From revolution to refuge
“You get one pass at life. That’s all. Only one. And the lasting measure of that life is Jesus Christ.”
John Piper
I was born into a small family in 1960. My close relatives were living modern, progressive lifestyles for that period in Iran, as office workers and lawyers, rather than working in traditional roles in the bazaars or as self-employed traders. One or two members of my family held good positions in the judicial system, and our status in society was well above average. It was a relatively rare situation for 1960s Iran.
Our lifestyle conformed very generally to the rules of Islam although faith did not really play a central role in everyday events. My mother was more religious than my father, but she never tried to force me to do anything if I was not willing to. She waited for me to make a decision for myself to go further into my faith.
At the same time, my parents were open-minded and accepting of people who adhered to other religious beliefs. There was a Protestant Armenian church just behind our house and a lot of Christian families lived in our neighbourhood. My mother had close friendships with several of the Armenian women and they would talk with her about Jesus and how they believed that He had died to forgive their sins. Many of the children of those Christian families were my classmates and friends at school.
Under the pre-revolutionary regime in Iran, religion was generally seen as a positive force in society. There was a lot of mutual appreciation between people of all faiths, whether Muslims, Christians, Jews, Zoroastrians or Baha’is. Attitudes were open, tolerant and respectful, and friendship and hospitality were not restricted by religious difference. I became familiar myself with Christian beliefs through the neighbours and friends who socialised with us and visited our home. I even attended the public church and house churches on a number of occasions.
When the Islamic revolution took place in Iran in 1978 and 1979, there was a general feeling of hope for a better future for the country. I was at the age when I was just leaving school, a time in life when feelings were strong about how life should be. Other young people my age were enthusiastic about the revolution, believing that they were fighting for a better world. However, as the years went by, the restrictions that were soon imposed by the radical Islamic leaders, and the curtailments of freedom, especially for women, resulted in a rapid downturn in the mood of most people. There were no more female ministers in the government to make a stand for women’s rights, and there was a general perception that changes in all areas of life were negative.
The universities were closed for four years after the revolution, and I was unable to study for a degree immediately. I later entered an education university and trained as a teacher. On graduating, I volunteered to go to work in a poor rural area. Anywhere outside of the big cities at that time in Iran was very backward and deprived and I hoped to be part of a positive move for progress and development. I got married in the 1990s, and our son was born two years later.
Life was not what I had hoped it would be, however. While I believed that I was doing a good service in supporting rural communities, I found that my work was really not in any way a priority or even a concern of the government. There was a real conflict between what I had expected to be doing, and what I was really able to do in practice. I got involved in some protest movements against the policies that the government was trying to push forward. After some years of frustration and opposition, I was eventually forced to retire early.
I had started out in my professional career with high ideals about what I hoped to achieve in serving my country and improving the lot of the less advantaged, but those ideals had been taken away from me. All the things I had hoped for and dreamed about for my life were unfulfilled and I felt a deep dissatisfaction with my situation. Because of ongoing conflict between myself and some government officials, even after my retirement, I decided to seek out a tourist visa to travel to London. Initially, I intended just to spend some time travelling in order to have a break from the situation at home. However, on returning to Iran, more pressure was put on me and I had a real sense that I was being persecuted. Some friends and I talked together and agreed that the time had probably come for us to leave the country for good. Things were very unlikely to get any better for us. We were not able to work to support our families, and we were not going to be left in peace. We feared that the next step would be imprisonment. I decided to use my remaining visa permission to come back to the UK and to attempt to claim asylum.
After one week in London I was sent to another city for my claim to be processed, along with one of my close friends. I was accommodated in a hotel for asylum seekers. I had very little to do to occupy my time, and my thoughts were constantly with my family, including my wife and son, who couldn’t join me, and the condition that they were in now that I had left. I worried about whether they were able to cope without me. One evening, as I was spending time with my friend and some others from the Iranian community, we saw a younger Iranian man arrive to collect a small group from the hotel to take them somewhere. I inquired about who he was and what it was all about. I was told that they were going to attend a church where this group of Iranian asylum seekers were welcomed in, and the service was translated into Farsi. I was yearning for some hope and peace at that time, and some reassurance about my future. My previous experience of attending church with Christian friends in Iran had shown me that it was possible to speak to God in prayer with confidence and familiarity. I thought that maybe in the church I would also be able to speak to God in such a way and ask for His help and comfort.
The next time the man arrived at the hotel I asked to be introduced. I asked if I would be allowed to attend the church, and I was given a warm welcome. I continued to attend every week and as the months went by, I gradually came to understand more and more about the message of salvation through the death of Jesus Christ. As I listened to the preaching week by week, my heart was touched and softened. I found comfort in believing that all of my life and every circumstance was in God’s hands. I was given a Farsi Bible of my own to read.
One of the elders of the church took an interest in me and used to meet with me to teach me English and to explain some passages from the Bible. He gave me a children’s book written in simple English that I could read and study at home. As time went by, I came to realise that there was a supernatural power present in the church and among the Christian people I was meeting. I observed the way that they lived; I saw how they treated each other – and outsiders who were welcomed in – with love, compassion and kindness. This was not something natural to most ordinary people I had known. I understood that there was a spiritual reality that was completely alien to the life I had lived before, but which was now becoming part of my own experience as I turned to God from my sins and gave my life to Jesus.
My wife and son have now been able to join me in the UK and we all attend the church together most Sundays. God has been good to me and has answered my prayers. Through the years that I spent here alone, God taught me to trust and to not lose hope. I pray for my family, that they too will come to know the peace that passes all understanding through faith in Jesus Christ.
I have not achieved great things in my life in a worldly sense. I never fulfilled my hopes and ambitions. But in the end, all that matters is being in a right relationship with God. Colossians 3:1-3 speaks to me about what my priorities should be in life:
If then you were raised with Christ, seek those things which are above, where Christ is, sitting at the right hand of God. Set your mind on things above, not on things on the earth. For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God.
Colossians 3:1-3 NKJV
Persian Voices 