Stopping a Murder
[Adventures in Faith: Japan; 1991] Tom and I witnessed an old man being beaten to death. We stood between the murder and his victim.
Since waking up, the shelter for homeless people was on our minds. We decided to go there and see what was happening.
As we walked the streets of Kamagasaki, we saw a small park to our left. It was the size of a tennis court. All it offered was a dirt surface and tall wire fencing that enclosed it.
It was filled with loud men.
I hoped they didn’t see us. Otherwise, they might get interested in us, and delay us from getting to our destination.
Two blocks from the shelter, we heard shouting. And gasping. And a bottle breaking.
We rushed ahead. Soon we saw a niche in the corner of a building to our left. Two men were standing there.
One was an old man. He was weak and frightened. His arms were raised, as if trying to protect himself.
Opposing this old man was a bully. The bully was young and strong. The redness of his ears told us he was drunk.
He had a big liquor bottle in his hand. There were lots of other bottles lying about in the niche. Some were broken, and others were not yet broken.
The bully had worked himself into a rage. He was using big liquor bottles to torture the old man to death. It was a murder in-progress.
Tom and I looked at each other.
From our recent emergency retreat, we knew what God had called us to do. If we encountered a violent beating or murder, we were to interpose.
We had no guns or tasers. We had no mace or pepper spray. We had no night sticks or baseball bats. We had no skills in the fighting arts.
All we had was faith.
But to us, faith is mightier than weapons or skills in the fighting arts.
We believed God had called us to stand between the murder and his victim, using our own bodies as barricades.
At the emergency retreat, we had counted the costs. We had resolved to do it, no matter what happened.
Today was my designated day to interpose. It was Tom’s designated day to shout commands. We alternated those assignments each day.
In an instant, we said a brief prayer, committing ourselves in love to the Lord Jesus Christ once more. And then we moved.
Quickly.
We rushed to the scene together. Even while the bully was using a heavy liquor bottle to wail away at the old man, I interposed.
I stepped in-between them.
The bully kept swinging. But now, instead of his rage bludgeoning the old man to death, I was the one to take his blows.
By God’s grace, I didn’t step aside. By God’s grace, I didn’t collapse. By God’s grace, I stood there and took it.
I had become a human shield for this homeless old man I’d never met.
Meanwhile, as I stepped in-between the bully and his victim, Tom stepped right up to the bully.
Into the bully’s right ear, Tom shouted, “Stop! Stop! Stop!” Tom shouted it over and over and over.
I have no idea how long it lasted. Seconds? Minutes?
Then the bully stopped.
The bully stopped!
Tom called the bully “Ni-chan,” which means “elder brother.” In Kamagasaki, it was a term of endearment.
Tom thanked him for stopping, took him by the shoulder and walked him away.
As soon as he could, Tom returned to the old man and me.
We picked up the old man. We carried him to the Catholic shelter that had been our original destination.
We knocked on the door. Soon, the door opened and a familiar face appeared. The staff member greeted us, saw the old man, and gestured for us to bring him in.
At that moment, the old man was bleeding profusely. He was scarcely breathing.
The staff member assured us he would call the ambulance and care for the old man. The staff member indicated that we could leave.
As we walked away from the shelter, adrenalin wascoursing through our bodies.
But neither Tom nor I were in pain. We had no bruises. We had no lacerations.
How was that?
As for myself, I’m not strong or tough at all. For most of my life, I’ve been sickly and weak.
The blows from the heavy liquor bottles should have hurt me very badly, like they did the old man.
The denim jacket and T-shirt I was wearing could not have protected me much at all.
But I had no cuts. I had no bruising. I was in no pain.
Not at all.
I believe I was given an outpouring of grace. I believe God supernaturally protected me. I believe God armed me with strength for battle (see Psalm 18:39).
Even now, decades later, I consider it a miracle.
By God’s grace, after the emergency retreat, we had acted upon the leading of the Holy Spirit.
We had returned to the most violent place in Japan.
We were confronted with the same thing that had driven us away before: that murder in Triangle Park.
By God’s grace, we overcame our fears. We stood toe-to-toe with a murder as it was happening.
We stopped the murder. We saved a life.
We got the victim to a safe haven and arranged for his much-needed care.
And to stop the ultimate act of violence, we used no violence whatsoever.
ADVENTURES IN FAITH
NOTE. Names, dates, and locations may have been changed.
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