I was totally unaware of what was happening. However the day was unforgettable for me also, but for very different reasons. This is not said to diminish the significance of what the Liverpool football supporters went through. But different events hold different significance for all of us.
I was that day in Prague. I had arrived the previous day, having flown in to Rusyne Airport, and was on my way to try to visit friends who I had met once before. They were Christians, and their lives were under constant threat from the communist authorities who believed the church to be a major threat to the wellbeing of the country. My purpose in going was to encourage them in their witness, as well as trying to take in some things which could be of use to them – some bible commentaries and books, as well as some medical drugs which were difficult for them to get hold of.
When I arrived, I was glad to get past the security at the airport, and look for a hotel to stay for the few days that I would be there. I could not stay with the Christians, as they would have to report to the authorities, and so would be under suspicion for harbouring a western foreigner. I turned up at a hotel not normally used by westerners – they were much more expensive. After some bartering I got a room for a reasonable cost (about a tenth of the original fee they asked of me) by paying in “English money”. I went to my room, and rested on the bed. Within five minutes the receptionist knocked on my door, and informed me that there had been a mistake with my visa. They had failed to stamp it at the airport. Upon asking if I needed to go back there, she replied quietly that they would call in the police. If they wanted me they would come for me in the morning.
I immediately took the material that I had brought with me to take it all to my friends. I reached their flat in the centre of the city, but there was no answer. I turned to leave, and saw that their flat was being watched. I went for a walk for an hour – not difficult in such a beautiful city. When I returned, I saw that he light was on in the flat, but it was still being watched. If I went there now, I could be putting my friends in danger. They could find themselves in prison, and their ability to work for the church removed. So I had no choice but to return to my hotel room, to wait for the authorities.
Needless to say I had a sleepless night, waiting for the knock on the door. All I heard was some drunk East Germans attempting to get into my room by mistake, as they had forgotten which was theirs. In the morning my visa was returned without any trouble and I met my friends and gave them the books and medical drugs. The pastor was grateful for the books – such a rare opportunity under Communist rule to get some resources. But when his wife saw the medicine which I had brought she was overjoyed. The previous day a lady had begged her to try to get hold of some, as it was only available on the black market and at an exorbitant price for all except the Communist Party members.
Wenseslas Square in Central Prague
However two things stood out for me especially about this time. Firstly, I had known pressure for one night, and it was not comfortable. I had felt alone, and feared the consequences of maybe facing prison in a foreign country. These brave Christians lived continually under much more intense pressures, and did it joyfully. How we should remember persecuted Christians these days.
Secondly, when they saw me they were surprised. I had visited them three years previously, and had told them that I would return. They had smiled respectfully at me. They had so often heard the same thing from others, but they never returned. It seemed that the church in the west was good at making promises, but not so good at keeping them. So when I returned they opened their arms in surprise and gratitude. “So you did remember us! You did pray for us!” They had felt forgotten, or at best they had felt they were curiosities to us – to be visited behind the Iron Curtain just as people went to the Zoo to see the animals. What does this say about our Christian faith and love?
Within eight months of my visit the Communists had lost power in the country, and the Velvet Revolution had overturned the government. The next time I visited I could stay with my friends without fear and rejoice in the freedom they now knew. But that weekend twenty years ago changed my view of what it means to love the brethren for ever.
I knew nothing of the disaster at Hillborough until I got on the plane to come home. I sympathise deeply with those who gathered at Anfield and other places today. But I hope that they will forgive me if I spent some time today thinking of my friends who endured much for their Lord and Saviour.