Communism Could Not Keep the Bible From Me

How a Stranger With a Bible Led Stanislav Alexiev to Christ

I come from Bulgaria, a country in southeastern Europe on the Balkan Peninsula.

I grew up under Communism.

From 1944 until 1989, Bulgaria was ruled by a Communist regime closely allied with the Soviet Union—so closely that Bulgaria was sometimes informally described as the Soviet Union’s “16th Republic.”

The Communist government sought to restrict the influence of Christianity.

Church activities were controlled. Evangelical work among young people was severely restricted. Ministers suffered imprisonment, deportation, surveillance, and discrimination. Some were sent to labour camps.

I grew up in that world.

But I was not a Christian.

In fact, my family was closely connected with the Communist Party. The name Alexiev was well known for this in my hometown.

I had grown up in a system that had very little room for God.

Then, in 1989, everything began to change.

The Communist World Collapsed

I can still remember coming home from school and listening to the radio.

The news was almost unbelievable.

The Communist regime was collapsing.

For my generation, Communism had simply been there.

It was the world we knew.

I had never imagined that it could disappear.

But suddenly it was happening.

Freedom had come.

For the first time, it seemed that we could breathe.

We could begin dreaming about the future.

But although Bulgaria was changing politically, something was still missing in my own heart.

I had political freedom.

I did not yet have spiritual life.

Into the Bulgarian Army

In 1990, I entered the army for my compulsory military service.

I served for a year and a half.

It was an extremely difficult period of my life.

The humiliation I experienced in the army is difficult to describe.

Eventually, I became so unwell that I was admitted to hospital.

At the time, I probably regarded that hospital stay as another miserable part of my military experience.

I did not know that God was using it to arrange the most important meeting of my life.

The Man With the Little Book

One day, while I was in the hospital, I was waiting for my parents to come and visit me.

I noticed a man walking around looking for somebody.

He approached me and asked whether I knew the person he was trying to find.

I did not.

But then I noticed something in his hands.

A small, thick book with hard covers.

For some reason, a question came into my mind.

I asked him:

“Is that the Bible, sir?”

“Yes,” he answered.

Then he asked me a question:

“Would you like to know more about the Lord and the Bible?”

I was interested.

So we sat down on the nearest chairs.

And there, in a Bulgarian military hospital, this stranger began explaining the Gospel to me.

The Book Communism Could Not Destroy

There is something remarkable to me when I look back upon that moment.

I had grown up under a Communist system that had spent decades trying to suppress Christian influence.

The government could restrict churches.

It could hinder evangelism.

It could intimidate Christians.

It could imprison ministers.

But now the Communist regime had fallen.

And there I sat in an army hospital beside a man holding a Bible.

The Book was still there.

And through that Book, I was about to meet the Saviour.

That Day I Came to Christ

The man shared the Gospel with me.

And on that day, during the summer of 1991, I came to Jesus Christ.

My country had recently experienced political liberation.

But now God gave me something infinitely greater.

Christ gave me spiritual freedom.

Communism had never answered the deepest questions of my life.

Why am I here?

What is the purpose of my life?

What happens when I die?

What hope do I have beyond this world?

Communism could not tell me.

But Jesus Christ could.

I Wanted to Know the Bible

When my military service ended, I returned to my hometown where my parents lived.

I found an evangelical church and began attending.

Those were difficult years economically in Bulgaria. Finding work was not easy, and simply making ends meet could be a struggle.

I managed to find a small job for a short period.

But something else mattered to me far more.

I wanted to know the Bible.

I wanted to know more about the Lord who had saved me.

Then I heard that there was a theological school in Sofia where I could study for a degree in divinity.

I knew what I wanted to do.

I went to my father.

“I Want to Study the Bible”

I told my father that I wanted to go to Sofia and study theology.

I asked whether he would give me permission and help me financially.

He was not happy.

Not at all.

He told me that he would not allow me to go.

Then he went further.

He forbade me from attending my local church.

But Christ had become too real to me.

I told my father that with his approval or without it, I wanted to go and learn more about my Lord.

Then my father beat me.

He hid my Bible.

He forbade me even to think about such things.

But I had made up my mind.

One day I told him:

I am going.

He made it clear that he would give me no financial help.

So I went.

The Communist’s Son Studies Theology

Think of the contrast.

I had grown up in a family closely associated with the Communist Party.

Now I was leaving home to study the Bible.

My father had hidden my Bible.

Now I was going to spend four years studying it.

I moved to Sofia and studied divinity for four years at an evangelical theological college.

And while I was studying the Scriptures, I discovered something that would eventually determine the direction of my ministry.

“Jesus Was a Jew”

As I studied the Bible, something struck me.

Most of the human authors God used to give us the Scriptures were Jewish.

The patriarchs were Jewish.

The prophets of Israel were Jewish.

The apostles were Jewish.

I believed in the God of Israel.

And above all:

Jesus Himself was a Jew.

The Lord Jesus Christ had not appeared disconnected from the Old Testament.

He was the promised Messiah.

I began thinking about the Jewish people living in Bulgaria.

Who would tell them that Jesus of Nazareth was their Messiah?

Who would lovingly open the Scriptures with them and explain the Gospel?

A burden began growing in my heart.

A Letter Sent to Israel

I wanted to know how I could share the Gospel with Jewish people in Bulgaria.

A friend put me in contact with a Christian minister in Israel.

I wrote to him and asked for help and advice.

He told me that there was not much he could personally do for me.

But he did something seemingly small.

He forwarded my letter to a mission headquarters in London.

One letter.

Passed from Bulgaria to Israel.

Then forwarded to London.

And God used it to open another door.

An Invitation From Britain

In 1996, I received an invitation from Christian Witness to Israel, or CWI, to attend its two-week Summer School in the United Kingdom.

That experience helped clarify the burden that God had already placed upon my heart.

I wanted to serve Christ among the Jewish people of Bulgaria.

CWI itself had a long history. Its roots stretched back to an evangelical mission established in London in 1842 for the purpose of bringing the Gospel to Jewish people.

Eventually I applied to serve with CWI.

And in 1998, I began working as its missionary among the Bulgarian Jewish community.

Years earlier, I had simply noticed a Bible in a stranger’s hands.

Now I was carrying that same Gospel to others.

Rousse—and Margarita

From 1997 until 2003, I was based in the northern Bulgarian city of Rousse, on the Danube.

Alongside my missionary work, I served in a local evangelical church.

And there God gave me another wonderful gift.

I met Margarita.

In 1999, we were married.

We eventually had two children, a daughter, Tsveta, and a son, Julian.

Years later, I would say of my family:

“Without my family I cannot do ministry.”

Back to Sofia

In October 2003, we moved to Sofia, Bulgaria’s capital and the centre of the country’s largest Jewish population.

I left regular pastoral ministry to concentrate more fully upon missionary work among Jewish people.

My work included personal evangelism, Bible studies, ministry through the local church, and helping Christians understand the biblical importance of bringing the Gospel to Jewish people.

I have always believed that this work should not be separated from the local church.

The Gospel is:

“the power of God unto salvation to every one that believeth; to the Jew first, and also to the Greek.” — Romans 1:16

Years Later

God continued opening doors I could never have imagined as that young Communist-era Bulgarian soldier.

By 2016, I had completed further theological studies, including a master’s degree, and was working toward a Doctor of Ministry degree.

I was also elected to the committee of the Fellowship of European Evangelical Theologians (FEET) in 2014.

When FEET introduced me to its readers in 2016, the story I told was still the same story:

A miserable young soldier.

A hospital.

A stranger.

A little hard-covered Bible.

And one question:

“Is that the Bible, sir?”

Everything that followed grew out of what God did through that meeting.

God Gave Me What Communism Could Not

When I look back, I see the contrast very clearly.

Communism promised a new society.

But it could not tell me why I existed.

It could not answer the problem of sin.

It could not tell me where I would go after death.

It could not reconcile me to God.

It could not give me eternal life.

But Jesus Christ did.

God gave me hope.

He gave me meaning.

He gave me a reason to live.

He gave me His Word.

He gave me the privilege of serving Him.

And He gave me the privilege of telling others about the Messiah who saved me.

They Tried to Silence the Gospel

There is something wonderfully fitting about my story.

For decades, Communist authorities in Eastern Europe attempted to restrict Christian witness.

Yet after Communism fell, God reached into a Bulgarian military hospital.

He did not need a great cathedral.

He did not need a famous evangelist.

He did not need a large crusade.

There was simply:

One Christian.

One Bible.

One searching young soldier.

And the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

The stranger asked:

“Would you like to know more about the Lord and the Bible?”

I said yes.

And that conversation changed the direction of my life.

I had lived without hope.

I had lived without understanding why I was here, where I would go after death, or what the purpose of life really was.

Communism had never taught me those things.

But the Lord gave me hope and the meaning of life: to love Him, to serve Him, and to live a life that glorifies Him.

Soli Deo Gloria — Glory to God alone!

—Stanislav Alexiev