Last night we wrapped up our “History Makers” series at FUEL, and through it we learned about two incredible Christians and asked ourselves two extremely important questions.
The first question was one repeatedly asked by my youth pastor, Bill Archer. “If you were arrested tonight, and put on trial for being a Christian, would there be enough evidence to convict you?” It’s now been a number of years since I could be considered “youth,” but the question remains ever in the back of my mind, and I don’t think it’ll be fading away any time soon. Does my life reflect the love of Christ in the world to the extent that anyone would notice? If it were illegal to be a Christian, would I end up in jail, or would I even be suspected? I would challenge you to ask yourself these types of questions. One of the questions on our student leadership application at FUEL is “How would your non-Christian friends define your relationship with God?” Do they even know you have a relationship with God? I’m not trying to lay down a guilt trip here, but if we are going to grow as Christians, we have to think about (and answer) these sorts of questions.
The second question is, in some ways, similar to the first, but it looks forward to a commitment rather than back to how you’ve lived up to this point. “What are you willing to give up for the cause of the gospel?” This question doesn’t cause you to examine your past behavior. It allows you to place yourself in a hypothetical moment of decision, what some of us Christians like to picture as a “deny Christ or die” moment. While I think this is an excellent tool to evaluate our own motives and allegiance, I’d like to challenge the way we’ve come to think of this (or at least the way I sometimes do). It seems to me, it’s a little too easy to picture a black or white, up or down, yes or no situation where the right thing to do is perfectly clear-cut. Certainly, these happen sometimes, but they’re far less frequent than the gray decisions, and we usually don’t take into account the competing influences that would be assailing our minds. You have to admit, it sounds a little hypocritical to say you would die for Jesus if you don’t want people to see you reading your Bible at school, because that could prompt some uncomfortable conversations. We talked at youth about the fact that every choice is a rejection, and sometimes the right choice rejects something that’s good in favor of something that’s better.
It’s good to ask ourselves these questions, and frankly I think it’s good never to be satisfied with our answers.
The two Christian lives we looked at were Dietrich Bonhoeffer and Saint Damien of Molokai. Both of these men gave up everything for the cause of the gospel. Family, friends, health, freedom and life were sacrificed by each, in different ways, in order to be faithful to Christ.
Dietrich Bonhoeffer, leader in Germany’s Confessing Church under Nazi oppression, took a public stand against Hitler’s assault on the Christian faith. He also secretly helped Jews escape Germany to Switzerland and, after escaping himself to the United States and then to England, went back into Germany to oppose Hitler, even participating in a failed plot to assassinate the Nazi leader. He was captured, imprisoned in numerous concentration camps and finally hanged on April 9th, 1945, two weeks before the camp was liberated by Allied forces.
Father Damien de Veuster, a Belgian Catholic, was sent to Hawaii and ordained a priest in Honolulu in 1864. Several years later, he voluntarily went into Kalawao, a settlement of individuals suffering from Hansen’s Disease (leprosy), who had been forcibly removed from their homes and quarantined on the island of Molokai in order to prevent the spread of the disease. He served the people there faithfully and wholeheartedly, ignoring medical advice and living in close proximity to the extremely contagious infection. As a result, he contracted leprosy in 1884 and slowly succumbed to the disease, dying five years later among the people he had come to serve. Father Damien was officially recognized as a saint by Pope Benedict XVI last year, 120 years after his death.
Both these men could answer the above questions as well as humanly possible. We could not do better than to model our lives after theirs in devotion to Christ.
Matt Honstain