Many years ago, after speaking to a conference of Japanese Americans in the Santa Cruz Mountains, I was invited to an informal service where a Caucasian American, married to an Asian wife, was to give his testimony of Christian conversion. Although weary from the day’s activity, I remained to hear one of the most startling narratives of life experiences I have ever heard – and I have heard many, some dramatic indeed. This one stands out because of the long distance the man had to go to find his way to Christ, hope, love and righteousness. His story ought to be written for all to read as a living text of what the gospel of Christ can do in a life. The following is a short summary that omits the sordid facts leading him downward until his entrance into the army to go to Vietnam where he fought during the height of that conflict – up to his ultimate recovery.
His goal was to serve as a marksman. He was found to have outstanding skill with a rifle. He was paired with buddies, sent out in small squads to encounter the enemy in the jungle. His life had lost most of any concern for others. He used people, was dissolute in sexual matters, and took up various habits which were debilitating and dehumanizing. He mastered his assignment, to the degree that he was permitted on his own to hunt down and kill the enemy. He became a loner. He had a knack for finding nests of enemy sharpshooters, routing and killing them. He seemed almost indefatigable at it. At night, he might not return to camp. He simply mounted the head of one of his kills of the day on a stick, and slept with confidence of safety. The native soldier would not cross a line where such an emblem might appear. It was proposed that he take a furlough, but he did not want to leave. He found that he liked what he was doing, even though the context of everything in his life had made a mongrel of him. Rather than accepting release after his stint, he signed up for another tour of duty. Even attentive officers were concerned about what he was making of himself. Still he carried on. He was a master of the killing fields. He married a Vietnamese, not for love, but to gain what he wanted sexually while at war. His detailed story held us with its horror and meaning. The whole story, in its detail, seems surreal.
At last this killing machine was drawn to Christ. He was enabled to see what he had become. He gave up his dissolute life, his violation of his marriage vows, and was mustered out of the army. He returned with his patient wife to California to discover if he could make up for what he had become and what he had done. Nightmares began to fade. He fell in love with his wife. He began to help others. He apologized to the people for what he had done in anger and hatred. He was hired by drug enforcement agencies in Los Angeles for his skills with weapons, and apparent fearless ability to encounter others in life threatening confrontations. He related to Asian people the need to advance the gospel, to end the hatred and killing, to honor God and serve one’s fellow mankind. He could smile again. He gained a sense of values. He cleaned up his language, his body, his habits, and his outlook. His purpose was to work with others who leaned in the direction of his former delinquency. With tears in our eyes, we heard a man tell the story of how a living Christ can rescue a person from so much evil. It is a miracle that one can traverse from the uttermost degradation to the uttermost in righteous recovery and the admission into divine grace. It is a mystery, but for some a decline becomes the opening to life and light. In death and darkness there is, for those with a shred of insight, a desire to find a way for peace, righteousness, love and dignity in acceptance of Jesus Christ. He found the way. The reality of redemption seemed to the congregation to be miraculous. It was, and continues. *Mark W. Lee, Sr. — 2016, 2020