Nibbe Sermon: The sweet little girl on the platform

The Rev. Thomas Nibbe/Holy Cross Lutheran Church

CROSSOVERTHE TIME: “THE PARTITION”
“No Man’s Land” – August 14, 1947  

[…a railroad station somewhere on the newly established border between India and Pakistan,  near Amritzer and outside Lahore…]
On this day, August 14, 1947, fifteen million people left their homes and crossed a common border, to choose either Indian or Pakistani citizenship and  seek a home in a new land.  As millions crossed over a new border, great violence broke out—a build-up of centuries of animosity and hatred.  Hindus and Sikhs went after Muslims, and Muslims attacked Hindus and Sikhs.  In the mix were hundreds of thousands of Christians caught tragically in the horrible mayhem.  The result was perhaps the greatest outright violent slaughter – by crude knives and other impromptu weapons – of human beings in history.

ON THE TRAIN PLATFORM OUTSIDE OF AMRITZER The Sikh men, engrossed by all the killing, thought the family crossing the border were Muslims.  After all, they had a Muslim name, Najmuddin, and they were trying to leave Hindustan, for Muslim Pakistan, and therefore, in their view, they deserved to die.  So sad, though, to think there was a need to kill a mother with four small children, a little boy and three little girls.  They seemed so sweet and innocent.  (The family in Dehli had bought a new pair of shoes for little Lily.)  A man took her little shoes off her feet and put them into his sack.  She broke down in tears.  Her crying seemed to be one desperate sound of many in the confusion all around them on that railroad platform.  It was a killing field.

The tall Sikh unsheathed his large knife to slit little 

Pisho’s throat.  One would seem to reflect that it would 

be unthinkable that he could slaughter a little innocent 

being like this sweet little girl.  At that point, Mom could 

stand no more.  She had an intense severe emotional 

breakdown.  As this happened, the men stripped her of 

her gold jewelry, tearing it from her ears, neck and wrists.  

It was a hellish living nightmare.  Too much for any human 

being to stand, especially a mother with four small children

…and alone…  For a moment, imagine what it would feel

like for Mom…caught in the worst moment imaginable…

A TRAGEDY WAS ABOUT TO TAKE PLACE 

Knives were unsheathed.  

The Sikhs discovered Mom’s suitcase.  It was opened up 

and the clothes were thrown this way and that, scattered 

on the platform with the clothing of thousands of others.

One of the younger men, who could read Urdu, discovered

a book—indeed—a family Bible wrapped in a cloth inside

the suitcase.  In the Bible were the names of the members 

of this family, Francis, Millicent, Jane, Asher, Priscilla (Pisho) 

and Lily (Ishie).

The young Sikh raised his voice, just in time, to shout out,

“…these people are not Muslims, though they have a Muslim

name…they are Christians…it is obvious…this is a Christian

Holy Book…their names are entered in the book…”[I have that Bible in my bookshelf downstairs.]

The big Sikh set his knife down…poured a glass of precious

cool water in a cup…picked Pisho up…and helped her to drink

as he set her on his lap…the temperature was in the 100s F…

One minute he was about to slit her throat and the next

minute he was helping her to drink cool water from a cup…

what an unforgettable moment…

The family Bible saved the lives of Mom and the four

children, who have been my family for fifty-four years.

(In 1968, I married Pisho [Priscilla] in New York City.)

THIS ENDS THE FIRST PART OF THE STORY

This the second part of the story which applies to

both the first part of the story and the words of 

Jesus in Luke 12:49-56 follows…

Mohammad Sheik Najmuddin was the son of an

extremely wealthy landowner in the Sindh, now in 

Pakistan, located in the Great Thar desert, a distance

from Karachi.  He wore a turban, and loose cotton

clothing, with beard and moustache, he looked majestic

on a camel, reminding me of Omar Sharif in the classic

film, “Lawrence of Arabia”…I have a photograph from

this time in his life.

After memorizing the Holy Quran at the age of thirteen,

Mohammad asked his father if that was all there was to

religion.  This troubled his father.  Upon reading an Urdu

copy of the New Testament, he became convinced that

Jesus Christ was, indeed, the Son of God, with the

authority to forgive sin, as a result of His sacrifice on the

cross of Calvary.  He would not recant.  He had to leave

his family and basically hide from them, lest they kill

him for departing from Islam.  Twenty years passed.

The verse from Luke 12:53 certainly comes to mind:

“…they will be divided…father against son and son

against father…”

Also (Luke 12:51):

“…Do you think I came to bring peace on earth?

No, I tell you, but division…”

He took the name, “Francis”.  Despite attempts of

his family to take his life, he remained faithful in his

walk with Christ Jesus.  He traveled from town to

town, from countryside to countryside, from one

province to the next, all over old India, (since this

was years prior to the Partition in 19470.  He would

preach from the Bible and in return local people

everywhere he went would provide shelter and food,

and perhaps some money to carry on the ministry.

The Lord put “a hedge of protection” around Francis

in these years.  He became known throughout all

of India as an excellent Bible teacher and preacher.

At one point, I know not when or where, Francis met 

Millicent Daniels, a Christian woman from U.P., and the

two were married and eventually had four children.

Along the years, he was in charge of a penal colony

in South India.  Time passed…years passed by.  

On one key occasion, some British people heard him 

preach in English and encouraged him to go off to 

England to study at Cambridge and become ordained.  

This is what happened.  When he was in England, the Partition took place, and he was stuck there.  He worried about his family, and that concern was indeed justified. He was helpless to be there to comfort and to save. However, the Lord was with his family and they survived.
After the time he returned, he was the most popular pastor in Pakistan, and he remained that way.  After almost a century, people still talk about him with respect and love.In the history of Pakistan, I would feel safe to say he is considered the greatest of Pakistani Christian leaders.
In later years, something extraordinary happened.  When I was a missionary in Pakistan I had heard about a Muslim religious figure by the name of Sufi Ramsan Buksh.  A huge mosque was 

built in his honor after his death outside of 

Karachi. To this day he is remembered and highly revered.
As I learned, Sufi Ramsan Buksh turned out to be one of Francis’ real 

brothers.  The two of them decided to 

meet and make peace with each other…when I heard 

about this meeting I just simply rejoiced at the thought 

of the two being reunited in respect for each other…one 

the South Asian leader of one great 

faith…and the other…

also the South Asian leader of another great faith. 

The reason I’m sharing this with all of you is simple.

Today is exactly the seventy-fifth year and the very 

same day that what happening on the train platform 

took place.  

How different my life would have been had that 

Bible in Mom’s suitcase not been found.  I would’ve 

never of course met Priscilla.  I wouldn’t have known 

and ever shared my life with my wonderful three 

daughters, and my granddaughter.  I am astounded 

how these years have just seemed to have breezed 

right on by.  This event took place seventy-five years 

ago when Priscilla was only four years old.

Cordially,

Tom

Addendum:

Priscilla (Pisho) and I have been married now

fifty-three years.  I have served Christ in the

same – Church of Pakistan – Francis served so

faithfully.  Priscilla has done a wonderful job raising 

our three extraordinary daughters, Dr. Ayesha Anne 

(Anthropologist), Dr. Yasmin Karin (Physician), 

and Shama Aasa (Business), married to (in order) 

Attorney David Henkin, Contractor Marcus Hogle, 

and Drummer Rock Star Tim 

Alexander.  The Alexanders have given us our granddaughter,

Elliot, who is now eleven years old.  We are

grateful for our extended Pakistani relatives

now in Atlanta: Julian, Lily, Googi, and Sara.

Also, Asher in Buffalo.  Jane passed away

several years ago, while a professor at Emory.