Paul Myhill's Blog

Drive-By Visit

The orphaned children were on an outing to a popular vacation destination by the sea. We drove to a beachfront hotel, over four hours from the city, in order to see and bestow gifts upon them in an intentionally-public location.

In what surmounted to a loose clandestine mission, we arrived as seaside tourists and started taking pictures of the waves lashing upon the shore while the children were being assembled on a different part of the property. Our Vietnamese worker took the role of a porter, following us with suitcases packed with items for the children, and then diverting towards them while we took photographs of each other in front of security personnel.

We strolled along the beachfront promenade while things were being readied. As we kept up the vacationer façade, I joked to a teammate that "We wouldn’t make very good CIA operatives, would we?" I immediately followed with the self-defacing comment that even mentioning the CIA was pretty much a less-than-smooth move on my part, akin to joking about having a gun in the TSA line.

Our ‘porter’ then came for us, making sure we got a couple of more tourist snapshots in front of the security folks that were enjoying a shaded area together near the beach entry.

We then ‘happened’ upon the children on the other side of the grounds and, after quick bursts of gift-giving and photo-taking, we were gone.

We didn’t escape the attention of the property owner, though, who had made a beeline to the security folks and then to the front desk clerk. The situation appeared to be diffused by two of our Vietnamese comrades, but we were told afterwards that the local pastor, who had been standing out of the way of the whirlwind of activity, would certainly be called upon by government authorities within the next few days. After all, this is a police state.

It’s a delicate balance of openness and persecution here, a constant tightrope of forces pulling against one another. One strength desires to appease the international community; the other seeks to oppress any movements that could potentially cause civil disobedience and unrest.

Sometimes children just happen to get caught in the middle.

Horn Blower

Pastor John (not his real name) served a few years in a Vietnamese prison because his underground house church movement had become too big, too much of a threat to the communist cadres.

Like many faithful men who have been beaten and incarcerated in this country, John viewed his loss of freedom as just another ministry opportunity. While in jail, John "spoke in parables" to teach guards and inmates alike about the love and sacrifice of Jesus. John’s witness was so strong and moving, that the head jailer ended up naming his first born son after him.

Since that time, John has started many additional churches. Along the way, the communist government has destroyed, looted and stolen the property of quite a few of these houses of worship. During such episodes, and in their aftermath, John and his ministry team followed a course of "turning the other cheek."

When asked why he didn’t challenge the government on these actions, John replied:

"If you have a 100 horsepower car, but you use 90 of those horses to blow your horn, you are not going very fast."

The reality is that the hunger for Christ, and resulting growth of the church here, far outpaces the need to be at constant loggerheads with the government. Pastors just go about continuing the work and, as the frequent examinations by authorities occur, they simply tell the truth and use them as encounters to build bridges of understanding.

John reckons that he has been interrogated "hundreds" of times. Each one is an ordained chance to influence authorities with the good news.

To illustrate, John shared with us how the course of such questionings might go:

"Do you know a Christian leader named Simon?"

"Yes, I do. He is a born again Pastor."

"What do you mean by ‘born again?’"

"Well, to be born again you must..."

As John presents the Gospel, his interrogator usually catches on to what he is really doing.

"Wait a minute, you’re preaching to me!"

"No I’m not. I’m just answering your question."

John folds his hands and smiles. Each brush with the communist leaders is an open door, not a stumbling block. Prison cells and interrogation centers are all simply part of God’s plan.

The high-ranking official who signed the orders to throw John into jail is now a friend, a friend who is apparently leading the charge for further religious freedom in the echelons of the Vietnamese government. Orders have been passed and positive changes are occurring at the federal level, albeit slow to filter down to local communist chiefs who are the main perpetrators of the persecution.

But the call is indeed being sounded in the halls of government.

All John had to do was remain focused on showing Christ and sharing Christ.

...Then God raised up the relevant horn-blower.

Considerable Risk

Pastor Michael (not his real name) tells us of how his brother was martyred, beaten to death by the authorities overseeing his town in North Vietnam.

Many of these villages in the north are finding Christ. Whole communities are accepting the Lord in what one of our hosts, Pastor James (not his real name), calls a "power movement" of the Spirit.

The communist governance of these areas doesn’t like the progressive nature of these new Christian populations. They actively try to force the people back to spiritualism and ancestor worship. Atheists promoting a return to tribal religions, superstitions and sacrifice. "A house divided," I thought to myself.

James also has firsthand accounts of the persecution. He was incarcerated for almost a decade, including stints of hard labor and years of solitary confinement. For long periods, he only received one peanut each day for sustenance. He now views the time of imprisonment as a gift from the Lord for spiritual reflection and development.

Michael came to a large town to take a ministry course offered by James and to report of the orphan situation in his area to us. The last time he returned to his village after receiving some theological instruction, he was told by the authorities that he would be killed if he ever did it again.

After Michael left our meeting, I wondered aloud what will happen when the local communist leaders figure out that he has defied them and has indeed left for more equipping.

"How will Michael explain his absence?" I asked James.

"He will tell the truth," our host replied.

"Even though it quite possibly means death?"

"Yes."

Would I have attended any of my classes at Dallas Seminary if I knew it could have resulted in my murder?

Could I participate in Willow Creek and Saddleback conferences if it meant the possible orphaning of my own children?

...I don’t know.

Pastor Michael has a wife and children. Please pray for him and the other persecuted believers here in Vietnam.