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Chang Shen: grace to persevere

Like as the armèd knight
Appointed to the field
With Thy Word will I fight
And faith shall be my shield.

Anne Askew (1521-1546)

*****

The Christian Daily International reported, at the end of December 2024, that two pastors had been murdered in Colombia. Both were shot by criminals who hated the preaching of God’s Word. The Morning Star News reported that same December, that authorities in Sudan barred Christians who’d been internally displaced by war, from conducting Christmas services. This news agency also shared that, in that same month, Hindu extremists in eastern India stripped and beat a Christian woman. Tying her to a tree, they tortured her till she lost consciousness. And the Emergency Committee to Save the Persecuted and Enslaved documented that 14 Christians were killed following a 2024 Christmas carol service in Nigeria.

As it has always been

Is there something new here? Not really! The history of Christians being persecuted for their faith, is an age-old history. Beginning with Abel, and traversing towards the ancient Roman Empire, it is a fact that martyrdom has always been present. Although more common under certain rulers than others, it has never really been absent.

During the Middle Ages, for example, and with the rise of Islam, many Christian communities were subject to discrimination, violence and death. The Catholic Church’s Inquisition took many lives and this persecution swept through the Reformation era. Putting names and faces on these remarkable saints who withstood lies about the Bible, and who testified until their last breath, is helpful and a reminder that the Church is a flesh and blood body of believers – real people who form the essence of Hebrews 11. Anne Askew, a faith-filled woman whose poem is quoted at the top of this article, was one such martyr during the Reformation.

The number of saints we will see the other side of this life, is large. As a matter of fact, we cannot even count them. John, in Rev. 7:9-10, proclaims:

“…I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, ‘Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!’”

The Boxer Rebellion

A little closer to our time period are the Chinese Christian martyrs of the early twentieth century. Specifically, the time period of November 1899 through to September of 1901, were days in which many Christians were killed. This short time span was the time of the Boxer Rebellion. Chinese nationalists, known as the Boxers, fanatically rose up during this almost two-year time period, to protest western influence in China.

At this time, many countries had spheres of influence in China, including Russia, Japan, the US, France, Britain and Germany. There were conflicts: the First Opium War, the Second Opium War, and the First Sino-Japanese War. Each war caused western powers to have more control over trade.

In China, a feeling of resentment grew against the West, and against the western missionaries. The term “boxer” was actually first used by missionaries to refer to young Chinese men who were skilled in the martial art of boxing. These young men called themselves “The Righteous and Harmonious Fists” and they were especially hostile to Christian and western influences. As a matter of fact, they dubbed Christianity the religion of the foreign devils. Wanting to preserve their own pagan religion, a black magic ritual was performed on these young men which left them foaming at the mouth and which sometimes included human sacrifice. A potion smeared on them by “priests,” was supposed to render them bulletproof.

The country’s dowager empress was persuaded to issue an imperial decree waging war on the foreign powers, which also emboldened violence against all foreigners.

In the long run, an Eight Nation Alliance – consisting of Germany, Japan, Russia, Britain, France, the United States, Italy and Austria-Hungary – fought against and defeated the Chinese Imperial Army. It has been estimated that 136 missionaries were killed during this two-year time period and that 33,000 Christians were murdered.

One of these Christians was a man by the name of Chang Shen.

A blind heart sees

Chang Shen was a man who lived in Manchuria, in north-east China during the mid to late 1800s. Although married, he treated his wife brutally, was unfaithful, and eventually drove his wife and his daughter from their home. He also gambled, and stole whenever he could, and was not liked by many in his neighborhood. When he was stricken blind in his mid-forties, his fellow villagers told him it was a judgment of the gods, because he obviously deserved to be blind.

Miserable and dissatisfied, Chang traveled hundreds of miles to a missionary hospital, because he had heard that people who went there had received their sight back. When he arrived at the entrance to the hospital, however, he was told that every bed was occupied. In God’s mercy, the hospital evangelist took him in and gave him his own bed. Chang’s eyesight was, in God’s providence, partially restored. When he heard the Gospel story for the first time in his life, the eyes of Chang’s heart were also opened and he received Christ with joy.

“May I be baptized?” he pleaded.

“Go home, and tell your neighbors the Good News of Christ,” the missionary replied, “and tell them that you have changed because of Him. I will come and visit you where you live, and if you are still following Jesus, I will baptize you then.”

When the evangelist arrived at Chang’s home about five months later, he found that there were hundreds of people who wanted to hear the Gospel. Consequently, he baptized Chang with great joy.

When Chang went to see a local native doctor to continue care for his eyes, that doctor, not being skilled, undid what the missionary hospital had been able to partially remedy. Chang became blind – and this time permanently.

Despite being sightless, the reborn man traveled from village to village, and God granted that his words did not fall upon the ground empty. Hundreds of hearts were won for the Lord. Chang praised God even when dogs were set upon him and when hateful mouths spit on him. He learned much of the New Testament by heart, and was able to cite many chapters from the Old Testament as well, and other missionaries following in his tracks were able to establish many churches.

Willing to die

When the infamous Boxer Rebellion began, Chang was spreading God’s Word in Taipinggou, Manchuria. Because local Christians were worried that Chang would be one of the first to be targeted by the Boxers, they hid him in a mountain cave. As they were doing this, a city close to Taipinggou was overrun by the militant Boxers who immediately rounded up fifty Christians.

“You are simpleminded to kill these fifty men,” a resident of the city told them, “because for every one you kill, fifty more will rise up as long as Blind Chang is alive. But if you kill him, then you will truly kill Christianity.”

“All right,” the Boxer leader replied, “take me to this Blind Chang and we will spare the fifty men here.”

There was a long silence. No one wanted to be the Judas to betray Chang. Finally, when it appeared that the Boxers would kill the fifty Christians, one man slipped away and went to see Chang in the cave where he was hidden.

Hearing the man out, Chang responded: “I’ll gladly die for these men. Please take me to the Boxers.”

When Chang arrived in the village, the Boxers had left for another village but had vowed they would return. Chang was bound by the village leaders and was taken to the temple of the god of war. Then he was commanded to worship this pagan god.

“I can only worship the One living true God,” he testified.

“Then believe in Buddha,” they insisted.

“I already believe in the one true Buddha, even Jesus Christ.”

“Then at least bow to the other gods.”

“No, I cannot do that. Turn my face toward the sun.”

Blind Chang said this because he knew that at this time of the day the sun was shining toward the temple and his back would be to the idols. Obligingly, the village leaders did turn him around, and he knelt down and worshiped God.

When the Boxers came back three days later, Blind Chang was put in an open cart and driven to the cemetery outside the city wall. As he passed through the crowds of people who lined the road, he sang.

Jesus loves me, He Who died
Heaven’s gate to open wide;
He will wash away my sin,
Let His little child come in.

Jesus loves me, He will stay,
Close beside me all the way;
If I love Him when I die,
He will take me home on high.

The blind man’s voice rose and reached not only the hearts of the people he passed, but also the throne of God’s grace.

At the cemetery, he was led to a place where he had to kneel. Three times Blind Chang cried out before he was decapitated: “Heavenly Father, receive my spirit.”

Refusing to let the Christians bury his body, the Boxers forced them to pour oil on his remains and burn them. Fearful that the blind man would rise from the dead, they were certain that he would take revenge on them. Afraid, they fled the scene of their horrific crime and left that village. In this way, the Christians in that place were spared further persecution.

Conclusion

Everyone who believes in the Lord Jesus Christ is bound to face some sort of harassment or trouble in his life. 2 Timothy 3:12 tells us that all who desire to live a godly life in Christ Jesus will be persecuted.

Charles Spurgeon said, “Christians are not so much in danger when they are persecuted as when they are admired.” A good point to ponder. Whereas admiration and prosperity cause us to forget that all we have comes from the hand of God, distress truly causes us to rely wholly on God, to grab hold of the corner of His garment, and to hide in His Word.

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Book excerpts, Book Reviews, People we should know, Teen non-fiction

Edith Cavell: a brave guide

Some 150 years ago, on December 4, 1865, English woman Edith Cavell was born. And 100 years ago, on October 12, 1915, during the First World War, she was executed. Instilled with a desire to please her Creator God, Edith Cavell became a nurse; she lived what she professed, and died bravely at the hands of German soldiers. Her crime? Assisting Allied soldiers escape from German-occupied Belgium. In a seemingly hopeless situation, she persevered and did not shun the victor's crown. She was a gift given by God to His Son Jesus Christ and, as such, saved for eternal life. Throughout the fifty years of Edith Cavell's life, she was content to work hard and live humbly. She was a godly woman and, therefore, a godly historical example. The Bible instructs us to teach our children about such historical examples. Psalm 78:4 reads: "We will not hide them from their children, but tell to the coming generation the glorious deeds of the Lord and His might, and the wonders that He has done." At a time in history when examples of godly women are few and far between, much needed strength and encouragement can be drawn from the life of this lady who put all her trust in Jesus Christ, her Savior. 
 The following is an excerpt from the Christine Farenhorst historical fiction novel of Edith Cavell’s life, called A Cup of Cold Water, (P&R Publishing, 2007). At this point Edith has been helping many Allied soldiers escape out of German territory. *** December 4, 1914 - Brussels, Belgium Breakfast was generally served at an early hour in the L’Ecole Belge d’Infirmieres Diplomees, the Belgian School of Lay Nurses. Too early some of the nurses said. “It is actually 7 o’clock, you know,” José said at 6 o’clock one morning, as he bit into a thin piece of toast. Puzzled, everyone stared at him and he went on. “The Germans changed our time yesterday. We are now on German time and no longer on Belgian time. All the public clocks have been put ahead.” “Well, I’m not going to pay the slightest bit of attention,” Gracie said, glancing at her wristwatch, “That’s just plain silly.” “Well maybe,” Pauline added hopefully, “we should get up later.” She eyed Edith but Edith was looking at cook in the doorway. “Excuse me, Madame,” the cook said, “there is someone to see you in the kitchen.” Edith got up, wiped her mouth on a napkin and left the dining room quietly after glancing at Elisabeth Wilkins. Elisabeth nodded to her, indicating that she would supervise while Edith was gone. Two more Louise Thuliez, one of the resistance workers Edith had come to know, was waiting in the kitchen. She had come in through the back entrance. Brown hair hidden under a kerchief, the young woman was obviously relieved when Edith walked in. Ushering her through the hall towards her own office, Edith could feel the woman’s tenseness. As soon as the door closed behind them, Louise spoke. There was urgency in her tone. “I have two men waiting to come to the clinic.” Edith nodded. “Fine. Direct them here. I’ll see to them.” Louise nodded, brusquely put out her hand, which Edith shook, and disappeared. Left alone in her small office, Edith passed her right hand over her forehead in a gesture of weariness. Running a hospital in peacetime was not easy, but running it in wartime, with mounting bills for food and medicines which would never be paid by the patients, was next to impossible. She had received some money from Reginald de Cröy and Monsieur Capiau but the men who had been sent to her regularly since Monsieur Capiau’s first appearance all had hearty appetites. Resources were at the breaking point. With a glance at the calendar, she saw it was her birthday and with a pang she realized that it would be the first year she had not received letters from Mother, Flo, Lil, Jack and cousin Eddie. She swallowed. Jack growled softly and she looked out the window. Two men were approaching the walkway. Bracing herself, she smoothed her hair, patted the dog and went out into the hall to await their knock. Although most of the men sent to the school only stayed one or two nights, some of them stayed a longer. As Edith awaited the arrival of the new refugees, she wondered how long she would need to provide them with shelter. If they were ill, they would be nursed right alongside German patients. Many of the nurses in the school were unaware of what was going on. All they saw were extra patients — bandaged, limping and joking patients. The Café Chez Jules was situated right next to the school. To recuperating soldiers, as well as to idle men with nothing to do for a few days, it became a favorite gathering place. The Café served watered-down wine and at its tables the men played cards, chatted and lounged about. But even if the Germans were not yet suspicious, word quickly spread around the Belgian neighborhood that Allied soldiers were hiding in the nursing school. Once again, as she had done so often, Edith opened the door. A short, thickset man looked Edith full in the face. “My name is Captain Tunmore, sole survivor of the First Battalion of the Norfolk Regiment.” He spoke with a heavy English accent. “And this,” Captain Tunmore went on, indicating the man at his side, “is Private Lewis of the Cheshire Regiment. Password is yorc. We’re both looking to get across to border.” Edith shook their hands. They were a little nonplused that this small, frail-looking lady whose hand totally disappeared in their grasp, was rumored to be so tough. Captain Tunmore, noting a picture on the wall, remarked, “Hey, that’s Norwich Cathedral!” “Do you know Norwich?” Edith asked. “It’s my home. I was born on its outskirts.” Edith took another look at the man. The fact that he said that he was Norfolk born, gave her, for just a small moment, the feeling that she was home, that she was looking into her mother’s face. “Well, gentlemen,” she smiled, “I’m afraid you’ll have to spend Christmas here with us as there is no guide to take you until after the twenty-fifth.” *** Captain Tunmore and Private Lewis had come without identity cards. Edith, consequently, took photographs of the men herself and had contacts make identity cards for them. After Christmas, she arranged to have them travel towards Antwerp in a wagon but they were discovered and barely made it back safely to the clinic a few days later. Edith, therefore, prepared to guide them out of Brussels herself. “Gentlemen, be ready at dawn tomorrow. I’ll take you to the Louvain road. From there you’re on your own.” “I was thirsty…” At daybreak, Edith taking the lead and the men following her at a discreet distance, the trio made their way to a road outside of Brussels. Once there, Edith passed the soldiers a packet of food as well as an envelope of money. “In case you need to bribe someone – or in case you get a chance to use the railway,” she said. Shaking their hands once again, she turned and disappeared into the mist. On the walk back, Edith reminisced about how she had walked these very paths as a young governess with her young charges. It now seemed ages ago that they had frolicked about her, collecting insects, drawing, running and pulling at her arm to come and see some plant which they had found. Now she understood that God, in His infinite wisdom, had used that time to intimately acquaint her with this area. How very strange providence was! At the time she had sometimes felt, although she loved the children dearly, that her task as a governess was unimportant – trivial perhaps. Yet it had equipped her for the role she now played. Smiling to herself she thought, “Why am I surprised? After all, does not the Bible say that it is important to be faithful over a few things. A noise to her left interrupted her reverie and she slowed down. A German guard suddenly loomed next to her. “Halt! Papieren, bitte — Stop! Papers, please.” Silently she took them out and waited. He waved her on after a moment and she resumed her way. What would her father have thought about these activities, she wondered? “Out so early, my Edith?” she imagined him asking. “Yes, father. Just a little matter of helping some soldiers escape to the front lines. If they are found, you see, they’ll be sent to an internment camp somewhere, or they might be shot.” “What about you, my Edith?” “Oh, don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. And besides, what else can I do? These men, these refugee soldiers, father, they just come to me. They arrive on my doorstep and look so helpless, so afraid that I will turn them away.” “Well, my Edith, you are doing right. Remember the words of the Lord Jesus, child: “I was thirsty and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took Me in.” “I remember, father. I remember.” “And in the end ... in the end, Edith, He will say ‘Come, ye blessed of my Father, inherit the kingdom prepared for you from the foundation of the world.’” “I know, father.” No time for childhood Throughout the spring of that new year, 1915, Edith continued to rise early on the mornings that soldiers were to leave for the frontier. English, French, and Belgians – they were all men eager to leave so that they could help the Allies. Between five and seven in the morning, she would accompany the men to the planned rendezvous point with the next guide, generally a tramway terminus or a point in some street. Arriving back after one such venture, in the early days of March, she found Elisabeth waiting for her in her office with a very guilty-looking Pauline and José at her side. “What is the trouble?” Edith asked as she took off her coat. “Would you like me to tell her, or shall I?” Elisabeth’s voice was angry. José shuffled his feet but he met Edith’s gaze head-on. Then he spoke. “I encouraged all the families on Rue Darwin to set their alarm clocks at the same time. I told them to set it for six o’clock in the morning, the time I knew a single patrol would be passing.” He stopped. Edith sighed. “And,” she encouraged, “what happened?” “Well, when all the alarms went off at the same time, the soldier jumped a mile into the air. You should have seen– ” “Was anyone hurt?” Edith interrupted him. “No, no one,” Pauline took over, “everyone only let their alarms ring for five seconds exactly. After that they shut them off at the same time. It was deathly quiet in the streets and all the people watched the silly soldier through their curtains as he looked behind him and around corners and pointed his silly rifle at nothing. We laughed so hard.” Edith sat down. “Do you have any idea what could have happened if that soldier had shot up at a window? Or if he had kicked open a door and ...” She paused. They really had no idea about the seriousness of the times in which they were living. She sighed again and went on. Pauline looked down at the floor and José appeared fascinated with the wall. “You ought to know better than anyone, José, how dangerous it was what you did. After all, you have come with me many times to help soldiers find their way through and out of Brussels so that they can escape to safety. War is not a game.” *** After they left her office, thoroughly chastened, Edith sat down at her desk, put her head into her hands and wept. Childhood seemed such a long way off and the Germans were stealing much more than blackberry pie. Edith Cavell's death was memorialized on propaganda posters like this one....