Mofid Wasef is a friend of mine, for which I am eternally grateful. Mofid is also one of the most remarkable persons I’ve ever met in my life. In fact, I’m sure that most people who know him well would say the same thing, the knowledge of which will surely make him shake and bow his head. I’m hard pressed to know another person who naturally elicits that kind of response all of the time. Mofid would be the very first to admit his flaws. But, he’s not the only one shaking his head. I know others who know him, his story, and how he lives his life and they shake their head in wonder. Who is he and how does he do it? To follow his life in any given week is to see someone tireless in service to others, never complaining, but always bringing joy and comfort.

One of the most remarkable things about this man, who is the object of wonder, is that he never (and I mean never) calls attention to himself or anything he does. He is not just dismissive of compliments, he immediately diverts such attention in order to offer credit elsewhere. Every single time. Mofid makes me recognize that humanity has a chance.

This past Wednesday morning, in the hour that some of us spent with him, he made the simple statement that persecution is a blessing. Yes, persecution is a blessing.

Not, persecution is bad or wrong. Not, persecution is something we should strive to avoid. Not, persecution makes us stronger. No. Persecution is a blessing.

Now, it might be easy to let that one sort of roll over us and after a moment of thought, go on to the next thing. But, this is not of the stripe of “Bad stuff happens … move on.” In fact, this is quite a different animal and if it’s a really substantive thing, then we should be called to pay attention. I’ll argue that Mofid’s simple statement is at the core of what it means to follow Jesus and to claim identity as a Christian. Which is just another example of just how absurd this whole Christianity thing really is.

In a piece I wrote a couple of months ago, entitled Christianity is Absurd, I cited some recent examples of how several Christian communities responded to mass shootings and terror attacks. How their response was counter-intuitive in light of the suffering their families and communities endured. How they demonstrated a Gospel reaction to attack. They become a curiosity …  and then the world moves on and returns to reality. Or so it thinks.

Certainly, Mofid and his family and his many relations, in his home country of Egypt and in and around the village where he grew up, know persecution. I doubt anyone I’ve ever met nor anyone most of us have ever met have come close to knowing such persecution.

My simple dictionary says persecution is “ill treatment or hostility, especially related to beliefs.” It is “persistent annoyance or harassment.” Well, ok but let’s be honest, there are degrees of persecution as there are in hostility. Certainly, persecution for religious beliefs is a staple of history with no system innocent of its practice.

And, most of us are aware that a few of the faithful even seek martyrdom, the opportunity to die for one’s belief, or (more selfishly) obtain sympathy or admiration. But, this is not the same. Seeking death as an expression of faith is not the point Mofid was making. Nor is it the example of his life and the core of his belief.

No. The radical thought here is that we are being blessed while persecuted. In other words, persecution, as absurd is this may seem, is a gift.

But, a blessing is even more than a gift in the context we’re speaking about. It’s a thing that makes us more into the kind of person God wants us to be.

Not long before Jesus went to his death, he sat his disciples down and painted the picture for them about what they would face. It was not a rosy picture. (I just have to recall one of the facts supporting the reality of the Christian story and that is what possible motive would people have to start a religion that follows a dead and powerless god, the following of which continually led to their persecution, powerlessness and death?) This is no Prosperity gospel that is a current rage in some quarters (believe and you will be given material abundance through God’s favor), nor is it the Genie in the Bottle gospel that belief will result in the granting of one’s desires. No, this was part of the Good News that, though they would (not might, but would) be persecuted, hounded and even killed for their beliefs, they would be blessed.

Fundamentally, life isn’t safe. We can erect barriers and surround ourselves with wealth and comfort but that doesn’t make us safe. We become ill. We stumble. Make mistakes. Witness as loved ones suffer. Safety, like happiness, can be fleeting and the reaching for it a cause of some futility. In fact, Jesus certainly taught that neither safety nor happiness is the point. Truth and love. Justice, grace, forgiveness and redemption. Those are the point.

To be harassed, intimidated or even condemned for these ideals and living the life they ordain is to be blessed. No, the objective is not to seek these forces out … to seek martyrdom or to endure persecution because of some reward. That is backward thinking. The blessing is not the objective. The objective is to live a Gospel life and let the chips fall. And, then to realize that, if and when persecution arrives as a result, the blessings flow.

So, what is this blessing that arrives unbidden? It may be the gratitude from another person who has somehow benefited from our sacrifice, who has been pulled from some misery as the result of an act of love that required more than a little risk. The blessing can appear as a sense of joy or deep connection. The heart just knows. Or it can manifest as hope … the knowledge that these present circumstances are temporary and pale in light of a greater reality. This kind of knowledge has been known to flow into our pores to the point that it serves as an armor … not of a physical sort whereby the blows do not land on our flesh … but of a spiritual sort whereby their force is ameliorated, reduced and made far less consequential.

In this sense, the blessing is the powerful recognition that we belong to God, that he loves us and will care for us throughout eternity.

The danger, of course, is that we let this kind of thing go to our heads and believe that we are the truly righteous ones. Interestingly, this misappropriation of the Gospel has now been adapted into the story promulgated by secular culture: Each of us is fully righteous and woe to those who do not recognize that! No, God alone is fully righteous and we need to constantly hold up the mirror in order to check any sense of privilege at the door.

One woman questioned Mofid about the precautions he would be taking while traveling to Egypt this summer for a pastors conference. The group was warned not to take buses because of the potential for them to be attacked. After all, that is now becoming a regular occurrence, with the slaughter of people in Mofid’s village the incredibly painful reminder of how fragile life is for those who follow Jesus in certain parts of the world. Mofid calmly shrugged off the well-placed concern as he would swatting a fly. He was not dismissive, honoring the thought, but he reoriented it in context. It was something to be aware of but it was nothing more than a temporary distraction.

Listening to this kind of exchange, my friend Gary reflected afterwards that we American Christians should maybe feel guilty because we do not face these regular threats to our existence due to our faith. I get his point but I might put it a little differently, to which I’m sure he would agree. I would say that our faith suffers because we insulate ourselves from the quality of surrender to God that is required by people living those kinds of lives. The Gospel was born under the boot of severe oppression by both political and religious leaders. It was nurtured and flourished early on in environments very similar to what Mofid’s people face every day. The beauty and clarity of the central tenets of the faith are inextricably linked with suffering, not of earthly triumph.

We are called to keep our lamps lit, which means to be both true and vigilant. That light, regardless of circumstances, is a beacon to both offer and receive blessings. I pray that my own lamp, as poorly fueled as it often is, can shine brightly enough … and with God’s help it will. And, no level of persecution, no matter how extreme, can diminish a fraction of that kind of glow. Thank you, Mofid and others like you who remind us of what is true and good. Amen.