May 15, 2007

Dear Brothers and Sisters in Christ,

It is with a heavy heart that I write this letter to you of something that happened at our seminary. Our hearts are overflowing with gratitude for your support for us, but tragedy in the Philippines is widespread, and our seminary is not immune to the violence.

Our campus celebrates a beautiful baccalaureate service on the evening before graduation. The graduates dress in their most beautiful clothing while their families proudly look on. The baccalauriate service began for us with a very happy surprise. We were able to meet again the dear father of one of our students, Pastor Guerrero. “Guerrero” means war, and this gentleman served in the World War II beside U.S. troops. The service itself was beautiful, with hymns resounding from the rooftops and celebration abounding.

After the baccalaureate, one of our graduate students—who is also the beloved pastor of a local church—and the husband of one of the students decided that they wouldn’t wait until after graduation to celebrate, but would begin their celebration that evening. So they got into their car and went to buy chicken. They were in a happy mood and looking forward to an evening of fellowship and good food. But, an hour passed, then two, and then three. And they still had not returned.

In the early morning hours an all-out search began. Cell phone messages and calls were sent throughout the area and throughout the Philippines. But the two people who were not answering their cell phones were the ones we wanted to hear from most—our two missing friends. First the hospitals were searched and the police were alerted. Had there been a wreck?  Had our pastor had a heart attack? Had our student’s spouse hit his head on the dashboard of the car? Could they both be lying in the hospital with head injuries? Every possibility was better than the one we feared the most. In the Philippines, if some one is missing it’s likely that the person has been kidnapped and may be killed and thrown into a ditch.

As the morning went on, the lack of news put everyone on edge. The pastor’s car could not be found, no wreck had been reported, and no one had been admitted to any of the area hospitals who fit their description. Their families and the entire seminary community knew what this meant.  It meant that they had been kidnapped and were being interrogated and beaten. We all gathered in the small living room of our student and prayed and talked and prayed some more.  Messages continued to be sent all over the country to ask people to look for them, but the hours passed as we prayed, and no word came.  We could only pray that they might emerge from this horror alive. We could only pray. The graduation ceremony was flat, everyone was anxious. We could only pray.

Late in the evening we received a message that sent our hearts out to God full of gratitude. They were coming back. Once again, we gathered at our student’s home and waited anxiously. Groups of students and faculty came by and sang praises to God. Our hearts and minds were overflowing with the gift of renewed life that we had experienced. An hour passed, and finally we took our 11-year-old Rachel Marie home to bed. I didn’t want Rachel Marie to see the student’s husband when he returned.

My fears proved to be correct. Shortly after we left, he arrived in an ambulance. He was able to walk the short distance from the road to his house but although he was a young man, he walked as if he had aged 30 years. The outward signs of his ordeal were a bent and bruised back and wrists blackened from the ropes that had bound him. Three hours after coming home, he was rushed to the hospital for treatment but went home shortly after.

He told the community that he and our minister friend had been kidnapped while they were buying chicken. His hands had been bound with plastic rope, his eyes blindfolded with tape, and his abductors stomped on his back. They had been taken to a building and separated. They were alternately interrogated and beaten while being asked questions about their work in the seminary and the seminary’s work in the community.

Our minister friend went directly home after being released. He has not talked to anyone about his experience, but the next day, which was Sunday, he got up and administered Communion to his congregation.

This is the hope that is present in the midst of terrible tragedy. These two men are not alone in being abducted and beaten. What is different about their case is that they were able to come home, embrace their wives and children, and continue to serve God. Their experience is a true testimony to the power of prayer and to the strength in times of trial that only faith in Jesus Christ can give us. This radical dependence on God in the midst of daily life is the way in which the everyday life of the Filipinos testifies to the dependability of God is a gift that continues to surprise and inspire me in my ministry.

On the negative side, the extent to which people will go to destroy other people surprises and shocks me. It makes me realize the depth of sin in the world. It makes me realize how much the world truly needs the Word of God so that it can be transformed.

I pray that today, in the midst of your lives, you also experience the transforming power of prayer, the hope it can give, and the courage it imparts to each one of us to live the life that God has set before us.

May God bless you now and forever.

In Christ,

Mary, Paul, and Rachie

The 2007 Mission Yearbook for Prayer & Study, p. 251