Yesterday I was driving home from a friend’s house, reflecting on the recent mission trip I participated in. The song that came on my stereo brought tears to my eyes as I listened and reflected.
Its words are quite simple:
Where have all the wicked gone? Is there no one left to break you down? Where have all the holy gone? Is there no one to condemn you?
Where have all the wicked gone? Is there no one to condemn you? Where have all the holy gone? Is there no one left to break you down?
Break by Son Lux
One of the big differences between the trip this year and the one last year for me involved experiencing the weight of spiritual oppression. This weight was tangible in a way that it has never been to me before. Our group saw the work of the enemy at many turns; we felt evil’s presence daily going into the township, many times in ways that we haven’t necessarily before.
I think of the boy that my wife’s group encountered — bow-legged and wanting nothing to do with them. Even at an (approximate) age of 5, he writhed and screamed and thrashed at the mention of prayer to Jesus as someone possessed would. I think of a young Masi woman, having just encountered Jesus the day before, weeping and crying out to God: “Jesus is Lord! Jesus is Lord! We need you Jesus! The people of Masi need you!” I think of all of the people we met that drink alcohol to excess because their ancestors come to them and dreams and tell them they have to, of Sydney crying out on the street to Jesus to take his addiction away, of the young man we met on a Sunday morning that just couldn’t put his glass of liquor down to follow Jesus in what He was doing in Masi. I think of the countless numbers that have a picture hanging in their shacks of a man, claiming power greater than Jesus, who tells people that when they pray to his idol, he will heal them.
The strongholds of the enemy in this culture are deep. Ancestor worship — the old ways — are a primary in roads for the work of evil here. The above stories can be traced or linked directly to it. People believe that their ancestors must be feared and worshiped as they come to them in dreams at night and whatever these ancestors say, the people believe they must do. And never is it healthy. These evil spirits most often come desiring people to sell themselves to the bottle, to various drugs, to violence, to unrestrained sex — pretty much anything that breaks them. And people tie themselves to these old ways with bonds that run deep. Even children of believers wear the “protective” knots symbolizing worship of ones ancestors.
And more often than not the “church” in these communities is part of the problem and not anything near the solution. Syncretic bonds have long since transformed what might have once been houses of Jesus into heterodox communities driven by fear of ancestors rather than fear of God above. Perhaps worse yet, some are tied so deeply to the world that likely have no real clue what Jesus incarnated in His time on earth. One long-termer told us how in the township he worked in, a lot of pastors had recently been busted for laundering money through their churches for local thugs.
Then there are false prophets that don’t even make an attempt at being Christian. The man whose picture hangs in many homes — he openly claims power greater than that of Jesus. He just charges people all that they have to access it and even more heartbreaking — steers theme directly away from a real and lasting Hope that many are finding. The day I noticed the oppressive presence of this man in the township was the day all of this started weighing particularly heavy upon my heart. His photo hung in every home we entered that day. The last home we entered was occupied by a young woman who had a week old son and a 6 year old son. The 6 year old was extremely sick with parasites; he’d been throwing up for days and was in pain and there was seemingly no end to his torment in sight. We prayed though. As we prayed, I felt God crying out to be known in Masi and with a blinding realization — I could no longer stomach the picture of the false prophet hanging around the boys neck. We asked the mother why and she told us that it was supposed to ward off sickness, that if one prayed to it and the picture on it, help would come. We proclaimed Jesus to her. She said she knew but the boys grandfather did not believe that and made him wear the idol so she couldn’t remove it. The spirit within me cried out, seeing more clearly than ever the bonds people tied themselves in.
Starting shortly after these events, I started to get sick. The following evening I had a pretty bad fever but it was weird — unlike anything I’d experienced before. My body was sick but I didn’t feel at all sick. I sat through a movie and enjoyed it. I hung out with our team and had a good time. It was odd to me. I asked Juli to pray (a praying wife is a wonderful thing!) and she obliged. She prayed a typical prayer, crying out to Jesus as healer. When she got done I still had a fever and honestly — my body wasn’t any better. Several minutes later I asked her to pray again, but this time to pray specifically for two things: Pray the Lord’s victory against the spiritual oppression happening in Masi (all that I wrote above and more) and that the Lord would protect our team from it as we directly went into battle against the enemy. It was the craziest thing — her hand got burning hot and it was almost immediately that my fever lifted and my body started feeling better.
The next day I brought this up in our group devotional and praise time. We took it to the Lord. There were several Masi residents with us for the devotional as well. It was during this time that the woman I mentioned earlier prayed and weeped and cried aloud, “Jesus is Lord! Jesus is Lord! We need You Jesus! The people of Masi need You!” Hers was a long prayer and I don’t know what she prayed other than that as she prayed in her heart tongue (as did the other ladies). When we had finished, one of our translators commented to me how much he appreciated the prayer time because spiritual oppression is such a deep and rooted issue in Masi.
Having said all of that, I go back to the song above that brought a tear or two to my eyes — Where have all the wicked gone? Is there no one to condemn you? Where have all the holy gone? Is there no one left to break you down? Jesus cuts through all of these chains that bind us. He is more powerful than any false prophet, than any evil spirit or demon, or any church gone astray. When the wicked stand to condemn, when the “holy” stand to break us down — they disappear in the light of Jesus and we are left standing before Him. He simply asks, “Where did they go? Is there anyone to condemn you?” As we stand before Him puzzled, He adds, “I don’t condemn you either. Go from here. Follow me instead of them. My kingdom is at hand.”
Obviously this is something I’m still working out. It’s one thing to know about spiritual oppression in your head; it’s another thing entirely to confront it face to face. If you’ve read this far, feel free to leave your comments, be they about the above stories or how you’ve looked such things in the eye.
