Sundar was totally surprised by the turn of events and could hardly wait to get the Hindu holy man aside and talk to him in private. When they finally were alone together, the holy man explained to Sundar that although from all appearances he looked like a devout Hindu, he was, in fact, a Christian. He belonged to a group of Christians called the Sannyasi, who did not openly declare their faith but rather lived as Hindus and privately shared the gospel with other Hindus when the opportunity arose. They even had their own churches, but these were disguised on the outside as Hindu shrines. Inside, though, were none of the Hindu idols that usually populated such shrines. But neither were there crosses or other Christian symbols to give away what the shrine was actually used for. In their disguised shrines, the Sannyasi practiced the Christian rites of baptism and Holy Communion.
As Sundar sat and listened to the holy man explain the ways of the Sannyasi to him, he was amazed, not only that they had been able to keep their group a secret right in the midst of the Hindu faith but also that a lot more Christian sadhus were in India than he had at first thought.
When Sundar finally left Benares and traveled on, he thought a lot about the Sannyasi. He admired and accepted the expression of their faith, yet at the same time he realized that being a secret believer was not the path for him. He had been called to publicly declare the gospel wherever he went, even across the Himalayan Mountains in Tibet.
Chapter 9
“You Are Alive!”
In late spring 1912 it was time for Sundar to set out for Tibet once again. This time he decided to follow a trail over the Kailas Range farther to the east from his previous crossing of the Himalayas. This region was where the Hindu gods were said to reside, and many Hindu hermits lived in caves amid the mountains. Many nomadic bands of robbers also wandered through the area, attacking and robbing Hindu pilgrims and Tibetan caravans. But walking barefoot and carrying only his blanket, Sundar must have seemed an uninviting target to them, and no robbers attacked him as he made his way past Lake Mansarovar. The lake was surrounded by mountain peaks, wild swans swarmed over the lake surface, and many crumbling Buddhist temples dotted the shoreline. After he had passed the lake, Sundar began the arduous climb up and over the mountain range. Eventually he crossed the main ridge and descended into Tibet.
After leaving the Kailas Range behind him, Sundar walked for many miles before he came upon a small village. He tried to talk to the people who lived in the village, but when they realized he was a Christian, they grew hostile. So even though his bare feet were bleeding by now, Sundar decided to walk on until sunset. He asked which way he should go, and an old woman pointed to the southwest toward a high mountain pass. Sundar trudged off in the direction she had pointed.
It was bitterly cold, but Sundar pressed on, reciting chapters of the Gospel of John to himself as a way of encouragement. After about two hours of walking, he realized that he had been tricked. This was not the way to anywhere. The trail ended at the bank of a swiftly moving river. The water was icy cold, and there was no way for Sundar to cross it.
Suddenly the enormity of what he was doing overcame Sundar. He sat on a rock beside the river and cried with despair. It seemed that no one wanted to listen to him, no one would help him, and no one would care if he died and his body was washed downstream.
A few minutes later he wiped his eyes and glanced across the river. On the other side was a man warming himself by a fire. This made Sundar feel worse. Now he was within sight of warmth and comfort but had no way of reaching it.
Sundar watched transfixed as the man stood up and walked toward the river. Then, without even slowing his step, the man waded into the current, first up to his knees, then to his waist, and finally to his shoulders. Within a minute he was standing in front of Sundar.
“Sit on my shoulders and do not fear,” the man said, reaching down to grab Sundar by the hand.
A great sense of calm came over Sundar, who did what the man asked. The man was very strong, and once Sundar was seated on his shoulders, he did not hesitate as he reentered the icy water. He carried Sundar to the other side and gently put him down. Sundar shut his eyes for a brief moment of thankful prayer. When he opened his eyes, the man was gone. There were only rocks within one hundred yards of the river, and they provided no place for the man to have disappeared to. Nonetheless, the man was nowhere to be seen.
Sundar sat with his mouth open, wondering what had just happened to the man. He waited, but the man did not reappear. Eventually Sundar continued on his way, thanking God that He had not forgotten about him after all.
The reception Sundar received at the next village and the one after that was also hostile. Sundar decided that his reputation was spreading throughout the region. This belief was reinforced when villagers began hurling insults and rocks at him before he even started to preach.
Finally Sundar reached the village of Rasar, located on a high plateau. As was his custom, he made his way to the marketplace, where he began to preach. A crowd soon gathered, and much to his surprise, they listened attentively. Indeed, some of the people asked questions about what he was saying and seemed satisfied with his answers. Then, to Sundar’s surprise, the mood of the crowd suddenly changed. Many people walked away while others began to yell abuse at him.
Sundar soon discovered what had changed the demeanor of the crowd—servants of the region’s grand lama were stirring them up. Once the people learned that the grand lama was unhappy with Sundar and his preaching, they lost all interest in what he had to say. Moments later the crowd that was left separated as the monastery guard marched forward and arrested Sundar. Rough hands dragged him off, and he was taken before the grand lama.
“It is against the law to teach a foreign religion in Tibet. You have been caught in the very act of doing that,” the lama snarled. “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“No,” Sundar replied. There was no point in pleading innocence. As the lama had already pointed out, he had been caught red-handed preaching the gospel.
“Very well, your punishment is death,” the grand lama announced.
As he was led away, Sundar wondered about his fate. Was he to be sewn inside a wet yak skin like Kartar Singh and left to be crushed to death, or did some other fate await him?
Sundar soon discovered that the Tibetans had other creative ways of slowly killing people. He was dragged to the edge of town, where there was an abandoned well. A key was turned in the lock that kept the cover over the well in place, and the cover was pulled back. Sundar was then hurled down the dry well shaft. He landed with a painful thud at the bottom and watched as above him the cover was pulled back into place and locked down.
The air at the bottom of the well was putrid, and Sundar gagged as he breathed it. As he felt around him in the dark, he learned why the air smelled so bad. He was not the first person to be thrown into the well to die. Everywhere around him were human bones and rotting flesh, all that remained of the previous victims. Sundar soon discovered that he could not move without brushing against human remains, and he began to despair. As he stood in the bottom of the putrid well, Sundar found himself wishing for the wet yak skin that had slowly crushed Kartar to death. Kartar’s death out in the fresh air suddenly seemed to him a better way to die.
Sundar leaned against the side of the well and tried to pray, but he felt like his prayers were not even making it out of the well. Desperation and loneliness washed over him, and he wished for a quick death. But his wish did not come true, and by his third night at the bottom of the well, Sundar was so weak he could barely move. He knew that he had only a short time left to live, and he welcomed the approaching hour of his deliverance from his hellish surroundings.
Then above him Sundar suddenly heard a clinking and a rustle. It sounded like the lock on the cover over the well was being undone, and then he heard a shuffle. Someone was sliding the cover off the well. Or was he? Sundar wondered whether his weary mind was hallucinating. And was that really moonlight streaming into the well? Suddenly a rope with a loop on the bottom was being lowered into the well. Was it real? Sundar reached his weak and shaking hand out and felt for it. It was real. Mustering all his strength and concentration, Sundar put one of his legs through the loop and wrapped his arms around the rope. Moments later he felt himself being pulled up out of the well.
Sundar gasped in lungfuls of fresh air as he collapsed onto the ground. In his semiconscious state, he heard the cover being pulled back into place and the lock being snapped shut. He turned to see who had rescued him from the well, but nobody was around. Whoever rescued him had disappeared into the darkness.
The fresh air felt and tasted wonderful to Sundar as he lay there, but he knew he would soon be noticed. He stumbled to his feet and staggered off into the night, guided by the light of the full moon that shone above. Finally he found some bushes near a stream and crawled behind them and fell asleep. When he awoke, the sun was high in the sky and baking down on him. It felt so warm and good.
Sundar lay in the sun awhile longer, feeling his strength return before making his way to the stream, where he washed himself and his robe and turban. As he sat waiting for his clothes to dry in the sun, he prayed and thanked God for sending someone to rescue him from the well. He wondered what he should do next. His first inclination was to get away from Rasar as fast as possible. But the more he thought about it, the more he became convinced that that was not what God wanted him to do. It was too good of an opportunity to miss. So Sundar pulled on his robe and turban and headed back into Rasar.
The people in the marketplace were wide-eyed when Sundar began preaching there again. As far as they knew, Sundar was dead. How could he now be preaching to them once more? News traveled fast, and it was not long before the monastery guard came and arrested Sundar once again.
“How can this be?” the grand lama stormed. “You were thrown down the well and left for dead. Who rescued you? Who is the traitor among us?”
Sundar tried to explain his rescue, but he had been so weak and semiconscious that he had not even noticed who it was that rescued him.
The grand lama was determined to get to the bottom of the matter. If there was a traitor in their midst, then, he declared, he was going to find him. That was when one of the lama’s officials stepped forward and pointed out that there was only one key to the lock on the well cover, and that key was still clipped to the lama’s belt.
The grand lama suddenly looked alarmed, and Sundar thought he noticed terror in the man’s eyes. The grand lama abruptly stopped questioning Sundar.
“Get out of Rasar,” the grand lama ordered Sundar, “and never return here lest the power that protects you bring disaster on us.”
Sundar left the grand lama’s presence and walked out of Rasar, sure that his return to the town had had a profound effect upon both the grand lama and the people of the town.
From Rasar, Sundar wandered on from village to village preaching the gospel. But soon it was fall and time for him to return across the mountains to India before the winter snow closed the way.
Back in India, Sundar kept busy visiting villages around the north and north-central regions of the country. The work was exhausting, but he kept at it. At the same time Sundar read and reread the Gospels, and as he did so, the more he felt God was calling him to fast as Jesus had done after His baptism.
Sundar remembered a forest at Kajiliban where he had spent time in the past. It was a lonely place located along the banks of the Ganges River between Dehra Dun and Haridwar, and Sundar decided that it would be a perfect place to fast. He climbed aboard a train for the long trip to the forest. The train was overcrowded as usual, with the people who could not get inside the carriages sitting on top of them or clinging to the sides as they rolled along.
