Courage is easily recognised in a world where cowardice and obedience are the norm. Where another person’s word, reinforced by intimidation, is accepted without question. At such a time, someone who opposes the status quo, who sees things differently, and who has the courage to stand up and speak out becomes visible, like a lighthouse in the darkness.
In early 1945, a congress of all recognised religious denominations in Romania was held at the Palace Hall in Bucharest. The country was at war and occupied by the Red Army, and everyone’s hopes were pinned on the new communist leadership that was gradually taking root.
“Do not repay evil with evil or insult with insult. On the contrary, repay evil with blessing, because to this you were called so that you may inherit a blessing” (1 Peter 3:9).
The atmosphere was tense from the outset, as no one knew what would happen to the churches. However, the mood shifted once assurances were received that Stalin himself would protect the interests of the religious denominations. The various figures who took to the microphone one after another all spoke about the support they would offer the communist regime. The applause was unceasing.
But there were also people who did not agree with this compromise. Among them was Richard Wurmbrand, a Lutheran pastor who had worked with the Swedish Mission in Romania and been a fervent missionary during the war. He was dissatisfied with this servile attitude and felt restless in his seat. But what could he do in the face of such a crowd? Sitting next to him was his wife, Sabina, who looked him in the eye and said,
“Go and wash this shame from the face of Christ!”
“If I go, you’ll lose your husband,” he replied pensively.
“I don’t need a cowardly husband. Go!”
Once he reached the front of the auditorium, Wurmbrand looked out at all the bishops, priests, rabbis, and mullahs present and smiled at them. They probably already had an idea of the kind of praise the pastor was going to offer the regime. But when he pointed out that the primary duty of God’s servants is to glorify Him on earth, the audience began to whisper. Wurmbrand spoke about God’s eternal kingdom and the transience of political regimes. He also spoke about the danger of pledging blind allegiance to any of them.
His message was understood by everyone. Those present were electrified by his speech and applauded for several minutes. As more and more representatives agreed with the pastor, the minister of religious affairs ordered that Wurmbrand be silenced. Wurmbrand continued until the microphone was turned off. His speech still reached everyone’s ears.
A sermon for the jailers
Later, Wurmbrand would recall a small biblical detail that was very important to his experience. He discovered that the phrase “fear not!” appears 366 times in the Bible, exactly the number of days in the calendar, including leap years. One of those days was 29 February 1948, when Richard Wurmbrand was taken off the street and thrown into prison.
From that moment on, Wurmbrand disappeared, and Vasile Georgescu took his place — a false name used by the authorities to cover the pastor’s tracks. The young businessman, who had become a successful missionary among Romanian Jews during the war, was about to face the greatest trial of his life.
Rather than focusing on how difficult his situation was, Wurmbrand focused on how much he could accomplish. During his years in prison, he was transferred from one prison to another, meeting a multitude of people from various social classes who had been imprisoned due to the turbulent events of the time. These included politicians such as Lucreţiu Pătrășcanu and Ion Mihalache, the priest Nicolae Steinhardt, and countless others from all walks of life and the most diverse backgrounds. Towards all of them, Wurmbrand continued his mission of service.
When faced with suffering and barbarism, he did not back down; he chose to stand firm. Confronted by the violent Secret Service interrogators, he did not waver. He would rather suffer than betray his friends and, when asked for information, he would mislead his interrogators rather than help them. He maintained an unusual attitude towards his torturers. He made excuses for the officers who ordered him to be beaten and prayed for those who took pleasure in humiliating him. In front of the other prisoners, he tried to defend his torturers, emphasising that despite their crimes, they were human beings too.
At one point, he was taken in for questioning by a young officer named Lieutenant Grecu. The officer wanted a statement from the pastor so that he could press charges against him. When he was given a sheet of paper and a pen to confess his crime, Wurmbrand wrote more than the Communist officer could have expected. Among all the things he wrote, he made sure to note that he loved the lieutenant. This statement opened the next interrogation. The pastor saw this as the right moment to speak to a hardened heart about God’s love. For two hours, he spoke to the lieutenant about the power of the Word of God to change lives. He did the same the next day, and the lieutenant became interested in learning more about the God of the captive pastor. After two weeks of delving deeper into the Christian faith, Officer Grecu accepted Jesus into his life and became His disciple.
Love beyond prejudice
At the Târgu Ocna prison, Wurmbrand met an inmate whom he held in high regard. Boris Gorun was a labourer and a committed Marxist who had been imprisoned for protesting against Gheorghe Gheorghiu-Dej. After undergoing “re-education”, during which he demonstrated his loyalty to the regime, he became one of the torturers. Gorun had become so dehumanised that he did not hesitate to torture the doctor who had treated his wounds in prison. He was hated by all his former fellow inmates. Over time, he was transferred to another location.
A few years later, a person broken by torture — their flesh lacerated by the whip and their breathing laboured — was brought into Wurmbrand’s cell. When the pastor approached to tend to him, he discovered that it was Gorun, now abandoned even by his fellow party members, standing before him. At the eleventh hour, Gorun realised the error of his ways, but believed it was too late. His health deteriorated little by little. Wurmbrand stood by his side throughout. The staunch communist, who had always argued with the pastor about religion, now listened in tears to every word about the God who still loved him.
Wurmbrand drew him ever closer to God’s throne, helping him to realise that even a sinner like him still had a chance. The pastor witnessed the transformation of a hardened heart and remained by his new friend’s side until the very last moment. When he passed away, his hand was clasped in the hand of the person he had struck long ago, a person who had become their sibling in faith.
The release
Years passed, and Wurmbrand tirelessly spoke of his Lord to all who would listen. After more than 11 years, he was released from prison upon Stalin’s death. In order to break her spirit, his wife had been told that Richard had died, and their children had grown up without their father.
The period of peace, however, proved to be short-lived. The pastor could not remain silent, even when his licence to preach was revoked. He went from church to church, speaking about God, sharing his experiences, and warning people about the communist threat. After three years, he was imprisoned again. This time it was for a shorter period because people outside the country were doing everything they could to secure his release from the communist labour camp. The Romanian communist government used the release and deportation of certain individuals abroad to gain material advantages. This was the case with many Germans, who were “bought” by West Germany, and with some Jews who returned to their homeland. The usual price for one person was $2,000. Wurmbrand cost $10,000.
Once the transaction had been completed, he was released from prison and taken to the United States. It was 1966, and his new country was involved in the Vietnam War. On the day they landed at Philadelphia Airport and set off for their new home, Richard and Sabina witnessed a protest march. A Presbyterian pastor, who supported the communist fighters in North Vietnam, was defending the heroic struggle waged by that regime. Wurmbrand could not remain silent. He asked for the right to speak and, in front of the crowd, warned of the dangers posed by communist doctrine. The organising pastor approached Wurmbrand, angered by his words.
“What do you know about communism?”
“I have a PhD in communism!”
After uttering these words, he took off his shirt. In front of the crowd and the television cameras, he revealed his body, which was covered in wounds and scars. This gesture silenced all opposition. Numerous TV producers then sought to obtain his testimony. He became a vocal representative of those who were still suffering for Christ in communist camps. He wrote books recounting his experiences and played an important role in establishing the Voice of the Martyrs organisation.
His motto has always been: “Hate the evil systems, but love your persecutors. Love their souls, and try to win them for Christ.” He never wavered from this ideal or from the belief that everyone deserves to hear about God’s love, no matter how evil they may be or how much harm they have done. His entire life was a testament to the authenticity and power of this fundamental biblical truth.