As part of our daily lessons, I teach my children about church history. While we often delve into the stories of early church martyrs and theologians, this past term, I decided to introduce a more modern perspective.
For my daughter’s sixth-grade study in church history, we’ve been reading the book Tortured for Christ by Richard Wurmbrand. This powerful account sheds light on the persecution that occurred in Romania during the communist regime. Wurmbrand, a pastor during the 1950s-1960s, witnessed firsthand the suffering of Romanian Christians who were targeted by the Communist party. His writing not only shares glimpses of his own years of torture in prison but also highlights the experiences of other believers he encountered.
As we progress through the second half of the book, Pastor Wurmbrand confronts the lies propagated by atheists and communists. He points to various testimonies of those who courageously stood against these falsehoods. Additionally, Pastor Wurmbrand passionately emphasizes the responsibility of Christian brothers and sisters in free countries to support their fellow believers who face persecution.
“Tortured for Christ” serves as a poignant reminder of the unwavering resilience and deep faith exhibited by those who endured unimaginable hardships for their beliefs. This powerful account encourages us to reflect on our own commitment to truth and solidarity with persecuted Christians worldwide.
Throughout my lifetime, I’ve read countless books, but only a few have left an indelible mark on my soul. Tortured for Christ is one of those transformative works. Richard Wurmbrand’s vivid storytelling transports readers to the heart of suffering and sacrifice during Romania’s communist regime.
One of my favorite passages occurs on pages 44-49, where Pastor Wurmbrand told about a regular experience he had in prison:
“It was strictly forbidden to preach to other prisoners, as it is in captive nations today. It was understood that whoever was caught doing received a severe beating. A number of us decided to pay the price for the privilege of preaching, so we accepted their terms. It was a deal: we preached and they beat us. We were happy preaching; they were happy beating us–so everyone was happy” (Wurmbrand, 2013 p.44).
As I continue reading Tortured for Christ, Pastor Wurmbrand shares a powerful account of Christian courage amidst unimaginable suffering. He recounts instances where fellow believers, while sharing the gospel with fellow prisoners, were brutally interrupted and beaten. Yet, remarkably, when these damaged preachers were returned to their cells, they would adjust themselves and ask their listeners, “‘Now, brethren, where did I leave off when I was interrupted?’ And they would continue their gospel message!” (Wurmbrand, 2013, p. 45).
This ongoing pattern of resilience and unwavering commitment is deeply convicting. It prompts me to reflect on my own faith journey: How am I being persecuted for my Savior? How am I willing to endure hardship and sacrifice for Him?
As I sit in my comfortable recliner, surrounded by my Bible and prayer journal, I recognize that my everyday disciplines must also be my sacrifice. Diligently praying, remaining faithful to God’s Word, nurturing my children’s love for their Savior, sacrificially loving my husband, living selflessly, taming my prideful tongue, discerning truth from lies, and walking in grace and tenderness toward others—these are my offerings. Although I may not face physical torment for my faith, I can strive to hold fast to it in a world that constantly pulls me away.
Tortured for Christ serves as a powerful reminder that faith transcends circumstances, and our commitment to truth remains steadfast even when we are not physically beaten or bruised. May we, too, continue our gospel message, undeterred by obstacles, and stand firm in our Savior.
My cross is to live out my faith in a world of comfort—a challenge no less significant than enduring the confines of a dirty prison cell. Perhaps, in this free, wealthy, and comfortable world, crucifying myself proves to be a more demanding task than bearing literal stripes upon my back from another’s whip.
Another lesson from the book resonates deeply: the pettiness that sometimes plagues believers in the free world. Richard Wurmbrand explains that the persecuted church renders our comfortable churches void and meaningless by comparison:
“The Bible verses are not well known in many countries, because Bibles are not permitted. Besides, the preacher had most likely been in prison for years without a Bible…They are like Job who said that he would believe in God even if He would slay him. They are like Jesus who called God “Father,’ even when He was seemingly forsaken on the cross” (Wurmbrand, 2013, p. 89).
As an American Christian, surrounded by stacks of Bibles on my shelves, Bible apps bursting with biblical podcasts on my phone, and a collection of books written by believers spanning centuries, one might assume that I’ve been blessed with abundant opportunities to follow Christ. Yet, in the light of a man who possesses no Bible, no church, and no Christian books or podcasts—laying on the cold floor of his prison cell for the sake of his beloved Savior—I feel like a very small believer indeed.
This stark contrast has given me profound perspective on what truly matters. Believers in persecuted countries don’t have the luxury to engage in disagreements over worship styles, Bible translations, or the role of women in church leadership. The causes we often prioritize in our comfortable Christian churches can sometimes distract us from the essence of the gospel. It’s a sobering reminder that our focus should remain on Christ and His mission.
In a world where self-promotion is rampant, may we humbly seek to live out our faith, bearing witness to the love and sacrifice of our Savior. Let us prioritize what truly matters and hold fast to the precious gospel, regardless of our circumstances.
Believers universally agree on the centrality of Christ and the grace poured out on their souls for salvation. Their hunger for fellowship with other believers drives them to meet faithfully, even at the cost of imprisonment or death. In stark contrast, the persecuted church makes every American Christian appear feeble by comparison.
Truth be told, if I did not rest entirely in Christ’s atonement on my behalf—despite the ease and sinfulness of the world I inhabit—I would seriously question the security of my own soul. It is not by my own efforts but by His grace that I stand. Otherwise, I might be tempted to flee to a country where suffering for His sake would honor Him more profoundly.
In this contemplation, my heart zeroes in on the crux of the matter: it is all about Him. With every poignant testimony I encounter in Pastor Wurmbrand’s book, I glimpse the worthiness of Christ. Yes, He merits every sufferer’s pain and every martyr’s death. Jesus is immeasurably precious to those who love Him, compelling us to daily pick up our cross and follow Him. Whether that cross resembles the chains of a prison cell or the comfort of our lives, both serve as reminders of our devotion to honor Him who carried and died on the cross that was meant for me.
When I survey the wondrous cross
on which the Prince of glory died,
my richest gain I count but loss,
and pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast
save in the death of Christ, my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them through his blood.
See, from his head, his hands, his feet,
sorrow and love flow mingled down.
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
that were a present far too small.
Love so amazing, so divine,
demands my soul, my life, my all. -Isaac Watts