Faith Aflame
Image by Dirk (Beeki®) Schumacher
Have you ever struggled to hold back tears in church?
No doubt there have been times when a comment wounded us and we maintained a spirit of humility until we could effectively shake the dust off our spiritual feet. More likely, we’ve held back tears of gratitude when a passage of Scripture or the pastor’s message spoke directly to the matter that had been troubling our minds. We knew God had spoken.
These occasions were not the cause of the tears that threatened to undo me in a recent church service.
On the first Sunday in November, our congregation acknowledged the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church. In the front of the sanctuary hung a large map. Those nations restricted and hostile to the Christian faith were colored black. Darkness had pervaded most of Asia, Africa, and the Middle East.
The following Sunday, our congregation sang several songs in honor of our veterans and the freedoms they fought and died to protect. While the lyrics of liberty and national blessing ran through my head, I studied the map that still hung on the wall. I saw in my mind’s eye the deprivation, torture, rape, and beheading of my Christian brothers and sisters. I saw them flee to the jungle, carrying nothing, while their homes, their martyred family and friends, and their villages were set ablaze behind them.
The contrast between the freedom of Christians in America and the terror being perpetrated on God’s other flocks hit me hard.
America the Beautiful: God shed His grace on thee. My Country Tis of Thee: sweet land of liberty. As He died to make men holy, let us live to make men free. In the past, I sang the songs of freedom with the pride and privilege of one who knows nothing of oppression. But this time, the words stung. How rare have been the times I paused to thank God for the grace He pours out on America.
Despite persecution, Christianity is spreading.
Firemen have a term called spotting. It is the process by which a fire spreads from sparks or embers carried by the wind to new locations. The Holy Spirit is like the wind, driving our Christian brothers and sisters—like sparks aflame—to new locations where they continue to spread the fire of their faith.
I recall the chorus of “The Battle Hymn of the Republic”: Glory, Glory, Hallelujah! His truth is marching on. Indeed His truth is marching on.
All across Asia, Africa, and the middle east, the truth of the gospel is spreading. Souls are being saved and churches are being formed. Satan cannot stomp out the Christian faith any more than he could rid the world of Christ by nailing him to the cross—no more than his assassination of Charlie Kirk can quench the thirst for truth in the hearts of young men and women on a college campus.
Perhaps instead of holding back tears, I ought to shed more of them—in praise. His truth is marching on! Glory, glory. Hallelujah!
Remember those in prison as if you were bound with them, and those who are mistreated as if you were suffering with them (Hebrews 13:3).