No Compromise

I will never forget what I felt when, as an early teen camper at Bethel Camp in Kentucky, our director ran into the chapel service one evening, stood at the front, and faced us all. "I know this is going to be hard to hear," he said, "but today, the government passed a resolution that outlaws Christianity. We are no longer allowed to worship; anyone found doing so will be put in prison. We've contacted your parents; we're going to try to get you home safely before anything happens, but it will be dangerous." He went on.

And I sobbed. 

It was a little embarrassing when, after a few minutes, the camp director explained that this was actually the introduction of a rather serious game called "Persecution," and I hadn't realized it. His announcement had been the cap of years of fighting fear over what might happen someday "if." 

Let me back up a few years. When I was in the third grade or thereabouts, a movie was made of the book Pilgrim Aflame by Myron Augsburger; the film was called The Radicals. The story followed the early Anabaptists who were persecuted for their faith, and it featured dark scenes of prison, death, and one very memorable burning at the stake. Our family went to see it where it was showing at a local church, and I remember nights of lying awake in fear that the same would be required of me someday. 

What would my answer be, should someone offer me the horrific choice: Renounce my faith or face death? I knew what my answer should be, but fear was prevalent in my life for a long time.

Returning to that evening at Bethel Camp, when the director made his announcement, all those years of fear, of lying awake and wondering what my answer would be in such a situation, came flooding back in the space of a few seconds, and my initial reaction was my absolute collapse of composure.

Something changed when the game began, though. What would normally have been just another camp game became a testament of faith. There was an ultimatum that had been laid before me; I made my choice, and I had an answer. It was exhilarating; there's no other word for it. 

To give you an idea of the "rules:" The staff divided themselves into soldiers and underground church leaders. The goal of the campers was to get from house church to house church without being caught. If the soldiers caught the campers, they were escorted to "prison," which was in the basement of the boy's dorm, where they were interrogated. If a prisoner renounced their faith, they were allowed freedom; they were escorted to the door and allowed to leave. I don't remember if they would have been considered "soldiers" themselves, or if they would have returned to the camper groups. If a prisoner did not renounce their faith, they were taken to another part of the "prison" where they were placed on a "rack," or "chained," etc. (Obviously, none of these things were real, and we could leave at any time if we so chose). 

My finesse in sneaking through the dark is not what it should be; I'd never make a good ninja. ;) I was caught after a while, and escorted to the prison. 

After that first startling moment in the chapel, I knew it was a game. I knew that my life didn't hang in the balance. I knew that a few hours post-game, I would head to bed and sleep peacefully and wake up for breakfast the next morning. I knew I would see my family at the end of the week.

But I'll never forget the exhilaration of the moment when, with the light shining in my eyes, the "soldier" asked: "Do you renounce your faith?"

And I said, "No." I said, "No way." I said, "He died in my place. How could I turn my back on Him?"

And I was led away to be "chained." Where I sang my heart out at the top of my lungs along with the other "prisoners." 

I know that this description of the game might make some of you uncomfortable (what a dark thing for children to be playing, etc.). But I want you to think about this (this is what the game made me think about, and it was a huge red-letter moment in my faith journey): At some point, you, I, every single one of us must know what we will say given the ultimatum: Renounce my faith? Or face death? 

Maybe it won't be death a la The Radicals, but unless your answer takes you to Jesus, there follows an eternity away from Jesus, which is also death. Get your answer ready. Know what it is. Because I guarantee you that if you haven't already decided in your heart what your answer is going to be, when you're facing down the ultimatum, it's going to be far too easy to let go of your faith.

But we're in America where we have freedom of faith. 

Sure. That doesn't mean the ultimatum won't happen.

This morning, I was in the book of Acts again. I realize I've already blogged my way through it, but I want to go back to Acts 5 where the apostles have been arrested for preaching the Good News. They've spent the night in prison, put there because of their faith. During the night, an angel opens the doors of the prison and tells the apostles to go preach in the temple courts.

The high priest and his associates, who had arrested the apostles, send to the jail for them the next morning, and when the jailers arrive at the prison to open it... they can't find the prisoners (that tickles my funny bone; what must they have been thinking?). And then when they do find them, there are the apostles, in broad daylight, doing the very thing they'd been arrested for one day earlier.

The jailers ask the apostles to come appear before the Sanhedrin, which is the full assembly of the elders of Israel, and the apostles agree (the jailers don't try to arrest them again, because the people are apparently favorably disposed to listen to the apostles). When the apostles gather before the Sanhedrin, the high priest says: "We told you to stop preaching in this name (the name of Jesus). But here y'all are, doing exactly what we told you not to do."

Here is where we get Peter's famous statement: "Peter and the other apostles replied, 'We must obey God rather than men.'" In other words: DON'T COMPROMISE. Don't give an inch when it comes to standing on the Word of God. Don't renounce your faith. Don't give a half-hearted: "Welllll..."

KNOW your answer. Settle it deep in your soul before an ultimatum is ever offered. "We must obey God rather than men." 

Here's the thing that jumped out to me. After Gamaliel, an honored Pharisee, convinces the Sanhedrin not to further persecute the apostles (at that moment in time. Much more intense persecution comes later), they leave the Sanhedrin, rejoicing, because they have been counted worthy of suffering disgrace for the Name.

The Name, the Name of Jesus, is worth it all! Every last suffering, discrimination, persecution, and offense -- He is worth it all. We can rejoice in it!

Romans 5:3-5 says: "We also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us." 

How do we glory in suffering? How do we come to the place where we can so completely lay aside our own comfort and accommodation in order to take up our cross and follow Him?

By realizing that the Name is worthy. Worth everything.

"Rejoice in the Lord always; I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus" (Philippians 4:4-7).

That's the place we need to be when the ultimatum is offered:

Rejoicing because we are counted worthy to suffer for the Name.

Glorying in suffering, because suffering produces perseverance, which produces character, which produces hope.

Being so gentle that everyone can see the Holy Spirit at work in your heart. Yep, being that obvious. Stop trying to hide it.

Replacing anxiety with confidence in the Lord and His work.

Underscoring our prayers with thanksgiving.

And the peace of God, which surpasses understanding -- we can't even grasp the depths of that peace --will guard our hearts and minds. We have NO fear, because He lives in us!