A Missionary Memory…

I first met Binh Minh one Wednesday evening on the steps of our little storefront chapel in the city of Dalat. He was dressed in a long tan robe and a black jungle hat. A warm smile covering his face, he asked, “What is Baptit?” (the word “Baptist” in Vietnamese). We talked awhile, and I invited him to join us for our Wednesday evening prayer time. As we were dismissed, he asked if we had anything written about our church’s beliefs. I grabbed a small booklet from our reading room that explained the simple Gospel and what our church believed. The following Sunday morning as we arrived for church, Binh Minh stood on the steps again with the book rolled up in his hand. Pounding it into his other hand, he said, “This is the truth!” And again, as though he hadn’t made himself clear the first time, he repeated, “This is the truth!”

Later, when visiting with Binh Minh, we discovered that he was a monk from a local Catholic monastery and that he had been reading the scripture and decided that some of the Catholic teachings were not according to the Bible. For several months Binh Minh continued to come, and we would engage in long discussions about the meaning of a particular Bible doctrine. One day he announced that he wanted to be baptized and become a part of our fellowship. I told him that it was up to the church to decide, but I was sure if he presented himself, there would be no objection. He then asked one more question: “Can I continue to wear my robe and my cross?” Confused, I questioned, “What on earth for? You would no longer be a Catholic, so why wear your robe?” He explained that he would be accepted in more Catholic villages and be able to tell more Catholic people the truth of God’s Word.

Before Binh Minh presented himself to the church for baptism, our family moved to another city. But the church did accept his request, and Binh Minh in his robe and with his cross was baptized. Some of our missionary colleagues lovingly dubbed him “our Baptist friar” and referred to him as Vietnam’s Martin Luther. He did use every opportunity to visit Catholic villages and share a strong witness about salvation through Jesus Christ alone.

A couple of years went by before I met Binh Minh again. One day he appeared at our front gate—not in his robe and with his cross, but in civilian clothes. I wondered if he had had a change of heart. When I asked him where his robe was, he said the Lord burned it up. Then he recounted how he had fallen sick and gone to the hospital. While in the hospital, the hospital had come under attack, and all the patients had to flee. When they were able to return, they found the hospital had been burned to the ground, and his belongings had perished in the flames. Binh Minh took what had happened as from God.

Several months went by before Binh Minh came for another visit—this time looking gaunt. Inviting him in, I was eager to know what had happened to him. Again, he explained that at a village police station, he had been tricked into surrendering his official papers and later had been arrested by the national police and accused of being a communist spy. He was put in solitary confinement for 45 days and—according to his account—was treated like an animal. The only contacts he had with other people were two visits—one from a local Catholic official demanding that he recant and the other from a prison guard who twice daily opened his door to shove in his daily ration.

Upon hearing the account of his confinement, I began to express sympathy, saying how sorry I was that he had to suffer such things because of his faith and faithful witness. He quickly rebuffed me, “Don’t feel sorry for me! It was one of the most wonderful times I have ever experienced!” Then he related how early in his confinement he had gotten the favor of his guard who permitted him to have a small kerosene lamp and his Bible. At night, he said, he would read the Bible until his eyes were tired, then he would extinguish his light and pray until he fell asleep. He rejoiced that for 45 unbroken days, he had had virtually uninterrupted fellowship with the Lord.

I will never forget the determined faith of the Vietnamese man named Binh Minh. His willingness to suffer privation for Christ and the Gospel taught me—an American missionary—much about Christian discipleship.

A note from Margaret, wife of Jim Gayle—

This is one among many stories Jim accumulated while we served as missionaries in Vietnam (1965–1975). Before his passing in 2012, Jim often delighted our grandchildren with “Vietnam stories”—stories they could only imagine. During the years we were in Vietnam, we saw God at work in amazing ways. After the fall, Jim envisioned an even brighter future for Vietnam—a day when Vietnamese Americans would return to their homeland and bring the Gospel with them. Today, God is opening doors for the preaching of the Gospel, with the historic Franklin Graham’s Spring Love Festival in Ho Chi Minh City, where thousands of people filled a stadium and sat on nearby grass to hear the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

May the story of Binh Minh’s humble service and faithfulness to God inspire those who want to carry the baton and continue to proclaim the Good News wherever they are.

Jim Gayle (1935–2012) surrendered his life to missions during his seminary days. He served nearly 25 years in overseas missions—first in Vietnam and later in Indonesia. The last years of his life were spent developing international student ministries at universities in Dallas, Texas, through the First Chinese Baptist Church.