Being Jesus in Our World

Last year I read a very disturbing book titled The Rape of Nanking. Written by Chinese-American historian and journalist Iris Chang, it was first published in 1997. Chang tells the awful tale of the Japanese occupation of the city of Nanking in the late 1930’s. It has been often described as “the forgotten holocaust of World War II.”

This month marks the 70th anniversary of Nanking’s misery—an ancient city which was then the capital of China. The city fell to the invading Imperial Japanese Army on December 13, 1937, and in the next six weeks, somewhere between 250,000 and 500,000 defenseless Chinese were murdered on the streets (that’s 12,000 murdered every day). Between 20,000 and 80,000 women were also raped and tortured—no one knows for sure how many. The city’s rich legacy of Chinese civilization—from art to architecture— was also destroyed (or carted away). The ugly verb, “rape,” incredibly, fails to even approach summarizing the horror.

An army of young men, religiously trained to believe the Chinese an inferior race, killed and worked mayhem for sport, boasting of contests to see who could “be the first to behead 100 Chinese.” Women were nailed to boards or impaled after they were raped, infants were thrown into the air and then speared by bayonets on the way down, men were buried to their chests in the ground and then eaten alive by dogs. The “orgy of violence” (as Chang described it) takes the breath away. Cruelty knew no boundaries in Nanking, as the rest of the world sang carols and settled around its Christmas trees in 1937.

For all of its despair, though, the Nanking’s story also carries astonishing inspiration. Within 10 days of the occupation’s wretched onset—just as Christmas Eve approached—a group of Christian missionaries stationed in the city and, implausibly, a German Nazi, organized a safe zone for the Chinese innocents. At the risk of their own lives and that of their families, they stared down the Imperial war machine and dared the Japanese to enter their homes, schools, and churches. They harbored thousands of terrified Chinese men, women, and children—all of whom would have otherwise been likely prey. For these amazing heroes, celebrating Christmas was about being Jesus, not just singing about Him. It was nothing less than being the presence of Christ in their world’s darkest hour. Their courage—and love— literally saved 250,000 people from hell-on-earth.

These Christmas heroes chose to stay behind in Nanking, when other foreigners fled for their own safety. They refused to leave the city and traded their own welfare for the chance to save others. They were not trapped; they were compelled by love. One of the most remarkable of these was missionary Minnie Vautrin—a single, 51 year-old believer from Bloomington, Illinois. Intimidated and abused herself by leering Imperial army thugs, she, nevertheless, stood her ground, arguing, cajoling, and defying the force of occupation. It is estimated that she alone saved the lives of 10,000.

The “Safety Zone” was a 2.5 square mile area of the central city, cordoned off and defended by nothing more than the Providential willpower of the missionaries and German John Rabe (who has fairly been called “the Oskar Schindler of China”). When aligned with God’s purposes, there is no telling what we can do.

On that sad Christmas Eve in 1937, the trustees of Nanking’s “Safety Zone” took a deep breath and remembered the carols of Christmas. “Silent Night,” “It Came Upon the Midnight Clear,” and all the rest. I have to believe the Americans brought to the table Longfellow’s inspired “I Heard the Bells on Christmas Day,” in which he wrote, “And in despair I bowed my head, ‘There is no peace on earth,’ I said. ‘For hate is strong and mocks the song of peace on earth, goodwill toward men.’ Then pealed the bells more loud and deep, ‘God is not dead, nor doth He sleep. The wrong shall fail, the right prevail, with peace on earth, goodwill toward men.’”

Even in the midst of the most awful circumstances imaginable, Christmas still brings hope and life. In Nanking in 1937. In Afghanistan and Iraq and the Darfur in 2007. At home. And abroad. Everywhere.

Take a deep breath this Christmas Eve and join us to sing the carols, to acknowledge the hope, and to embrace, once more, the Christ Child of Bethlehem. Think with us about being Jesus in the way those brave souls were in Nanking. Thankfully, it is unlikely we’ll ever face what they faced, but we’ll find ourselves, nonetheless, staring down the devil every now and then as the new year unfolds. You can do it. We can do it. We can dedicate ourselves to blessing beyond ourselves or what we think possible, to trading our own comfort and security for Heaven’s cause. We can do it this Christmas Eve, at Madison Park, at 11:00pm. Don’t miss the wonder, the light, and the once-in-a-year moment that is Christmas Eve, wherever you are in life’s journey, whatever you have or must face. Be encouraged. Jesus is born. And, He lives.

Merry Christmas, dear Madison Park.