I walked through the market, papers seperated from their envelope and securely hidden. I navigated the vendors and the towns people, but all the time I was searching for my family. The police were everywhere, they broke up conversations and small gatherings and asked for papers. I tried to keep my conversations brief, and shook hands with as many strangers and I could reach, offering the special handshake that would guide me to my family members. As night fell the market dispersed and we ran for the govenment tenements to avoid being caught out side and arrested for breaking curfew. Several of us stood huddled and scared in the tenement, a beggar came to beg for food but we had none. In his displeasure he began to scream and then the police came. They peppered us with questions, about the church and the pastor, asking if we were Christians, first we said nothing. The beggar continued to scream, the police yelled “what kind of Christians are you if you won’t give this man food” the police grabbed one of the women and arrested her as a Christian, at that moment I looked in Ashley’s scared eyes, she answered “we don’t have any”, and I said “we aren’t we aren’t Christians”, looking in Ashely’s eyes I realized the weight of what I had said and what I had done, but we were safe at least for that night.
The next day at the market I found three members of my family, so we only had two more members to find. We also located the missionary who would guide us to the pastor. When the night fell one of my sisters was arrested before she made it to the tenement and was taken to jail and tortured for information which she did not give. We waited in the dark, as the police came and asulted us with questions. We listened to the screams of people who were not lucky enough to make it to the tenement before nightfall. When the officers asked if we were Christians some brothers and sisters were bold and proudly proclaimed they were, they taunted the police with it, believeing they were safe because they were not breaking curfew, but I knew better. When asked if I was a Christian my answer was “I cannot say that I am”,it was not a lie, I couldn’t safely say that I was but I was ashamed of my Peter moment and though I was using symantics as a shield it was only because I was a coward. I successfully avoided pursecution by denying knowledge, feigning ignorance of the church and even acceptance of the regime policies against Christianity.
When the “immunity” bearers, came offering immunity and community in the state run church, we all feigned ignorance of the true church. I had located my pastor and we had only to locate the last member of our family, we spoke in secret whispers that 3rd night in the tenement and then we heard screams and chaos all around us, the police were raiding the tenement, demolishing everything and arresting anyone who was caught, for all my lying and cowardice I was unable to avoid pursecution in the end. The police demanded my papers. They turned my pockets and found my empty envelope, I said I had found it and was holding it to return to its owner, when the money fell from my pockets I told them to keep it, as much talking as I did I was arrested and taken to jail. A chink in the system allowed me to escape but I was quickly recaptured and taken to be tortured. I was punished and berated, avoiding their questions and denying knowledge.I was hosed down with freezing water, I lost my glasses in the sand and they became covered in wet sand and completely useless. A short time later there was a jail break and I escaped but unable to see in the dark night, I was quickly recaptured a 3rd time.
Then the game was over, everyone standing on their government tenement welcome mats walked off, the staff stopped being police, the prisoners escaped the wet vollyball court and the benches where they had been covered in flour and syrup and ketsup. The game was over and the pretending had stopped but the tears did not stop, the fear did not stop, the shame did not stop. We had all come to close to something we could not understand. In our lives of freedom of religion and expression, in our lives so comfortably free of worldy oppression, we were oppressed, we were persecuted, we were arrested and tortured, not even for who we were but for who we might be.
I always say, of all the bible persons I most identify with Peter, but in that moment on the mat panicked and staring into Ashley’s big scared eyes, I understood how Peter felt around the fire. I would have always thought I would have the courage to stand up, and maybe if the true situation ever arises, with God’s grace, I will, but in that moment I failed, in that moment I missed the mark and took my eyes off the kingdom. We don’t know what we’ll really do until we are tested, I’m not so brave as I thought.
Everyday in too many countries around the world people are persecuted for their faith in Christ, they are tortured and even murdered for following teachings of peace, love and freedom. They are denied the basic privlages that we expect and even demand in our own lives. I know the next time I feel to lazy to go to church or don’t want to bother to openly pray about something I am going to think back to my fake arrest, to Ashley’s scared eyes and I’m gonna suck it up, because I am blessed to be able to do those things at all.
