A Time to Gather Stones
The following article is by Rick Willis, a freelance writer from Lebanon, MO.
The cool of the night air began to whisper through my light jacket. I sat with several others in a café sipping a Maciato, when suddenly the eerie Arabian chant began from several nearby minarets. Chorusing, one to another, the words were interpreted for me, "Allah is great. I bear testimony there is no deity except Allah. I bear testimony that Muhammad is his prophet. Allah is greatest. Come quickly to prayer." Chills went up my spine.
A group of seven people from Southern Heights Christian Church in Lebanon, MO were on a mission trip coordinated by David Mayer of Master Provisions. We were in the Muslim center of Prizren, the country of Kosova. Ancient Turkish baths were nearby, the walls of an old Roman fortress could be seen guarding the town from high on the hill just beyond us, and the streets run full with outside markets and Muslims who need to know that Jesus is more than a prophet.
Most Americans remember hearing of Kosova in the news back in 1998-99. The Serbs had fought the Bosnians and now turned their guns on this largely Albanian country. Less than 10% of those living in the region of Kosova were Serbs, but the Serbian government had gained control in 1989 and they exercised their power. Serbia was traditionally Orthodox (like many former communist countries, in name only), and the Kosovars were traditionally Muslim. Trust did not exist between the two groups.
We visited the town of Orlan and met Skender, a 24-year-old Christian - the only one in his family, which causes much distress - and he remembered the few Serbs in his town who took unfair advantage. The best land was taken, the nicest homes, women taken advantage of, and the Serbian governing officials winked at such things. Eventually resistance from the Kosovars began to occur and the Serbs decided to take serious action. Their goal was to kill many, destroy most homes, chase the Kosovar people into the wilderness and eventually out of the country, and intimidate everyone into submission.
Skender, who was 16 at the time, remembers the guns firing constantly, day and night, allowing no rest for the masses of people who fled. We visited the graves of a family of seven from Orlan who came upon the Serbian troops while running and were shot dead. We watched a video taken during the war, with gruesome scenes of charred bodies taken from burned houses, where they'd been left after being shot. Family members identified bodies as they picked through the ruins.
The focus of our mission trip was to experience first hand the distribution of clothing and to visit families who had adopted orphans. That is the dual mission of Master Provisions and Master Care, sister organizations who help meet the needs of people in impoverished lands, creating relationships in the process, and sharing the gospel of Jesus as the hope for eternity. We came to Kosova to view their clothing ministry, but we were not prepared for the impact this country had on us. A beautiful land full of red tiled houses (most new or in-process since the war), set amidst hills and forests. Into this scenic place had come destruction, the Serbs seeking an ethnic cleansing of Kosovars they did not want in the country, unless as servants. When America and NATO came to the rescue in 1999 great rejoicing took place. We went into the country apprehensive, but discovered that Kosovars love Americans, who became their countries national savior.
Skender's brother runs one of the clothing stores in Prishtina, where poor Kosovar people can maintain dignity and buy at a small cost needed clothing items. This also provides jobs for native people who run the stores. When people cannot afford to pay anything, the clothing is given away. Many needs are met in the process.
Although aggressive evangelism is still not allowed by the Muslims in this country, they are very open to the relationships created with helpful Americans. This becomes an inroad for information about Jesus, the resurrected Messiah, to be shared in more intimate surroundings. The approach of Team Kosova, lead by John Chestnut, which works hand-in-hand with Master Provisions, is not to disparage these Muslim people who share so much in common with Christians, but to built on the common ground. Muslims believe much that Christians believe, but need to understand that Jesus arose from the grave and is the Son of God sent to save us, not merely a prophet as the religion of Islam proclaims.
War is hell, they say, and the Kosova families who lived through the years of domination by Serbia can attest to that fact. America saved them from this hell and they are most thankful. Latif and Chefsera hosted us our last two nights in Orlan. They proudly displayed a large American flag on the wall. Latif said that if independence is gained by Kosova soon he plans to put another star on his flag, honoring the U.S. It is our prayer that through the ministries of Team Kosova and Master Provisions we can save them from a greater hell, with gratitude directed to the true Savior who comes to the rescue.
On a separate day, just outside the Muslim center of Prizren, another former Muslim turned Christian took us to his village not far down the road. The Serbs had stormed his village by surprise and the entire town ran for the wooded hills down the road past his house. Ismail and his sister left under sniper gunfire. He then led a group of about 300 people to safety many miles away, carrying an old man on his back most of the way. He was greatly honored by the family of the old man for his bravery.
Ismail led us to a hillside where 75 people, who died as the village was seized, are buried. You could not really call it a battle, because the ruling Serbian government had earlier taken away the guns of the Kosovars, promising their protection. They now came killing, and the Kosova people had little ability to protect themselves. A memorial on that hilltop had pictures of the dead, again very stark in its depiction of gruesome reality. One picture showed the ruins of buildings bombed and burned, some cars nearby in the picture still smoking from the fire. As we looked out the door of the small memorial toward a schoolyard below us with kids playing, we could tell this was the place of the picture. Ismail was solemn as he answered our questions. He is also a lone Christian in a family of Muslims who need to know the love, grace and forgiveness of Jesus Christ. He had told us of his joy in marriage, the celebration lasting a week with his family going to her home to get his bride and bring her back to his home, rejoicing on the way. On this day that joy was tempered by a grave we visited, of his previous girlfriend, who died during the days his village was seized. She was one of the 75 buried on the hill.
How fitting that Ismail was our first interpreter in Kosova. Ismail is the Muslim name in Kosova for Ishmael, the very one Abraham sent away, who then began what became the Arab people and eventually Islam. May the message of Jesus penetrate this Muslim culture, so that through Him many will regain the right to truly be called spiritual sons and daughters of Abraham.
In the book of Ecclesiastes Solomon tells of the seasons of life: A time to be born, a time to die; a time to plant and a time to uproot; a time to tear down and a time to heal; a time for war and a time for peace; a time to throw stones and a time to gather stones. All around us throughout our time in Kosova we saw houses being built, stone upon stone, often on the foundations of the former house destroyed during the war. It is a time for gathering stones in this country. A time for healing. A time to proclaim good news.
Thoughts ran through my head that night as I lay in bed beside my wife in Prizren. In the distance, I could hear the last call of the day to prayer from the minarets as I opened the balcony door and looked out upon the dark and silent marketplace. "God is great…come quickly to prayer." I slid back in bed and did just that.