I don’t want to be light or flippant about a serious matter, but the secret police of Romania were sometimes anything but secret! I remember one man who was so obvious that while he was following my friends, I decided to follow him! Part of his job, I’m sure, was to “psyche” us. I must confess he did a good job of that. But it was amazing to see him being so open with his psyche-ing.

One man was a little more subtle. I had been preaching the day before and had used the names “Gheorge” and “Ioan” (George and John), two common names there, as examples of small boys. It was a simple sermon illustration. On this particular Monday, a gentleman from the University was showing me around, being a little too “hospitable.” Then he began to share with me about Romanian Holy Days. He divulged the information that every Romanian had his own special saint day. “For example,” he said, “St. Gheorge...and St. Ioan...”

I got the message. He and his friends knew everything I was doing and wanted me to know that whatever horrible plot I had in mind for the dear people of Romania, I wouldn’t get away with it!

At the end of the summer I met one more secret policeman. He was totally open to the West, totally aware of the impossible position of his government, somehow wanting to reacxh out to me. He even invited me to play ping pong in his basement! But the greater shock was that the next morning, after he allowed me to stay in his home, he requested prayer. He was a lapsed Catholic. It was all he knew about Christ. Standing in a circle with family and neighbors, in the short time we had, together we invited the Holy Spirit into his home and heart.