Special Psalms Help Pakistani Christians with Persecution, Pandemic, and Disunity

Yousaf Sadiq

The heart of Christian worship in Pakistan is the Punjabi Zabur, a century-old model of how to successfully contextualize Scripture.

Sunday morning worship revolves around the Zabur, or Punjabi Psalms, at this local church in Pakistan.

Courtesy of Yousaf Sadiq

As Christians observe the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church (IDOP) this month, many will place high on their prayer list the nation of Pakistan, ranked the fifth most difficult place in the world to follow Jesus.

Yet amid the prejudice, discrimination, and persecution faced by believers there, many Pakistani Christians have a unique resource to draw upon at the heart of their worship: contextualized psalms.

A century ago, the Book of Psalms was translated into Pakistan’s predominant language, Punjabi, in versified form [see historical sidebar below]. Commonly referred to as the Punjabi Zabur, these poetic metrical songs can unequivocally be regarded as the most accustomed, read, sung, recited, and memorized part of Scripture by the body of Christ in Pakistan.

Corporate worship within Pakistani churches (which are overwhelmingly ethnically Punjabi) is considered incomplete if the Zabur are excluded. As the deepest expression of indigenous Christianity, they can rightly be viewed as the heart of Christian worship in Pakistan and have given its believers an unrivaled familiarity with the Book of Psalms.

As a child in Pakistan, I learned many of the psalms in Punjabi, my native language. Early in the morning, before we’d go to school or work, my father would sing them melodiously, and the tunes and beautiful words would bring unexplainable peace and comfort to my mind and heart. Our house faced the main mosque in the area, and the adhan, the daily call to prayer sung by the imam, was loud through the minaret speakers. However, as I listened to the Zabur from my father, the call to prayer would fade from my ears.

The Punjabi Psalms play a vital role in the church liturgies and the sociocultural gatherings of Pakistani Christians. Psalm 24 is the opening psalm at a church service, while Psalm 72 is normally sung at the end. Psalm 20 is regularly sung at funerals and at the graveyard to express grief and sorrow, Psalm 45 is used at church wedding ceremonies, and Psalm 127 is read and preached at the birth of a child. At my wedding, the traditional band in my wife’s hometown suggested playing the Zabur and performed Psalm 24, even though its members were all Muslim.

Today the Zabur play a significant role in how Pakistani Christians address persecution, the pandemic, and church unity.

Courtesy of Trinity International Christian Church

A choir sings Punjabi psalms at a Zabur celebration event on August 7, 2021, at Trinity International Christian Church in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

1) Perseverance amid persecution

Present-day Christians in Pakistan are a struggling community and often looked down upon by the majority. Many are forced to engage in jobs that are considered menial and thus experience rejection and alienation. Christians are even called by rather insulting terms that centuries ago were used for lower caste groups.

Many Pakistanis look at Christians as people who are born to do messy jobs that no one else is willing to perform. Even at the government level, sweeping and latrine-cleaning jobs are often advertised in such a way as to clearly indicate that only Christians can apply. This is open discrimination, indicating that such a mentality toward Christians is deeply rooted in society. It also demonstrates how one community perceives itself to be innately superior and views the other community to be innately filthy and without any dignity.

The Christian sweepers throughout the country put their lives at risk in order to keep the sewage lines clean and running. They are not provided with safety kits and are often seen publicly going down the pits, gutters, and manholes to draw the human waste and garbage with buckets in their hands. There have been incidents in which sewage cleaners have lost their lives due to inhaling poisonous gases. On one occasion, a doctor refused to touch an unconscious Christian sewage cleaner named Irfan Masih because the doctor was fasting and believed that touching the dirty body would break his fast. Sadly, Irfan Masih passed away as a result of the doctor’s negligence and refusal to provide medical treatment.

Pakistani Christians have been particularly targeted since the 1980s under Pakistan’s penal code concerning the blasphemy law that is often regarded as a hanging sword over the innocent Christians in Pakistan. Section 295-B concerns the defiling of the Qur’an, for which the punishment is life imprisonment. Section 295-C concerns the use of derogatory remarks about the prophet of Islam (by words, either spoken or written, or by visible representation, or by any imputation, innuendo, or insinuation, directly or indirectly) for which the punishment is the death penalty or imprisonment for life. Moreover, worship places of Pakistani Christians remain under attack by the extremists.

The Psalms have played a central role in the theological development of the church in Pakistan, and God’s forgiveness as found in the Psalms helps Pakistani Christians to forgive others. Asia Bibi, a Christian mother of four children, faced the death penalty under blasphemy charges and spent 10 years in solitary confinement before being acquitted by the highest court in Pakistan. In a recent interview, she forgave all those who falsely accused her and caused her to be separated from her children for many years. In a similar manner, several Christians who lost their entire families in a twin suicide attack on a church in Pakistan have spoken of forgiveness for their attackers.

Pakistani Christians find comfort and peace by singing these Punjabi psalms as they continue to face discrimination by society. Their choice of the psalms has much to do with the way they look at a future full of challenges. The preference for certain psalms is due to their message of protection and help that corresponds to the danger of their precarious minority status.

At present, many of the well-known psalms among the Punjabi congregations include the ones that deal with suffering and patience, such as Psalm 16 (“Keep me safe, my God, for in you I take refuge”) and Psalm 69 (“Save me, O God, for the waters have come up to my neck”). Suffering for Christ is something that is deeply rooted in the lives of believers in Pakistan who experience social alienation, hatred, and discrimination for their lower social status as well as for their faith in Christ. Worshiping God through the singing of the Punjabi Zabur identifies the conditions of these oppressed people. The message of God’s faithfulness brings peace and comfort to their broken hearts as they repeatedly sing the words: “I cry out in distress, and he hears my voice” (Ps. 55:17).

Courtesy of Trinity International Christian Church

Saptak Aqeel Bhatti with his tabla, a traditional instrument used in Punjabi worship, at a Zabur celebration event on August 7, 2021, at Trinity International Christian Church in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

2) Hope amid a pandemic

Many of the psalms sung by Pakistani churches carry a message of deliverance, restoration, and trust in the Lord. In the era of COVID-19, they sing even more of the psalms of protection, refuge, and hope in God.

The psalms of hope and protection are sources of strength and confidence in God for the believers in Pakistan during the pandemic. For example, they enthusiastically sing Psalm 91 with great reliance upon the Lord in a country where access to much-needed medical assistance is hard for many. In such circumstances, they wholeheartedly put their trust in the Lord for his protection and sing the words with full confidence.

In the city of Lahore in Pakistan, some Christians have written the psalm’s words “Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High will rest in the shadow of the Almighty” on their doorposts as an expression of their faith and trust in God (v. 1). In our family devotions, we have been singing this psalm so frequently this past year that our six-year-old has memorized it in Punjabi and even our two-year-old joins us in singing.

During lockdown, pastors in Pakistan conducted many public funerals. Culturally and socially, it is an expectation that the pastor as a spiritual leader and shepherd must be present in person to say the final goodbye at both the church ceremony and at the graveyard. Funerals in this part of the world are very participatory, open to the public and attended by most of the community to show support to the grieving family.

The pandemic has made Pakistani pastors highly vulnerable to contracting COVID-19, as many do not have access to basic protective items while conducting the public funerals. The pastors have been less worried for themselves and much more concerned for their congregants, as in a communal setting they cannot leave the grievers alone at any cost.

A pastor friend told me that in these unprecedented times, the Punjabi Zabur is his source of spiritual power. In times when there are so much fear and an increased number of deaths being reported from all around the world, the believers and pastors in Pakistan contemplate the words from Psalm 46—“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble” (v.1)—that they have been singing in the age of COVID-19. The content of the Psalms has been a huge encouragement to the Pakistani believers in meditating on the message of hope and protection.

There has been a lot of charity work being done in Pakistan since the spread of COVID-19. It is commendable how so many individuals, groups, charities, and show business and sports stars are traveling from place to place to provide necessary food supplies to the needy. However, it was heartbreaking to receive the news on various social media platforms that Christians in different areas were not given the help they needed in the pandemic. Several people were seen complaining that they were first being asked about their religious affiliation, and when they revealed their Christian faith they were ignored and the food distributors refused to provide them with much-needed supplies. Despite such treatment, the believers have been repeatedly singing Psalm 121—“My help comes from the Lord, the Maker of heaven and earth” (v. 1)—and reminding themselves of God’s promises to provide for his people.

Courtesy of Yousaf Sadiq

I.D. Shahbaz Hall, a Christian boys hostel in Sialkot, named after the man behind the making of the Punjabi Psalter, Dr. Imam-ud-Din Shahbaz.

3) Unity among denominations

The singing of the Punjabi Psalms has been successful in creating unity among churches in Pakistan. Their metrical verses can be heard and sung at any church or denomination in Pakistan. In fact, all major and minor Protestant denominations, such as the Church of Pakistan (a unification of Lutherans, Methodists, and Anglicans), Baptists, Brethren, Presbyterians (United and Reformed), Pentecostals, and charismatics make use of these psalms. Within the Roman Catholic Church, these psalms are widely used as well.

This means when members of a particular denomination attend the service of a different denomination, they can take full part in worship through the singing of these psalms. It is even more helpful for the vast numbers of Christians in Pakistan who never had access to education, particularly the older generation, to use these psalms in their religious, social, and family gatherings. They all can sing these psalms on occasions of joy, celebration, sorrow, and grief. Among Pakistani churches, psalms are often identified and remembered by their chorus instead of by their numerical number. This makes things easier especially for those who cannot read but who know the Zabur by heart.

The Punjabi Psalms are a symbol of unity and harmony among different Christian denominations in Pakistan, and they continue to build up a strong bond within its diverse churches. The Punjabi Zabur are beyond denominational boundaries. This reinforces the need to give credit to the entire Christian community in Pakistan for equally contributing toward the use of the Zabur in worship. The beautiful melodies of the Punjabi Psalter can be heard, as the phrase in Pakistan goes, “from Karachi to Khyber”—meaning from corner to corner across the country.

Christians in Pakistan remain thankful for the precious heritage of the Punjabi Psalms, as they continue to be blessed by the spiritual depth and comfort found in these cherished songs. Through this unique resource, they express their faith in God. The contextualized Psalms bring restoration to burdened souls, and bolster Christians throughout Pakistan against division, persecution, hardship, and disease.

Yousaf Sadiq is a visiting assistant professor of anthropology at Wheaton College. This essay is adapted from his book, The Contextualized Psalms (Punjabi Zabur): A Precious Heritage of the Global Punjabi Christian Community.

https://open.spotify.com/embed/album/0Od6BTo7WuipLfkonuH4C8?si=Mbeqvtz6TsOu70ixuclK0Q

The Punjabi Psalms are a model of contextualization where scriptural truths were presented to ordinary people within their own culture and context.

The common Punjabi Christians did not respond to the established form of Christian worship in Pakistan in the late 19th century, as hymns in the Urdu language sung to Western melodies seemed strange and unfamiliar to them. The decision to use the mother tongue in translation of these psalms and to use indigenous music were the most important factors behind the acceptability and use of the Punjabi Psalms.

The story of the Punjabi Psalter revolves around Imam-ud-Din Shahbaz, born to Muslim parents and baptized by Robert Clark in 1866 in Amritsar, Punjab. In 1880, he was declared the winner of a poetry competition organized by the leading Persian-Urdu magazine Nur-Afshan (Spread of Light) and was selected to translate the psalms.

In the preparation process, Shahbaz first translated each psalm into Punjabi in versified form. The next step was to evaluate the translation of the psalms against the Hebrew text of the Psalter, and the final stage was the metrical musical arrangements. During the later stages of the Punjabi Psalms, Shahbaz lost his sight. Often, he would lie in his bed with his head completely covered while a colleague, Babu Sadiq, read to him. Once the stanza was formulated in the mind, he would dictate it back to Sadiq. In this regard, Shahbaz has often been referred to as a modern Milton.

The Punjabi Psalms committee collected musical data by spending time at ordinary shopping and eating places. Assistance was also received from the mirasis, a group of nomadic singers looked down upon by society, and from Radha Kishan, a professional Hindu singer who was asked to help with the musical arrangements. He would read the poem together with Shahbaz until the singer caught the rhythm, then he would fit a tune to that rhythm and meter. If Shahbaz accepted it, Kishan brought the tune to musicians and sang it until they got it into their ears. Sometimes 10 attempts were required, sometimes with many repetitions for one phrase. The musicians then wrote it as they had heard it on music paper and sang it to Shahbaz. If he approved, that psalm was ready to go to the printer. If not satisfactory, then it had to be corrected.

At that time, and even today, Indian music is learned and passed on solely by repetition and memory. However, it was considered important to write down Western notations for the Punjabi metrical psalms so that missionaries could learn and teach them to the locals wherever they went. The 1908 edition of the Punjabi Psalter contains all 150 psalms furnished with Western notations.

The melodies were chosen to best express both the contents and the emotions found in the Book of Psalms. The theme, settings, and the emotional state of the psalmist were kept in mind before deciding on any particular raga (melody). For example, Psalm 121 (“I lift up my eyes to the mountains”) is sung to a Pahari (mountainous) raga, since it can best express the background environment and the feelings of the psalmist in that psalm. The Punjabi Psalms were regarded as bhajans (devotional songs) being played on traditional musical instruments, such as the tabla, harmonium, dholak, and chimta.

The Sialkot Convention, the oldest and most prominent annual gathering of Christians in Pakistan, played an integral role in the spread of the Punjabi Psalms as local schoolgirls would sing and teach them at these large Christian gatherings. The Punjabi Psalms and the Sialkot Convention are regarded as the two major factors responsible for Christian conversions and discipleship in the Punjab region. Of all the languages of the Indian subcontinent, only Punjabi possesses—and widely uses—the entire Psalter in versified form, set to indigenous music in the native language.

Sidebar: The Making of the Punjabi Psalter

Zabur 72, a versified Punjabi psalm with Western notations.

- More from Yousaf Sadiq

Books

Review

Prohibition: A Movement of Prudish Killjoys or Righteous Revolutionaries?

Heath W. Carter

A new book reenvisions temperance as a global struggle on behalf of the oppressed and exploited.

Illustration by Mallory Rentsch / Source Images: Will Kirk / Tiero / Klyaksun / Getty Images

Now that cool pastors drink craft beer, American Protestants’ erstwhile obsession with banning booze can seem downright weird. Or maybe just quaint? Was the nation’s brief experiment with Prohibition an instance of no-fun church folks run amok, one of the last gasps of an overweening Puritan superego?

Smashing the Liquor Machine: A Global History of Prohibition

Mark Lawrence Schrad (Author)

Oxford University Press, USA

752 pages

$32.21

That’s what the true villains of the story would want you to think, or so Mark Lawrence Schrad argues in his new book, Smashing the Liquor Machine: A Global History of Prohibition. Taking aim at the widespread perception that temperance movements were all about “moralizing ‘thou shalt nots,’” he proclaims that they were, on the contrary, “a progressive shield for marginalized, suffering, and oppressed peoples to defend themselves from further exploitation.”

Crucially, in Schrad’s telling, prohibition was never about raining on the individual drinker’s parade. Rather, it was a tactic to combat predatory liquor traffickers and the empires that benefited from their nefarious work. It is only because the capitalists and imperialists so often prevailed in these struggles, Schrad suggests, that we remember temperance activists as prudish killjoys rather than righteous revolutionaries.

Resisting ‘alco-subjugation’

United States historians have tended to reinforce such misconceptions, Schrad contends, because they have usually failed to view American temperance movements in wider world context. To be sure, this is not easy to do. For Schrad it meant tracking down leads in 70 different archives housed in 17 different countries and strewn across five continents. But the payoff of that hard work is tremendous: a story that is, as the subtitle promises, truly global.

One of its central themes is that alcohol—and especially distilled liquor—functioned as a powerful tool of empire. This was in no small part because the sale of spirits kept the ruling class’s coffers full. In Tsarist Russia, Schrad observes, “the vodka monopoly was the largest source of imperial finance.” But booze was more than just a moneymaker. It also facilitated what he calls the “alco-subjugation” of the world’s peoples, many of whom had no prior exposure to “industrial alcohols.” Everywhere distilled liquor was introduced, epidemics of intoxication and addiction followed, rendering entire societies ripe for conquest. In this sense, “colonialism in Africa, Asia and North America was achieved with bottles as much as bullets,” Schrad states.

Little wonder that, across the globe, temperance and anti-imperialism activism were so often of a piece. In the years just before Ireland’s Great Famine, Father Theobald Matthew traveled the countryside and collected an astounding 5.5 million temperance pledges, building a movement that became closely associated with the fight for Irish independence. In early-20th-century Russia, Vladimir Lenin and the Bolsheviks urged the masses to abstain from vodka in a bid to starve the regime of revenue. South Africans registered their objections to colonial rule in the 1920s and 1930s by boycotting beer halls, while in India, for Hindu and Muslim dissenters from the British Raj, “abstinence became synonymous with patriotism.”

Notably, Schrad goes on to argue, the United States was not an exception to this global rule. Here, too, temperance movements were powered not by stern divines and dour church matrons but by staunch defenders of the poor and the oppressed. Indigenous leaders led the charge, with the Choctaw, Cherokee, Chickasaw, Creek, and Seminole tribes, for example, agreeing to “cooperate in suppressing the sale of strong drink.” Similarly committed to the cause were abolitionists, women’s rights activists, social gospelers, and more. Indeed, Frederick Douglass’s line, “All great reforms go together,” is one of Schrad’s favorite mantras. He supports this claim by underscoring the temperance credentials of not only Douglass but also the likes of William Lloyd Garrison, Susan B. Anthony, and Abraham Lincoln. “These are the heroes of American history, not its villains,” Schrad declares.

There is no doubt that he has a point. Smashing the Liquor Machine’s provocative reframing of temperance and Prohibition as “part of a long-term people’s movement to strengthen international norms in defense of human rights, human dignity, and human equality” represents a persuasive challenge to conventional wisdom. It should change the way that historians think and write about these subjects going forward. But one wishes that Schrad had not been content to flip an unsatisfying script. What if temperance activists were neither heroes nor villains, but rather finite, fallible humans, fighting for what they understood to be right, even as they were caught up—in ways that they did not fully recognize—in deeper-seated social sin?

Illustration by Mallory Rentsch / Source Images: WikiMedia Commons

One of the great tragedies of American history is that, whatever Douglass’s noble aspirations, all great reforms have not in fact gone together. One finds some evidence of this in Schrad’s book, notwithstanding his assertions to the contrary. In a chapter on the Women’s Christian Temperance Union (WCTU), he discusses how the organization’s leaders sought to navigate the racism that was so pervasive among its white rank-and-file members, and also how the WCTU leadership was itself hardly immune. Longtime president Frances Willard loved to tout her abolitionist heritage and “Do Everything” reform philosophy; but while she championed the causes of women’s suffrage and labor reform, one thing she refused to do was support Ida B. Wells’s courageous campaign to mobilize white Christians against the scourge of lynching.

Willard’s failings on this front were hardly unique. Another of Schrad’s temperance heroes, William Jennings Bryan—or the “Great Commoner,” as he liked to be called—was a fierce defender of white farmers and workers at home, and a ferocious critic of American imperialism abroad. But when President Theodore Roosevelt invited Booker T. Washington to the White House for dinner, Bryan declared it “unfortunate, to say the least.”

Walter Rauschenbusch, one of the great theoreticians of the social gospel, provides yet another case in point. As Schrad underscores, in addition to propounding temperance, Rauschenbusch wrote voluminously about the threat of spiraling economic inequality. Yet he said next to nothing about the rising tide of mob violence and anti-Black racism. As he reflected in the final decade of his life, “the problem of the two races in the South has seemed to me so tragic, so insoluble, that I have never yet ventured to discuss it in public.”

A daring argument

The issue is not only that many temperance reformers fell short of heroism when it came to other causes. It is also that the temperance fight itself was more morally complex than Schrad allows. There was unmistakable synergy, for one, between campaigns against “the liquor power” and others targeting Catholics, immigrants, and labor radicals. The Germans who participated in Chicago’s Lager Beer Riot of 1855—sparked by a nativist mayor’s decision to close taverns on Sundays and to raise the fee for liquor licenses—felt this viscerally, but the perspective of working-class immigrants like them is largely absent from Schrad’s narrative.

Also missing are the important ways in which the brunt of temperance activism fell not only on “the man who sells” but also on countless ordinary people. The heyday of temperance reform was, not coincidentally, also the heyday of “scientific charity,” whose proponents often saw anyone who frequented the saloon as unworthy of material aid.

Saloons themselves were more complicated than Schrad lets on. Waving off the suggestion that they might have had redeeming features, he insists that they must be understood as “an actual, real blight on the local community.” At points his description sounds a lot like what one might find in a late-19th-century temperance pamphlet. “They were dark and smoky,” Schrad writes, “with overflowing spittoons and sticky floors.”

Saloons were certainly not above reproach. Yet historians have found overwhelming evidence that they served a wide variety of social roles, not all of which were objectionable. They were places where information was exchanged and public questions debated; where immigrants created space that they could call their own; and where the poor found shelter from the streets, a free lunch to fill their bellies, and sometimes even access to prohibitively expensive technologies such as the telephone. Schrad is a political scientist, and in his introduction he clarifies that Smashing the Liquor Machine is “not a history book” but rather “a work of comparative politics.” His treatment of the saloon is one of the points where it shows.

But Schrad’s disciplinary expertise is also the source of extraordinary insight. Crisscrossing the globe and assimilating vast evidence along the way, he advances a daring argument, one that historians will be reckoning with for years to come. This book deserves a wider audience, too. It is a fun read, thanks to Schrad’s eye for colorful characters such as William “Pussyfoot” Johnson, who lost one of his eyes while on mission preaching the temperance gospel in England. During a melee between law enforcement and college students—who were, predictably, none too excited about his message—a rock hit him square in the face. He was good-natured about it afterwards, telling a group of remorseful student well-wishers who visited him in the hospital, “You had a good time; I had a good time. I have no complaints. But if you want some real fun, get into the game against the greatest enemy of the human race—drink.”

Cheers to a book that offers a new and sharper sense of that game, including what, exactly, was at stake and why so many millions once poured their lives into playing.

Heath W. Carter is associate professor of American Christianity at Princeton Theological Seminary. He is the author of Union Made: Working People and the Rise of Social Christianity in Chicago.

- More from Heath W. Carter

News

Seminaries, Ministries Resume Lawsuits to Block Biden Vaccine Mandate

Kate Shellnutt

UPDATE: Southern Seminary and Asbury Seminary are among large Christian employers arguing that the requirement represents government overreach and a First Amendment violation.

Southern Baptist Theological Seminary in Louisville, Kentucky

Alex Leung / Flickr

Update (December 20): After an appeals court reinstated the Biden administration’s vaccine mandate for large employers in a ruling on Friday, legal challenges from Christian organizations were back on.

The Sixth Circuit Court of Appeals decision prompted attorneys representing the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and Asbury Theological Seminary to once again seek emergency relief from enforcement of the mandate, which asks businesses with over 100 employees to require COVID-19 vaccination, with any unvaccinated workers required to wear mask and undergo regular testing.

“The government has no authority … to compel employers to carry out the government’s unlawful national vaccine mandate,” said Ryan Banger, senior counsel with Alliance Defending Freedom (ADF). The mandate had been blocked by another appeals court, the Fifth Circuit, last month.

Another request for an emergency stay came from American Family Association, Answers in Genesis and Daystar Television Network. The ministries argue that the vaccine mandate “fails to provide any religious exemptions or accommodations,” Axios reported.

“Few are aware that, in addition to the President’s OSHA mandate being clearly lawless, its takeover of American companies also includes all religious organizations of over 100 employees," said Kelly Shackelford, president, CEO, and chief counsel at First Liberty Institute. “Our clients simply cannot comply with a government mandate that forces them to violate the conscience rights of their employees. The Supreme Court must act, or there will be a Constitutional crisis.”

———

Original post (November 5): The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and Asbury Theological Seminary are among the first major Christian institutions to legally challenge COVID-19 vaccine requirements issued by the Biden administration.

The two Kentucky schools, representing the largest seminaries in the Southern Baptist and Methodist traditions, filed a petition Friday against a policy mandating employers with 100 or more workers require COVID-19 vaccination or weekly testing, which President Joe Biden announced the day before.

“This seminary must not be forced to stand in for the government in investigating the private health decisions of our faculty and employees in a matter involving legitimate religious concerns,” said Albert Mohler, president of Southern Seminary in Louisville. “We are glad to join with Asbury Theological Seminary in taking a stand against government coercion.”

According to the rules issued Thursday, private-sector employers with 100 or more workers must require COVID-19 vaccination or weekly testing. These requirements will take effect January 4 under an emergency temporary standard from the Occupational Safety and Health Administration (OSHA).

Several states with Republican governors have also vowed to challenge the OSHA regulations in court, calling them an unconstitutional power grab by the federal government.

“The Biden administration’s decision to mandate vaccines through an OSHA emergency rule is unlawful and compels employers like our clients to intrude on their employees’ personal health decisions and divert resources from their important mission of training future ministers,” said Ryan Bangert, senior counsel with the Alliance Defending Freedom, which is representing the two seminaries.

In a federal lawsuit filed with the US Court of Appeals for the 6th Circuit, Southern and Asbury claim that the administration doesn’t have jurisdiction over employment practices at religious institutions and didn’t have the constitutional authority to issue the vaccine mandate over employers.

Last year, months into the pandemic, Southern had its campus community sign a covenant agreeing to comply with coronavirus precautions around masking and social distancing; by this school year, masks were optional and vaccines “strongly encouraged.”

At its campus in Wilmore, Kentucky, Asbury also “strongly encourages full vaccination.” Since July, it has reported 28 positive COVID-19 tests among students and staff, with three attributed to on-campus exposure.

While evangelical schools have promoted vaccination and hosted vaccine clinics, few have required the shot for students or employees. Though white evangelicals have been most likely to continue to refuse the vaccine, a majority had gotten the shot by June.

“The fact that the largest US seminaries of the Baptist and Methodist traditions are here standing together against this mandate should send a clear and urgent message to Christians and to the nation,” Mohler said.

Though confirmed viral cases and deaths have fallen sharply since the start of the year, average case numbers are still at about 70,000 new infections a day and confirmed viral deaths at more than 1,200 a day.

“Too many people remain unvaccinated for us to get out of this pandemic for good,” Biden said as he announced the policy Thursday.

With reporting from the Associated Press.

- More from Kate Shellnutt

News

As Students Rally for Victims, Liberty Board Approves Title IX Review

Kate Shellnutt

(UPDATED) The Justice for Janes movement has brought forth allegations of mishandled abuse cases and coverup and challenged the university to improve its response.

Hailey Wilkinson, Justice for Janes representative and Liberty senior, reads the story of Jane Doe 2 to the crowd during the November 4 rally.

Kendall Warner / The News & Advance via AP

Liberty University students and alumni prayed and protested in solidarity with survivors of sexual assault as they called on the school’s board of trustees to authorize an independent investigation into its response to reports of abuse.

On Thursday evening, more than 100 people gathered behind a barrier along a traffic circle on campus—Lynchburg’s fall foliage aglow behind them—to hear from victims’ advocate Rachael Denhollander; former Liberty professor Karen Swallow Prior; and representatives of “Justice for Janes,” named for the Jane Does who have come forward with claims that their abuse cases were mishandled by Liberty.

They wore teal clothing and ribbons and held signs reading “We’re with the Does” and “Independent Audit Now.” Students plan to continue to rally on campus Friday afternoon.

With momentum around the movement and coverage of Liberty building for months, advocates have seen some signs of hope this week. The school announced plans to install surveillance cameras and blue-light call boxes on campus and may be moving toward an outside audit of the school’s Title IX and human resources offices.

“While Justice for Janes is grateful for the steps being taken, we understand that there is way more to be done,” Liberty senior and Justice for Janes founder Daniel Harris told the Liberty Champion. “That investigation needs to happen.”

After students struggled to secure university permission to hold Thursday night’s event on campus, interim president Jerry Prevo ended up attending and spoke with organizers and the media.

https://twitter.com/rob_locklear/status/1456419165510774797

On Friday, a day after of the executive committee of Liberty’s board of trustees had voted in favor of a proposal to conduct an outside audit, the full board unanimously approved the measure.

A university press release called it “an independent and comprehensive review of its Title IX policies and processes” and said Prevo would “engage a third party to independently assess the facts necessary for Liberty University to make things right with the Jane Doe Title IX plaintiffs.” Organizers with Save 71 and Justice for Janes have asked Prevo and the board to pledge to make the review transparent and release a report of the findings.

https://twitter.com/justiceforjanes/status/1456766495208398852

Beside the audit and call boxes, Justice for Janes is also requesting amnesty for those reporting Title IX violations. During this week’s convocation, Prevo pledged additional training on campus and said victims who report abuse “are not going to be disciplined” for violations of Liberty’s ethics policy, which prohibits drinking and sex outside of marriage.

In July, a dozen victims filed a lawsuit against Liberty over its abuse response, alleging that the school and its ethics code made it difficult to report abuse and penalized victims. Several of those women as well as others came forward to share their stories in a recent ProPublica investigation.

Save 71, Justice for Janes, and their supporters are hoping for an audit that’s done by an independent third party. Following the scandal that led to the resignation of former president Jerry Falwell Jr. in 2020, Liberty’s board previously commissioned an investigation into “all facets of Liberty University operations.”

https://twitter.com/mbdbaggett/status/1446465131341287452

That investigation, however, was done by Liberty’s legal counsel, and as Save 71 and former professor Marybeth Baggett have noted, findings were not disclosed publicly at its conclusion. Numerous victims have also said they were not queried in that investigation, which was conducted by the law firms of Gentry Locke and Baker Tilly.

A lawsuit filed last week by Scott Lamb, Liberty’s former spokesman, alleged that he was fired for criticizing Liberty’s response to sexual assault, but the school said that “played no role in his termination.”

Prevo took over as acting president last year and said at the recent convocation he “doesn’t know what happened back then” but that he’s “serious about making Liberty University a safe place.” Prior to Falwell Jr.’s departure, Prevo spent 24 years on Liberty’s board of trustees, including 17 as board chair.

Students and advocates say they have been calling for action and greater transparency from the administration for years.

“Today I have hope. And I hope and pray that current students will continue to apply pressure, as systemic problems like these don’t resolve easily, and without a fight,” wrote Jane Doe 2, whose statement was read at Thursday’s gathering.

Addressing the school’s administration and board, she said, “The opportunity to make things right remains with you; not only to create policies, but to self-reflect on your own contributions to the university’s abuses of power, to make necessary personnel changes, and to invoke checks and balances for the sake of internal accountability.”

- More from Kate Shellnutt

Ideas

November’s Holy Week: A Modest Proposal for the Persecuted

Knox Thames

From All Saints’ Day to the International Day of Prayer, let’s honor beleaguered believers by following three rules in advocating for religious freedom for all.

Easter service at Mar Yohanna Church in Qaraqosh, Iraq, in April 2017 after Iraqi forces recaptured nearby Mosul from ISIS.

Carl Court / Getty Images

Two observances this week—All Saints' Day on November 1 and the International Day of Prayer for the Persecuted Church (IDOP) on November 7—represent a new kind of holy week. Together they provide an opportunity to remember our Christian brothers and sisters suffering for their faith overseas.

Followers of Christ living abroad face extreme circumstances in many places, as well as slow-rolling repression grinding the faithful down. These days provide an opportunity to pause in remembrance, to commit to advocating for their rights, and to honor their sacrifice by helping others persecuted for their different beliefs. (In the sidebar below, I offer three rules to follow.)

Christians are under regular physical assault. An alarming trend is terrorist violence targeting Christians, which—based on my diplomatic work over two decades—I believe represents the biggest challenge to the church globally.

Groups like the Taliban, ISIS, and Al Qaeda all have Christian blood on their hands. In ungoverned or under-governed countries, churches thrive but terrorists can also strike with impunity. Motives vary—including animosity towards Christianity, jealousy of resources, pure criminality, or all of the above—but regardless, fear hangs over entire communities.

For instance, Boko Haram’s violence in Nigeria against Christians stands out due to its severity and the size of the Christian population it victimizes. Boko Haram has burned churches, murdered pastors, and destroyed towns. In addition, Christian girls in Nigeria face physical and spiritual rape when kidnapped, forcibly converted, and married, such as Leah Sharibu.

Of course, governments also still persecute. Communist China is the largest persecutor of Christians in the world. Space for freedom of worship and practice is rapidly disappearing, replaced by a forced ideology to Chairman Xi Jinping and enforced by police and bulldozers. Flush with resources, the communist regime wants to crush the 70 million-strong Chinese church.

Elsewhere, North Korea assaults any independent practice of Christianity. In Burma (Myanmar), the military has escalated its war against ethnic and religious minorities who are predominantly Christian. Iran actively persecutes evangelicals, and Algeria’s new campaign against convert churches tarnishes a once bright spot in the Middle East. Conversion to Christianity is generally illegal across the Arab world, marking individuals for purely following their conscience.

And Christians are not alone. In almost every context, when Christian saints face persecution, others are also victimized for their beliefs, religious practices, or membership in a faith community.

Sometimes the persecution of others surpasses what Christians experience. For example, China’s war on religion also targets Tibetan Buddhists and Uighur Muslims with a genocidal vengeance. Perhaps unexpected, Muslims take the brunt of government repression worldwide. In addition to Muslim persecution, other groups feeling the impact of persecution include Baha’is, Hindus, Sikhs, and atheists.

These days of remembrance provide an opportunity to reflect on those suffering from our community and from others. While the Bible doesn’t use the phrase “human rights,” we find global concepts of dignity and justice interwoven throughout. The prophet Isaiah proclaimed, “Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow’s cause” (Isaiah 1:17 ESV). Galatians 6:9-10 proclaims a responsibility to help everyone: “Let us not become weary in doing good…. Therefore, as we have opportunity, let us do good to all people, especially to those who belong to the family of believers.”

Christ put it plainly in the context of “the least of these” in Matthew 25. Here, Jesus challenges his followers (and us today) to help the stranger: “For I was hungry and you gave me food, I was thirsty and you gave me drink, I was a stranger and you welcomed me, I was naked and you clothed me, I was sick and you visited me, I was in prison and you came to me.” He concludes by saying, “Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least of these my brothers, you did it to me.” We find a similar theme in the parable of the Good Samaritan in Luke 10. The hero helps his neighbor, despite differences of faith and nationality, with Jesus concluding his followers should “go and do likewise.”

Who are “the least of these” for religious freedom? Who is our neighbor? Any person facing torture, beatings, jailing, and even death on account of their beliefs. To truly care for our global neighbors, to love them as we love our own, we should speak up for them as well as for our brothers and sisters in the faith. Heroic love of neighbor calls for Christians to fight for human rights and to assist the suffering, both our own and others.

The international environment for religious freedom is dismal. We must begin this work now. Restoring respect for religious freedom will take decades, if not generations. To borrow from Eugene Peterson, success will require a long obedience in the same direction. What the late Congressman John Lewis wrote about fighting for civil rights in America certainly applies to advocating for international religious freedom: “Ours is the struggle of a lifetime, or maybe even many lifetimes, and each one of us in every generation must do our part.”

While most cannot travel to the front lines, all can be steadfast in prayer, consistent in petitioning our elected leaders to act, and supportive of organizations working to advance religious freedom for all. In addition, resources are available to educate believers on the facts, to guide them in prayer, and to help them advocate effectively with policymakers. Great examples include Open Doors, Stefanus Alliance, CSW, and others.

Many churches’ observance of Holy Week leading up to Easter is a daily reminder of the sacrifice Jesus made for all humanity. To mark this proposed new holy week between All Saints’ Day and IDOP, let’s remember the modern saints suffering physical violence for the simplest of reasons: their Christian faith.

And during this week, while remembering how our brothers and sisters need our help, we can pray for our global neighbors from other religious traditions who also beckon for assistance. The church can have no better testimony of God’s love than advocating for religious freedom for all.

Knox Thames served as the State Department Special Advisor for Religious Minorities for both the Obama and Trump administrations. He is currently writing a book on 21st century strategies to combat religious persecution. You can follow him on Twitter @KnoxThames.

Speaking Out is Christianity Today’s guest opinion column and (unlike an editorial) does not necessarily represent the opinion of the magazine.

Religious Freedom Advocacy 101:

By moving governments and international institutions to act, religious freedom advocacy can save lives, free prisoners, and increase religious liberties. Anyone wishing to advocate for the oppressed and persecuted must act wisely and with great discernment. For every good story about international advocacy freeing a religious prisoner or reforming laws, there is another about an overly aggressive or troubling ill-informed activist causing more harm than good.

When developing a plan of action, religious freedom advocates should consider the following three rules:

1) Abide by the Hippocratic Oath:

“Do no harm” is an absolute rule. Advocates must coordinate their efforts with the victims or their families, as they will bear the brunt of any response to international advocacy.

2) Speak out for all:

It is also important for religious freedom advocacy groups to speak out against all forms of religious persecution and repression even if their coreligionists are not affected or persons of no faith are targeted. Often a positive conclusion in one case will be useful to others in similar situations. If not everyone can enjoy religious freedom, then there is not complete religious freedom for anyone.

3) Be truthful and fact-based:

Advocates must be very careful about the facts. If they are found to exaggerate or misrepresent, or to be ill informed, then they will have a difficult time persuading persons of power and influence. Advocates must resist the temptation to exaggerate and make a situation sound more compelling in hopes of spurring a faster response. For instance, the word

persecution

is often carelessly thrown around without any thought as to its true meaning. Overuse only cheapens the term and lessens the impact in actual situations of persecution.

Excerpts from

International Religious Freedom Advocacy: A Guide to Organizations, Laws and NGOs

- More from Knox Thames

News

College Presidents Need Mentors Too

Interview by Margaret Diddams

A conversation with Michael Lindsay and Beck Taylor.

On the surface, the life of a university president appears ideal: welcoming grateful alumni back to campus, dispensing wisdom to eager students over coffee, and conversing with erudite faculty members about their research.

The numbers, however, paint a different picture. For example, the American Council on Education’s American College President Study reports the average length of service for a university president continues to decline: 8.5 years in 2006, 7 years in 2011, and 6.5 in 2017.

In contrast to the previously noted activities, the American College President Study also reports the areas occupying a president’s time, in order, include (1) budget/financial management; (2) fundraising; (3) management of senior leaders; (4) relations with board members; and (5) enrollment management. Not surprising, only 25 percent of presidents previously served as presidents.

Some presidents, however, defy those trends. This week, Samford University hosts the inauguration of Beck A. Taylor as its 19th president. Earlier this fall, Taylor University hosted the inauguration of D. Michael Lindsay as its 18th president. (Lindsay sits on Christianity Today’s board of directors.)

Prior to their present appointments, these friends and fellow Baylor University graduates—Taylor from the class of 1992 and Lindsay from the class of 1994—respectively served as the presidents of Whitworth University for 11 years and Gordon College for 10 years. Part of what also makes them unique is that, even as they begin their second presidencies, Taylor and Lindsay are still more than a decade younger than the average university president’s 63 years.

Earlier this fall, Margaret Diddams, editor for Christian Scholar’s Review, talked with Taylor and Lindsay about their transitions, the people who helped prepare them for their previous and current appointments, and the role mentorship plays in preparing the next generation of leaders.

- More from Interview by Margaret Diddams

Theology

The Pro-Life Cause Is Now a Lower Priority for Christians. That’s Bad News for Everybody.

Russell Moore

Human dignity is not an earned right but a signpost to God.

Illustration by Mallory Rentsch / Source Images: Alex Wong / Petekarici / Getty Images

In less than a month, the Supreme Court will take up arguments on a Mississippi case that could conceivably spell the end of Roe v. Wade, which legalized abortion as a constitutional right. At the same time, the justices sent signals that they were perhaps dubious of a recent Texas law that sought to restrict abortion through civil liability measures.

For the first time in a while, it seems that abortion is at the forefront of conversation in the United States. And yet, some surveys suggest that abortion is not the motivating factor for evangelicals that it once was.

Those who disagree with me on abortion may feel it is good news that evangelicals are lessening their priority on the pro-life issue—thinking perhaps that a cooling down in the culture wars might lead to a less polarized America. But such people would be wrong. As a matter of fact, if this trend continues, it could be bad news for everybody.

Political scientist Ryan Burge collected polling data this summer from the Public Religion Research Institute (PRRI) and compared that with recent data gathered from the Association of Religion Data Archives. The poll asked respondents how they would rank their relative priority on various sociopolitical issues. Burge noted that, over time, the abortion issue has decreased in priority among white evangelicals and other issues, like immigration, have increased.

Most of this data was aggregated before critical race theory and COVID-19 dominated the public square. But many pollsters and activists say they see far more energy spent discussing race, masks, vaccines, and other topics. Abortion is low on the list.

Some argue that this has always been the case. For example, in his book Bad Faith: Race and the Rise of the Religious Right, religion scholar Randall Balmer arguesagainst the common assumption that Roe mobilized evangelicals into political action. He calls this idea a myth, contending instead that segregated academies threatened with losing their tax-exempt status were the real motivators—and that abortion was merely a convenient cover for the politics of white racial grievance.

That may well be true for some of the political strategy leaders at the time, but I remain skeptical of Balmer’s overall thesis. Even with the most cynical view possible of political-religious activist leadership (and I think I’ve earned the right to some cynicism here), there has to be a reason why such leaders would choose to emphasize abortion in grassroot movements. The question isn’t whether political strategists can manipulate the issue but rather what exactly is being manipulated. That is, one can only mobilize people around an issue they fundamentally care about.

A week or so ago, I was talking with a friend who disagrees with me on abortion. They asked me—with genuine curiosity—“Why do you all want to impose your religious views on everyone else by restricting abortion?”

This would be a fair critique, I responded, if evangelicals and other pro-lifers sought to enact “blue laws,” which banned Sunday commerce for everyone based on Levitical laws.

When it comes to abortion, however, the debate is not about whether society should protect the vulnerable, but about how many vulnerable people we should care about. In a pro-choice view of the matter, there is only one—the pregnant woman who must decide what to do with her body. For those of us who are pro-life, there are two vulnerable people here—the pregnant woman and the child within her womb—and we have a responsibility to consider both.

Former US Representative Barney Frank famously quipped that pro-lifers believe life begins at conception and ends at birth. This might well be true in some direct-mail fundraising operations, but it is not true for those at the grassroots level—those for whom this issue is a matter of action as well as conviction, those who work on the frontlines with pregnant women in crisis, or those who help children find families and safe homes.

As a matter of fact, these pro-life people can sometimes be the most sensitive to a holistic vision of human life and dignity. They are usually the ones who advocate for job training, childcare, and health care for women, so that no woman is put into a position where she must choose between the life of her child and her own well-being. Other pro-lifers are working in the foster care system or caring for people with disabilities in their homes.

Nearly every day, I speak with foster or adoptive parents who are giving their lives in service to children they love—those ravaged by fetal alcohol syndrome, infant drug addiction, severe mental illness, or those coming from impoverished families—and I have found that these people have almost always learned to love such children because they are pro-life.

When anchored biblically—rather than merely as a partisan political strategy—a pro-life viewpoint is a contradiction of social Darwinism, which estimates human value in inverse proportion to vulnerability.

Ayn Rand’s conception of the poor as losers and takers is absolutely contradicted by the Sermon on the Mount (along with the rest of the Bible). In ideological frameworks like Rand’s, human rights are linked with “viability”—the ability to survive on one’s own, independent of the womb and the life of another.

But those of us who follow a crucified Christ must recognize that none of us are “viable” in that sense. We always leave one womb to enter another—that of our mother to that of the biosphere around us. All of us are dependent on oxygen, water, and nutrition—and we are all interdependent upon each other.

At its best, a pro-life vision reminds us of why Jesus was indignant when his disciples saw children as a distraction from his mission. He pointed out that “to such belongs the children of God,” and that those who do not “receive the kingdom of God like a child shall not enter it.” The Lord welcomed children—other people’s children—and “blessed them” (Mark 10:13–16, ESV throughout).

The entire Bible shows us why this is. We come before God as those who, in our utter dependence, cry out, “Abba! Father!” (Rom. 8:15), and we learn to receive others as we have been received (Rom. 15:7). This means that in following Christ, we, like him, are able to see the people we would rather or otherwise keep invisible—the poor, the stranger, the vulnerable, the unviable, the un-useful.

We see the folly in human boasts of strength—whether about one’s net worth, physical attractiveness, or “stage of development,” whether living in the uterus of a mother or in a nursing home forgotten by everyone. Human dignity is not an earned right but a signpost to God, pointing every human life back to the Word who took on flesh and dwelt among us.

That’s why we must constantly ask ourselves, “Who are the people in our lives for whom it is inconvenient—whether in terms of our social status, financial security, religious tribes, or political identities—for us to even see?”

The priest and the Levite in Jesus’ parable of the Good Samaritan probably did not think of themselves as antagonists in the story of the beaten man by the Jericho Road (Luke 10:25–37). They averted their eyes, seeing this man as a minor character, soon forgotten in the story of their lives. But Jesus says he will judge the “goats” on Judgment Day all the same for having no idea that they have neglected the poor, the naked, the hungry, and the imprisoned in their midst (Matt. 25:31–46).

This is why some of us were so concerned about political movements that celebrated winning and delighted in denigrating the weak—whether the disabled, refugees, or the elderly. It is also why some of us believed that waving away credible claims of sexual promiscuity and even sexual assault cannot sustain a pro-life movement long-term, no matter how many good judges are appointed.

When people are judged by their usefulness, the unborn are deemed dispensable as soon as they cannot help someone win an election. Whenever we make a determination on which people matter and which people don’t, we lose the possibility of building a culture that supports life and family values, human rights, or social justice. In the end, all we are left with are constituencies to reward and enemies to punish.

At its best, the pro-life movement once cut across the polarized culture wars. Despite the publicized images in popular culture of angry protesters screaming at women outside abortion clinics, this did not happen most of the time—for the very reason that most pro-life activists sought to persuade women to choose life for their children. You cannot do that if you are focused on demonizing, intimidating, or overpowering people. In order to be true to itself, the pro-life movement had to be about loving your neighbor, not about owning the libs.

White racial grievance and fear of those who are different, by contrast, is not about loving your neighbor but about preserving yourself. And when these become badges of identity, human life begins to be defined not by the image of God, but in terms of its likeness to us—and we define “us” more and more narrowly all the time. This is the way of Cain, especially when the way of Abel—or the way of the Cross—starts to look “weak.”

In his new book, A World After Liberalism: Philosophers of the Radical Right, Matthew Rose points with data to a phenomenon present in so-called populist movements in Europe and now in North America. Many of these groups claim Christian identity or use its symbolism, because it helps to use the struggle to preserve “Western civilization” or “Judeo-Christian culture” as a way to ground ethnic or national identity.

But often, the people driving ideas behind the scenes are hostile to Christianity—not because Christianity is too narrow, too moralistic, or too intolerant, but because it is too globalist and egalitarian. Christianity upends ethnic and national superiorities because, as Rose writes, it requires non-Jewish Gentiles of all nations to “adopt the sacred history and even the deity of another community, connecting their deepest beliefs to the unique experiences of a foreign people,” namely, the people of Israel.

Most importantly, these post-religious illiberal movements ultimately revolt against what Rose calls “the essence of the Christian Question,” which is this: “Christianity denied what antiquity had serenely assumed: that the strong are destined to rule the weak, that we have no obligations to strangers, and that our identities are constituted by our social status.”

Rose warns that a post-Christian populism would “give defiant expression to primordial passions, once disciplined by religion, that liberalism tried to repress—about preserving cultural differences, punishing enemies, and deposing disloyal elites.” In other words, as Ross Douthat says in issuing a warning to secular America: “If you thought the Religious Right was bad, just wait until you see the post-religious right.”

If the dignity and sanctity of human life is replaced in priority of passion with the will-to-power, the unborn will suffer. But they will not suffer alone. Every vulnerable person—whose dignity isn’t justified by his or her capacity—will suffer too.

Instead, we might find ourselves in a place where we don’t argue about abortion anymore, not because we’ve settled the issue, but because we’ve replaced the worldly gods of Zeus, Thor, or Baal—the gods of thunder, power, fertility, or various tribes—with this proclamation: “Yes, Jesus loves me; the Bible tells me so.”

Russell Moore leads the Public Theology Project at Christianity Today.

News

Wire Story

Army Attacks Continue in Myanmar’s Most Christian State

Grant Peck in Bangkok – The Associated Press

In a town in the Chin region, government soldiers burned and looted homes and churches.

Chin Human Rights Organization via AP

More than 160 buildings in a town in northwestern Myanmar, including at least two churches, have been destroyed by fires caused by shelling by government troops, local media and activists reported Saturday.

The destruction of parts of the town of Thantlang in Chin state appeared to be another escalation in the ongoing struggle between Myanmar’s military-installed government and forces opposed to it. The army seized power in February from the elected government of Aung San Suu Kyi, but has failed to quell the widespread resistance.

The Chin state is a heavily Christian area in the otherwise majority-Buddhist country. Over 90 percent of the ethnic Chin people identify as Christian, many of them Baptists after the history of Baptist missionaries in the region.

A government spokesman denied “nonsense allegations being reported in the country-destroying media,” and blamed insurgents for instigating the fighting and setting the fires.

Human rights groups and UN experts recently warned that the government is planning a major offensive in the country’s northwest, including Chin state, along with the regions of Magway and Sagaing. Residents of the rugged area have a reputation for their fierce fighting spirit, and have put up stiff resistance to military rule despite being only lightly armed with single-shot hunting rifles and homemade weapons.

There were no immediate reports of casualties from the fire, which started early Friday and burned through the night, according to reports.

Dave Eubank, head of the Christian humanitarian service movement Free Burma Rangers, said the attacks against Christian homes and businesses in the area are due to resistance to the regime, rather than targeting a particular faith.

“I do not see a large policy directed towards Christians, it’s just Christians are in the way,” he told CT.

The humanitarian aid agency Save the Children said its offices were in one of the buildings that was “deliberately set ablaze.”

“The destruction caused by this violence is utterly senseless. Not only has it damaged one of our offices, it risks destroying the whole town and the homes of thousands of families and children,” said a statement from the London-headquartered agency.

Thantlang had already been largely abandoned due to previous attacks by government soldiers.

Eighteen other houses and a hotel were destroyed by fire set off by another shelling on September 18, and a Christian pastor was shot when he tried to help put out the blaze. According to an Asia Pacific Baptists, pastor Cung Biak Hum had come to the assistance of a congregant whose home was burning.

More than 10,000 residents then fled the town, some staying temporarily in nearby villages and others seeking shelter across the border in Mizoram, India. About 20 staff and children in care of an orphanage on the outskirts of the town are believed to be its only remaining residents.

The Chin Human Rights Organization issued a statement saying the fires in Thantlang had died down by Saturday morning, after as many as 200 houses may have been destroyed.

“Most of the structures on the main street, which has shop stalls and all kinds of businesses, have been destroyed. There is nothing left to salvage,” said the statement, signed by the group’s deputy executive director, Salai Za Uk Ling. “The manner in which the fire was burning indicates that it was not just the incendiary rocket fires but also deliberately torching of houses and structures manually.”

According to the Chinland Defense Force-Thantlang, a local militia fighting the military, a Presbyterian Church and a building housing the Pentecostal Church on the Rock were among the 164 structures it had counted destroyed by fire.

The defense force said the shelling began after fighting broke out when it tried to prevent government soldiers from looting a house in the town.

In a phone interview Saturday night on state television MRTV, government spokesman Maj. Gen. Zaw Min Tun said the events began when members of the PDF—or People’s Defense Forces, as the local militia are generally known—attacked security forces, who returned fire. He said the insurgents took cover in houses in the town and set fires as they fled, keeping government reinforcements from putting out the flames by shooting at them.

He added that it was not possible to bring firefighting resources from the state capital, Hakha, because a bridge on the road connecting the towns had been blown up on October 21.

“It’s needless to say who blew up the bridge. These videos can be found on country-destroying media,” said Zaw Min Thin, in a reference to video that circulated widely on social video showing several explosive charges being detonated on the span. He described the sequence of events as “a deliberate plot.”

The statement from the Chin Human Rights Organization expressed concern that what happened may represent just the beginning of a major government offensive known as “Operation Anawrahta.” The government has not acknowledged such a plan.

“The high number of troops being sent to Chin state in recent days and weeks has been truly unprecedented. They have brought with them destruction and death,” said the human rights group. It called for urgent action on the part of the UN Security Council “to help prevent mass atrocities before they happen.”

Additional reporting by CT

- More from Grant Peck in Bangkok – The Associated Press

News

Reaching Youth for Christ During Sudan’s Coup

Jayson Casper

When the military closed Khartoum’s airport and disrupted their discipleship training, a generational odd couple from YFC Lebanon improvised and preached to hundreds of students.

An outdoor YFC youth meeting in al-Thawra near Wad Madani, Sudan.

John Sagherian

At 6:30 a.m. last Monday, John Sagherian and Elie Heneine went down to the lobby of their three-star hotel in eastern Sudan and found a crowd gathered around a TV. Filtering in, they heard the news.

The military had staged a coup in the capital, Khartoum, 90 miles to the northwest.

“Instantly, everything we planned for that day was up in the air,” said Heneine, a 27-year-old staff worker with Youth for Christ (YFC) Lebanon. “Oh well, youth work is very organic.”

Sagherian, the 74-year-old YFC regional director, had long been “dying to visit” Sudan. Two years earlier, he had identified a promising country director named Sabet, who since then had recruited seven other volunteer staff members. Sabet even ignored the capital, concentrating instead on the poorer hinterland.

The Lebanese team of two were finally scheduled to meet their new Sudanese colleagues later that day. As malaria had been among their concerns, they had taken 100 mg of medication every day for two weeks prior. The visa had also been a complication, requiring multiple layers of bureaucracy. But it was the BBC app that now troubled Joy, Heneine’s American wife of five months, as Sudan increasingly filled her news feed.

Heneine himself was at peace. Not only was he used to instability as a Lebanese Christian, but Sabet and others assured them everything was fine—despite the political tumult between the once-cooperating military and civilian leaders.

In 2019, the Sudanese army backed massive protests to overthrow 30-year dictator Omar al-Bashir. A spate of religious freedom reforms replaced his Islamist governance, normalization agreements were signed with the nation’s former enemy Israel, and the US removed Sudan from its list of state sponsors of terrorism.

The economy was struggling, but the World Bank was poised to help. Sudan was almost ready to rejoin the community of nations. But politicians were bickering, and a military coup had been suppressed only one month earlier.

In the background was disagreement over sending Bashir to the International Criminal Court to be tried for war crimes in Darfur. Deeper still were issues of army control of large sectors of the economy. And at an unspecified but fast-approaching date, the transitional Sovereign Council was supposed to switch to civilian leadership.

Two days before the coup, the YFC team had traveled three hours over bumpy roads with multiple checkpoints to reach Wad Madani, Sudan’s ninth-largest city. Sabet’s youth office was located in an evangelical school, and he’d invited Sagherian to preach to the local congregation that Sunday evening.

The Tekilat evangelical church in Wad Madani, Sudan

With men sitting up front on plastic chairs and women behind, about 30 people filled the three-walled, tin-roofed structure. Such impromptu invitations were not unusual for the still-active senior, so Sagherian pulled out a message he had given often to Lebanese, Syrian, and Egyptian youth.

The title proved prophetic: “Why Is God Doing This to Us?”

“Do we become angry and bitter or say, ‘What now, Lord?’” Sagherian recalled preaching. “And then the coup happened [the next day].”

He spoke from experience. Ten years earlier, his beloved wife, Nancy, died of cancer. Her acceptance of God’s will in their final weeks together inspired another decade of her husband’s ongoing service.

Eventually, the team learned that Christians in Wad Madani had joined their fellow Muslim citizens in overwhelmingly rejecting the coup. But first, YFC had to reach the local believers.

A group of 35 leaders from the three evangelical churches in the city had been prepped for their arrival. Sabet went to learn firsthand whether the training sessions would still be held; it was two hours of silence before he returned.

“They are waiting for you,” he said.

Sabet hailed a tuk-tuk, one of the three-wheeled auto rickshaws that serve as local taxis. The three leaders joined five others and a baby goat sitting on the rail, knees knocking, continuously jostling, as the 15-year-old driver navigated the poorly paved road.

“That was a lot of human beings, and I am like five people,” said Heneine. “It was the workout of our lives just to hold on.”

That was only the start. Moving across town, they witnessed protesters breaking up the sidewalk to pile makeshift barriers to block traffic. They circled the neighborhood looking for a thruway, only to turn back and discover a new one. Eventually they pleaded as “one of the people” and were allowed passage.

But there was no animosity, said Heneine. Unlike in his native Lebanon, there was incredible unity among the Sudanese, with none opposed to anyone except the coup leaders.

And they were also organized. The Sudanese would go to their jobs, except they would not work—answering the call for civil disobedience. And at noon they would gather in the streets, block roads, and burn tires. Even the bread lines, an unfortunate consequence of the economic stress, would disappear.

Sagherian instructed the youth workers from Psalm 78: David led the people with competence and integrity of heart. It appeared evident all around.

By Tuesday (October 25), the YFC team grew to recognize the rhythms of the protest and how to best move around. By the afternoon, the government had cut off phone and internet service across the nation to disrupt the protest movement. It also disrupted YFC’s best-laid plans.

So they continued to disciple Sabet and his seven staff members and resigned themselves to a reduced training schedule. Now relaxed, they enjoyed a fish lunch with lemonade on the banks of the Blue Nile. And they took a PCR test, ready to fly home the next day—only to learn on Wednesday that the airport had been closed.

Stuck, the YFC leaders scrambled and called for a youth meeting in a poor village on the outskirts of town the next evening.

Sabet worked with the headmaster, who about a decade earlier had become the neighborhood’s first convert to Christianity. But he wasn’t the last. Sharing the gospel, this man gathered new believers into a mud-hut home fellowship. Then he built a church; then, a school. And now he called the 95 percent Muslim student body to attend a youth rally—and told Sagherian he should preach clearly about Jesus.

Students in a classroom in al-Thawra near Wad Madani, Sudan

Raised as a pastor’s kid in the Armenian evangelical community of Lebanon, Sagherian was familiar with altar calls. He assumed national leadership of YFC in 1974, becoming the Middle East and North Africa regional director in 2010. From decades of ministry experience among mostly Christian-background students, he expected maybe 100 kids to show up. It would be incredible if five gave their lives to the Lord.

Over 1,000 filled the dirt-covered schoolyard grounds.

Sagherian adapted his usual YFC anecdotes:

Imagine you had to swim from the Red Sea coast to India. Some of you might get farther than others. But none of you would make it. Your good lives cannot satisfy God.

Imagine if I suddenly had the mind of Ronaldo controlling me. I’m 74, but I’m darting all over the soccer field, scoring goals. This is what happens when Jesus comes into our lives: We now satisfy God.

He asked those who wanted to give their lives to Jesus to stand up. Nervous, one did here, then there. But before long, the entire student gathering was upright.

Wait—something was off. Sagherian pressed the importance of the decision. Having the students sit down, he asked them this time to raise their hands. Perhaps more aware, 80 percent did so.

God knows the heart, he counseled himself. And he remembered his father’s words from many years ago: “You talked to them about God. Now talk to God about them.”

Heading back to the hotel, the YFC team learned the airport would open the next day, but nothing was certain. They woke at 5:30 a.m. and providentially arranged a taxi. Entering Khartoum, they saw lines of well-armed police officers. Saturday was to be a million-man demonstration, and the security forces were preparing. (To date, 15 protesters have been killed.)

Another PCR test was required at the airport, but the office was closed. Somehow, the man in charge agreed to come, two hours later than promised. The clock was ticking. But the nose swab’s negative results were returned in five minutes—surely an example of Sudanese corruption but perhaps also of God’s provision.

The airport was sweltering, packed with people anxious to leave the country. But boarding was smooth, and after an overnight layover in Addis Ababa, their Ethiopian Airlines red-eye flight landed in Beirut.

“We were living out the promises of God,” said Sagherian. “I never felt we were in danger, and we learned that so many people were praying for us.”

They asked instead for a shift in focus.

“We were two people who did our ministry and left, while Sudan continues to fight with itself,” said Heneine. “Be praying for them.”

Sabet told them that he has always been free within church buildings. But only since the revolution had he been able to minister in the public square. “People don’t care about religious background any longer,” he told them, and his good reputation in the village earned him much trust.

But Sabet doesn’t know what will happen after the coup.

In a potentially ominous sign, military leaders have released some of Bashir’s top officials from jail. International actors continue to mediate, while the deposed prime minister holds his ground.

So much is at stake for the Sudanese.

But for the Lebanese, who simply expected a normal time of training youth, the experience was transformative. Sagherian choked up, recalling the opportunity to share the gospel with so many Muslim youth. Heneine learned how to “wait on the Lord” from his senior colleague.

“God moved circumstances and people, putting us in places we couldn’t have imagined,” said Heneine. “It was like a well-played chess match, and God won.”

- More from Jayson Casper

News

Ministries Help Job Seekers Find a Paycheck with a Purpose

Ericka Andersen

After losing shift work and blue collar jobs during shutdowns, Christians are thinking more carefully about the work of their hands as they reenter the marketplace.

Courtesy of Travis Lowe / Crea Company

No one dreams of seeking work after retirement, but sometimes a pension isn’t enough. West Virginian Henry Shinn, 61, found himself there last year as the COVID-19 pandemic wracked the nation.

With nothing but an unlikely product design brewing in his mind, he approached Crea Company—a faith-based organization that works with creators to bring their ideas to life.

Within months, Crea Company had helped him formulate a plan and secure the machines and materials necessary to launch West Virginia Trail Chips. The company produces durable wooden tokens in the form of unique, collection-worthy business cards. Shinn now earns a steady income from his part-time business, working from home and creating his products in the Crea workshop for an affordable monthly fee.

Crea’s mission-based framework to provide a “future that inspires hope” for West Virginians is one example of how Christians are helping one another through unsteady economic times and job difficulties.

Bonus? It comes with the perk of built-in coworkers. Fellow creators, who also believe in the Christian mission of the local “makerspace,” are there to ask questions, give advice, and offer direction.

“You are just more apt to be friendly and helpful in that kind of environment,” Shinn said in an interview with Christianity Today.

Crea cofounder Travis Lowe, who also pastors Crossroads Church in Bluefield, West Virginia, saw interest rise soon after the pandemic spawned. After starting Crea in 2019, its purpose shifted to meet the community’s needs as the pandemic hit.

“Our original model,” said Lowe, “was to offer community groups [the opportunity for] maker classes—like, come make a doormat or planter—and have memberships. But COVID made that almost impossible.”

In 2020, Lowe pivoted to a new model: making personal protective equipment (PPE) supplies to help local medical providers and offering the chance for others to create and sell their own products. Folks who lost work, such as “cleaners and restaurant workers,” were “looking for side gigs to make extra money,” Lowe said via email.

Now they’ve set up shop to repair lawn mower engines, design leather goods, fabricate metal signs, 3D-print materials, and print shirts, hats, and koozies.

One member, a disabled coal miner, made personalized masks and began selling them online; a popular version made wearers look like Hulk Hugan. An engineer seeking a side hustle used Crea’s 3D printers and recycled small engine parts to make props for student films at Liberty University. A local pastor used Crea’s lasers to custom engrave his woodwork, now displayed on each table in his son’s newly opened restaurant in town.

Employment struggles aren’t new to West Virginia, the sixth-poorest state in the nation with a 16 percent poverty rate. But things got tougher in 2020, as lockdowns demolished local economies.

Last year alone, the US lost 9.37 million jobs, the highest number in 80 years. And while the unemployment rate currently stands at 4.8 percent—and lower-level jobs are facing a worker shortage—many are still seeking jobs that will provide the same pay and benefits as pre-pandemic positions they lost. According to Pew, the vast majority of those people are pessimistic about their prospects and do not want to settle for unfulfilling, subordinate jobs.

That’s where churches and ministries like Crea can play a role, and many people are hoping they will continue to do so. Recently released Barna data finds that 1 in 5 US adults want the local church to address “vocational well-being.”

Larger churches have the capacity to do so more comprehensively. In 2013, Chicago-based Willow Creek Community Church launched the Willow Creek Care Center—a program developed in response to huge need within the church. The Care Center has played a pivotal role for church members in 2020 and 2021.

Though many of their popular in-person programs like counseling sessions, support groups, and job skills workshops were on hold in 2020, the center continued to facilitate outdoor job fairs and a variety of other online support opportunities.

“We are seeing unusually difficult cases [right now],” said Anne Rand, the center’s long-term solutions advocate. “It’s people who have been out of the workforce for many years, so they don’t have the computer skills or know-how to navigate a job search in today’s tech-savvy environment.”

Chicago resident Lisa Klavan sought help from Willow Creek this year. She appreciated that the center was willing to pray for her. “The level of concern and care was deeper than with a secular group,” said Klavan, who is still searching for a job.

Most churches don’t have a program as comprehensive as Willow Creek, but many do have job boards or partner with ministries invested in faith-based work endeavors.

Such partnerships are especially vital in this time of societal upheaval, said Andy Crouch, a partner at Praxis Labs, an organization dedicated to Christian entrepreneurs.

“I think the fact that churches have found creative ways to guide people towards employment is exactly what we should be doing,” he said. “When the system is broken down, redemptive people step in.”

The fact only 1 in 5 Americans are seeking the church’s help for vocational matters, per Barna’s data, demonstrates how many people don’t know that help is “available or plausible,” Crouch said.

“That’s what the church should be providing—asking everyone, ‘What’s broken? Can we help you think about how you could be a part of repairing what’s broken?’”

The good news is that younger generations are more likely to look for vocational guidance from faith groups: According to Barna, 7 in 10 Gen Z (67%) and millennial (69%) adults were interested.

David Bell had these groups in mind when he founded Circle City Fellows, a Christian nonprofit intended to encourage and disciple Christians in a wide variety of careers to live out their work “on mission” for Jesus. He’s worked with everyone from financial planners and realtors to bartenders and a stay-at-home mom. The program includes weekly classes on spiritual formation, theology, and other culturally relevant topics that affect work life. The fellowship also holds regular in-person meetings for relational connection, idea exchange, and encouragement.

Though the program is only three years old, Bell continued to push forward and help those working through the pandemic, despite the difficulties.

“The pandemic gave a different angle to the types of questions people were asking,” Bell said, adding that participants are “reflecting on themselves and what steps they can take to contribute to the thriving and flourishing of the city” in a deeper way.

Flourishing is certainly the ultimate goal, but equipping those in survival mode this past year has been a central focus for many churches. This shouldn’t necessarily be a primary function in the long term, however, said Crouch.

He believes that when society is functioning as it should—with well-built structures to support job creation and sustainment—churches are more of a secondary resource for job acquisition.

“When those [structures] are in place,” he said, “it is the church’s job, then, to help people understand why it is such a good thing to do good work and find good work and contribute to society through good work.” Otherwise, the church should “fill in the gaps for the most vulnerable,” which is what we have seen from many folks since the pandemic began.

As life gravitates back to normal and base-level work is acquired, people can begin thinking about the deeper purpose to their work. For some, the pandemic was the jump-start they needed to finally leap into a more meaningful vocation.

Louisa Saylor is one of those. The 33-year-old mother, musician, and ministry leader did something she never expected last year: quit her teaching job. When the expectations and pressure became untenable, she sought an exit strategy.

“My first year of teaching, I cried every day,” she said. “But I cried more during COVID teaching than I did during a typical school year—and I’ve worked in some pretty rough inner-city schools.”

The politics, policies, and added work for teachers during the pandemic broke her, and she began praying about leaving just two months after it began. Ultimately, it was a church that came to her rescue, in the form of a job offer to work in teen ministry. After applying to dozens of jobs, Saylor considered it an answered prayer—and it restored her back to the purpose she and so many other Christians long for in their work lives.

According to the Barna report, churchgoing Christians are more likely to seek and find purpose in their jobs than others. Most say their local churches do help them understand how to live out their faith in the workplace, and there has been an uprising of parachurch ministries structured around work-life purpose in recent years.

WorkFaith in Texas provides faith-based training and coaching for those seeking long-term employment. Faith Driven Entrepreneur gathers creators for support and purpose building. Colorado’s Denver Institute for Faith and Work explores the connection and tension between “what it means to love God and our neighbors through our work.”

And in Indianapolis, Purposeful Design trains and equips formerly homeless and addicted individuals for woodworking positions, focusing on marketable physical and attitudinal skills. Most organizations did continue throughout the pandemic, though they may have been operating at lower capacity.

It’s clear that many leaders, in both churches and outside ministries, have a passion for helping others obtain substantive work and find God-given purpose within it. The pandemic upended work life—slashing jobs, closing offices, and forcing health risks for frontline workers—but the innate human desire to thrive remained.

Lowe, the cofounder of Crea, felt called to facilitate that for others. He aims to help vulnerable people overcome barriers like startup expenses, necessary tools, business coaching, mentorships, and relational connections. And he has done so, offering men like Henry Shinn a chance to create profit when few other opportunities existed.

“When you couple opportunity with the ability to back it up with faith,” said Shinn, “even those with very little direction are now flourishing and profitable.”

- More from Ericka Andersen

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