Apart from myself, of course
It’s Wednesday, November 13th. Tonight I will be giving the last talk of my trip through England. I have been invited by Castlegate Church in Dudley, south of Birmingham. I don’t know the pastor Craig Bennett or his congregation personally. The contact was made via a third party.
I drive through the town for half an hour. A few roadworks make life difficult for me. Eventually I find a reasonably legal parking space for my car and make my way on foot to that designated side street. Past an African store. There are figures on the street that I wouldn’t want to meet without street lighting. “Castlegate Church” – I’m there.
It will be an unforgettable event. Pastor Craig (everyone here is on a first-name basis) has just been to Argentina and preached there. But now he’s back and has a few words with me. “I was a heroin addict, a total loser,” he tells me, “there was no hope for me!” The young man in his forties has my full attention. “Then I once spent the night with a guy. And he threw me a comic book for entertainment. My host had nothing to do with faith, but Jesus from the biblical book of Revelation suddenly appeared in this comic and it suddenly blew me away. I knew and felt it instantly, Jesus Christ is real, he is the all-important person in my life!”
The service begins. 45 people are singing at the top of their lungs and some are even dancing. Next to me, a young man falls to his knees during a song and raises his arms. You could describe most of the visitors as the broken members of society. Burnt out, without prospects. Many without jobs and without hope. That said, now they have one. Because faith fills them. These men and women from many nationalities have personally experienced that churches are the waiting rooms of heaven. God wants to help them, heal them and redeem them. After my talk, people embrace me. A journeyman baker wants to hand me a whole bag of bread rolls. “No, one roll is enough for me,” I say and thank him politely.
Thursday, November 14th. After a 17-hour drive and a crossing of the canal, I arrive in Wiesbaden late at night. I discover a voice mail from Craig on my cell phone. “Klaus, we want to send you a personal donation to cover your expenses, what are your bank details?” The money is there. It covers the cost of all the meals I’ve had during my ten days in England. I am truly amazed. It was a great honor for me to spend two hours with these people. Because where the desperate call out to God, that’s exactly where he is.
And a waiting room of God is nothing other than the forecourt to heaven. I wish the pious in the well-heeled churches of this world and the “hopeless” in the boardrooms who don’t have God on their radar, the good-looking influencers on YouTube who have no idea about real life and the disoriented who no longer know where up and down is, would spend an evening in the Castlegate Church in Dudley. Where Craig, the pastor, is still the most normal person (apart from me, of course) and the presence of God fills the room. /KDJ
God bless you 🙏🙏