Hearts of Fire-The Voice of The Martyrs

Few books have seared my mind with harrowing tales to such a level after every chapter I read like Hearts of Fire did.

So impactful were the stories of persecution, in which these women lost everything for their faith, that it required several minutes of decompressive thinking to shake off the horrible images that lingered on long after I had put my Easter People bookmark between the pages.

Adel, Purnima, Aida, Sabina, Tara, Ling, Gladys, and Mai spun sinister yarns of true stories where oppressive totalitarian governments under communist control and fundamental Muslim cleansing squads took everything from them—their families, dignity, children, livelihood, and sense of self—all for the crime of being followers of Christ.

The words of Matthew 10:22 "You will be hated by everyone because of me, but the one who stands firm to the end will be saved," are taken to an unfathomable level by every one of these women who are hunted by Jihad squads, forsaken by their families, or locked up in prison and tortured.

When I read as Adel—an Indonesian Christian—witnessed her mother, son, mother-in-law, and several neighbors butchered in front of her by machete-wielding jihadists, and she repeatedly screamed in defense "The blood of Jesus is all-powerful!" only to be struck harder with the broad end of a sword over and over again to the point that—to finally silence the infidel for good—they shoved a fistful of leaves into her mouth and set them on fire…I felt nauseous. This all took place at the peak of a mountain, where she admits she was tempted to throw herself off to put an end to the suffering. Instead, her faith in Christ prevailed and she leaned upon the scriptures and prayed for the forgiveness of her captors, much like Jesus did the Roman soldiers as they pounded nails into his flesh. She prayed that they wake up from the evil spell that had been cast upon them by a bloodthirsty devil and realize what they were doing.

This is a greater saint than I could ever aspire to become.

When you read things like this, aside from the internal rage it arouses, it brings to light the pettiness of grudges we cling to. Now, I've never faced anything remotely close to what Adel had to endure on that day, or henceforth thereafter, but I noticed how after I had finished this book, that, a lot of the temptation to slander those who had wronged me in thoughtful soliloquies while I vacuum or do the dishes (as sometimes became a habit) gradually began to dissolve.

I do commend these women for their perseverance in faith despite the inhuman odds they were up against. The stories are worse than any shock literature I have ever encountered, because, unlike Chuck Palahniuk's Haunted, or Bret Easton Ellis's American Psycho, these were all true stories. All with a common mortar running through the foundation of every act perpetrated against the guilty eight: a hatred for Christ.

Every story of the eight is unique on its own, but of the eight, Tara, from Pakistan, stuck out to me the most.

Tara's story began as an innocent teenager who grew up in a prominent and ardent Muslim family with a proud name. One day a package arrived at the doorstep of her family's mansion. As any twelve-year-old can attest to, receiving an unexpected package in the mail is tantamount to a pop-up birthday gift. What was inside was a small book with the word Genesis inscribed on the cover. It wasn't by chance that Tara had gotten this book, it was only after she had filled out a small coupon in a magazine that promised free books to be delivered to the recipient.

But she hadn't expected this.

A twelve-year-old owning any portion of The Bible in her family was the equivalent of mailing away for a subscription to Hustler magazine in modern-day America. Even worse, it directly contrasted with the Muslim principles she was brought up with. But curiosity got the best of her, and over two years she completed the study guides in private and grew to love the certificates that came in return after she mailed away the tests. After all the books were completed she received her very own onion-skin sheeted and gold-crusted copy of The Holy Bible, with her name written in fancy script.

It was the most beautiful book she had ever seen before in her life.

She knew it was wrong to own a Bible and hid it under her bed. 

There was no temptation of converting to Christianity, she knew better than that, she was a Muslim, and would always be a Muslim. That was an irrefutable fact. The Bible to her was nothing more than a fascinating fairy tale. A hocus pocus alternative with interesting chronicles.

But the curiosity nagged at her, and when she went on a pilgrimage to Iran and met a Christian for the first time in her life and then experienced a Christian service at a church (with permission from the police, as, as a Muslim woman, she was forbidden to attend a church service at the risk of being hung) she then returned to her Bible and immersed herself in the scriptures with a reborn eye, now searching for the truth.

It was after persistent questioning from Tara of a local pastor whose faith was only skin deep and who wanted to rid himself of the potential hassle from authority, that her secret became revealed to her father.

He became enraged at the news of his favorite daughters' egregious betrayal by even dipping into the forbidden waters of curiosity drenched in Christianity and ordered her away from his sight. She ran crying from the man whom she loved more than anything in the world to the sanctity of her bedroom and opened her Bible up to the book of Psalms. So immersed she was in scripture that she didn't hear her father enter the room. Once he saw what she was reading he proceeded to explode and began beating her mercilessly. Her brother entered the room to intervene and prevent further harm. But once he found out what the culprit was behind the fury, he instead joined the fracas and tore her Bible to shreds while her father found a leather belt and began whipping her across the back as she screamed in pain.

A few days later, Tara's father sat her down and apologized to her. In her sixteen years, he had never struck her, and it seemed to affect him at the moment as much as it did her. As a means of repairing the fissure that had grown between them, he let her know that the solution to the problem was to be that she become married. That way it was sure to prevent her from ever becoming distracted by Christianity or any other dangerous ideology again.

This was not what Tara wanted to hear. She protested and accidentally let it slip that she wanted to know what religion he was and that acted as the final sizzle of a short fuse and her father exploded.

He then doubled down in his fury and, along with her brother, dragged her into her room and they beat her with every weapon they could find. As she lay alone in a bloody heap on the floor, they dragged all of her things out of the room and into the hallway. Tara's father gave her a final ultimatum: either she gets married, or lie there on the floor to die.

The choice was hers.

She was terrified and prayed to God for direction in her life, unsure of which God she was praying to at the moment. It had been three days since the terrible beating and the family had planned on letting the hunger pangs prevail and force her back into normalcy.

Instead, she searched her closet and found a travel bag with a change of clothes, some money, and her passport. Running away would be devastating for her family's posterity, but she knew it was her only choice and snuck out of her bedroom window.

From that point forward her trials only began to increase, as, unfathomable as it may seem, she became the target of a hunt initiated by her family. Aunts, Uncles, and Cousins of her blood were now all on the lookout for Tara so her father could exact his revenge upon the betrayer and kill her for unpardonable transgressions.

 

***

 

As shocking as that story may sound, it is only par for the course of unfettered brutality aroused by a mere choice of religious preference.

This book was about as sobering of a collection of accounts as I can remember and is only rivaled in some aspect by Yeonmi Park's In Order To Live.

Humbling, shocking, devastating, inspiring—there are not enough words within my lexicon to describe the impact felt by this book.

Not for the timid reader.

Praise be to God & God Bless America.

We don't know how good we have it here. We really don't.

Grade: A+

Verdict: Read