A Voice from the Front Lines
Monday’s Compass | The Dust of the Rabbi | April 13, 2026
I have a friend in Nigeria.
He’s a man of faith, a leader in the Christian church. For years, when I was in Nigeria, he was my translator. And over time, he became more than that, much more: a partner in mission, a friend, a pastor, a brother, a man whom I love.
He is right now on the front lines of a difficult mission, appointed deputy chairman of a Christian organization charged with caring for those who have been displaced by violence and persecution. I am not using his name. I am not using the name of his region. This is not editorial caution. This is safety.
He wrote to me this week. I want you to hear him.
“We are overwhelmed by the number of people killed and displaced from their ancestral homes. The issue of attacks is now like a daily affair. The government is not supporting us. We are trying to see how we can encourage people to stand firm in their faith.”
You are hearing a lot right now about Iran. So am I. It is filling the airwaves and the feeds and the conversations of people across the political spectrum. I understand that. Iran is a serious matter, and reasonable people hold strong and competing views about it.
But I need to say something that almost no one is saying.
While we are consumed with Iran, radical Islamic terrorists in Nigeria are systematically targeting, displacing, and slaughtering Christians in a campaign that appears aimed at nothing less than wiping Christianity out of Nigeria entirely. Villages are being emptied. Families are being killed. And the Western church, by and large, is silent. Not troubled. Not debating. Silent.
I want to be precise here, because precision matters. What is happening in Nigeria is not ethnic conflict that happens to involve religious communities. It is not complicated tribal tension that resists easy description. Radical Islamic terrorists are targeting Christian communities with the stated aim of eradicating Christianity from the region. I am saying this plainly because it is plainly true. If a Christian militia were systematically slaughtering Muslim villages, I would say that just as plainly, and no one would ask me to soften it. The same standard applies here. Naming a thing accurately is not bigotry. Refusing to name it is not virtue. It is equal parts bias and cowardice. Both have consequences.
There is no shortage of hand-wringing about the places that have become politically convenient to care about. Nigeria has not become convenient. So Nigeria does not trend. So Nigeria does not get mentioned in your Sunday service or your small group or your denomination’s prayer bulletin. The Christians dying there are paying the price for our selective outrage.
My friend is not silent. He is in it.
He wrote something we need to hear. Some believers, exhausted and bereaved and watching their neighbors be killed, are beginning to wonder if they made a mistake in converting to Christian faith. They left traditional worship. They gave their lives to Christ. And now a terrible voice is whispering: maybe the old gods protected us better.
This is not a political crisis being dressed up as a spiritual one. This is faith under fire in its rawest form, and it is happening this week to people who sing the same hymns you sing.
And then he wrote more, something that takes my breath away. In the middle of the killing and the displacement and the grief, unbelievers are coming to Christ in spite of what might likely happen to them.
That is what happens when the dust of the Rabbi gets on you and you refuse to brush it off.
My friend has asked for prayer. Not vaguely. He gave a list.
That God will bring a stop to the killings.
That Christians will stand firm in the face of persecution.
That leaders will be given what it takes to help the victims.
That the government will be sincere in addressing this crisis.
That God will use this tragedy for his own glory.
That those who have lost loved ones and homes will find their comfort in Christ.
Pray this week. All week. I’ll remind us every day this week.
He didn’t know I was going to write this. But I think he’d understand.
This is what following in the dust of the Rabbi costs in some parts of the world. Not inconvenience. Not social awkwardness. Not a hard conversation at Thanksgiving. Life. Family. Home. And for some, their very faith.
My friend is still there. Still walking among the displaced and the grieving and the nearly-faithless. Covered in that dust. Not going anywhere.
Pray for him and his wife and his children this week. He is carrying more than you know.
Subscribe to The Compass. Share this post with your church, your pastor, your small group. If this kind of formation matters to you, become a paid subscriber and go deeper with us every month.
Thank you so much for giving an update on what’s happening and exactly what to pray for concerning our Nigerian brothers and sisters in Christ Jesus! I’ll continue to pray 🙏
Tho small our congregation has been praying for the Nigerian Christian.
Thank you for these prayer points. We will use them for our targeted prayer moving forward. If you are able to respond to your friend, please let him know there is a gathering of people who are praying for them daily.
I will forward this email on to our group.
“The prayer of a righteous person has great power as it is working.” James 5:16 ESV