"I will not be poisoned"
By Mathias Weststrate
My first conversation with Sello wasn't particularly friendly. As I do each day, I parked my car in the shade under the tree. I walked around the center, greeted this one and that one, and tried to start a conversation. Sello was new. He had joined the group of men who were getting ready to do some odd jobs around the center. I greeted him, “I haven’t seen you before, nice to meet you. My name is Mathias, and what’s your name?” “Sello,” he said.
Catechism classes
After a bit of small talk, I warmly invited him to the catechism classes on Monday. His response was: “I will not be poisoned.”
For a moment, I was thrown off balance. Cautiously I replied: “Why not give it a chance, and maybe afterward we can have another chat.”
After the class, he came up to me. He said: “If what you said is true, then I have a big problem, because that would mean things are not right between me and God. Could we please talk about that?”
In the conversation that followed, everything came out. Sello had grown up in a family with a father who was a minister in a large church. But his father was also a witch doctor. Apparently, the two roles can coexist. He had seen firsthand how his father manipulated people into handing over their money. He used Bible verses to persuade them to give more and more to the church—for his own gain. His message was: “This is how Jesus will surely bless you.”
That’s why Sello said, “I know people with Bibles all too well. They use everything for themselves and talk about Jesus all the time.”
Regular attendee
That afternoon’s lesson was about Who God is and who man is. It was the first time Sello had heard that he was not in a right relationship with God. That sin came into the world through our own fault, and that God must punish every sin. It was a huge shock to him, because this was a completely different message from what he was used to. He couldn’t understand the idea that God is just. He had always learned that God was on his side. And he knew Jesus, but not as the Savior of lost sinners.
In the weeks that followed, Sello became a regular attendee. He would come walking up with a smile and shake my hand. And sometimes he slipped me a little note with a question—but no one was allowed to see it. Imagine if others found out! His last question was, “Is it grace that I’m beginning to see more and more who I really am?”
Difficult choice
No further question followed after that. Because last week, Sello came to me with sadness. His father had given him an ultimatum: he had to either stop attending the white man’s meetings or leave the family. He didn’t know what to do. Leaving his parents would bring shame to the family. But going on alone was also impossible. He had no house, no money, and no job. “What should I do?” he asked. I answered: “I don’t know either, Sello. Try to lay it before the Lord, and in the meantime, I’ll try to find a way for you to attend the meetings again.”
Since then, I haven’t seen him again. Your heart weeps at such a moment. “Lord, if it pleases Thee, would Thou bring him back—Sello, who seemed an enemy, but gradually became open to instruction?” In moments like that, the sigh arises:
Lord may Thy Kingdom come with haste;
Lay Satan's dark domain to waste;
And rule us by Thy precious Word,
Till everywhere Thy praise be heard.
Let all the earth Thy name revere,
For Thou in glory shalt appear.
