God understands all languages

 

Hear us, Shepherd of Israel,
you who lead Joseph like a flock.
You who sit enthroned between the cherubim,
shine forth before Ephraim, Benjamin and Manasseh.
Awaken your might;
come and save us.
Restore us, O God;
make your face shine on us,
that we may be saved.
How long, Lord God Almighty,
will your anger smolder
against the prayers of your people?
You have fed them with the bread of tears;
you have made them drink tears by the bowlful.
You have made us an object of derision to our neighbors,
and our enemies mock us.
Restore us, God Almighty;
make your face shine on us,
that we may be saved.

Let your hand rest on the man at your right hand,
the son of man you have raised up for yourself.
Then we will not turn away from you;
revive us, and we will call on your name.
Restore us, Lord God Almighty;
make your face shine on us,
that we may be saved.

Psalm 80:1-7, 17-19

 

On reading the bible

In 2013, I started reading the Bible in English while in detention on Christmas Island. I was interested to find out who Jesus is. To know him. I had so many questions. There were limited interpreters. It was so hard to communicate with people who spoke only English without anyone who could translate for me. I prayed and asked God to show me something, to show me the way.

Before I started, I knew only ‘yes’, ‘no’ and ‘how are you?’ in English and that’s about it. I requested a Persian and English Bible and slowly I worked out the numbers, what they mean: the chapter and verse. I would memorise the names of the books and then find and compare the verses in each version. I asked people questions. They tried to answer by verse and then I could find the chapter and verse in Persian and understand the context.

After nearly five months I was able to translate the bible study and Sunday services that were held in Nauru for the Iranian people. For a long time I was able to understand the concepts and preaching of the bible, but in normal conversation I was still unable to communicate easily. The whole domain of my vocabulary was bible verses. I couldn’t hold regular conversations at first.

On Prayer

I prayed nearly every night in detention before sleeping or when I was alone. I used to pray in Persian. Sometimes now I pray in English, but it’s difficult to find the exact word translation. The point is, God understands all languages.

In the airplane we took to Nauru, my wife and I were crying about the situation we were facing. One of the Serco officers was also a pastor: he took out a piece of paper, wrote Jeremiah 29:11 on it, gave it to us and said “when you land, read this”.

Reading this part of Psalm 80

This is exactly the feeling of when we were in detention. It was like God was angry with us. The officers called us by number not by name. They treated us with scorn. We were always praying “God please show yourself, please help us, please hear our prayers.” I understand the feeling of King David at that time.

Since I arrived in Australia in 2018 I kept requesting to go to church, immigration kept refusing. When I arrived in Adelaide, I sent them a letter saying:

“I ran away from my country because I wasn’t free to practice my faith. My own country made it difficult and would not let me practice my faith. I thought I am coming to a free country, I would be able to practice my faith freely. But for nine months you did not let me go to church. You keep refusing my request. Will you please explain to me: What is the difference between my government and this government?”

The next week they approved that I was able to go to church.

One thing I have learned is that you have to fight with them using their own ways. You have to use the way they engage with you to fight with them.

One of the reasons I chose the church I go to now is because they had no ideas about us, about refugees and detention. When we first went to the church there were five officers with us. No-one was allowed to talk to us, shake our hands, anything. They had never experienced this.

When people start to know you, know who you are, they can stand with you.

On the decision to use his real name

In Nauru, I spoke to journalists, I wrote letters. Because of the fear that I had, I never used my own name. I am trying to do something that will help people still in detention. Use my name. I am not going back.

I might be sent back to detention. But to be honest, if that happens, first I will publish every piece of evidence that shows we need to be here. And if anything happens to my wife, this is the responsibility of immigration, not mine.

Mehdi Nasiri is an Iranian Christian refugee who left his country because of fear of persecution. He and his wife spent seven years living in offshore detention centres before being moved in 2018 to an Australian detention centre where they are currently living today.

This devotional is the sixteenth in a series of daily email devotionals for Advent 2020. This year's series reflects on the lament of the Advent story and the hope that we share. Would you like to receive the rest of this email series?

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