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The Word That Nourishes

There is one image of communist-era Romania that will forever be impressed upon my memory: the sweeping, green valley, dotted with elderly people transferring 20-foot-high flaxen piles of corn, stalk by stalk, from the ground to flatbed trucks. It was like something out of a National Geographic magazine: the backs of feeble babushkas bent unnaturally, their lined and weathered faces framed delicately by scarves. Frail gentlemen hoisting corn when they looked as if they needed to eat and rest—juxtaposed with the bored, robust young men, who smelled of cigarettes and arrogance as they casually patrolled the work of the elderly.

This scene perfectly captured the heartless absurdity of Romanian communism. The topsy-turvy division of labor and resources and constant suspicion and intimidation left most of the population living in fear. Nicolae Ceaușescu, the communist-era despot, forced thousands of people to flee the capital city, Bucharest, while he literally starved his people in order to build his palace and repay international debts. Those people in the valley? They could not eat the corn they harvested under this cruel regime. Their spirits and their bodies were broken.

In 1981, I received an invitation from Campus Crusade for Christ International (now CRU) to speak at a missionary conference in Vienna. After the conference ended, I ventured out with two missionary-interpreters, to teach and encourage Romanian believers.

The Romanian government was hostile toward the gospel at that time, so before we crossed the Hungarian/Romanian border, everyone needed what we called a “cleansing.” We had to remove from our person anything that identified us as Christians—a bookmark, a business card, any identifying literature or symbols.

Yet in spite of such oppressive hostility, the seed of the gospel had already been deposited in the broken soil of this land by courageous Romanian Christians, who had endured persecution, betrayal, labor camps, and death.

This seed was bearing fruit in Ava, one of the soft-eyed babushkas picking through corn in the valley. She whispered, “Go in peace,” to one of the interpreters as we were leaving. The interpreter later explained that no one would say “go in peace” unless she knew Jesus.

All over Romania, believers would quietly arrive in 30-minute increments to secret gatherings to hear someone teach the Bible. These precious people gave us tokens of thanks because they joyfully received any instruction concerning God’s Word. I still remember Anna’s delicate apple cake. She must have stood in line for days to procure the sugar and flour needed to bake such a lovely dessert. I took a picture of Anna’s hands, to remember her. (We couldn’t photograph faces—the authorities would surely harass anyone we photographed. So we took pictures of hands . . . feet . . . backs.)

Thank God, the walls of communism fell in 1989. Can you imagine my joy when I heard that Trans World Radio was to start beaming Chuck Swindoll’s messages into Romania from a tower that Hitler had built for propaganda during World War II?

Today, I’m overjoyed that Ben and Anda Mogos serve as the pastor and executive director of Insight for Living Romania, respectively. Their ministry is an answer to many, many prayers. As a board member of Insight for Living Ministries, I am especially delighted that we serve Romania.

One more thing: we saw Ava again as we motored away from the corn fields. She locked eyes with me and said, “Wherever you go in the world, greet the brothers and sisters in Jesus Christ for me.” And so it’s my joy, many years later, to greet you, dear brothers and sisters, for her.