The Heavenly Man (15 page)

Time marched on in the prison camp. Days became weeks, weeks turned into months. The year of 1986 passed, then 1987. All the time prisoners were hearing the gospel and many believed. I was constantly busy discipling new believers. It was a pleasure to see them grow in the grace of God and share the gospel with others.

Finally, 1988 rolled around. It was only about three months before my release. I was excited and dreamed of the moment I would be in the arms of my wife Deling. My son Isaac was now four years old, but I didn’t know him. I had missed his first steps and his first words. I hoped he would like me, but how could such a young boy understand what had happened to his daddy?

One night, without warning, the prison received an order from the central government. Every political prisoner was
required to assemble. It was announced that the whole incident involved me and that I was in deep trouble.

The government had gone to my home and confiscated Bibles that had been printed overseas, as well as letters we had received from overseas Chinese pastors. One of the letters written to me by Brother Xu caused great alarm among the PSB.

Brother Xu’s letter said, “The American Billy Graham is coming to China. He is meeting our President and Prime Minister. I want to meet with him and share your case. Perhaps he will help you to be released early. So please write down exactly how you’ve been treated in prison, and all your experiences.”

This letter had been secretly delivered to me and I had responded immediately. But before my response was delivered to Brother Xu, the PSB had discovered both his letter and my response.

In part of my letter to Brother Xu I had written, “Through suffering I have learned much. I am not angry that I’ve been imprisoned, because God is the true judge. He will make all things right. The prison camp I’m in is like a huge graveyard. The prisoners are suffering terribly. We are chained and handcuffed, and we endure backbreaking work from sunrise to sunset.

“I was arrested because I love God and I desire to reach the souls of all men. Although the cross I have to bear is heavy, the grace of the Lord is sufficient. My heart is full of joy and I sing new songs to my Lord. Hallelujah! Glory to my God and King!”

When they found these letters, the police immediately drove to my prison camp. They arrived at midnight and started to question all the other prisoners in my cell about me. I was tied to the iron flagpole in the centre of the prison yard.

I was bundled into a van and taken to another place, pushed through several different iron gates and locked in a tiny dark cell with an iron door. The cell was more like a box. It was just four feet high, four feet long and three feet wide. It was so small that I couldn’t stand up and I couldn’t stretch out. Both of my hands were handcuffed behind my back.

The cell had not been used for a long time so it had a terrible stench of mildew. I felt dizzy and nauseated. The floor was always damp, which made me feel incredibly cold, especially at night. When I remember that room I don’t think of it as my cell, but rather as my refrigerated coffin!

Above the iron door was a tiny window protected by three iron bars. This was the only place that light entered.

The next morning I crawled to the window and looked out. I saw birds chirping and flying around from branch to branch. I felt despondent and began to sing a new song. I was like a bird that desired to be free, but now I was locked away in a cage. I was away from the beautiful mountains, forests and trees. I longed to be like a bird flying free.

I’d been just a few months from freedom but now it looked as if I was in even more trouble. I asked the Lord, “When will I be free again? When can I witness to people and share your wonderful story?”

I lifted my hands up as far as I could and cried, “Lord, I’m willing to obey your will. Oh God, please tell me, where is this place? Where am I? Why am I here?”

The Word of the Lord came to me from Revelation 1:9,
“I, John, your brother and companion in the suffering and kingdom and patient endurance that are ours in Jesus, was on the island of Patmos because of the word of God and the testimony of Jesus.”

Suddenly the dark clouds over my heart disappeared.

In that tiny dark cell my heart overflowed with joy. I said, “Lord, thank you. Even when I was sixteen years old you put
an intense desire inside me to memorize your Word and bind it up in my heart. I thank you for your precious Bible. Now, O Lord, I ask you one thing. Please give me a Bible again in this place, so I can recite your Words.”

Suddenly I heard someone open the gate, then my iron door. Two officers pulled me out and took me to the interrogation room. When I arrived, the chief of the PSB, provincial leaders, and the director of the prison labour camp were waiting for me. They all wore grim expressions on their faces. I tried to find a chair to sit down. The PSB chief sternly said, “Kneel down, you deadly criminal! Do you realize what great crimes you’ve committed?”

He didn’t know that I’d become used to this kind of threat and intimidation for several years. Therefore I didn’t kneel down, but replied, “Since the day I was arrested I’ve obeyed every prison rule. I’ve submitted myself to the leaders, have done my work without complaining, and have helped my fellow prisoners. I was twice voted the best prisoner and have done nothing wrong in the prison camp.”

The officer’s face changed. He shouted, “Shut up, you trickster! We have your file. Four years ago you pretended to be crazy. Then you staged a hunger strike against our government. When we sentenced you we thought your attitude had improved so we only gave you four years. But after arriving in the prison camp you’ve gone from bad to worse and have continued your religious activities. We’re afraid if we keep you locked up you’ll take over the entire prison.

“Firstly, you’ve had contact with foreigners, and have received superstitious literature from overseas. Now, months before a religious delegation from America has arrived in China, you knew they were coming! Moreover, you were notified of this by Xu Yongze, who is the most wanted criminal in all of China.

“Secondly, you always oppose our government and our religious policies. You attack our Three-Self Patriotic Church and call it a harlot. During the past four years there is no indication that you’ve changed your ways or that you’re sorry for your many crimes.

“Thirdly, we’ve taken care of you in prison like loving parents, but you had the audacity to write a poem stating our camp is like a big graveyard, a place of thorns! Our government has tried everything to try to make you useful and productive to our country, but you’ve resisted all our efforts.”

The more he spoke the angrier he became. He shouted, “Today we’re going to give you the most serious lesson you’ve ever had! Perhaps you will wake up and mend your ways.”

Several guards were called in and told, “Take Yun away and entertain him properly!”

I was taken to a torture room. They handcuffed me and used electric batons, whips and sticks to beat and torture me. My flesh was ripped open and wounds covered my body. Before I lapsed into unconsciousness, the word of the Lord came to me, “This is your calling. You should patiently endure because of the Word of God and the testimony of Jesus.”

After I regained consciousness I lay still on the ground like a dead man. The guards took me and threw me back into the tiny cell. My hands and feet were manacled with chains.

That same night the Lord gave me a vivid dream. In it, my handcuffs suddenly snapped and I was free! In the dream I was reading a study Bible. I preached to some of the brothers I’d been in prison with and encouraged them to testify for the Lord. The Catholic Father Yu came to me joyfully and repeated, “Jesus is victorious over all! Jesus is victorious
over all!” I told him, “When I was first locked in this tiny dark cell I prayed God would give me a Bible to study.” Then in my dream we both gave thanks to the Lord in heaven.

When I awoke from my dream I found that the handcuffs were still on my hands, but the Holy Spirit told me, “Relax your hands.” As soon as I did, the handcuffs fell off! I prayed to the Lord according to what I’d seen in the dream. I said, “Lord Jesus, I love you. Thank you for allowing me to sing. Please give me a Bible.”

At around 8 a.m. the next morning a remarkable thing happened. The prison director opened the iron gate and came to my cell. He called out my name, “Yun, although you’ve committed many crimes, we still respect your faith. Yesterday we had a meeting and decided to give you a Bible. Come, take it!”

Quickly I placed the handcuffs back over my hands. I reached out for the Bible and thanked the director. He told me, “Yun, please study your Bible well and repent of your crimes so you can be a useful man.” He locked the door and left.

I knelt down and wept, thanking the Lord for this great gift. I could scarcely believe my dream had come true! No prisoner was ever allowed to have a Bible or any Christian literature, yet, strangely, God provided a Bible for me!

Through this incident the Lord showed me that regardless of men’s evil plans for me, he had not forgotten me and was in control of my life. There is no government or human power that can prevent the Almighty God from carrying out his will! I was reminded of the time, when I was just 16 years old, when God had miraculously provided my first Bible. Here I was, now 30 years old, all alone in a tiny, dark, dingy cell, but God’s provision and power had not diminished!

My hands were trembling. I slowly opened my Bible to the last page,
“He who testifies to these things says, ‘Yes, I am coming soon.’ Amen. Come, Lord Jesus. The grace of the Lord Jesus be with God’s people. Amen.” Revelation 22:20–21.

For the next three months I remained in isolation in this tiny cell. There was just a little bit of light that came through the window, but it was enough for me to read. In the first ten days I read through the entire Bible. I used this time to memorize a total of 55 chapters of the Bible, from Hebrews to Revelation.

God helped me understand his Word and to love him more dearly. This was a precious time of communion with Jesus. He showed me glimpses of the future of the Chinese church, and how we shall take the gospel throughout the unreached world and back to Jerusalem before the Second Coming of the Lord.

One month before my four-year sentence was completed I had a wonderful dream. I saw an old woman with grey hair. She was carrying moonlight in her hands. She walked towards me smiling. Then I realized it was my own dear mother. I ran forward and leaped into her arms. She looked at me with loving eyes and said, “My child, don’t be afraid.”

I woke up and my spirit was full of joy. I thought it was a pity it had only been a dream, but I prayed the dream would come true and I would see my mother again.

Three days later, around 11 a.m., a guard entered my cell and took me to the head office. When I entered the room, my mother rushed toward me! She held me and wept. She saw I was handcuffed, pencil-thin, and my skin was yellow because of a lack of exposure to sunlight. She couldn’t hold back her tears. I said, “Mama, please be comforted. This is all for Jesus’ sake.”

My mother stopped me and said, “Your mama knows.
Your wife and your family think of you day and night, longing for you to return home. My child, remember your mama’s words, ‘Listen to the words from above and obey the voice of God. Don’t be afraid.’”

She caressed my hands and felt my tight handcuffs. Her heart was broken. The guard who was watching us spoke, “Hurry up! Speak quickly! You’re not allowed to have visitors, but we know your mother has come a long way to see you. Hurry and finish before we get caught!”

My mama said, “Son, I came here and searched for you for three days. Nobody knew where you were. But last night the angel of the Lord spoke to me in a dream. He said, ‘Don’t be afraid. You shall meet your son.’ This morning this guard saw me standing in front of the prison gate. He is a believer. He knew I was looking for you. He told me, ‘Your son is locked inside a tiny cell in solitary confinement.’ Today this kind-hearted man let us meet each other.” My mama turned to the guard and said, “God will surely bless you for your act of kindness.”

I asked the guard if I could write a letter to my wife and son. He gave me a pen and paper and took the handcuff off my right hand. My hand trembled as I wrote to my beloved family, exhorting them to remain faithful to the Lord and preach the gospel to the lost.

As I returned to my cell I turned and looked into my mother’s loving eyes. She lifted her hand and waved to me.

* * *

Brother Xu was aware the authorities had intercepted his letter to me, but he decided to go ahead and attempt to visit Billy Graham during his trip to Beijing anyway. He determined it was worth the risk to share the truth of what was
really happening in China. Xu was concerned that God’s Church in China was being represented by the Three-Self Patriotic Movement, and not by the house churches.

The American preacher was scheduled to meet Three-Self Church leaders on 17 April 1988. Through a mutual friend, Brother Xu arranged to meet Graham later that same day.

The meeting never took place.

Ministry of State Security plain-clothed officers arrested Brother Xu as he visited a park at about 4 p.m. on 16 April. Because of our letters, the authorities were aware of his intentions and had launched a massive security operation designed to stop him before he had the chance to meet Billy Graham.

As news of Xu’s arrest spread around the world, one foreign Christian writer quipped, “With regard to the nature and impact of his work, Xu may rightly be regarded as the ‘Billy Graham of China’, so it is somewhat ironic that he should be arrested while attempting to see Billy Graham.”

Brother Xu spent three years in prison for his courageous attempt, being finally released in 1991. He was held, without ever being charged, in a prison in Zhenping County in Henan Province.

Before my four years were completed, I fell into deeper trouble and now found myself crammed into a tiny cell. I thought I was surely going to be sentenced to death.

One morning the guard came and took me to an open interrogation session that had been scheduled to last all day. I had just finished a time of prayer with the Lord, and had been worshipping him with all my heart.

When the guard saw the joy on my face he asked, “What kind of nice dream did you have last night that made you so happy?” I continued to sing.

The guard interrupted me, “Don’t be too happy. Today you’ll have to deal with your grim predicament. You won’t be singing by the end of the day.”

He checked my handcuffs and pushed me towards the interrogation room. There were already eight officials
seated, waiting for me. On a desk was a collection of different tools of torture. God had already taken all the fear from my heart so I inspected these instruments closely without feeling any anguish at all.

I sat down in a chair.

A judge said, “This is your last opportunity, Yun. I have the power to sentence you to another fifteen or twenty years if you refuse to co-operate and admit your crimes.”

I looked at him and said nothing.

The deputy leader of the county PSB spoke, “Yun, according to our file you’ve had a lot of contact with the criminal Xu Yongze. You’ve interacted with foreigners to plot against our government. These facts are enough to sentence you to death if we choose. But now we want you to clearly acknowledge the fact that you’ve committed these crimes. Tell us who Xu’s main leaders are. If you tell us their names we’ll be lenient on you. Otherwise you’ll deeply regret it.”

Suddenly I was angry inside. I stood and lifted up my bound hands. In a loud voice I declared, “Don’t say anything more! I’m fully prepared for the death sentence! I will not answer you. Do whatever you want to me!”

Then I sat down again.

In the depths of my heart I said, “Lord Jesus, even if they kill me I’ll still love you.”

Everyone in the room was astonished. An experienced judge from the provincial government said, “Alright Yun, we know you’re a sincere Christian. But our government is willing to help you. We do not intend to kill you, so don’t get so agitated. Just listen to the questions we have for you. Go back to your cell today. We’ll call you in a few days and you can tell us your answers.”

When I was alone again on the damp floor I sang a song,

A few mornings later, around 9 a.m., the chief warden personally came to get me. I was surprised when he said, “Yun, pack up your things and prepare to leave this cell.”

I asked, “Why?”

He replied, “We’re sending you back to your original county prison. There you’ll face another trial.”

I was driven all the way back to Nanyang in a police car. My blanket, clothing, Bible, and everything else I owned in the world came with me. I was handcuffed and made to sit in the back seat with armed guards on either side.

It was late afternoon when we arrived in Nanyang. It had been almost four years since I’d been in my home town. Instead of taking me to the prison they drove me into a large yard. I noticed a sign, “Prefecture Public Security Bureau.”

The guards released my handcuffs and allowed me to wash my hands and face. They took me into a luxurious meeting room. A dozen people were already waiting for me. The chief of the PSB, the director of the Religious Affairs Bureau, local Communist Party representatives, and some Three-Self Church leaders were present.

The PSB chief said, “Yun, we think you already know how serious your situation is, so we don’t need to repeat the charges again. According to our law we should give you a longer sentence, but we think you’re too stubborn to change your behaviour. After discussion between our various departments, we’ve decided to let you go home.”

The Holy Spirit reminded me of his Word,
“You would have
no power over me if it were not given to you from above.” John 19:11.

The officials continued, “We have several conditions you must agree to before we will release you…

1. For two years you’ll be stripped of all political rights. There is no way you can avoid the disgrace of having been a political prisoner.
   
2. For two years you’ll be placed under close police surveillance.
   
3. You must report to the PSB every month and tell them what you’ve done that month.
   
4. You’re not allowed to travel outside your village. You cannot go anywhere to preach. If someone comes to your house to meet you, you must report it to the local authorities. If you don’t, we’ll punish you severely.
   
5. You must join a Three-Self Patriotic Church that is recognized and endorsed by our government.”
   

After these five points were read out I was asked to sign a paper agreeing to these conditions.

I politely answered them, “Dear honourable leaders, there is one condition I cannot obey. It is number five. I will not, and cannot, join the Three-Self Church. It is a national political organization. I’m deprived of all political rights, therefore I must also be disqualified from joining the Three-Self Church.”

They felt there was some reason in what I was saying. They didn’t know how to reply, so they gave me a serious warning, “Yun, we know you are like a dog that cannot stop eating people’s garbage. We know it’s not easy for you to change your ways. No matter how clever you think you are, if you continue to stir up your followers against our nation’s
religious policy you will suffer the consequences for the rest of your life.”

I found out they’d already purchased a bus ticket for me to go back to my home village. It was the last bus that night. They sent a car to take me to the station. My heart was bursting with joy and thankfulness.

It was 25 January 1988 – four years to the day since I’d been driven back to Nanyang in the police van, painfully handcuffed to a steel rail and splattered with my own blood. And it was also four years to the day since I began my 74-day fast.

I was finally released from prison!

Just before midnight I was let off near my village. I walked along the dark, icy path toward my home. I was excited and nervous at the same time. I knew my family had suffered much during my absence.

I hurriedly followed the narrow pathway, past a row of houses with smoke rising from their chimneys, the fires inside protecting their homes from the chilly winter air.

I saw my home. I paused, taking in the moment. It was like a dream.

I had experienced so much in those four years, but God had been faithful. I’d suffered some horrible tortures, but God had been faithful. I’d been dragged in front of judges and courts, but God had been faithful. I’d been hungry, thirsty, and had fainted from exhaustion, but God had been faithful.

Through it all, God was always faithful and loving to me. He had never left me nor forsaken me. His grace was always sufficient and he provided for my every need.

I didn’t suffer for Jesus in prison. No! I was with Jesus and I experienced his very real presence, joy, and peace every day. It’s not those in prison for the sake of the gospel who
suffer. The person who suffers is he who never experiences God’s intimate presence.

In a way, even though I was now free, I found it difficult to leave the prison. Inside, the spiritual fellowship with my fellow Christians had been very deep and sweet. The bonds we made were very strong. We served one another in love, and shared our whole lives with each other. In the outside world people are busy and have many things to do. Most of our relationships are little more than skin-deep.

My family wasn’t expecting me. They knew approximately when I was meant to be released, but had received no news from the authorities. I found the front door of my house was locked. I knocked, and my precious wife Deling, with a completely astonished expression, opened the door and welcomed me inside. My little boy Isaac was already asleep. Deling woke him up and together they stared at me with their eyes wide open, trying to believe it really was me, and not a dream or vision.

Isaac was four years old, but we’d never seen each other before. He clung to his mother and asked, “Who is he? He’s not my father! Who is he?” This cut my heart, but over the next few days my son warmed to me and came a little closer.

We all knelt down and thanked God for bringing us back together again. Then Deling and I hugged, laughed and cried throughout the night, as we shared stories of the struggles we’d endured and of God’s goodness to us.

My mother was away when I came home. She had travelled to Nanyang, hoping to find out when I would be released. The authorities ignored her and wouldn’t answer any of her questions. On the second evening after my release she came home, discouraged and with a broken heart. You can imagine the unspeakable joy when she saw I was already home!

One night, three days after my release, I received a strange dream but I instantly knew it was from the Lord.

In my dream a crowd of Christians were chasing me. I was carrying a bright light the size of an egg. People were trying to get the light off me, so I attempted to hide it, but it kept shining through my clothes. No matter what I did, people kept chasing after me.

I woke up and my shirt was drenched with sweat. I woke my wife and told her, “We need to pray. I’ve had a scary dream.” When I told her the details, Deling said, “The Lord is telling us it is too difficult to hide you from the believers. When they find out you’re here they’ll come to see you. Then the authorities will arrest them. This is the reason they let you out of prison. They are using you like a light to attract moths. When the believers come the authorities will pounce on them.”

The dream started to come true. Two weeks after I arrived home a large PSB and People’s Congress meeting took place. In that meeting they declared that China had complete freedom of religion. They criticized the house churches. They announced I was under the strict surveillance of the local government and notified the delegates of the five points they had imposed on me before my release. They tried to embarrass me during the meeting.

One day several important co-workers came to my home before dawn. They took me to a special leadership meeting. My heart was burning with the Holy Spirit. We all prayed for revival. Many young people were there weeping before the Lord. We all re-dedicated our lives to the Lord’s purpose.

The fire of the Holy Spirit burned in my home county, Nanyang. Many miracles and thousands of conversions took place in a short period of time. The fire then spread to other places.

I was being watched closely so I couldn’t go wherever I wanted. I had to ask permission if I wanted to leave my village. Every month I had to visit the local Public Security Bureau and make a report of my activities. To me this was a thorn in my flesh.

One day I prayed, “Lord, you told Peter we should obey God and not man, so from now on I will not report to the government. I will only obey you.”

The Lord immediately spoke to my heart,
“Submit yourselves for the Lord’s sake to every authority instituted among men…For it is God’s will that by doing good you should silence the ignorant talk of foolish men.” 1 Peter 2:13,15.

Therefore for the first two years I did everything required of me and made a monthly report to the PSB. I took every opportunity to share God’s Word with the officers. During my reports I never told them where I’d been to preach the gospel. My reports consisted of the revelation the Lord had given me that month from his Word.

In March 1988, we heard that Bibles were available in southern China, in the city of Guangzhou. Foreign Christians had carried these Bibles across the border from Hong Kong. I was also told about an American pastor based in Hong Kong, who loved China with all his heart. He could speak and preach in fluent Chinese.

When my wife heard about this American pastor, she encouraged me to go to Guangzhou to visit him, and to collect some Bibles for our church. She told me not to worry about our local authorities. She would make an excuse for why I’d left our village.

I took the 30-hour train journey to Guangzhou and met the American brother. He shared how he loved China and was willing to sacrifice his life for the Chinese people. My heart was stirred. This was the very first contact I had with
Western believers. They started to bring in many bags of Bibles, which were greatly needed by the house churches.

From this time on we started to receive a small number of foreigners into our midst. We enjoyed their company and were thankful for the Bibles and materials they provided, but sometimes we struggled to host them. For example, at that time we always rose at 5 a.m. for our daily prayer meetings. After prayer and breakfast we would work diligently for the Lord until midnight.

The house church believers loved to hear long messages from God’s Word. Many Chinese preachers could speak powerfully, without pausing, for several hours at a time. Then, after a meal break, they would continue for another several hours. This pattern continued day after day. We found that some of our foreign visitors could only speak for 45 minutes before they ran out of things to say! So we asked that only those who were able to teach for at least two hours at a time should come to us.

1989 was a very pivotal year for the house churches. We started to unite to reach the harvest. On 4th June, the Tiananmen Square massacre changed many people’s hearts. It discredited Communism in the eyes of millions of people and was the trigger point for them to seek after spiritual truth.