I am not able to name her for security reasons. When this lady’s husband was burned alive by Hindu extremists, he had no funeral, no candlelight vigils, no media publicity, no sympathy from the public. I had an opportunity to meet this brave young lady and she graciously shared her story with me, crying while sharing it. She cannot openly share her name because she lives in the same town where this happened. The Swami was killed by his own people as confessed by them later due to their internal dispute. The Christians were the scapegoats and those in prison are still professing their innocence. The numbers killed exceeded hundred due to burial of the people, unlike what Wiki says. Around 500 people were killed,(though no one is accepting this, but the cremation grounds showed those many skeletons by one report) thousands were injured, 300 churches and 6,000 homes were destroyed, and 50,000 people were displaced, with many forced to hide in nearby forests where many died of hunger and snakebites. It is said in one website, ” It is beyond doubt that the violence was premeditated, pre-planned and the work of a well-disciplined group to ensure simultaneous eruption across the Kandhamal district within hours of the first incident and to sustain it for five days despite the presence of the highest police officers in the region.”
The Hindu activists keep saying Christians are converting Hindus by force. This rice bag theory is fake propaganda too. The untouchable castes were helped by the Christians missionaries medically and given rations, like rice. If the “low castes” were treated kindly by Christian missionaries, would they not be grateful? Especially when the high-castes did not come near them and would not touch them? Many were drawn to Christianity because of the love and no caste-ism. Many others have had a personal encounter with Christ, touching them in some way. Read the thousands of testimonies of why they converted. I could not find one where they were forced! Not one! The simple truth is God sends His message of Love throughout the world. It is commissioned in the Bible by Christ to share this message called the Gospel, which is why Christians share it. He keeps people in their own countries to share this message or sends them overseas, but while Christian missionaries are simply messengers, no human can convert a soul, it is Spirit to spirit, only God is the true converter of souls. By killing Christians thinking they are the converters, religious activists are in great danger of actually fighting with God! In John 16:8, Jesus promised to send the Holy Spirit: “When the Spirit comes, He will convict the world concerning sin and righteousness and judgment.”
Rita
Lady in Odisha, India
Early Days: I lived in the district of Kalahandi In Odisha, with my parents, two other sisters and one brother. One particular evening, as the shadows grew longer and the blazing orange ball of fire sunk down, my mother was busy preparing to do the pooja at home. The thick sweet smell of incense, the shrill tingling of bells, the droning of the pandit who came to the home, as well as the statues in the pooja room that evening filled me with fear. I felt if I failed to do a ritual, one of the gods would punish me. I was scared of my gods, but afraid to tell my parents that. They were staunch Brahmin Hindus.
Odisha is an old historic state where once the Mauryan Emperor Ashoka fought the famous battle of Kalinga in 261 BC, a place where the sight of blood and violence broke his heart and changed him forever to embrace nonviolence and Buddhism. With cultural roots steeped in the stone and iron age of India, in folklore, music and dance, with chanting priests, temple bells, and the home of many a militant Maoist, Hindus, among thousands of Christian converts over the years, Odisha flourishes with its panoramic history.
Through this panorama, one day, I saw a movie on Jesus and it deeply touched my life. I wanted to know more about this Christian god who seemed to kind and caring and did marvelous miracles. Later down the years, I met a Christian girl from school. I summoned up courage and asked her, “Can you give me a Bible?”
“Oh, sure!” replied the Christian girl surprised. She eventually gave me a Bible, but never taught me how to read it, and the Bible remained in my room gathering dust as I did not know where to start.
The Greatest Encounter: When I was in college, I had an opportunity to meet a pastor. I was very excited. I never met a Christian pastor before. I saw a man whose eyes were filled with light and the power of a presence I could never call “low”.
I asked the pastor timidly “Can you teach me to read the Bible?” The pastor looked at me and said quietly, “Pray to God and ask Him to teach you to read, pray and then open the Bible, and keep reading and learning in this way.” That night when I went home, I happily got out my Bible out and started to pray hard to God, “Dear God, please show me how to read this Bible, I do not know anything.” As I spoke to God, I felt my heart rise up with joy. I had never felt like this with any of my temple visits, even when I tried to pray. That night, when I first opened the Bible, the page opened to the book of John! The whole plan of salvation leaped out from the pages and every word spoke deep into my heart. That night, after reading a lot of the book of John, I knelt at my bedside and gave my heart and life to Jesus. Such love and unspeakable joy flooded my soul. I knew this Jesus was real and He was wonderful.
Rejection: Later that night I was very excited softly whispered to my mother, “Mother, I have accepted Christ in my life as my Lord and Savior!”
“You what?” gasped my mother and her eyes flashed angrily and she said sharply “You told me this, but you must never tell anyone, and never your father, perhaps in a few weeks, this madness of yours will pass away. You know you are a Brahmin.”
I did not say a word, but deep in my heart, a purposeful direction came, I felt I had a do a few things to secure the veracity of my decision. Early the next morning, I got ready, was ready for breakfast, and spoke to my father saying boldly, “Father, I need to tell you something, I have become a Christian.” My father’s face changed colour. At that moment, he looked purple. I had not expected such a reaction. He went up to me and hit me.
“You take back what you said, and I will stop beating you” he shouted. I shook my head and so he dragged me to my room and shut me in and locked the door. I stood in shock, shaking violently that I could barely cry. The clock ticked by. Hours passed. My mother tried to talk me into confessing I was not a Christian, but I could not comply. I had experienced the reality of Jesus, I could not give Him up. He would rescue me, so I started praying and I prayed much.
I was locked in my room for a year and they would give me only food and water. Those were long waiting days and weeks and I began to wonder if I was doing the right thing. “If I say I do not believe, I can have everything, all the comforts, I can enjoy life and be like a free bird, should I just say no, I don’t believe in Jesus?’
A voice also started to whisper to me, “You are being a foolish girl, how do you not know what you had was just an emotional experience, and in the end you will have nothing, no family, no one. Now just be sensible and wake up from this foolish fantasy, and you can have everything if you just give up Jesus!”
But the more I spent time reading the Bible, which I hid in my room, and the more I prayed, I grew stronger, the confirmation that my experience was real and Jesus was God became stronger like a thick three-fold cord that could not be broken, the Word, the Spirit of Jesus and prayer empowered me. The joy I experienced with Jesus was indescribable. No one could take that away.
Finally, one day my mother opened the door and I got a shocker when she said, “Go, leave and don’t come back.” I was bewildered. I thought they would change. I never expected my parents to tell me to leave. It was a big bad world out there and I had led a very protected life, but my parents demanded that I leave. They did not seem to care where I went. I took a little bag, a little money, and left. I went straight to the Christian pastor’s house.
He and his wife were kind and let me stay with them, but soon, they had to think of where I could go, which would help me in my faith and also be safe for me.
Ultimately, they sent me as a worker to a Christian ministry in a city. I went thinking I would experience the warmth and love of other Christian brothers and sisters. This did not exactly work out as expected and things were hard at times with many misunderstandings and harshness. I worked in a couple of ministries, it was not an easy road, and I was uneasy because I was not experiencing the love, peace, or fellowship with those Christians.
Then, one day, a strong sense came over me to go back to Odisha and work among my people. This happened after serving in some Christian ministries for a few years.
When I went back Odisha, I met my future husband there, a strong believer of Christ, a man of great faith and prayer. He had grown up in an orphanage and his early years had taught him to depend on God for everything. As he prayed, God brought him and me together in His mysterious plan. Both of us had no idea of the road ahead and what would happen, but we did have a lot of faith in God and trusted Him. My husband was a kind man, who often went to the neighbouring villages preaching about having faith in a living God and very often prayed for the sick, visiting their homes. Those were happy years. Later, we then had a baby boy.
The Longest Night: In 2008, one evening as we were both in our house getting ready for dinner, someone urgently knocked on our door. It was an unknown woman. She said hurriedly as if she was running, “Brother, one house urgently needs prayers, please can you come? Someone is very sick there.”
My husband concerned and kind, left his dinner, got up immediately, and told me, “You continue your dinner, I will be back soon.” I ate and fed my baby, who went to sleep after that, while I was wide awake, waiting. The evening turned to night and my husband did not come back the whole night. I watched the clock anxiously, feeling something was not right and my stomach kept churning, and I started feeling sick.
Early next morning at 5 o’clock, someone knocked on the door. I was relieved. “He is back,” I thought, and I opened the door.
I got a faint surprise to see a woman I knew stand at the door and she gasped breathlessly, “I have some bad news, I am so sorry to tell you last night some Hindu extremists got six Christians together in a house and locked the door and I am so sorry to tell you, they burned them. They are all dead, your husband too,” she gave a long pause as I took time to sink this in. I felt I was going to faint and swoon and uttered, “This can’t be true!”
The woman said quickly “You have to run fast, get out before they catch you too. Last night when someone called your husband for prayer, I am very sad to tell you it was a setup and was a lie. They had planned to get them together for this…I am so sorry, I don’t know what to say, but you have to run fast and get away.”
I was in a trance of shock, sorrow, and numbness. Pain swept over me in waves that I could hardly stand. I could not believe my husband was not alive, burned alive! This seemed so unreal.
With shaking hands, I managed to pack a small bag and run with my baby, now 6 months old. The woman who brought the news could not keep me in her house as she said it was not safe for her or me. I ran to another Christian home. When they saw me at the door, they refused to take me in. “You have to flee far or they will catch and kill us too,” they told me.
Overnight, my life changed. I had no time to grieve; I had to think of the baby now, so I had to walk for miles before I managed to get on a bus that went to a town 36 kilometres away. On the bus, some Hindu extremists stopped the bus, as they were stopping all buses. They were pretending to give Prasad (holy food offered to the idols) to the passengers. The passengers that refused Prasad were the Christians as they suspected, and they caught women and men by their hair, dragged them out of the bus on the road, and started beating them mercilessly. I prayed as they came towards me offering Prasad, but they did not seem to see me and overlooked me, and did not offer me Prasad! I felt as if God blinded their eyes!
I finally reached the other town and spent the night in another Christians’ house. That night was the darkest coldest and longest night and the sorrow kept piercing my heart. I could not even pray, but my soul kept calling the Lord, finally, He did seem to comfort my pain, but the pain kept coming back and I continued to groan in my spirit. The next morning, the Christian people told me I would have to leave; it was not safe for them or for me. Many Christian homes refused to keep me for fear of their lives.
Christians were being killed all over in this violent spree. This violence was sourced from a Hindu extremist parties, VHP, the Bajrang Dal and other Sangh. They set fire to many Christian settlements. While the official government record was 30 plus were killed, a representative of the local government in Orissa estimated that more than 500 people died as a consequence of the anti-Christian pogrom launched by Hindu radicals. He said he personally authorised the cremation of at least 200 bodies and at least 500 Christians or more were killed. (No one wants to accept this testament) In addition, several Christians were forced to flee their villages after their houses were attacked by rampaging mobs. The VHP, the Bajrang Dal and other Sangh burned 730 houses and 95 churches. Hundreds of displaced Christians took shelter in various relief camps set up by the state government. The link below shares the death toll was of 500 Christians.
This violence was triggered by a big row in the district of Kalahandi. Four men murdered Swami Laskmananda, a highly revered spiritual guru. While the Maoist’s have been said to have killed him, there are different versions from different sources as the Christians have said they have been falsely implicated and Hindu nationalist groups have blamed the violence on the issue of religious conversion. The Swami was killed by his own as confessed later by some of his people due to his “immoral life” but this confession will not be made public and the Christian men who still proclaim their innocence are still languishing in jail.
My husband was killed for being a Christian and that too, a well-known one who prayed with people, preached, and shared his faith even though he was of course obviously not involved with the Swami’s murder as many other Christians were not, of course, either.
The Rugged Road and The Cross: In all this, I could not get time to rest or grieve, I was running from pillar to post with no one able to comfort me during my pain, but the Lord stood by my side and comforted me with His presence. My baby got severely malnourished during this period as there was insufficient food for him or for me. One night, I looked up in the darkened sky studded with silver stars. I seemed to get the words very strongly in my heart, “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” I knew Jesus was speaking to me. I would make it.
The road ahead was long, interspersed with warm rays of sunlight, then storms of hard pelting rain and then whispers of cool refreshing breezes of love from the Lord. When concerned Christian friends have offered to help me to leave Odisha, and move out to Bengaluru (Bangalore) or other cities where prospects would be better for me, I know in Spirit that I am to remain in Odisha. My God is faithful, He is sooo good, my God is great.”
I am now a teacher in Kalahandi.. My son is 8 years old, a loving child. (2015) He has suffered the aftermath of malnourishment and still needs more nutrition. I am glad that my family members talk to me now and a few times, when I have been sick, they have been helpful and taken care of me.
I want to live as a witness for Christ in a state, which is still in stormy unrest, and still unsafe for Christians. I may even seem unwise to remain in Kalahandi, but God gives me the strength and desire to remain. I always remember that without love, I am nothing, so I have to forgive all who hurt us and move on. Jesus teaches us the power of forgiveness and love. With forgiveness, I got my own healing. When asked if I forgive them, I say “yes, I have forgiven them! Only Jesus helps me forgive!”
“Deuteronomy 31:8 The LORD Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you. “Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged.”
Revelation 21: 4 He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death’ or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.”
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