A Survey of Cambodia and Vietnam

by Clayton Shumpert

A lthough in 1989 the world saw the fall of Communism in Russia and Eastern Europe, Communism did not completely go away. Nations small and large still struggle mightily under the burdens imposed by former communist leaders. In 1995 God burdened my heart for Cambodia and Vietnam. To be more informed about the potential for work on these fields, and to connect with missionaries currently working there, Dr. Robert Meyer (BIMI Director for Southeast Asia) and I left for Singapore on September 3, 1996.

Singapore is home to Maranatha Baptist Church, which was established by missionary Charles Manning. During our visit, the leadership of the church was turned over to national pastor Sam Moch. (The Mannings will continue in Singapore, working with Tamil believers, who are from India.) Dr. Meyer and I were privileged to preach there.

Our next stop was Phnom Penh. Our diplomatic contact person there was Mr. Puth Chandarth, a Cambodian government official whom I met in Long Beach, California. He greeted us at the airport and took us immediately through customs and immigration. During the time we spent together I presented the gospel to Mr. Puth. He was receptive, and we left him with some gospel materials and a Cambodian Bible. He gave us his promise to help our missionaries.

Phnom Penh is the capital of the Kingdom of Cambodia. It is a city devastated by a horrendous war in which two million Cambodians were killed by their own government’s soldiers. We met with two missionary couples. Rodney and Becky Ruppel are currently in language school and conducting Bible studies as a prelude to church planting. Glenn Colley pastors the Bethel Baptist Church, which also runs a small Bible institute, the only one in Cambodia.

Dr. Meyer and I strongly desired to visit the provinces. First we visited a church that meets in the thatched-roof, bamboo home of a young couple. The simple homes on stilts are inexpensive—this one cost only about $200 to build. A reminder of recent history lay only 1/8 mile away—huge craters caused by bombs from U.S. B-52s.

After the small church meeting, we crossed the Mekong River by ferry and drove to Svay Rieng. We were near the border to Vietnam. Although the landscape was fresh, rich green, and tropical, the spiritual landscape was dry. After driving as far as we could, we walked one-half mile on paths through rice paddies. Many shy country people stared at us but did not greet us strange Americans.

We came to the home of Wreng, a 50-year-old Christian man who had attended the Bible institute in Phnom Penh. Glen Colley began this ministry in Svay Rieng. Wreng’s typical Cambodian home measured 15' by 15’, but the service was attended by 45 people inside and many others outside.

Only two people in attendance could read—Wreng and a teacher, also about 50 years of age. The teacher received his first Bible from us and began to ask all the right questions. The others listened as he asked about the person of Jesus Christ and why Jesus had to die on the cross.

Brother Meyer and I led the song service. “Jesus Love Me” and “Jesus Loves the Little Children of the World” were new to the Cambodians. As far as these dear people were concerned, we were professional singers! When we finished, I asked if they would sing to us. Their response was to laugh, not derisively but innocently. They said, “We don’t know any songs about God.” Their spiritual darkness and isolation made our hearts ache for them.

On Friday morning we drove the short distance to the Vietnamese border. The authorities did not search our baggage, which was a surprise and blessing. The communist government denies most religious freedoms to the Vietnamese, especially the freedom to witness. On the other hand, the Cambodians have much religious freedom, making it an open field crying out for missionaries.

We negotiated with a taxi driver to take us from the border to Ho Chi Minh City (formerly Saigon). The taxi driver, Wa, asked us to write a testimonial about his driving in his scrapbook to use as advertising. Robert Meyer wrote

Roses are red,
Grass is green;
I’ve never experienced a ride
Like the one in Wa’s machine.

He signed his name and added, “Jesus Saves!” Wa did drive his old blue Russian Zephyr furiously. Upon arriving in Ho Chi Minh City and getting out of the car, Brother Meyer handed Wa a gospel tract in Vietnamese. We were in front of a government-owned hotel at that moment. Several months ago a Church of God woman gave out a tract there; she was fined $5,000 and deported.

This was our first experience with religious oppression in Vietnam. The second and following were soon to come. A secret meeting had been arranged with pastors of two underground churches. Both had been arrested—and one imprisoned—for preaching. They are marked men. We cannot mention the names of the Americans with whom we met. They are studying the language at Ho Chi Minh University and carefully doing mission work. We attended the Sunday morning service of Grace Baptist Church, which began at 6:30 a.m. Up to now the government has tolerated this Bible-preaching church. The pastor, a faithful older Vietnamese man whose health is breaking, communicated his pleas for Christian workers in Vietnam. Three hundred people attended the service. This oasis of Christianity reminded me of the song, “Jesus is a Rock in a Weary Land.”

God permitted us to get Bibles to the people of Cambodia and Vietnam. I wish to thank everyone who contributed to this project. We prayed over the cases of Bibles in Cambodia, and we expect to see “fruit to your account.” It will be a long, long time before I forget that group of Cambodians saying, “We don’t know any songs about God.”