Walking Tall in the Fiery Furnace

I know that the Word of God is written to the whole world, and that the stories in the Bible can be generally applied to most places most of the time. It just seems that certain people and cultures bridge the time gap more effortlessly than others. For example, Christians in China may more easily identify with Paul's stories of persecution than Christians in Canada. This doesn't mean that the words don't apply to both- I'm simply saying that a particular significance attaches to stories in the Bible when you are around people who experience them firsthand.

I write this because I am fortunate enough to have met a present day comrade of Shadrach, Meeshach, and Abednego. A man who was put to the test, given a direct command, and whose simple faith prompted him to decide to surrender to God's call, in spite of the pain and consequences.

"O King Nebuchadnezzar, we have no need to answer you in this matter. If this be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and he will deliver us out of your hand, O king. But if not, be it known to you, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the golden image that you have set up." (Daniel 3:16-18)

My friend (As a coworker, I am not permitted to give his name) grew up Hindu. Every single member of his family was Hindu. In fact, his uncle was a high ranking Hindu religious official. In this way, his life was just like millions of his countrymen. But a friend introduced him to Jesus, and he was born again.

My friend is no different than the rest of this country in that family is everything here. In the slums, a man with bread, but no family is poorer than his hungry counterpart. To spend more than a day alone is a frightening thing. People here love to be constantly surrounded by others, especially their family, which means my friend was now a Christian in the midst of an established caste-adhering Hindu family.

Naturally, it was not long before his faith was tested. In one of the family/community Hindu rituals, each person was to bow before an idol, as well as, before my friend's uncle. In a place where conversion from Hinduism can be illegal and often evokes violence, standing up for Jesus meant stepping into the line of fire. Even more frightening for my friend, it meant expulsion from his family. It meant isolation for an indefinite period... maybe forever. But he stood firm. He approached his uncle and said, “I will not bow to you or to that idol. I met Jesus and now I only bow to him.”

It was a simple statement, but, as I saw him say it, his face showed what it meant to him. I would like to tell you that the family listened or accepted his stand and faith and converted, but they did not. His uncle pronounced the anticipated religious exclusion of my friend, and, like that, he was alone.

He then talked about how he spent the first few years of his Christian walk praying for his uncle, even without any sign that his uncle was interested in Jesus. Several years later, his uncle suffered a stroke, and his uncle asked my friend to tell him about the God that he believed in. My friend recognized that God had heard and answered his prayer, and he let God carry him on the rest of the way through the fire.

As if I couldn't find the parallel already, my friend shared with our group the story of Shadrach, Meeshach, and Abednego-- He told it with passion and admiration... he told like he did, with a wide, unashamed smile on his face, because he knew he had stood firm and had endured the same kind of fire.