used every word she knew to tell him about Jesus. The old man never furrowed his brow or looked confused, the way many Russians did when they didn’t understand Renata. Instead, he watched her attentively and expressed approval with his eyes.
This is it,
she thought. She was getting through!
Renata’s confidence was short-lived. After a few moments, the man interrupted with a gesture and began apologetically pointing to his ears. He was deaf. He hadn’t understood a single thing Renata said.
Disappointed, the girls pantomimed their message—that Jesus loved the man and wanted to help him—and gave him a copy of the New Testament with their church information in the back. The gentle beggar bowed his head and touched his heart to show his gratitude. But for Renata, as she walked away, the encounter was a failure. Once again, she had not been able to tell a person about the message of salvation. Renata felt empty and useless. There she was, halfway around the world, and she had nothing to offer.
That week, Renata and her team spoke to many people on the streets of the small city. Many of them seemed to understand Renata’s Russian and expressed interest in her message; she began to feel confident in her calling again.
In church that Sunday, Renata looked around to see if anyone she spoke to the week before had come. To her shock, she recognized only the deaf beggar. Why was he there, if he had not understood what the girls told him? And where was everyone else from the week? Where were the people who had heard her words?
Renata felt God speaking to her heart once again. “The difference between the homeless man and the people who did not come is not in what you have done. I am the one who makes the difference. You trust more in yourself and in what you can do than in My power. I just need you to be willing.”