Authors: Brother Yun,Paul Hattaway
Tags: #Religion, #General, #Biography & Autobiography, #Religious
I said, “I noticed that book is a hymnbook. I’d love to have a look at it because there are many songs in it I can sing.”
She scoffed, “There are no good men in here. What’s the use?”
I assured her, “Auntie, I’m a real Christian! I’m in this prison for the sake of the gospel and the testimony of Jesus. Please let me sing a hymn for you from the book. Please?”
She felt embarrassed for the way she’d spoken to me. She opened the book to a certain hymn I knew. With tears in my eyes I sang:
Praise God without ceasing
Give thanks to my Saviour for now and evermore.
Look! The Son of God was crucified
Nailed to Calvary’s cross for you and me.
God’s love is over our family and our friends
Sinners, receive God’s grace today!
Devil, be gone from our presence.
Look! The Son of God was crucified
Nailed to Calvary’s cross for you and me.
The old sister wept tears of joy. She put her hand through the window and gripped my arm tightly. She said, “May the Lord comfort your heart! Take the book and keep it.”
Two days later I returned to the shop. She told me when she’d arrived home the Lord said to her,
“I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” Matthew 25:40.
She didn’t know what she could do to bless me, so she cooked some dishes and asked another sister to secretly bring the delicious food to me, to bless me in Jesus’ name.
She asked me to come to her store window from time to time so I could share God’s Word with her and her friends. They entered into a deeper fellowship with the Lord.
This dear sister offered to become the messenger for letters to be passed between my family, my co-workers, and me.
God used her to bring great comfort to me, through the blessed little window in the wall.
One day I was working in the prison camp radio broadcast room, playing gospel songs over the loudspeaker.
Suddenly I heard someone in the courtyard below call my name. The prison’s director of education, and a lady who was the director of the medical clinic, were looking up at me. I thought I was in trouble for playing Christian music. They ordered me to come downstairs immediately, so I ran down the stairway.
The education director told the doctor, “Yun is a good man. He never disobeys my command. See how he ran here as fast as he could?”
I asked him, “Sir, what can I do for you?” The director replied, “Let me introduce you to the head doctor of the clinic. She needs your help.”
The doctor told me, “I’ve heard from the other prisoners and guards that you are a gifted masseur. I want to know where you were trained.”
I relaxed when I realized they weren’t scolding me for playing Christian music. I replied, “I’ve never been trained as a masseur. I’m just a Christian who wants to help relieve people with pain in their bodies.”
The doctor poured out her heart, “My father has suffered
a stroke because of a blood disease. Now half his body is paralyzed. We’ve taken him to numerous doctors in many cities. One specialist advised us to use long term massage therapy to ease his pain.
“Your reputation as a masseur reached my ears. I’ve applied to your superior for permission so you can leave the prison and come to my home to massage my father. Would you please come and try? You can eat with us and we’ll treat you like a member of our family. If my father recovers, I promise I’ll get you released early so you can be reunited with your family.”
Before she finished speaking the Holy Spirit told me, “It is time for you to glorify my name. You shall go.” Immediately I told the doctor, “Yes, I will come. I also give you my word that I won’t take advantage of this opportunity to escape. You don’t have to worry.”
I rushed back to my cell and shared the matter with Brother Chuan. He prayed for me and said, “Thank God, his grace is sufficient for you.” I returned to the doctor and she took me to her parents’ home.
It was a lovely house with soft chairs and bowls full of fresh fruit. The doctor asked me to sit down and eat but I said, “Thank you, but I’m fasting and praying for your father. I hope you don’t mind. I’m praying he will receive a great blessing from the Lord.” The doctor’s mother was moved to tears when she heard my words.
The doctor had to return to the hospital. I leaned forward and assured her, “Go in peace. I won’t try to escape. I need time to get to know your father a little and then I will massage him.”
I told the dear old man how Jesus had borne his sin and sickness on the cross. I urged him, “Now, you have to open your mouth and invite Jesus Christ into your heart. Trust in
him and you shall receive healing. I urged him not to delay, because,
“Now is the time of God’s favour, now is the day of salvation.” 2 Corinthians 6:2.
I laid hands on the man and his wife, and comforted them with words of joy and hope. They tearfully renounced their sins and invited Jesus to be the Lord of their lives. Although the man did not immediately feel any better, I knew God had captured his heart and would soon heal his body.
I returned to the prison camp after dark and told Brother Chuan what had happened. We prayed together again.
Later that same night the doctor returned home from the medical clinic. Her father told her, “The man you brought to our house today, Doctor Yun, is a good person. He really loves God. Tomorrow morning you must invite him to join us for breakfast.”
Neither of the doctor’s parents realized I was a prisoner. They thought I was a doctor from the hospital!
The next morning before dawn, the old man suddenly felt someone strike him on his neck and back. For the first time in months he could easily move his head. He exclaimed, “It feels as if a rope around me has snapped!” He stood to his feet and freely moved his neck and back. The man’s wife jumped around the room in gladness. The whole family came together and thanked God for his goodness to them.
That morning the doctor came to the prison and told me what had happened. She invited me to join them for breakfast, because her father wanted to testify about what God had done for him.
The old man’s health recovered and soon he was able to walk up and down the stairs. This was remarkable for a man who’d been paralyzed by a stroke! He witnessed to all his old friends and sought forgiveness from people he’d wronged in the past.
The name of Jesus was being spread inside and outside the prison camp. We took every opportunity to lead people to the feet of Jesus. Brother Chuan and I became the unofficial pastors of the prison.
Because of the bold witness of the old man who’d been healed from a stroke, the news spread as far as the secretary of the Prison Labour Camp Political Committee. When the doctor reported to him what had happened, he said, “If this is true then we should send Yun to the Luoyang Massage School to give him advanced training. Then when he returns he can help many people.”
Because I had no money, the prison even decided to pay my expenses so I could attend the school! On three mornings I was driven in a police car from the labour camp to Luoyang City – a distance of about seventy kilometres. Prison guards were assigned to watch me and make sure I didn’t escape. I learned everything I could about the art of massage from the doctor. At the end of each day I was driven back to the labour camp, along with a stack of books I had been given to study.
Soon I was promoted to work in the medical clinic alongside the doctor! I massaged hundreds of people and always shared the gospel with them, even with some high-ranking Communist Party cadres!
Many of my patients invited me to their homes because they wanted me to share the gospel with their families and friends. People were hungry to know Jesus because of the emptiness of their hearts.
* * *
The first time I was imprisoned my wife was pregnant with Isaac. The second time I was incarcerated, my little daughter Yilin was only seven months old.
One day in March 1992, Deling and our two children came to the prison to visit me.
It was already after dark when they arrived. When Isaac saw me he shouted and tried to squeeze his body through the iron bars to hug me. The guards pulled him away. Isaac cried and screamed hysterically, “Mama, why won’t this man let me see my daddy?”
I broke down and sobbed. Every time my family visited me the guards humiliated and insulted them. Later Deling told me, “If it wasn’t for the love of Jesus I would never have gone back to that place again.”
My family was only allowed to see me for 30 minutes each visit. We had so many words to share, but because of the close surveillance of the guards we couldn’t say much.
At times it hardly felt as if dear Deling and I were really husband and wife. We’d been separated for so long because of the gospel. Our brief times together were often strained because of the pressure we were under. There was no opportunity for any romantic words or heart-felt emotion. We just exchanged messages to and from the church.
During one visit, my son and daughter ran to me before the guard could stop them. I held them in my arms and caressed them. They said, “Papa I love you.” I told them, “I also love you very much.”
The guard tore them out of my arms and said, “Yun, if you really loved your children you wouldn’t be here in prison.”
I noticed my son wore the same clothes every time he visited me – the same clothes he’d owned at the time I was arrested. Even though he was growing much bigger, he had to keep wearing the same shirt and trousers. His shoes had large holes in them. Deling, Isaac and Yilin were extremely thin. I realized they had no money at all and were struggling to survive.
I asked Isaac, “Do you miss your daddy?” He told me, “Mama said we don’t have money to visit you, and we don’t have money to buy new clothes or shoes. But we always pray for you at home.”
I asked him repeatedly, “How is your school?” but Isaac looked down at the ground and refused to answer.
Finally he wiped the tears from his eyes and said, “Daddy, I want to go to school, but you aren’t at home with us. The teacher doesn’t like me. She told the other children, ‘Isaac and his family stupidly believe in Jesus.’ My classmates mock me and say, ‘Your father is a dirty criminal who deserves to be in prison.’”
My heart was cut and I didn’t know what to say. I tried to put on a brave face and told Isaac, “My child, your daddy dedicated you to the Lord when you were just a baby. Please study your Bible and pray more while you are young so you can better serve the Lord in the future. We should be happy when people attack us and say bad things about us, because it is for Jesus’ sake.”
Although I tried to comfort my family with encouraging words, when I saw the innocence of my dear wife and children I couldn’t help myself. I knelt down, covered my face with my hands, and sobbed.
I’ve suffered many tortures and torments in my life. I’ve had electric batons placed inside my mouth. I’ve been kicked and beaten until I longed to die. I’ve fasted 74 days without food or water. But I tell you from my heart that the most difficult thing I’ve ever experienced was seeing the condition of my family when they came to visit me in those days. They were all skin and bones from lack of food, were dressed in rags, and I could see they were all struggling terribly. Deling put on a brave face but I knew she was in deep despair.
The paternal instincts inside me cried out to be a good
daddy to my precious children, and a good husband to my dear wife. But I could do nothing except pray for them. Often I blamed myself and felt great shame because I couldn’t be the father and husband to my own family that I wanted to be.
Nothing I’ve experienced caused me such pain as those visits.
Although to this day I don’t have any home or possessions to give my children, they love the Lord Jesus and they have a heart of compassion for others.
Once, while I was in prison, a house church leader visited my family. He asked my son, “Isaac, who loves you the most?” Little Isaac replied, “My Heavenly Father loves me the most. Jesus loves us all the most.”
When I heard this I was very touched.
While still in prison I made a commitment to the Lord that I would not allow the families of any other imprisoned Christians in China to suffer similar deprivation. I’ve since done all I can to raise support for the families of imprisoned believers.
Some people may ask, “Why can’t the local Christians take care of their own?”
Of course they do, as far as possible. But in some cases the demands have been on a scale too great to alleviate. For example, on one occasion in southern Henan 300 Christians were arrested from a single village, out of a total population of just one thousand people. Suddenly every family in that village was affected. The income earners were wiped out in one day. There just wasn’t enough help to go around and everyone suffered together.
Many people pray for Christians who are suffering in prison, but we need to understand that often their families suffer even greater hardship. Usually the authorities come
and confiscate everything of value from the prisoner’s home, even pots and pans, clothing and furniture. Sometimes they even take away farm animals and seed.
In one raid on our home the authorities confiscated all our personal effects, including my precious black-and-white photographs of my father. To this day the only recollections I have of my father are those stored in my memory.
There are thousands of testimonies of Christians in China who have paid a great price for their faith. I’d like to share just one here.
Sister Yuen Meng’en came from one of the wealthiest families in Shanghai. She was a widow with two young children; a son aged eleven and a daughter, nine, when she was imprisoned in 1957. After a year in prison the PSB thought they would have “compassion” on her. The chief warden said, “This past year you’ve shown excellent conduct, so now we plan to reward you. All you have to do is write a confession of your crimes and you’ll be free to go home and take care of your children. Surely your God would want you to take care of your own flesh and blood?”
The authorities arranged for her children to visit the prison. As soon as Sister Yuen saw them her heart was torn and tears of love welled up in her eyes.
The authorities asked her, “What do you want, your Jesus or your children? If you want Jesus you’ll stay in this prison. If you want your children, you can go home.” They gave her a pencil and a piece of paper and asked her to write down her choice.
When they read what she had written, they were amazed to find she had stated in large words, “Jesus cannot be replaced. Even my own children cannot replace Jesus.” Sister Yuen chose to stay in prison. The warden shouted, “Listen, you kids! Your mother has rejected you! She doesn’t love you!”
Sister Yuen was sentenced to a further 23 years in prison.
When she was released in 1981 her son was 34 years old, and worked in a government job in Tibet. Sister Yuen hadn’t seen either of her children even once in all of those intervening years. Her son had been taken by the state and raised in atheistic schools, and had been told his own mother had disowned him. Many Christians had visited and shared the gospel with him, but he always responded by saying, “Your Jesus took my mother away from me, why should I believe in him?”
Sister Yuen travelled to Tibet to find her son. He rejected her, screamed that he had no mother, and pushed her from his home.
She has never seen her son again.
The path of following the Lord Jesus Christ is not an easy one. Along the way lies suffering and hardship, but nothing we experience will ever compare to the suffering Jesus endured for us on the cross.
I have a problem with the “prosperity” teaching prevalent today, which tells us if we follow the Lord we’ll be safe and comfortable. This is completely contrary to Scripture as well as to our experiences in China. In addition to serving years in prison, I’ve been arrested about thirty different times for the sake of the gospel of Jesus Christ.