I thought I'd share this email from my friend Charl. He speaks internationally on the subject and has been able to lead to Christ the leader of the attackers of the church massacre on a Sunday morning which he attended. His book is fascinating and his testimony of how God has used his efforts to help Christians re-think their responsibilities on this topic. I've got another email that actually pictures the aftermath of what that church looked like following the congregation being sprayed with machine gun fire. This took place in South Africa where Charl diligently still labors today among the most squalid of living conditions to reach the children and families.
Charl van Wyk <charl@charlvanwyk.info>
To:Bea
Feb 2 at 3:17 AM
Charl's Mission News
In Touch Mission International,
PO Box 7575, Tempe, AZ 85281
Email:
charl@charlvanwyk.info
Web:
http://www.charlvanwyk.info
www.facebook.com/authorcharlvanwyk
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Sneak peek at 'Shooting Back Again'
I’m busy working on a sequel to my book ‘Shooting Back’; I thought you might enjoy a sneak peek at ‘Shooting Back Again’:
“Hand me your gun… your wallet… and your cellphone,” said a voice behind me.
It was fifteen years after the St. James Massacre and I was once again called upon to use my firearm in a dangerous situation.
I was at the
Reclaiming Africa for Christ Biblical World View Summit near Cape Town with Frontline Fellowship, the mission organization I was working with at the time. The conference in Mizpah was held during June/July 2008. It featured more than a dozen lecturers and numerous films and outreaches.
I had invited a former APLA (Azanian People’s Liberation Army) terrorist to the summit. Sipho had been a Unit Commander in the organization and told me he had come to faith in Christ.
At that time, I was host of a radio show called
Salt and Light on Radio Tygerberg in Cape Town. We planned to do a radio show with one of our guest speakers at the summit, Philip Stott, a Creation Scientist.
When Sipho heard I was going into town in the mission pickup truck, he approached me. “I need to get back to the township urgently,” he said.
I was surprised. He was supposed to stay at the summit for the entire time.
“I have a meeting with the PAC leaders,” he insisted. “They are meeting now. They owe me some money and I need to discuss it with them.”
The Pan Africanist Congress of Azania (once known as the Pan Africanist Congress, abbreviated as the PAC) is a South African Black Nationalist movement that is now a political party. It was founded by an Africanist group, led by Robert Sobukwe, which had broken away from the African National Congress (ANC).
“Please give me a ride into town and drop me off at Khayelitsha,” he said. This is a partially informal township 20 miles (30 km) south-east of Cape Town, South Africa
I agreed, and he jumped into the back of the small pickup truck. It was a single cab with a cap (canopy) over the truck bed. We call the small pickup, a 'bakkie' in South Africa. The Creation Scientist joined me in the front and we set off.
Obviously, it was impossible to communicate with someone in the back of the vehicle so before we left, we discussed exactly where Sipho was to be dropped off when we got to Khayelitsha. I told him I wanted to drop him off at the local sports center and then continue from there to the radio station to do the interview. He was happy with that.
As we turned off the National road, Sipho suddenly started shouting out the side window of the truck cap.
“Do a U-turn,” he screamed, pointing. “Do a U-turn now, and let me off over there!”
I was completely taken aback. It was only a few hundred yards from the place we originally agreed on. It wasn’t as if he had to walk a few miles. He needed just to cross the road.
I did the U-turn and stopped for him to jump out of the truck. I also got out and helped to retrieve his bags from the back of the vehicle.
Suddenly, I was aware of someone behind me.
"Hand me your gun... your wallet... and your cellphone," he said.
I spun round. Two men stood there. One of them pointed a pistol in my direction. Subconsciously, I noticed it was not pointed directly at me. I thought afterwards he may have done that to protect himself if he was caught by the police. He could say it went off by accident and he didn’t actually point the weapon at me.
At the same time, I knew if I made any move, he would shoot me immediately.
They body-searched me and found my cellphone, identification document, and my wallet. They also discovered foreign passports belonging to summit participants. I had their passports with me as I had to get them sanctioned by the prison services so they could minister to the inmates later.
They searched me repeatedly for weapons.
“Give us your gun,” they shouted.
“I don’t have a gun,” I lied.
They were convinced I must have one on me and kept searching. Finally, they gave up. Fortunately, they never found the weapon in my ankle holster.
They left the former APLA Unit Commander alone, other than asking for his cellphone. Instead they went straight to the elderly Creation Scientist and harassed him.
“When the door opened,” Philip said later, “I hardly noticed. It was almost as if it had happened in a dream.”
“Give me your cellphone. Now!” said one of the men looking straight at Philip. He later described him as a reasonably tidily dressed man.
“He was not quite as dark as most Africans – probably some racial mixture – and his English was surprisingly good,” Philip said. “Somehow I seemed to be in a trance and couldn’t focus on him or pay attention to what he was saying. My attention was fixed on the gun in his hand – it was in sharp focus and the barrel was pointing at my stomach.”
The conversation went something like this.
“Give me your cell phone.”
“I haven’t got a cell phone with me.”
“Give me your money.”
“I didn’t bring any money with me.”
“Give me your gun.”
“I haven’t got a gun.”
The thug didn’t believe him. He started again on his cycle of demands, searching Philip for whatever he could find.
“Why haven’t you given us your cell phone?” a second thug demanded. He also had a gun.
“I hardly caught a glimpse of it,” Philip said, “before it was pressed against my side. The first thug stopped groping my clothes and the second took over demanding my money, my gun, and my cell phone. I explained once again I just don’t have what they’re asking for. Thug number two seemed to lose patience as the first thug attempted to remove my camera from my jacket. The long barrel of his pistol swung from my stomach to my knees and back again.”
“Give me your cellphone!” Thug number two demanded angrily as he jabbed his gun into Philip’s ribs.
“I felt as though I was in a dream,” recalled Philip. “Could this really be happening? What could I do? I was almost paralyzed as I gestured helplessly with my empty hands.”
Finally, they left him alone and began searching the truck thoroughly, opening the glove box to have a closer look. One of them was standing with his gun facing towards Philip, while the other looked for guns. They were adamant we had a gun and threatened to shoot us if they could not find it.
While their attention was diverted, it gave me the opportunity to pull out my firearm. Crouching down and keeping my head below the bonnet (hood) of the car, I moved around the vehicle and past the driver’s side window on the right with my gun clasped in both hands.
Sipho heard me cock my firearm and took cover on my side of the vehicle. I moved to the front of the pickup and shouted at the thugs. For a split second they were distracted, and I opened fire with my 9mm Heckler and Koch pistol.
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