Most of us, my audience, live in a place where attending church is a to-do. We dress to impress and present your best self for a few hours every Sunday. Stand through worship wondering how many more songs until you can sit down because your shoes are cute but not practical. Pull out your Bible and listen attentively to the pastors sermon so long as it doesn’t run over the allotted time. Afterwards you reward yourself with a nice meal. Maybe you post a photo of your precious family or about how great your pastors sermon was. You invite your friends to come next week. This isn’t wrong or bad it can be beautiful. It also becomes routine and makes it easy to forget the that there are places in the world where this isn’t the norm.
Would you still go to Church if it wasn’t a to-do? Would you worship differently if you knew the neighbors or someone on the street might hear you and have you arrested? Imagine hearing a message on a letter written to the persecuted church when you are the persecuted church. A message you may not have heard before because you don’t own a Bible. Afterwards you enjoy some fruit and fellowship. When someone pulls out their phone you get a little nervous because they may be taking a photo. Inviting a friend into your church could put you and your entire congregation in danger. There is no way that this can become routine because the time and often place change regularly.
Would you still go? Would you invite people in? I would like to say I know what I would do, but I honestly cannot because that is not my reality. I can tell you what I experienced with my African brothers and sister this evening.
We were told from the start that the underground church here is very private. They are, after all, “under ground” for a reason. Because of this we didn’t anticipate meeting many local believers much less being invited to a service, but tonight that all changed. It was more beautiful than anything I imagined.
They welcomed us with open arms! 7 nationalities in one small room with a guitar and a projector. We worshiped singing the same songs in Arabic and English at the same time. Loudly, for all to hear. The message was not on the persecuted church, it was a call to go and make disciples of all nations! We learned how excited they were to have a Bible in their native tongue. A young girl (20 years old) shared her testimony. She became a believer in January and is keeping the secret from much of her family. In July she came home from her first mission trip to Turkey where she spent a month working with refugees. Her story was beautiful and I wish I could share more of it with you, but it’s not mine to tell. Afterwards we prayed like no prayer I have ever heard before. Each of us cried out in our native tongue; that is the only way I can describe it, crying out to the Father. Not just for their own tormented nation but that ALL nations would know the father. We ended in fellowship learning a little more about this room of strangers you just trusted with a huge secret that often your families don’t even know about, your faith. There were sweet goodbyes and promises to let everyone know when the next service would be.
Talk about convicting. I am so thankful to have had the privilege of being invited into this beautiful space. I hope it is something I will never forget and that it will impact the way I view the church for the rest of my life.
Pray for the persecuted church, friends. It’s real. And they are praying for you.
