The Political Prisoner Had a Remarkable Dream, but No Hope— The Religious Prisoners Prayed—Their Marvelous Deliverance
IN A RECENT number of the Outlook, Mr. George Kennan, who has written so much of Russian prison and exile life, gives the translation of the story of a political prisoner who graphically describes his feelings in a living tomb, with the watchful eyes of the guard peering at him through what has been named the "judas" window of the cell door. The Russian writer says:
"I listened attentively for some sound of human life or activity; but the silence was that of a sepulcher. Suddenly I became conscious of two human eyes staring at me from a narrow slit in the heavy plank door. As I took a step toward them they vanished, and with a faint click the hinged cover of the peep-hole dropped into its place. The consciousness that vigilant, impersonal, and apparently disembodied eyes were constantly watching me—as if I were an insect under a microscope—took away the only comfort there was in solitude. Aloneness I could endure, but secret, stealthy surveillance, in addition to loneliness, was intolerable. 'However,' I thought, 'darkness will shelter me from that,' and stepping to the table, I blew out the light. In a few minutes the key grated in the rusty lock, the door opened, and a soldier entered with another lighted lamp.
" 'Putting out the light is not allowed,' he said; 'and if you do it again, we'll put you in a place where it will be dark all the time.'
"I made no reply, but when he had gone I set the lamp on the floor, in the farthest corner of the cell, and threw myself on the bed. Slowly and mournfully, at the quarter-hour, the bells in the spire of the fortress cathedral chimed out the air of the liturgical response, 'Have mercy, O Lord!'
"I fell asleep at last; but the eyes at the slit of the 'judas,' and the faint, far-away chiming of church melodies, gave form and color to a vivid dream in which I imagined that I had fallen into a deathlike trance and was about to be buried. The priest who was conducting the funeral service looked into my coffin through a slit in the lid, and saw, with comprehending eyes, that I was alive; but turning away indifferently, he gave the signal for lowering my body into the grave."
The picture is surely a somber one. The story of the peering eyes at the "judas" window reminds us of a narrative told by one of our own workers, Brother L. R. Conradi, now president of the European Division Conference, who visited Russia in the beginning of our missionary work there years ago, and was thrown, with his associate, into prison. Of experiences in the cell, and of the Lord's delivering providence in answer to prayer, Brother Conradi tells us:
"Following our first baptism and the organization of the first church, somebody called out that the police were waiting for us. We showed our passports to the officer, who put them in his pocket. Next day we were brought before the court. We expected to be released at once, but instead we were sent to prison on the charge of 'Jewish heresy,' our observance of the Sabbath of the fourth commandment leading to this charge on the part of the authorities.
"The prison doors were locked. High walls surrounded us, shutting us away from all the rest of the world. There we were in a strange land, among people with a strange tongue, and I at that time able to understand only a few words. But my fellow worker was with me, and I can assure you that we prayed. And we prayed more than once or twice a day, too. In that prison cell there was a hole through which the jailer might look. Many times when he looked in, he found us on our knees praying. One day he said to me: 'O, your prayers are all in vain. Your God will never hear you.'
"Did God have His hand in our deliverance? In 1886, Seventh-day Adventists were not so well known in America as now. There were many states in America where we were not well represented. The ambassador from the United States to Russia might have been from some state where we were but little known; but somehow, or other, in God's providence, the right man for us was in the right place. That ambassador was a man from Detroit, Michigan. He had been at Battle Creek [our former denominational headquarters] a number of times. He knew all about our denomination; and when he heard of our case, he not only wrote a letter to the Russian minister of the interior, but he visited him personally. The minister said to him, 'Are these Seventh-day Adventist people Jews?' Our ambassador replied, 'Upon my word and honor, they believe in Jesus Christ, and are Christians.' 'Well, can you testify as ambassador to that very fact?' He said, 'I can; I know them.'
"Suppose another man had been there, who had not personally known our standing as Christians in the United States. I met that ambassador later in Detroit, and thanked him for what he had done. He said: 'Mr. Conradi, it caused me considerable work; but I was very happy, and all the other ambassadors congratulated me when I secured your release. They had feared it might not be possible.' It was not impossible, for there is One that watches over His children in need.
"Forty days had passed, and the same jailer who told us that God did not hear our prayers, had to take us out. As he led us along to liberty, he said, 'I am not worthy to lead you.' I asked, 'Why?' 'Because your God has answered your prayers.'"
What a blessedness to the soul in trouble to know that there is One in the heavens who cares, and who is able to help in His own good time and way! The Lord sets before His children an open door that no man can shut, the door of access to the throne of grace.
