THE STORY OF STEPHEN LUNGU – Part 2

THE  STORY  OF  STEPHEN  LUNGU  Continued

Part II  Hate for Whites, and Love of Power through Violence

“ … since they did not see it worth while to retain the knowledge of God, God gave them up to their own depraved reason to do what ought not to be done. They were filled with all manner of unrighteousness, evil, covetousness, malice. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, maliciousness. They are gossips, slanderers, haters of God … “ (Romans 1:28-30)

འཕྲིན་ཡིག་བསྐུར༌ཡུལ། 1:28-30

མི་དེ་དག་གིས་བསམ་བཞིན་དཀོན་མཆོག་ཤེས་མི་འདོད༌པས། ཁོང་གིས་དེ་དག་གི་སེམས་སུ་ལོག་སེམས་བཅངས་པ་དང་ལུགས་དང་འགལ་བའི་ལས་བྱེད་པའང་སྣང་མེད་དུ་བསྐྱུར་ཏོ།།

མི་དེ་དག་གི་སེམས་སུ་དྲང་བདེན་མ་ཡིན་པ༌དང༌། སྡིག༌པ། བརྣབ༌སེམས། ངན༌སེམས། ཕྲག༌དོག མི་གསོད་པ། འགྲན༌རྩོད། གཡོ༌སྒྱུ། གདུག་རྩུབ་བཅས་སྣ་ཚོགས་ཀྱིས་བཀང་བ༌དང༌། ཡང་མི་དེ་དག་ནི་ཕྲ་མ་བྱེད་མཁན༌དང༌།

ལྐོག་ནས་གཏམ་ངན་སྨྲ༌མཁན། དཀོན་མཆོག་ལ་སྡང༌མཁན། བརྙས་བཅོས་བྱེད༌མཁན། ང་རྒྱལ༌ཅན། རང་བསྟོད༌མཁན། ལས་ངན་པ་བཟོ༌མཁན། ཕ་མའི་ངག་ལ་མི་ཉན་པ།

 

Last time we read how Stephen and the others first met a local man who was recruiting boys to become Freedom Fighters for the overthrow of the white government in a Liberation Struggle that would win back for the blacks their own country of Zimbabwe. They were told, ‘You could learn how to use the methods of guerrilla warfare such as general civil disruption, petrol bombing, sabotage of banks, post offices, etc – things to give the authorities a lot of work.’

 

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He was 16, and the idea of being a terrorist frightened him. Instead he looked for paid work. He first worked for a while in the church that his parents had attended; but it seemed that those so-called Christians had been deceiving them into trusting their God. It certainly had not made them into better people. Then he took work as servant of a white lady. This how he continues his story:

“Her houseboy had left, so the lady asked me to be a servant even though I was a ragged street boy. But I did not know how to iron clothes, and I could not see any dirt to be scrubbed on the white floor of her kitchen. I was difficult to teach, and she soon showed her impatience with blacks, ‘You black kaffirs! You are baboons, you know that! You used to live in trees.’ So, I ran away. Pay was little anyway.

“The white people obviously hated us. And I began to hate them. I told the other boys both about the church and the white lady. They said, ‘What did we tell you? You’re so simple. We are a doormat for the white man to stand on.’

“I was 18 by now and I went with forty of them to a Marxist-run training camp which was set up and hidden in deep bush country several kilometres away. They accepted me, and it was like family to me for the first time in my life.                   

After two or three years of training, I was assigned with a band of other young men to cause trouble near my own home area; we had a busy time. We threw petrol bombs and hand grenades into banks, railway stations, beer gardens of the whites, churches, police cars; and we started riots at any unhappy gathering in the slums, stirring people to make violent protest. We made ourselves so angry; but we also thought, ‘One day we will have the houses and smart cars of the whites for ourselves.’                                                                                                                                                                In such ways our minds became filled with dissonant thoughts (nyon mongs). Having rejected God we had become poisoned by our ignorance (gti muk), desire (‘dod chags log) and hatred (zhe sdang); for that reason our anger grew. But I, Stephen, was also unhappy inside, very unhappy at times.

“Then one afternoon in March 1962, when I was nearly twenty years old, I was told of a plan to petrol bomb one of the banks in the Highfield shopping centre, Machipisa. This was nothing unusual, and the idea seemed fine to me. My friends and I spent the afternoon in a shack well hidden from police, filling the bottles with petrol, preparing our grenades and knives. Helped by beer and lazing around in the sun, we looked forward to the night’s excitement.

“We left our hiding place about 6pm, and began walking towards Machipisa. And there in a field on the outskirts, just beside the Dutch Church, we saw a very large grey tent. There was going to be some sort of Christian meeting. We looked inside. It was full of people, about 4000! We wondered about it. “Then a passing lady said, ‘They are Christians from South Africa. Come to the meeting and hear them!’ And she walked on.

I turned to the others and said, ‘Nothing good comes from South Africa. Why should they come to Zimbabwe and preach? Let’s teach them a lesson! It will cause much more harm than blowing up a bank.’

So, we changed our plans; we would bomb them instead!”

 

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In Part III next time we will learn about the bombing. There were deaths; but out of evil God caused new life to be born. Stephen met Jesus and was born again.

THE STORY OF STEPHEN LUNGU – Part 1

THE  STORY  OF  STEPHEN  LUNGU

Stephen tells his own story in the book Freedom Fighter, Monarch Publications, 1994. As a terrorist he was sitting at a Christian gathering in Zimbabwe, Africa, carrying a bag of bombs with the intention of killing as many people as possible; sitting and listening when he was seized. But not by the police; it was by the Holy Spirit of Jesus that he was arrested.

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“Death spread to all men because all men sinned” (footnote*)

Part I  Stephen, An Unloved and Unwanted Boy

It was in 1943 that he was born. His home was in slums on the edge of Salisbury, which was the capital of Rhodesia, as the country was then called. Its powerful Government was controlled by white landowners. He tells the story in his own words starting as far back as he can remember:

“My mother was always cross with me because, as a small boy aged four, I was often sick with chest pains; and whenever I coughed, she would scold me. But I did love the times when she had drunk beer and was relaxed, and then I could cuddle up against her big warm body. She was very, very black; and I thought her beautiful.

“Mama and Papa used to fight, on the few occasions that Papa came home. He didn’t like me, telling me I wasn’t his son; but he liked my brother John The very fact that I existed seemed to be the cause of their quarrelling; and that too was what made her angry with me.

“Then there was a time when Papa didn’t come home at all. I was seven, John was five, and we had a baby sister. And one day Mama took us from our hut, and we walked into the square of the black township called Highfield. There she said, ‘Stephen, I want you to stay here. Stay!’, then, ‘Here’ as she pushed little sister into my arms, ‘Take care of her. And watch your brother; don’t let him run off. I must go … to the toilet (gsang spyod).’

“We waited. But she didn’t come back. The police found us. First they put us in an orphanage. Then they found our Aunt Bete; so we were put to stay with her. But she did not want us.

“Then Papa came from the country of Malawi and took us away to live there with his new wife. He used to slap her frequently, and she in turn would beat me. So, finally, I ran away. I took the long train journey back to Rhodesia with no ticket and hiding under the seats. And back to Aunt Bete.

“But Aunt Bete was furious and locked me up in the chicken coop, and fed me with food left-overs that were just poured onto the wire netting. I had to sleep in the chicken dung. Later I was allowed to sweep and fetch water, and to sleep in the house; but I had to get out by day, and was always hungry. I discovered that, if I walked across town, I could find and eat thrown-away food in the waste bins of white houses. It was food that was often slimy or green with mould. And sometimes it made me horribly sick, but I was no longer hungry all the time.

“I was eight years old by now, and found other poor boys. With them I would go to carry clubs for the white gentlemen at the golf club, if they asked us. Or we could fetch mis-hit tennis balls at the tennis club for the players. I earned a little money that way, but Aunt Bete found out and wanted the money. So I left and had to sleep in a scraped-out hollow in the sand under a bridge.                                                            With the other boys I learned to smoke tobacco, take drugs and drink alcohol. We would go to the cinema, and see the cowboy films; then learn how to throw knives.                                                         But before long less and less money could be earned at the white sports clubs. So I was forced back to scavenging for discarded food from garbage bins.

“I was 13, unloved, unwanted and depressed; and one day I unsuccessfully tried to commit suicide. Rescued, I was given a nice bed and food in the police station, and again in the hospital; but soon was sleeping under the bridge, and scavenging for food again. I thought, ‘Commit a crime, and the police will make sure I die properly!’                                                                                                                                                           After this I and the other boys turned into vicious teen-agers. We used stolen knives and used our power over people, causing pain and fear and robbing them for their money.

“When I was 16, I came to realise that Rhodesia did not belong to the whites; it was our country, its real name was Zimbabwe. And that also was when some men found us and told us that they could train us to become Freedom Fighters for our liberation from white rule. We did not know that they were being paid to do this by communists in other countries.”

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Next time, Part II: How Stephen came to hate the whites in Rhodesia, and was trained in terrorist methods.

*This quotation is part of Romans 5 verse 12. The story of how the first man sinned and died is told in Genesis Chapter 3. As a result (rgyu rkyen snga phyi), men are born with the three poisons (dug gsum) of desire, hatred and ignorance. 

THE STORY OF MARIAM

THE  STORY  OF  MARIAM

Christmas (Christ’s Birthday) is celebrated at this time of year. This story of how Jesus was born to a virgin (mo gsar) named Mariam is told in the Gospel of Luke. Never before had a girl, without experience of union with a man (skyes-pa dang ‘dus ma myong), given birth to a child. For this reason Dr Luke, a physician, had made detailed enquiry of events from the beginning in order to be certain of the facts.

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It was about 2015 to 2020 years ago, and Mariam was probably a teen-age girl. She lived in  the West Asian country of Israel. Although her family was poor, its lineage (rgyud-pa) went back to David, who had been king of the Jews a thousand years beforehand. She was promised in marriage to a man called Joseph whose lineage also went back to the kings of David’s dynasty.

Until wedding rituals were finished, she was being kept at home.

It was during that time that a messenger-angel, called Gabriel, came from God and said to her, Greetings, O favoured one, the Lord is with you!

 

ལེའུ་དང་པོ། 1:26-28

ཨེ༷་ལི་ས་བེད་མངལ་དང་ལྡན་པར་གྱུར་བའི་ཟླ་བ་དྲུག་པར་དཀོན་མཆོག་གིས་ཕོ་ཉ་གེ༷བ་རི་ཨེལ་ག༷་ལིལ་ཡུལ་གྱི་ན༷་ཙ་རེལ་ཟེར་བའི་གྲོང་ཚོར་

མི༷ར་ཡམ་ཞེས་ཟེར་བའི་གཞོན་ནུ་མའི་སར་མངགས། མི༷ར་ཡམ་ནི་རྒྱལ་པོ་དཱ༷་བིད་ཀྱི་རྒྱུད་པ་ཡོ༷་སེབ་ཀྱི་བཟའ་ཟླར་འགྱུར་བ་ཐག་གཅོད་བྱས་པ་རེད།

ནང་ལ་ཕེབས་སྐབས་གེ༷བ་རི་ཨེལ་གྱིས་ཁོ་མོར་“ཐུགས་རྗེ་ཐོབ་པ་ཁྱོད་ལ་བདེ་བ་དང་ལྡན་པར་གྱུར་ཅིག གཙོ་བོ་ཁྱོད་དང་མཉམ་དུ་བཞུགས་”ཞེས་གསུངས།

His words made Mariam very frightened. She wondered what was the meaning of this greeting. The angel spoke again, Don’t fear, Mariam; God is pleased with you. You’ll have a son whom you are to call Jesus. He’ll be great and be given the name The Son of the Most High God. He will be king in the line of King David over Israel, and his kingdom will last for ever.’

 

ལེའུ་དང་པོ། 1:30-33

དཀོན་མཆོག་གི་ཕོ་ཉས་ཁོ་མོར་“མི༷ར་ཡམ། མ་འཇིགས་ཤིག དཀོན་མཆོག་ནས་ཁྱོད་ལ་ཐུགས་རྗེ་ཐོབ།

ལྟོས་ཤིག ཁྱོད་མངལ་དང་ལྡན་པར་འགྱུར་ཏེ་སྲས་ཤིག་སྐྱེས་ནས་ཁྱོད་ཀྱིས་ཁོང་གི་མཚན་ལ་ཡེ༷་ཤུ་ཞེས་ཐོགས་ཤིག

ཁོང་སྐྱེས་བུ་ཆེན་པོར་འགྱུར་ལ་བླ་ན་མེད་པའི་དཀོན་མཆོག་གི་སྲས་ཞེས་ཀྱང་གསོལ་བར་འགྱུར། གཙོ་བོ་དཀོན་མཆོག་གིས་ཁོང་ལ་རང་གི་མེས་པོ་དཱ༷་བིད་གྱི་བཞུགས་ཁྲི་གནང་ཞིང༌།

ཁོང་གིས་ཡ༷་ཀོབ་ཀྱི་རྒྱུད་པར་དུས་རྒྱུན་དུ་དབང་སྒྱུར་ལ། ཁོང་གི་རྒྱལ་སྲིད་ནི་མཐའ་མེད་པའོ་”ཞེས་གསུངས།

 

But Mariam did not understand, because her marriage to Joseph was not yet completed. She said, ‘How can that be? I am a virgin.’

 

ལེའུ་དང་པོ། 1:34

མི༷ར་ཡམ་གྱིས་ཕོ་ཉ་ལ་“ང་སྐྱེས་པ་དང་འདུས་མ་མྱོང་བས་འདི་ཅི་ལྟར་སྲིད་”ཅེས་ཞུས་པ་ན།

 

And Gabriel explained, The Holy Spirit will fall upon you, and the power of the Most High God will spread over you; therefore the child to be born to you will be called the holy Son of God … For nothing will be impossible with God.

 

ལེའུ་དང་པོ། 1:35

ཕོ་ཉས་“དམ་པའི་ཐུགས་ཉིད་ཁྱོད་ལ་འབབ་ཅིང་བླ་ན་མེད་པའི་དཀོན་མཆོག་གི་ནུས་མཐུ་ཁྱོད་ལ་ཁྱབ་པར་འགྱུར། དེའི་ཕྱིར་ཕྲུ་གུ་དམ་པ་དེ་ལ་དཀོན་མཆོག་གི་སྲས་ཞེས་གསོལ།

ལེའུ་དང་པོ། 1:37

གང་ཡིན་ཟེར་ན། དཀོན་མཆོག་གིས་མཛད་མི་སྲིད་པ་གང་ཡང་མེད་དོ་”ཞེས་གསུངས།

 

And Mariam believed, and said, I am the Lord’s maidservant (gyok-mo). So, let it happen to me as you say.’

 

ལེའུ་དང་པོ། 1:38

དེ་ནས་མི༷ར་ཡམ་གྱིས་“ང་གཙོ་བོའི་གཡོག་མོ་ཞིག་ཡིན་ཏེ་ཁྱེད་ཀྱི་བཀའ་ལྟར་ང་ལ་འབྱུང་བར་ཤོག་”ཅེས་སྨྲས་ནས་ཕོ་ཉ་ཕར་ཕེབས།

 

Then the angel left, and Mariam’s heart was filled with wonder and joy. What to say? She was just a village girl; what a privilege that God was giving her!

And she sang; she knew that she was blessed because God’s plan to bless the world given to Abraham, the forefather of the Israelite nation, was about to be fulfilled through her. And she foresaw that future generations would call her blessed as the mother of the Messiah Christ Jesus.

 

ལེའུ་དང་པོ། 1:46-50

ཡང་མི༷ར་ཡམ་གྱིས་ ང་ཡི་སེམས་ནས་གཙོ་བོར་བསྟོད༎

དཀོན་མཆོག་སྐྱབས་མགོན་ལ་ཡི་རང༌༎

ཁོང་གིས་དམའ་བའི་གཡོག་མོར་གཟིགས༎ ད་ནས་མི་རབས་ཀུན་གྱིས་ནི༎ ང་ལ་བདེ་ལེགས་བརྗོད་པར་འགྱུར༎

དབང་ཀུན་ལྡན་པས་ང་ལ་ནི༎ ངོ་མཚར་ལས་རྣམས་མཛད་པ་དང༌༎ ཁོང་གི་མཚན་ནི་དམ་པ་ཡིན༎

ཁོང་ལ་གུས་པའི་མི་རབས་ཀུན༎ ཁོང་གི་ཐུགས་རྗེས་ཁྱབ་པར་འགྱུར༎

 

ལེའུ་དང་པོ། 1:54-55

ཁོང་གིས་མེས་པོར་གསུངས་པ་ལྟར༎ གཡོག་པོ་ཡི༷་སི་ར་ཨེལ་ལ༎ ཁོང་གིས་རོགས་པ་གནང་བར་མཛད༎ ཨ༷བ་ར་ཧམ་དང་དེའི་རྒྱུད་པ༎ དགོངས་ནས་ནམ་ཡང་ཐུགས་རྗེས་གཟིགས༎ ཞེས་གསུངས་སོ།

 

Her song is still sung by churches all around the world, especially at Christmas time.

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Mariam believed that what God told her would happen; and, as a result, she was mightily blessed. Her life was changed. And, likewise, the lives of all who honour her holy son Jesus, trusting in his mercy, will be blessed.