DAR ES SALAAM, Tanzania (Baptist Press) — [sermon version at bottom]
“Are we going to shoot them all together or one at a time?” the abductor asked his two associates.
Lined up on their knees with their backs to him were three missionaries of the Southern Baptist Foreign Mission Board and two missionary children. They had been abducted on Aug. 5, along with their vehicle, two hours earlier just outside a game reserve in central Tanzania. A sixth member of the group was left behind, hiding at the scene of the kidnapping.
“Oh, God, they’re going to shoot Sandy,” prayed missionary David Moreland as the gunman grabbed another missionary, Sandy Harrington, from the line and forced her to kneel five feet away.
“I was absolutely terrified,” said Harrington of Newport News, Virginia. “My fear had been escalating throughout the whole ordeal. But even then, there was a calmness in the midst of my terror — a sense of heaven-wardness. ‘If they killed me, I’d be with God,’ I thought to myself.”
But she said to the gunman, “Please don’t shoot me.”
“We all grabbed one another’s hand,” Moreland said, with tears in his eyes. “I thought I was holding my wife’s hand for the last time. We all tensed up, expecting the bullets to hit. I started to pray out loud and committed us to the Lord,” he said. He prayed, “Lord, put your angels around us, but if it’s time for us to go, then it’s time. Do your will.”
“I truly had a peace that passed all understanding,” Moreland’s wife, Millie, said. “We were ready to go. If we died, we died, but at least we were together. We had surrendered everything.” The Morelands are from Monroe, La.
Harrington, too, felt a similar peace. “During the calmness in my terror, I remembered the Bible verse in the book of Romans saying nothing could separate us from the love of Christ — not even death.” She recalled praying for God’s angels to protect them. “We were all kneeling, holding hands and praying out loud.”
At the same time, 10-year-old Joanna Giddens had two thoughts. “Would we be saved or killed? Would they shoot us or would the police find us?” wondered Giddens, daughter of Foreign Mission Board missionaries Ed and Nancy Giddens of Sepulveda, Calif. “I wasn’t scared, though, because I knew that with God, everything would be all right. When they lined us up, we held hands, thinking they would shoot us with the machine gun but we prayed for God to protect us with his angels.”
“When I saw the gun, I felt scared at first,” said Harrington’s daughter, Christine, age 10, “but I knew I would go to heaven if I was killed, and that was better than being alive … so, I didn’t care.”
Lined up, kneeling, their backs to the gunman, holding hands and praying aloud, the five expected to die. Then one of the abductors leaned down and asked David Moreland a question.
“Are you a ‘padre?’” he asked.
Sandy Harrington was confused. She had been torn from the group, then put back with them, told to stand, then forced to kneel. Afraid for her life, she overheard the kidnappers’ discussion with Moreland.
“Yes, I’m a ‘padre,’” Moreland responded to their question. “I’m a missionary with the Baptist church here in Tanzania.” “The next thing I knew,” Harrington said, “we were all being told to drink this orange liquid they put before us. I was afraid it was poison and didn’t know whether to drink it, but David said to drink it, that it was OK.” “When I saw the juice, I felt like shouting,” Moreland said, “because I knew then that they wouldn’t shoot us. I had read reports of other hijackings and knew that they drugged people. That’s what they were doing.”
The abductors had two one-liter bottles of orange drink and told their captives, “Drink. Drink.” Moreland was given the most — four glasses. The two girls each were forced to drink a partial glass. The other two were given one glass each. A large cloth was spread before them, and they were told to lie down. “Oh, God, what now?” Moreland prayed, thinking that they still might be killed. But one of the kidnappers said, “Lie down so you can sleep.” The abductors rummaged through the vehicle, then drove off.
“It was a great relief to have them gone,” Harrington said. “After they left, we walked, then I don’t remember much until the next day when I heard the plane” (flown by missionary pilot Mike Cannata, who found them). Moreland thought of getting back to the main road as quickly as possible. They walked awhile, then saw their vehicle with their belongings scattered all around it. “I told everyone to get off the road and hide,” Moreland said. He then thought of trying to sneak up on the vehicle. “I took three steps and the full force of the drug hit,” he said. “The next thing I remember was Millie saying, ‘David, that’s our airplane!’“ That was 18 hours later. They had survived the drug and the threat of attacks by lions and other wild animals that roam the area.
“I flew over and saw them (the victims) all lying on a dirt road,” Cannata said. “The airplane woke them up, and when they saw me, they began to wave.” Much later, Moreland said, “We crossed a line, the five of us, that most people don’t cross. I had peace because I knew Jesus Christ and knew that he was my Lord and Savior. I’ve been someplace in my life that most haven’t been, and I’m going to tell them about it. Then I’m going to ask them if they can say the same thing about Jesus that I can say”.
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Copyright (c) 1995 Baptist Press RNbp5816mrjB5815b6825
////////////////////// Sermon Version /////////////////////////////
Central Tanzania, Africa. August 5, 1995.
Lined up on their knees were three Southern Baptist missionaries and two of their children. “Are we going to shoot them all together or one at a time?” the kidnapper asked his two helpers. He pointed an AK-47 assault rifle at them.
The gunman grabbed missionary Sandy Harrington from the line and forced her to kneel five feet away. She was absolutely terrified, and her fear had been escalating throughout the whole ordeal. But even then, there was a calmness in the midst of her terror — a sense of heaven-wardness. “If they killed me, I’ll be with God,’ she thought to herself. But she said to the gunman, “Please don’t shoot me.”
They all grabbed one another’s hands and tensed up, expecting the bullets to hit. One of them prayed, “Lord, put your angels around us, but if it’s time for us to go, then it’s time. Do your will.” He felt that everything was surrendered to God.
Sandy Harrington felt a similar peace. She remembered the Bible verse in the book of Romans saying nothing could separate them from the love of Christ — not even death.” Her 10-year-old daughter said, “When I saw the gun, I felt scared at first. But I knew I would go to heaven if I was killed, and that was better than being alive … so, I didn’t care.”
Lined up, kneeling, their backs to the gunman, holding hands and praying aloud, the five expected to die. Then one of the abductors leaned down and asked one of the men a question. “Are you a pastor?” “Yes, I’m a pastor, a Baptist missionary.” The kidnapper forced them all to take a drugged liquid. When they woke up, their car was gone but they were alive.
After the ordeal was over, one of the missionaries said, “We crossed a line, the five of us, that most people don’t cross. I had peace because I knew Jesus Christ and knew that he was my Lord and Savior. I’ve been someplace in my life that most haven’t been, and I’m going to tell them about it. Then I’m going to ask them if they can say the same thing about Jesus that I can say.”