Then the figure spoke to him in perfect Hindustani. “How long will you persecute Me? I have come to save you. You were praying to know the right way. Why do you not take it? I am the Way.”
At these words Sundar clambered onto his knees and began to pray. Fervently he asked Jesus Christ to forgive him and change him.
The vision finally faded, and as Sundar got up from his knees, he heard the whistle of the train in the distance. But all thoughts of taking his life were now gone. Instead Sundar felt an incredible sense of peace and joy flood over him. He had to tell someone about what had happened. Amazingly, the Jesus the missionaries talked about was alive, and He was the true Son of God!
Sundar ran into his father’s bedroom. “Father, wake up! I have something to tell you,” he said, shaking his father awake.
Sher Singh opened his bleary eyes. “What is it?”
“Father, it is wonderful news. I have seen Him, Jesus Christ. He came to me in my room, and He spoke to me in Hindustani.”
Sundar’s father sat up and wiped the sleep from his eyes. “What are you talking about, son?” he asked. “Three days ago you burned the Christian book, and now you are telling me you believe what it says? Are you touched in the head?”
Sundar stared at his father, desperate to think of a way to make him understand. But before he could do so, Sher Singh put his hand on his son’s shoulder. “Go back to bed now, and in the morning you will realize how foolish you are being. It is just a dream, and you must not make yourself overexcited with such imaginings,” he said.
Sundar made his way back to his bedroom and lay down, but he could not sleep. How amazing it was to think that Jesus was alive. No wonder the missionaries came from halfway across the world to tell the people of India about their God. Sundar was sure that he would do the same now that he knew that everything the Christians had told him about God was true.
When breakfast was served later that morning, Sundar’s father busied himself talking to his older sons. Sundar’s heart dropped as he realized that his father was not going to bring up the subject of what had happened during the night. Sundar knew that he would have to do it himself.
“Father,” he began. “About last night…”
Sher Singh waved his hand to stop Sundar. “Do not worry about it, son. It was the product of reading Christian books at school. They have played tricks on your mind at night. I will not mention it again, and neither should you.”
“But, Father,” Sundar said, desperation rising in his voice, “it was all true! I did see Jesus in the night, and I had just bathed in cold water, so I am sure I was not asleep. Besides, I feel different this morning.”
Two of Sundar’s older brothers snickered.
“I do feel different,” he went on, “and I am not ashamed to say it. I am a Christian now, and I will be until the day I die.”
Sundar’s father’s voice was serious and low as he said, “Now that would be very foolish, son. You are a Sikh, Sundar, not a Christian. You are the son of the son of a Sikh, your brothers are Sikhs, you will marry a Sikh and raise your children to be Sikh. It is a proud and strong heritage. Do you understand me?”
Sundar nodded. Of course he understood. He had always expected these things for himself, until now. But the vision of Jesus Christ had changed everything, and he knew he had to be true to that vision.
“Father, I will do anything in the world to please you, except for this,” Sundar said respectfully. “I have been searching for God, and now I have found Him. I will not let Him go, even if my life depends on it.”
“It well might,” Sundar heard his oldest brother mumble under his breath.
Chapter 4
“We Reject You Forever”
There he goes!” one of Sundar’s old friends yelled as Sundar rounded a corner on his way to the market. “Get him!”
Suddenly Sundar found his way blocked by the same group of hooligans he had led over the summer.
“Tell us you’re not a Christian,” one of them yelled. “It’s impossible.”
“Yes, we want to hear it from your own lips. Have you turned your back on Sikhs to follow the Englishman’s God?” another asked.
Sundar felt his heart beating under his muslin shirt. He took a deep breath and faced his friends. “It is true,” he said. “I did not wish to become a Christian, but Jesus appeared to me, and now I want to serve Him for the rest of my life.”
“It could be a short life,” laughed the tallest boy in the group as he produced a stout stick from behind his back. “What do you say now? Are you so sure that’s what you want?”
Sundar nodded. “Whether I live or die does not matter. I belong to Jesus Christ, and that is enough for me,” he said.
A nervous twitter of laughter arose from the group, and then the boys turned and walked away.
“We’ll get you later,” one of the boys shouted over his shoulder.
The mangoes and rice that Sundar had been sent to buy no longer seemed important. He walked past the market and found himself on the road that led to the holy man. He knew it well. It was the same road he had walked at least a hundred times with his mother. How he missed her. Now he wished she were still alive. He was positive she would have understood his quest and not mocked his new faith. She would have talked to Sher Singh on his behalf. But she was gone, and now there was no one to speak up for him. Sundar knew that his father was angry and embarrassed that he had converted to Christianity. Being a Sikh involved more than just religious beliefs. All Sikhs considered one another brothers, and to seal that bond, they all took the last name Singh. Singh, as Sundar had learned at his father’s knee, meant lion, and Sikhs were strong and brave—and true to one another. And now Sundar had broken that bond, betraying every Singh in India. It was a heavy burden to bear, and he could only pray that God would show him the way to get through the terrible crisis.
Eventually Sundar turned around and began walking back to Rampur, sure of only one thing—he had taken the name of Christ, and if that meant losing everything else, it was a trade-off he was prepared to make.
Thankfully, things went better at school. The Christian teachers prayed with Sundar and encouraged him not to give up his new faith. They told him that he was a natural leader and that if he stood up for Christ, other boys would follow his lead. And they did. Within a month three other Sikh boys were converted, and Sundar and the three others asked to be baptized. That was when trouble really began in Rampur. The people of the village could accept one convert, especially since Sundar had always been somewhat of a religious young man, but four boys snubbing the faith of their fathers was too much.
Sundar’s enthusiasm for his new faith had unknowingly inflamed the attitudes of the people of Rampur toward the missionaries, and the situation became dangerous. The Reverend Newton, principal of the Christian school, was brought before a magistrate and ordered to account for polluting the boys’ faith. The magistrate ordered the school to be shut down, and two of the new converts buckled under the pressure and renounced their Christian faith and returned to Sikhism. The third boy, Gurdit Singh, fled to a mission station two hundred miles away at Khanna, where reports coming back to Rampur said he had been baptized.
Sundar watched in shock as these events unfolded around him. Before he became a Christian, he had vowed to bring down the Christian school. Now, ironically, his conversion had played a large part in seeing the school closed. All he could do was pray that the situation would improve.
But it did not. Sundar learned that Gurdit’s father had gone to Khanna and pleaded for Gurdit to come home, telling him that his mother was very ill. When Gurdit arrived home, he found that it was a trick to get him back. His mother was in perfect health. Despite the trick, his family appeared to welcome him home and even to tolerate his new religion. But Sundar learned that a week after Gurdit had come home, he was killed. His brothers had poisoned him for disgracing the family name. Things in Sundar’s home were fast deteriorating as well. Sundar asked the Reverend Newton for help. The Reverend Newton had decided to stay on in Rampur, even though the school was closed, but he suggested that Sundar enroll in a boarding school for Christian boys at Ludhiana. Sundar thought that this sounded like a good idea, and the Reverend Newton arranged a scholarship for him to cover his fees and bought a train ticket for him to Ludhiana.
Sundar breathed a huge sigh of relief as he walked through the gates of Christian High School. The past few months had been the most difficult of his life, and he was glad to be among people who believed as he did. Sundar soon discovered, however, that most of his fellow students, even the Christian ones, did not share the joy of knowing Jesus Christ that he experienced. Despite all of the Bible study and prayer they engaged in, they seemed to care little about Christianity. Their attitude shocked Sundar, who began to wonder whether he would ever be surrounded by people who thought as he did.
Sundar was despairing over the state of things at the boarding school, when he received a letter from his father. With shaking hands he opened it and read:
My dear son, the light of my eyes, the comfort of my heart—may you live long. We are all well here and hope the same for you.… I order you to get married immediately!… Make haste and don’t disappoint us.… Does the Christian religion teach disobedience to parents?
You have gone mad! Just think for a moment who will take care of all our property! Do you want to blot out the family name? If you get engaged, I will bequeath to you all the sum of money now in the three banks (the interest of which amounts to three or four hundred rupees a month); otherwise you will lose what I have reserved for you.… It will be for your good if you come home at once.… I am not well.
The letter threw Sundar into a quandary. Yes, he had to agree, the Christian religion did teach that children should obey their parents, but it also taught that God must be honored above all else. Sundar did not know what to do.
Over the next few days, he prayed about his future. Should he stay at the boarding school or return home? The memory of Gurdit’s fate made thoughts of going home very sobering. However, as Sundar prayed about the situation, he became convinced that he should return to Rampur and live with his family once again.
Sundar was welcomed home by his father and brothers and did his best to fit in once again. But it soon became obvious that his father would not rest until Sundar renounced his Christian faith and returned to his Sikh heritage. On one occasion Sher Singh sent Sundar to visit his rich uncle. The uncle led Sundar into the basement of his house, where he had a large steel vault filled with stacks of banknotes and jewels that sparkled in the light of the oil lamp.
“I will allow you to have all of these riches if you will renounce your new faith and remain in the religion of your fathers and forefathers,” he told Sundar.
But Sundar’s mind was made up. “Thank you, Uncle,” he replied, “but I cannot accept your offer. I must follow the truth as I see it.”
With Sundar’s refusal of his uncle’s offer, persecution began again at home from his father and brothers. So when Sundar’s cousin Spuran invited him to come to Nabhu for a visit, Sundar gladly accepted the invitation.
Spuran Singh held high office in the service of the maharaja, or prince, of Nabhu State. The maharaja wielded much power and was revered by all. After Sundar had been in Nabhu two days, the maharaja called him to the palace for an audience.
Sundar was led into the magnificent palace, where the maharaja sat on an ornately carved throne. The maharaja motioned for Sundar to step forward.
“So you are Sundar Singh,” he began. “Why do you bring dishonor upon your race? Look, you wear the bracelet of a Sikh, your hair remains uncut in the fashion of the Sikhs, and you bear a Sikh name. So why is it that you do not behave like a Sikh? You are a Singh, the name your ancestors gave to you. Surely you know what it means, don’t you?”
