The Reformation Tour was a different kind of "outreach." In fact, God had warned us in advance that our assignment was not so much to do with reaching out to unbelievers, but rather to do with hearing His voice and obeying the things He asked us to do from day to day. He told us that the fruit of the outreach would be seen more in the spiritual realm and in the lives of the participants, than in large numbers of people giving their lives to the Lord.
During one of our daily prayer times, eleven year old Noham felt God warning us to expect the unexpected. "As you make your plans," He said, "Be aware that sometimes I'll override them and you need to be sensitive and quick to obey." This happened several times, but perhaps the most memorable was the day we went to the "church of the martyrs."
After a time of worship in the garden of our accommodation, we had caught the bus into the city centre that day and walked quite some distance along the shady river bank until we came to Saint Bartholomew's, a church on a small island in the Tiber River - a church dedicated to the memory of modern martyrs. In our study of the Reformation, we had learned that many people in those days had given their lives for their faith and for the right to have the Bible in the language of the people. If we want to be world-changers in the 21st Century, there is every possibility that some of us will pay for it with our lives. Small displays in the church of the martyrs tell the stories of men and women who have died for their Christian faith over the past hundred years - some of them in the concentration camps of Nazi Germany, some in the Spanish Civil War, and some more recently in terrorist attacks perpetrated on churches and chapels. St. Bartholomew's seemed an appropriate setting for us to reflect with our young people on this modern reality, and that's why we took such a longish walk along the river bank to get there.
But a frustrating surprise awaited us on our arrival: just as we wanted to enter the church, two ladies appeared and told us that we would have to leave, because the church was about to be closed for one hour for cleaning. We tried pleading for permission to enter, we even offered to help with the cleaning, but all to no avail. We were unceremoniously shown to the door. This left us with a predicament, as our next appointment was at Radio Vatican. If we waited too long at the church of the martyrs, we would be late in arriving at the radio station. Unsure of what to do next, we decided to take some more time to pray; Noham remembered his impression about our plans being messed up, and we needed to take time to hear what God had on His heart for us. In order to escape the blazing heat of the midday sun, we sought refuge next door to the church, in a shady doorway that was shared by the police station and the Jewish hospital.
It was an inauspicious setting for the special moments that took place next. As we waited on the Lord, we were reminded that martyrs are people who are rejected by their society, and in the Reformation days were even put out of the church. Our slight inconvenience in being ushered out of St. Bartholomew's was nothing compared to the cost of being rejected or persecuted for our faith in Jesus. As the Lord began to work among us, young people started to pray out their prayers of total commitment to God's plans and purposes for their lives, no matter what the cost. Parents wept as they recommitted their children to the Lord. Small groups began to pray together, while others began to worship quietly, recognising that God is worthy of our whole lives.
"Sh'ma Yisra'eil Adonai Eloheinu, Adonai echad," we sang. "May the Lord bless you and keep you... and give you peace." Our song, taken from scriptures in Deuteronomy and Numbers, echoed in that shady portico and out into the sunlit square. It seemed an appropriate song choice for our unexpected place of refuge in front of the Jewish hospital, where people kept coming in to go upstairs in the lift and visit their loved ones.
Finally, the church opened its doors again, and we were able to go in for a brief visit. But the team that walked around the silent church was not the same group of people that had walked along the river bank only hours earlier. Lives had been touched by God, and some of them had been changed for ever.
Read on below for news of our later visit to Radio Vatican.
