Sergei Kourdakov -- 6
The Power of Prayer
~ More from the Life of Sergei Kourdakov ~
Sergei Kourdakov's job was to inflict terror and suffering on Christians and he did it well. Orphaned at the age of 4, he was raised by the state and had believed wholeheartedly in the only religion he knew, Communism. But, as you have read in the articles of the past couple months, Sergei's belief system was being shattered by his experiences with the very people he was ordered to destroy. However, he could find nothing satisfactory to fill the emptiness he was feeling inside.
Sergei knew that he could not continue the way of life that he was in. Something was driving and compelling him, but to what. . . and where would he go? He realized for the first time just how much he was a prisoner in Communist Russia. This much he knew: there was something beyond this "prison" that he found himself in and the only way to find it was to escape Russia. He began to consider his options.
Meanwhile, the commander at the police station continued to pressure Sergei to go out on more raids. One evening Sergei and his men were called in for a special meeting about a very important raid they were to conduct. Spies had told them that the Believers were going to hold a two-hour prayer meeting before their regular meeting at a new secret location. The police and KGB were very interested in what the Believers were praying about. They were suspicious that this was really covering up plans to overthrow the government and wanted to study the content of the prayers.
Sergei's men were instructed to secretly record these prayers so they could be sent to Moscow to be reviewed by the KGB. Once they were sure they had the "prayers" on tape, they were to burst inside and attack the Believers.
Yuri was chosen to creep quietly up to one of the windows to record the sounds of the Believers praying. After he had recorded over ninety minutes, Sergei gave the order to charge into the building. They had caught this group completely by surprise.
Screams filled the air as the squad went to work, using their clubs and fists on the Believers and ripping apart any Bibles they found. Sergei even reduced his club to its shortest length so that it could be used most effectively in the small room.
Sergei noticed a woman over in the corner, cowering in fear, mumbling what must be a prayer. He could not hear what she was saying because of all the noise. The idea of her still praying made all the confusion and turmoil Sergei was feeling boil to the surface. He moved towards her with his club raised. Seeing Sergei poised to strike her head, the woman prayed even louder. Sergei paused a moment, curious about what she was saying. What happened next is taken from Sergei's book, The Persecutor, which is no longer in print.
"As my arm was raised, I heard her words: 'God, forgive this young man. Show him the true Way. Open his eyes and help him, dear God'
"I was stunned. Why doesn't she ask help for herself instead of me? She's the one about to be finished off. I was angered that she, a nobody, would be praying for me, a leader of the Communist Youth League! In a flash of rage, I gripped my club tighter and prepared to smash it against her head. I was going to hit her with all my might, enough to kill her. I started to swing. Then the strangest thing happened. Someone grabbed my wrist and jerked it back. I was startled. It was hurting. It was not imaginary. It was a real squeezing on my wrist until it actually pained. I thought it was a Believer, and I turned around to hit him. But there was no one there!
"I looked back. Nobody could have grabbed my arm.
And yet, somebody had grabbed me! I still felt the pain. I stood
there in shock. The blood rushed to my head. I felt hot as fright
swept over me. This was beyond me. It was confusing, unreal. Then
I forgot everything. Dropping my club, I ran out, with the blood
rushing to my head and a hot, flushed feeling in my face. Tears
began flowing down my cheeks. I was too tough to cry, I thought.
Crying was a sign of weakness. But now, as I ran from that nightmare
scene, I was crying! I was bewildered, lost. I ran and walked,
then ran some more, not remembering a thing. Hours passed. I can't
recall anything beyond running and crying. But when I came to
myself, it was dark."
~ continued ~
(Taken from his autobiography, The Persecutor, which is no longer in print.)