Missionary Journal

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Chapter I My life's Greatest Missionary Journey By Peter Christian Romanowsky The greatest singular event that happened in my life, and by extension to the church that I was pastoring at time. Was an amazing six month missionary journey that began after Becky my wife, my mother Ritva Romanowsky and I had finished the ground work of our future ministry in Finland. By traveling there together and ministering in homes and churches while visiting relatives. Afterwards John Newton a fellow Agape Church member and I traveled to Israel and Greece on another missionary journey, surveying and ministering in these countries. Later on to return to these above mentioned countries, and more with my music minister Ken Hopkins. To complete the third and greatest missionary outreach of them all to that date, which lasted six months from the time of my departure from the San Francisco Bay Area, to the time of our return from Israel. It began after I felt I received a proper date of departure from The Lord. I had a dream possibly influenced by the same type of dream that Saint Paul had in the Bible about the Macedonian man calling him to Greece. Nevertheless I had a dream about a man asking me to come to Greece. I knew no one in the formal ministry in there at the time. My week in Athens and Corinth with Brother John Newton on the earlier mission way a logistic time of ground breaking and getting familiar with the lay of the land. Where to rent a room where to buy groceries, etc. I found in my international travels that it usually takes about a week to familiarize oneself to the basic needs when entering a new country. The ground work had been laid in our principle target countries Finland, Greece and Israel. The year was approximately 1975 the world as ours and we were young and full of the fire, of enthusiasm. After a fund raising meeting, that was challenged by two other fund raising needs. One an evangelist and teacher who had recently come back from Page 2 India and another missionary named Roberto Brown, who was also in need of funds for Mexico. “What a challenge”, I woke up with only some fifty or a hundred dollars the next morning, after the double and triple fund raiser at the Knights of Columbus meeting hall. Which we especially rented for the event in San Anselmo, Marin County California. This was the date that I told everyone that I believed, was the date of my departure. I really only had fifty dollars the morning that I was going to leave for this the greatest of missionary evangelistic journeys. As the day began I found some money in the mail, maybe as little as twenty dollars maybe more. Then a neighbor of whom I told about the departure lovely and cheerfully gave me another maybe fifty dollars, maybe less. All in all that day maybe some two hundred dollars came into my possession. Enough to easily take the first leg of the journey and fly to Los Angeles, where my parents lived and wait for god’s next provision. In the meanwhile Kenneth Hopkins our music minister did not have his plane ticket either. So I told him that I would leave by faith and wait for him in the Los Angeles San Fernando Valley suburb of Encino with my parents. I was filled with faith, I had nothing else to do but to ultimately trust in the Lord to provide. Then I got word from my wife Becky that she had sold our IBM Selectric typewriter which I had place in local paper before I left, to a seminary student from the Golden Gate Baptist Seminary in Marin County. The add had been in the paper long before I left “what divine timing”. Just when I needed it, that was two hundred more dollars. Then my parents contributed the rest of the money for the plane ticket, with enough money left over to buy a first class Eurail Pass. So that we would be able to travel from Denmark to Greece, over land and sea after first landing in Finland. Then on to our final destination, returning from Israel. The plane ticket was called an open jaw arrangement, with the rail pass accommodations of being able to sleep in all first class couches, due to the fact that all the seats folded down flat, when one wanted to lay down or sleep between cities in Europe. I can’t remember exactly how much my parents Page 3 Contributed, but if I can recollect properly it seems that the pastor of the Foursquare Church Tarzana and his wife contributed money also. The pastor and his wife will always be in memories because of something unexpected and special that happened months later in Rome Italy. They told me about a place they ministered in Rome and a pastor they knew named John Mcturnen. Who I was told and later to find out first hand that by faith he had been used by God, to build the largest Pentecostal Church sanctuary in Europe. In the suburbs of Rome, according to his testimony. I believe the ministers name in Tarzana was Pastor Wayneburg “what a couple”, they have seen some of the greatest events in modern church history. In the meanwhile a miracle was happening in northern California, where I had left Ken Hopkins. He had taken his Volkswagen bug to his grandparents home, to wash it before putting an add in the paper to sell it. While there he told his grandparents of what was transpiring , they were so impressed that they gave him enough money to buy a plane ticket, from the funds that they had been saving for his college education. They believed this would be a great opportunity to travel and see Europe. “It was done”, we had the money, we bought the open jaw return tickets from Los Angeles to Finland, then by rail through Europe and over land and sea through the Near and Middle East to Israel then return from there by air. It was amazing it was a dream comes true for any evangelist. We departed with the blessings of my parents from the airport and we were off, with only a little money in Kens pockets and nothing in mine. When we lands I had to borrow five dollars from Ken for the train ride from Finland's capital city Helsinki, to Tainus Jurva a suburb of Jurva which is near to the mid country eastern port city if Vassa. It was incredible when I look back, but young people have a lot of faith and that is why I believe that Jesus taught that, “…we must become as little to children to enter the Kingdom of Heaven”. We were on the first leg of a journey that I only dreamed about writing about in a journal. Page 4 “God is Good”! upon arriving at my grandparents farmhouse and after settling in a writing a few letters, as my manor had become after arriving in Finland. To let ministers and Christian workers know that I was in country. Invitations started coming in. During one meeting in a home for instance, after prayer for the sick and operating in the word of knowledge, calling out what physical or spiritual need was, as it was being healed. Revival broke out, word got out. I still remember the look on Brother Matti Ojalas (local Elder who invited us to minister) face when I called out a physical need, while praying for instance for someone sitting in a chair. I believe it was Perkins’s disease and the man responding while being healed. News spread like fire, the healing in this home meeting service somewhere near the town of Jurva. Organized by a “living saint,” in my opinion Matti Ojala of Jurva. News spread to other towns hamlets and villages about the healings and unmistakable power of God, that was flowing and healing person after person. Heart problems were a common prayer request, or discerning in the Spirit the needs while praying . People were being healed, people were being touched, joy was everywhere, hope had sprung anew in this spring and summer season. The warmth especially in the beginning of home meetings and services everywhere was contagious. I had read so clearly about miracles and phenomena like these in Charles G. Finneys book called Revival Lectures. As well as other stories of the way God used this great evangelist in America in the nineteenth century, I found a copy of one of his books in my grandparents home in Finland in the Finnish language. I thought to myself how my ancestors were ministered to by this same great book as I was. Page 5 We began we began being invited to speak in every imaginable place, such as factories for instance, where I felt so much like Charles G. Finney where he also spoke in factories. The people, workers, with their children sat there stoic like, then began opened up at the preaching of the Word, then lost all inhibitions when time came to pray for miracles and salvation as it was in our meetings, only on a smaller scale, with more healings. Again word spread at light speed, the light of God’s Word, the feeling of excitement that the Lord was able to convey through Ken and I was contagious. The healings were countless, the words and sensations of supernatural revelation of peoples needs in prayer were flowing. I feel almost overwhelmed as I write these words down, “my pen is the tongue of a ready writer,” as the scripture say. “Oh how I love Jesus,” it’s like I’m there again even though I am writing this far away and many light years from that time in space. I feel like I’m still there, ready only to let God flow like a mighty river of healing and salvation or redemption, as some might want to put it. Only a blessing and healing is the same, no matter what you may call it. I’m starting to lose touch with the physical so to speak, I have witnessed so many healing and miracles that I am tongue tied and awe struck, except to be able to write these flowing words with my pen. “God can do it again,” every day is a miracle; there is problem to big for God. I feel Satan also fighting, not fighting the good fight of faith, but fighting for our souls and our minds. Resist him, rebuke him, give him no quarter, and give him no glory, by even dwelling on his evil activity. “God is Good,” this is the number one principle, the first doubt Satan put in Adam and Eves mind was that God was holding something back that was good for them. In other words, that God was holding something back that was good for them. In other words, that God wasn’t perfectly good to His children. Resist that lie and you will be always able to overcome. As I reflect back, those days were some of the most powerful days of ministry I had ever experiences. My mother was healed at a Kathryn Kuhlmen service in the shrine auditorium some years earlier. Her testimony was published in Kathryn's second best selling book GOD CAN DO IT AGAIN. I am mentioned also in her testimony and because this book was published in Finland, in the Finnish language it helped open many doors for us. But the primary immediate moving force was the Holy Spirit. Revival had begun Finland, is a famous Page 6 country for revivals. It was prayer that kept the Russians from over running the country and seizing it as a satellite. I saw people praying on their knees OUT LOUD in the largest Pentecostal Church in Helsinki on subsequent visits and in time and in particular, it etched into my memory forever to see so many people on their knees. In reflection I remember a little sign as you enter the huge sanctuary in Glad Tidings Pentecostal Church in San Francisco and it read something like this “PLEASE DO NOT PRAY OUT LOUD”. No wonder San Francisco has become such a Seat of Satan, when people forget how to fervently pray without fearing what some carnal minded person sitting next you is thinking about you anyway. “GOD IS SO GOOD”, it is Him that I spend all my most precious time glorifying, and if I criticize it is only out of deep love for God’s People who need leadership and fearless devotion to the written as well as The Holy Spirit inspired spoken Word “OUT LOUD”! We need to rise up and cast out fear and doubt and worry, no longer use these words. But instead use the words concern, faith and optimism in their place. I have replaced these words with CONCERNED, never do I tell people to worry about this or that or say “I’M AFRAID” that this might happen . Or I’m afraid for you my brother or sister but instead say, “I AM PRAYING FOR YOU” and BELIEVE only the best will happen! In Finland on this third and most powerful missionary journey to date, invitations keep coming to preach, sing and pray for the sick as well as other needs that they had. Sometimes we would have two services scheduled in the same day. All in all during that same thirty days we spent in Finland we had ministered in approximately thirty eight meetings altogether. Many of the meetings were in home churches because not every town and village had a church building. But it seemed that every town did have a church meeting in someone’s home, if not two or three. I remember a Baptist church that my grandmother took me to in a village close to where she and my aunt lived. I believe on my first visit to Finland, well anyway I was asked to address the congregation and minister on some two different occasions. When I believe it was the second time I was there a leader in the Baptist Denomination in Finland, who was visiting and ministering also, told me that speaking in tongues was not the issue that distinguished Baptists and Pentecostals in Finland. Because the Baptists speak in tongues also, it was something else he said or some other Page 7 difference, but we never got we never got into the differences whatever they were. I believe he said that he was the secretary in the leadership of the main Baptist denomination in Finland. The first time we went to that church I was asked to give my testimony or a greeting as it’s called, when a visiting minister first comes to a church. My mother was sitting behind a lady in the congregation and lady was praying in tongues. My mother asked her if she a Pentecostal and the lady turned around and said with pride that she was a Baptist. As Ken Hopkins and I were ministering and praying for the sick, we were being paid without having to ask for anything. We were transported and provided with translators, I am primarily speaking of a wonderful women of God named Ritva Phooey. “God bless her,” as she tirelessly interpreted for both Ken and myself. I never really got to thank her as much as I would have liked to. Partially because of the great heat and excitement of the period, or because of the many other occasions when returning to Finland with her as our primary interpreter, we or I myself either began to take her for granted, or that she was just too young or too potentially pretty, and felt so venerable being so far from family and friends that we or I myself, really couldn’t get too emotionally close to her. “GOD KNOWS HER LABOR OF LOVE”. I feel indebted to her to her for her great humility and godliness in the way she conducted herself and never doubted what she was witnessing and seeing as she translated. Ritva was as much as part of the miracle services as Ken and I were. Matti Ojala to is greatly impressed upon my mind for his professionalism and good nature, while he not only took care of scheduling our appointments and engagements, but was faithful in the financial business work that somebody had to do while we were all immersed in our Spiritual warfare world. Matti was the primary person that began our schedules and launched us into the Spiritual dimension of ministry. Before we left Finland the engagements began to get larger and larger, one dear pastor organized a revival meeting in a high school auditorium and the same day in the morning I was asked to give the morning devotion in the same auditorium before the entire high school of some nine hundred students. The devotion was short, but the fact that there is no separation of church and sate struck me in Finnish schools. They get all the teaching, both evolution and creation. A much more balanced system then ours in America today. In the evening service we ministered and prayed for the sick. Many hearts were touched and healed in this period of ministry in this part of Finland. Page 8 On one occasion, I don’t even know for sure if it was on this missionary evangelism journey or the next. I was asked to speak open air in the center of a town with a lot or red bricks. I believe the name of the city was called in Swedish Jacobstad and possibly in Finnish Pietrisary, all the cities towns and street signs on the coast of Finland are bilingual. Due to the many Swedish Finns that live there, my grandfather himself being one. We were in the front of what looked like city Hall with it’s impressive structure and I was able to speak through P.A. system and shake the buildings in the town square, so to speak. Such freedom of speech and I gave a hard hitting message about salvation and repentance if I recall. I stayed in a missionary training school in this part of Finland North of Vaasa, not far from a town called Umeo. Here in the school my interpreter lived and taught English. English is a very important missionary language because it is the principle international language spoken and missionary trainees here were preparing to go to Kenya. Where English is the principle language spoken for instance, plus anywhere you go in the world someone knows enough English to translate for you. In this school I have many fond memories, the young ladies of which the school seemed primarily comprised of were so thoughtful and helpful. When I asked for a shower upon my arrival they looked at one another at first and seemed a little puzzled. Then they opened the door of a huge walk in kitchen area where there was nothing but large pots and pans, from what I could see next to the main part of the kitchen area and closed the door. This was apparently where they cleaned the pots and pans and stored things. There was a drain on the concrete floor, so I just turned on the hot water and poured it on myself; I felt like I was showering in someone’s kitchen the room, was so big. Well I didn’t fully realize it till later that they had no shower and this was the only place with running hot running water, except the bathroom sinks. Mind you now this was a great wooden building, something that looked like a donated mansion for the school. For bathing the Sauna or Sana as the Swedes call it was the place to wash and it is only fired up with wood at certain times, or certain days, certainly not every day. Page 9 The water was heated traditionally on top of or next to the Sauna fire, and then poured on you, hot and cold. In the winter sometimes people roll in the snow naked to cool off, or jump into a near by ice cold pond. I never witnessed this myself. (Only being there in the winter but once, and that year was not much snow). Regardless it was a time of such intense ministry it was hard to even think about every day little pleasures such as daily hot showers, but I still love the memories of the smell of burning wood, soap and hot steam coming off the rocks in the Sauna. Even thought I wasn’t totally accustomed to bathing naked with other people especially relatives, males only of course. At this time also and in the school Ken Hopkins was asked to play and sing over the radio visa via tape. I believe the music may have even covered all Finland on its primary, if not only radio network. Regardless whether it was local or national the Word was getting out. We were also taken to a Swedish speaking elderly retirement home and ministered there in healing and encouragement and were received well. That is where I realized how distinct the language difference barrier was between ethnic Swedish speaking Finnish citizens and ethnic Finns. The Swedish Finns did not find the need for a large part to understand or learn the Finnish language. From what I was told it was too difficult a language to learn (being non-Germanic). Although this Swedish speaking retirement home had to be translated into their tongue, I still thought it strange. But as I look back after many years this was an older generation. Since the war with Russia I was told that the Swedish speaking Finns and the ethnic Finns began to for instance intermarry more. The people were wonderful though, charming and polite with great warmth and smiles and miracles did happen. Finland at the time had only two national television channels, one in Finnish and the other in Swedish and neither of them were on twenty four hours a day. One must remember that Finland was passed back and forth between Russia and Sweden for many centuries. My great great grand father Jussi Tarkenen was one of the ministers; teachers and businessmen that help bring the Finnish language back, by founding a school and writing textbooks. I was learning so much about the language differences between ethnic Swedes who lived in Finland and the indigenous Finns, along with the Laplanders who were in the area possibly before them all. Page 10 Since I am writing these events in 1995, (plus finally typing and revising this text in 2005) and the events took place in approximately 1975. Many kilometers and names of towns ministered in are not as clear, as if I had recorded them in a journal at time. But I am so great full to God that I am finally able to complete my journal, in large part at this time. While still typing and hopefully remembering more as I go, in further additions and revisions God willing. May he help by His Holy Spirit, whom the Bible says will bring all things to remembrance. These most powerful and memorial events are with me and written down forever in 1975, when I first wrote is manuscript by hand. May my children both spiritual and biological keep these memories and history alive forever. There were also businessmen, professionals and ministers who were like saints helping me along the way, behind the scenes in Finland. Then again people like Ritva Poyhonen our translator and Matti Ojala a businessmen and church elder back in the town of Jurva, still playing a major part in organizing meetings and keeping tabs on things In The Spirit along with countless others whom I hope to remember, as I continue revising, editing and expanding this handwritten manuscript in 2005. One Event that Matti Ojala organized early on in the campaign was to minister in a TENT MEETING in the village of Jurva. I had received an invitation to open the first meeting in a LARGE TENT REVIVAL in one of the largest cities in the area. But Matti who was handling my engagements, on the earthly plane, had scheduled me and Ken instead to the smaller home town tent revival. Every summer Finland flourishes with old time religion style tent meetings, like were common in America in the forties. It was like being in the past in the great days of American evangelism. I wanted so much to speak in the large tent OPENING SERVICE, but duty calls to minister to my home town even if it means missing a part of a dream to be under a canopy that eventually could hold five thousand people. Matti was right to schedule me to speak the same date in the local tent meeting instead, even though it held only fraction of the people I could have ministered to. Size doesn’t always matter in the long run. I am sharing this part of the story because after reading about and seeing the great tent revivals in America on television, and even witnessing such an event in my home county of Marin. Organized by Pastor Fred Small of the Church of God in Marin City Page 11 California, I yearn to witness those days again in a general way, in the first person from the pulpit, but everything in God’s time. There was a young pastor and Bible smuggler, into Russia that organized some of the best meetings for Ken Hopkins and me. I can’t quite remember his name at this time, but it will eventually come to me. He went to Kenya Africa as missionary with his family, not long after I first met him. He lost one of his children a young daughter from what I can remember, to local disease. My heart went out to him, and his pretty and young and brilliantly blond petit wife next time I saw him. I felt some guilt and shame, that at the same time they were getting ready and raising money to go to Africa, my preaching schedule overlapped their fund raising schedule. I even thought I saw some sadness, bewilderment and a shrug of a shoulders, in the look of the eyes of some of the elders. As if our timing schedules could have been off, and more money and awareness could have been raised for the missionaries. We all looked inside and out for what could have caused such a tragedy, but we all pushed on, especially the young pastor. That was during my fourth missionary visit to Finland. Money is often a source of weariness in a crusade, where we are all looking to the spiritual. Even though we never asked for money, it was given to by Matti the Elder, and many other churches and groups for services rendered. In fact it is a shame to beg for money in this country; Finnish people are very proud and honest, (honest as a Finn). We were never short of money or hospitality. The young missionary pastor and his little family will always on in my heart and mind. The many meetings he organized for us on our third journey, the careful hospitality of him and his wife in his home /church, the obedience they had from their beautiful children and the congregation that he pastured. I could only imagine, what my non-believing or non committed relatives would have thought, if I lost a child on the mission field in Africa. Some already thinking, that I am beside myself for living and moving in this spiritual world. “God bless you pastor and man of God and your beautiful snow white platinum blond haired wife”. Page 12 The meetings in Finland were getting more powerful intense and more numerous. Although we were not able to speak at the opening meeting of the Large tent revival meeting in the city of Sainajoki, because of the two invitations on we had that same day. Nevertheless later on and towards the end of our thirty eight day mission in Finland we were blessed and invited to preach in the largest congregation, of the second largest city of that area of west central Finland the beautiful San Francisco like city of Vaasa. This was our ultimate and trumpet service, in The Lord. People had traveled one hundred kilometers from another area where we ministered just before. This was our final farewell service and people were crowded all the way to the balcony. Ken Hopkins told me later, that when he turned to look over at me ministering, he said with admiration and wonder, “Peter you looked like a real evangelist”. The power and anointing of God was there mightily. One lady sitting near the front started to cry out like as though a great struggle was taking place. People began to look to me for leadership as she was shaking and tensed up into a ball, while still sitting. I sensed that it was the power of the Holy Spirit coming on her and an inner battle for healing and deliverance or salvation had begun. The church building had hundreds of people there if I recall, it seemed like a thousand looking back, and even the balcony was filled. It was awesome, the atmosphere was charged, the invisible Shaken Glory was present, and the Holy Sprit was moving mightily. People were being healed, revival was staking place right before us, and souls were being saved. What I remember the most was the supernatural warmth, as I was to sense and pray for people’s needs at the alter call. I could feel by warmth on my own body, on what part of other people’s bodies were being healed and would call out the healing in the audience. This same phenomenon happened in virtually every meeting we conducted, in very place and very heart that would let the Holy Sprit move, heal, save and deliver. The Word of Knowledge moved daily, hearts where being physically healed as well as spiritually. I remember in one service prior to our final service in the large Pentecostal Church in Vassa. I believe it may have been in the evening service at the high school auditorium, in the hearts were being physically healed, I could sense people’s pain and healing in their hearts, it was Page 13 supernatural beyond words, I could feel in my body heart and mind, what people were going through. Words did not have to be spoken, people came foreword in every service, or I reached out to them in audience. Touching, healing, moving, singing, motivating everywhere where people had an open mind, and an open heart. The healing is still flowing; I can feel it, while I am typing these words. I never worked so hard in my life, doing something so rewarding, being part of a revival a supernatural experience, never has one young man felt so blessed. While I was praying ministering and traveling through west central Finland, I thought about all the petty problems that the local church and ministries had in Marin County. Truly a prophet is not without honor, except in his own country and his own home, as the Bible teaches. I felt so free, no head trips I had purpose in life. I felt I could have stayed here indefinitely, full time, with my family and children. This was only for the poorest of the poor, In Spirit. Nobody but a saint could do this, make the sacrifices, and teach the children as missionaries as long distance family cruise sailors do. It wasn’t my lot, I married into wealth and power, and it is hard to break free from this both blessing and curse. Jesus taught the rich young ruler to sell to sell his excess, and come and follow him. He could not, Jesus also taught that it was harder for a camel to go thorough the eye of needle then for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. To those that trust in uncertain riches Jesus also taught that they must give their extra coat, to those who have none. That goes for houses and property also, as the early believers did so after the day Pentecost. I have never had more then I have needed, even when I lived in the nicest house on the block, I and my wife Becky took in all the poor and homeless. I remembered Charles G. Finny the American Awakening Evangelist who lived out of a trunk with his wife and was so poor, that that was all they owned at one time. I could have traveled around the world non stop doing nothing but teaching, preaching, traveling. But I needed a home base, the church I was pasturing, the wife and children and home that I left behind. Even though we would have been provided for even more, if my family was with me. But it was not our lot at the time. Someday in the future I would like to circle the earth ministering somewhat like my famous Finnish great granduncle who became my great grandfather at the early deaths of my biological great grandparents. Matti Tarkenen was his brother, who adopted my grandmother and raised her with his Germen wife. He went on to seminary and became a Lutheran Page 14 Priest, then traveled around the world three times establishing missions, schools and ordained the first Lutheran priests in Angola Africa, started a school in Shanghi China, ministered in probably in or near Nagasaki Japan, and started missions for Finnish seamen. Most notably in my mind was the one he started in San Francisco around the turn of the century. The red brick Finnish Lutheran Church located on Church Street on the right hand of to Market St. facing south, which is still there. The church wrote the Finnish Governments Missionary Board to send someone to help the Finnish sailors who along with mostly Scandinavians were the backbone of International Merchant Fleet. That first invited him to minister to the seamen and sober them up and give them coffee and make them write home to their mothers, and sent them money. He said to my mother later, while she sat at his feet listening to his stories, that that was his first mission and the it took three years to establish and was the toughest assignment he ever had. The red brick building where the Seamen’s Mission was located, is still at the foot of Market Street, it is a restaurant today and my older brother Bronik got a free meal there after telling them the story. It was one of the few buildings that was not destroyed by the Great Earthquake of 1906. There were still 30 people there meeting regularly in the sixties when my mother visited the mission. I attempted to contact the lady in charge one Sunday at the Church, but they were having a dinner that day and wasn’t available to talk. My mother said that she still had pictures and history of him with her. He went on to become head of all missionary activities for the Lutheran Church in Finland translated the New Testament into modern Finnish wrote theology books and brought the first black Africans to Finland from Angola. His story is in a museum in Helsinki, the Lutheran Church and State are together in Finland. He received a metal from the Czar of Russia, according to my older brother Bronik who also visited and worked in Finland many years later. Building Nokia Corporations Website after being contracted out by The IBM. Corporation. When Matti Tarkenen died all he had accumulated in life was memorabilia from the missionary field and a set of silver wear given to him as a gift and pictures and books and the family farm which he inherited form his father, my great great grandfather Anti Tarkenen. Who also was a Free Church Minister, businessman, educator and school founder. In fact he wrote some of the first books teaching and bringing back the Finnish language, which has been suppressed in favor of Swedish. Depending on what side of Finland you lived on I suppose, because she was passed back and Page 15 forth between Russia and Finland for four hundred years before her relatively recent independence. We left Finland after thirty eight days of ministry. We came with only ten dollars or so and with no promises of meetings or engagements in advance. But with only the promise of God’s Word and the Holy Spirit’s directions, which can always be relayed upon. We had some three hundred and sixty dollars each after ministering in approximately thirty eight meetings, an average on one a day. Where the pay we received and the general wages paid in Finland, was equal to one third of what people made in America at the time. So by American standards and the rate of exchange, we left Finland with closer to one thousand dollars each above our expenses. I am not saying all this to boast, but to show the sacrifice and love of the Christians in Finland. To those who come to them bearing the precious Word of God. My aunt was shocked and surprised when she saw how much we were being paid after ministering in a few meetings and yet we thought it not that much at the time and cared not about the amount, because we were so glad to be provided for with food, lodging and even clothes. I remember a Christian businessman taking us out shopping from the church in Vassa, and another Christian businessman lodging us in his own home and transported us to every meeting. We never had to pay for transportation except once or twice between cites, but were virtually everywhere. Everywhere we went, we were taken care of. Before leaving Finland I also want to mention that in the relatively large city of Peitrassari we were invited to minister in a special meeting organized for the Gypsies, or those who are called Romany I will have much more to say in the future about these special Christian Peoples in this special Christian Church. A Christian Romany Evangelist named Manny, and the Pastor of the Church he belonged to organized the meeting. The women wore their beautiful full dresses and the men all wore their traditional Gypsy Boots. I especially remember a beautiful young Gypsy women come to the alter with; tears in her eyes and people were being healed in general inside and out. Page 16 Enough can’t be said about Kenneth Hopkins and the songs he wrote while on the road, his beautiful twelve string guitar, HIS MUSIC WHICH DREW MANY HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE AND HELPED MAKE THE JOURNEY WHAT IT WAS. Like Paul and Silas we were together, two by two as the Lord sent his Disciples out to evangelize the world, in preparation for his coming, “The fields are white saith the Lord, pray to the Lord of the harvest to sent laborers into the field, go to where people will listen, go to where the Word is hungered for. Cast not you pearls before swine, wipe off even the dust from your feet as a testimony against those who will not receive The Living Word of the Lord. It will be more tolerable in the day of judgment for Sodom and Gomorrah when for those cities that reject the Living Word of Christ”. To use some of the words of Christ, in a prophet inspirational manor. CHAPTER TWO The Journey to Sweden We disembarked on a vessel from Vaasa to Umeo Sweden where the next leg of our journey was about to begin. Once on the ship and in the middle of the sea, we were in very high waves. Higher then anyone might have expected on such and inland sea, of which we were on. It was dark and grey and windy, I had no fear even though I was tempted. I had witnessed so many miracles back in Finland and of course I remembered Christ walking on the water. I sat behind near the ships stern watching the huge grey waves pushing us westward and onwards to Sweden. I remembered how my parents escaped to Sweden with my older baby brother in a thirty foot life boat before I was born, with some thirty refugees from Finland in the vessel. The rudder broke and my father got into the water to fix it. The waves that night during the storm they went through sank a couple ships including an American vessel. What we were going through was a wind storm and not even a true winter storm. Even when it got dark I feared not, even though I had never seen waves that huge, since I first looked out of a ships window coming to America as a child. On an ocean liner that was going through a big gray, gloomy storm in the middle of the Atlantic. There was much motion Page 17 on this fairly large boat that we were on. I watched people drinking when we started, as people often do on boats. Then I saw them later, so very sick and vomiting in the restroom and sad to say some, did not even make it to the restroom before getting sick and leaning against the hallway or lobby wall. Alcohol only increased motion sickness, and does not help it at all to my observation at the time. I think people were scared and tried to forget. Sea sickness takes your mind off the fear of death, to the point you don’t care that much about it any more, that’s the blessing in disguise. Dealing with sickness is sometimes a diversion from dealing with fear. While on a small twenty foot sail boat alone off the Pacific Coast of California many years later, in a very big wind storm, when the seas where behind as big as houses. I experienced some sea sickness, but just enough to take my mind off of the wind and the waves, and focus my heart and mind on my body and my vessel. It’s hard to explain sometimes but every dark cloud has a silver lining and when one is very sick, death is sometimes to be welcomed, more then fear of death. I also was thrown out of my twenty four foot boat by a rough wave, but held onto the gun rail, even though thank God I had a rope around my waist for safety, which I didn’t have to use. Only later in my bed, when I would think about what happened, did I have to think about the fear. At the time, there was no time to fear. When my parents landed in Sweden after the storm, they were blown off course and landed somewhere in the southern part of Sweden. The government sent back all the refugees in the boat back to Finland, except for my parents because my father was a Russian defector and soviet army officer and would have been executed for desertion to the Finnish front, during the Russian Finnish war. It also helped I’m sure that my mother was half Swedish, so that is how I happened to be born in Kristianstad Sweden on a Sunday on June 26th 1949. My Swedish name was Hejlsberg of which my grandfather changed to the basic Finnish equivalent of Kallio. Did I forget to mention that one of my distant cousins on my grandfather’s side became the head of Nokia Corporation, which became the largest cell phone company in the world? Hejlsberg and Kallio both basically mean rock, or Stone Mountain or barren place. That is what the Vikings named North America when Leif Erickson landed in what is now in the Northern Canada territories above the tree line. Heliland or barren and rocky land because it was above the sandy beaches of the Golden Strand, of which the Vikings discovered later, after they sailed further south and renamed their new found country Vineland, after finding wild grapes in order to make wine. I believe the original name Heliland also came from the basic root Nordic word for rock, from which we get the word Hell, or barren place. It’s interesting that I was named Peter, which also means rock, or more accurately stone. Page 18 While on this ocean going roller coaster I to write or dictate a message on cassette to the church that I was the founding pastor. We had recently moved our Sunday service to Stewart Chapel which is on the grounds of The San Francisco Theological Seminary in San Anselmo California. The Seminary moved from San Francisco some time ago and was built to look somewhat like a Scottish Castle, during 1906 the earthquake one of its towers collapsed. The epicenter of the earthquake was actually centered in Marin County on the North Side of the Golden Gate, in a little town called Olema. These is a story about the ground opening under a cow and it fell in. But later was dismissed as hoax or an attempt to bury an already dead cow, by pushing it into the opening of the earth. Marin County now is more or less an extended suburb, or bed room community of San Francisco. Even though most of the county is beautiful and rural with extensive natural wonders made up of parks and wilderness. Dominated by a majestic mountain called Mount Tam, where the first mountain bike was built by a man named Gary Fisher of Fairfax. In the heart of this county sits Stewart Chapel, perched on a hill overlooking the town of San Anselmo which sprung up around the Seminary when it moved there, of which before it was just referred to as The Junction or train junction. My ancestor Matti took these trains and traveled extensively around preaching as far as Astoria in Northern California, where a lot of Finns lived. Our church even rented one of the old train stops for an office and meeting room for Friday evening dinner services. I believe a rock and roll band called Credence Clearwater Revival meet there before us for rehearsal, and recorded an album with a picture of the inside, with a band member sitting on a bicycle. I couldn’t help but wonder, if my great granduncle/father stopped at this very spot further down from the main junction, on his way to a speaking engagement somewhere north. The ghosts, spirits and history of this place in general speak to me, of a person who prayed, looked and wondered who would follow him. I Page 19 can not help but to think of him when I am on a bike path that used to be an old train track. Of him thinking and praying as I would do as he traveled along looking at the people towns and scenery. That his work would not be in vain and that someone, preferably a decedent would carry on the family name and spiritual tradition, of bearing the precious Word. Which is more precious then houses, land or gold, and which words are the building bocks of a city not made with hands, which lies eternal and not with brick and mortar but with souls of the redeemed. The building blocks made into a precious house with many rooms and with many mansions built into a city immortal and fellowship with God and all that is good forever. Where nobody is hungry lonely or cold anymore and God shall wipe away every tear and fear. Yes my ancestors were here before me, yes they prayed that someone would follow them and build on their spiritual work and complete it and yes God did answer their prayers, and they are still praying under the Alter of Heaven for us. We are not alone in this World, even though it feels like it in the middle of the long night we call Earth compared to the eternal day, except for the still small voice of God and the good that He is contemplating for us who love Him and worship Him. The gold of a man's heart is all that ones needs in Heaven to walk the streets of Spiritual mirror polished streets of gold. The diamonds of ones souls are all that are needed to shine with brilliant colors through any darkness, and the silver of ones word will all that will be needed to purchase anything of need in the City of God. The gates will be made of great pearls carved with the mighty deeds of the righteous and their exploits. The stones of the walls will have the names of the redeemed engraved and set with precious gem stones and he language spoken in Heaven will be that of poetry. There will be blue sky all the day, with brilliant pure white clouds, which are the symbols of the garments of the inhabitations that were washed in the red blood of the spotless Lamb. The throne before God and the Lamb will have a sea glass, like no sailor has ever seen for calmness and beauty. Stewart Chapel where meet for Sunday Service was the most beautifully situated in all Marin County. It is also a popular place to have weddings, being also called The Wedding Chapel. The vaulted extremely high ceilings and the stone work was marvelous. The high stain glass windows made the chapel or more accurately church size building, awesome to behold. The pedestal pulpit is ascended by steps and was made of fine oak wood. Behind the great the great Page 20 golden wood alter was also a great carving of the last supper in oak facing rows of white oak pews that could seat a least two hundred people. Above the carving was a circular stain glass window, with great tear drops like a spinning wheel descending into a cacophony of brilliant stain glass light climaxing into the center where there was an cut glass effigy of Christ the Lamb of God, carrying a banner or cross on His shoulder. It was awesome and hypnotic to behold in this great Cathedral like Chapel. “Oh you must see by now, that I am in another world free from petty fears of letter and word”. I feel poetry moving through my soul, that language that makes sense of all sincerely held religious beliefs. Perfect inflections and freedom to move and express the ecstasy of creativity. In The Holy Spirit I can create and imagine brilliant lights and dazzling sights. I can create things out of nothing, I can speak things into existence like my Heavenly Father saith, the Spirit in the Word of God, where He inspired the great words. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made”. To quote from John first chapter verses one to three, and then in the first chapter of Genesis ‘In the beginning God created the heaven and earth. And the earth was without form and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let their be light: and there was light”. I am free, “I am free at last” to express myself, move myself, in The Spirit, I see things, with my minds eye, things the earthly eyes can only imagine, only dream, I dream while I’m awake, I feel the breath of God moving through my spirit and earthly lungs, I see Heaven, I see people all one, all beautiful all young all caring and tender, forever free. holding one another without sex or gender, but all looking beautiful, like a man or women looking at one another, holding one another in their arms, laying ones head one another’s lap and falling asleep without fear of abandonment, disappointment or discomfort. I see flowers and colors vibrating and singing with eternal music coming from everywhere, where odors and incense are beyond human description where flight is a given and majesty and rule is given to all according to their talents and deeds. But above all praise be given for the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world, and to the Page 21 Father of lights who by His Spirit accomplished it all and all praise be given to Him and towards Him when the rule of Christ be accomplished. “Oh the Logos”, all that has been sacrificed for the faith of believing in His Word, all the wealth and riches that have been traded for the intangibility of His Word. All the sacrifices made trusting that His Word will bring life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness with purpose. How many people have traded their wealth and riches for this “Logos Christ” only to find at times persecution and loss of reputation, for trusting in something so visibly unseen with the naked eye? But the Eye of the Lord sees all things, and travels back and forth throughout the earth looking for those who trust in Him, and will reward them with great riches in the heart and glory from above, not only in this world but in the world to come. “Oh the victories and joy”, when after our sacrifices and we are found to be wise, by God’s Word. Even more then all our teachers as it says in Psalms 119:89 “For ever, O Lord they word is settled in heaven”. and then in Psalms 119: 98 “Thou through they commandments hast made me wiser than mines enemies: for they are ever with me. I have more understanding than all my teachers:” Psalms 119:105 “They word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” Christ is the embodiment, fulfillment and empowerment of the word by The Holy Spirit, to “walk through the valley of the shadow of death”, only to stand above on top the highest mountain. The higher the mountains, the deeper the valleys, you can’t have one without the other. The dead letter of the law and commandments are powerless without The Holy Spirit of love. The law was given to punish the wicked and make wise the righteous. Where there is love there is no law, “Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked him a question, tempting him, and saying Master, which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord they God with all they heart, and with all they soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. Matthew 22: 35-40. Page 22 “Oh my heart is so full, be patient my children,” as God teaches us in His word. Books are a minimal material a maximum world; they are hated and destroyed by those who would pursue wealth power and glory from some other source, then by the patient and basically benign study and meditation on God’s word. I am losing the ability to speak in the English language So I will begin to write in a tongue, “Oula kala halola kahala oula oula lahiola owyola”. It’s a song or praise, like listening to a violin or an operatic oratorio in German or Italian. We may not understand the words or even the story it’s telling but are moved, lifted up and taken up by its melodic beauty into another world or dimension. We begin to associate the beautiful vibrations with good feelings, memories and experiences that we have subconsciously memorized. For instance “a groan” is the same in every language on earth, or a laugh, that is universal. When we begin to realize that all audio life is made up of beautiful vibrations that can be counted. Just to laugh says so much, just to think of something funny. Laughter how unexplainable and yet the scripture states that “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine:” Proverbs 17:22. Marriage, that’s a funny word, a fun word, “I’m getting married”, isn’t that funny, just joking. Can’t you feel the laughter, The Holy Laughter, like Holy Rolling with The Rock of Ages. Or cracking up, what’s that all about, but to “break on through, to the other side”. My favorite scene in the movie Treasure of The Sierra Madre was when Director John Huston’s father playing the Ole Timer and Gold Miner started laughing after he lost all his gold, and got his partner laughing out load hysterically, until they forgot their woes and each went on their real reward. The partner to marry the slain fur trader, and the old man to become the Medicine Man or Elder of a Mexican Indian Tribe. I knew a missionary who became that Ole Man and who married young Mexican women in the same Sierra Madre Mountain range in Durango Mexico. Where it rained like clock work every warm summer afternoon. Page 23 I’m in a spell, a “good spell” or as the word says “Gospel”, which means good news, do I have to spell it out: I’m in a trance, in The Spirit, when I write, I wait for that spiritual wave to take me, seduce me, make love to me and to ride that wave to the top, then down again. The secret is to “stay on the board” or on the board without falling and crashing. “My heart pants, In The Spirit”, my lungs laugh, my heart it sings, my eyes they smile, my soul it wonders, my spirit, it’s In Heaven , when I walk, with God. When I breathe, I feel the breath or Spirit of God, in my lungs. This trance like state, this good spell, is where I long to live, when I am writing, sensing, typing, listening to music that makes no sense, by Placio Domingo in Spanish, I can only make out a few words, but I feel the feeling, the spirit, of the song, it doesn’t conflict with my typing, because there is no competition for words, he has his and I have mine, and sometimes they merge into my grammar. It is hard to breath, my feeling is that I want to leave my body, but it is necessary to stay here and finish my course, run the race. Time is failing me, I’m in eternity, only there is where you’re ultimate and eternal bank account should be forever. Only there “…where neither moth nor rust corrupt, and where thieves do not break and steal:”, as Jesus spoke in Matthew 6:20. Oh fear where is your powder, only in death do you dwell, only in the life Christ are you banished by his word, and loving commandments which are not harsh, but his burden is easy to bear, but to love one another is every body’s duty on earth. When in doubt love, when in fear have faith, when confused lay your thoughts on God’s perfect peace Holy Spirit of peace that passes all understanding, let the love of God flow; let Him carry you to worlds and dimensions beyond. Let Him show you the way to walk in this world, let Him show you the eternal things of the world to come that never can be taken away. Only then can we begin to understand that the pain and robberies that we have done, and the ones done against us, can be forgiven, as well as understood. In the New Heaven and New Earth they will ultimately not even come to mind, the hurts pains and sorrows that were done before. No flash backs, no night sweats, no more night mares, “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow or crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful.” Revelation 21:4-5 Page 24 Oh come and let us adore him, Christ the Lord, “Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Luke 12:323. My heart is an open book; it yearns to come from within, that part of me that can never be told, by mere language alone to their verbal hearers. Because one has to not only have spiritual eyes that can see, but spiritual ears that can hear. But “Alas,” one is able to write these thoughts and prayers down, with the history of my victories and experiences. These words I have written by hand, and then typed, it brings it all back to life in vivid detail to me, as though it happened yesterday and continues to still happen again. “Remember this,” those who have ears to hear, it is not the individual words that matter so much, but the thought or the logon, behind the words. My tongue and pen fail me, because of the constraints of time, paper and ink, and can only be understood by “The Spirit,” of which I am writing these words. What I Am able to write, is more then just strokes of the pen, like an artist that is dabbing on a canvas, I am building a big picture, and that is what, I want you to see. I am alone and in a trance as I write these words; we have only one Lord Jesus Christ, and our Heavenly Father with the Holy Spirit. Even the words Lord Jesus Christ have the trinity imbedded in the title, Lord being the Father, Jesus being the Son and Christ being the anointing Spirit, which the word Messiah means translated “Anointed ” as with oil, which is one of the symbols of “The Holy Spirit”. What more do we need now but to have the fellowship with all the Saints that went before, and that will come after. Along with the heavenly host of Angels Apostles, Elders and our neighbors and family and friends on earth. All inclusive in the Body of Christ, that is one with The Father and Spirit, all in perfect harmony, like a huge Heavenly Orchestra with every sort of melody, harmony and nobody out of tune. Except for those who do not want to play, and are cast out by the Great Conductor, to polish the instruments of the redeemed. When all else fails in this life, even when our most beloved temporary or permanent family on earth collapses or is divided, our Heavenly and Spiritual Family is ever with us, and that’s the most important word of comfort, family and knowledge for us all. “Oh give thanks to The Lord for His perfect word of peace, knowledge and Union in Christ,” we are one in The Spirit. Page 25 I want to venture back to my spiritual narrative of my spiritual odyssey into the written realms of pictures of long ago places and long ago times, but still as real as the countries themselves, and the people who though, some have gone to be with The Lord and others, who are still here like me are still waiting for the fulfillment and continuation of the great spiritual road of life, and the journey that we all are traveling on together, some going one way on the road of life and others going the opposite way. (Like Faulkner, I am practicing a paragraph long sentence, not even Microsoft Word Document corrected me, ha ha, ho ho!) Soaring or flying in these ethereal realms it’s hard to come down and just narrate again sometimes... I want to stay here, in that realm, tomorrow is another day, there is music playing, that seems almost unbelievable, made in heaven, but played on earth. I am listening to my radio, stereo, and I do not recall such power, and glory in music, as I am now listening to, Richard Strauss, domestic symphony opus number something can’t recall but the music is awesome, beautiful! (Didn’t quite make a paragraph long sentence, did I) As you can see, I am writing these pages like a love letter to trusted friends, who know the beauty and glory of the scriptures, or who need to be inspired or who need the assurance of God’s forgiving Grace, from guilt and the condemnation of the heart. Ask Christ to come into your heart and ask him for the assurance of sins paid for and forgiven, and to walk in the power of The Spirit. He will not fail you, even if others do, He will never leave you nor forsake you, if you trust in Him. Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is to come. Revelation 4:9; there is the number three again. “Oh come let us adore Him, Christ The Lord”, as someone hath said in the Christmas song. It is done, finished, on the cross. Come and let the Lord search our hearts to see if there is any wicked way in us. Let us speak to the Lord in whatever words of love, come from our mouths. He understands us, King David said “…I am so troubled that I cannot speak” Psalms 77:4. Yet did not the Lord hear him, even then when. The scriptures teach that “the Holy Spirit” intercedes for us, with groaning that are too deep to be uttered, or even articulated. (Romans 8:26) Does not God the Father know and hear with ears that are not made of flesh. Page 26 Oh that our eyes would be opened, to see. Not just our fleshly eyes, but the minds eye also. That is, our spiritual perception and vision to understand beyond even our simple human reasoning, when it conflicts with Gods word. When all is said and done, believe what is unbelievable to the material senses and ask God for wisdom and spiritual insight, peace, and tranquility that passes all human understanding, and above all, to see your way down the darkest paths. With only God’s word as you light, and the bear foot prints of the prophets in the dust before you, as you walk down the valley of the shadow of death. They could see what was really real and eternal, and not just temporal and corruptible. Oh don’t you just feel like shinning with the light of truth, about the things unseen but are everlasting. Things such as faith, love and kindness, and those things that enable, and empower us not to reach INTO THE FLESH WHEN PROVOKED. It is virtually impossible to take you back in my memories an and experiences without being inspired again. Transcending time and space, to spiritually be there again, and yet be in the now, blest and blessed. As Ken and I reached the coast of Sweden we then boarded a train and traveled south to Stockholm. We passed by a city called Kristianstad where I was born some twenty five years earlier. By the time this hand written portion of my manuscript is finished, it will be a sort of silver jubilee of a very special period in my life my youth and golden age period of ministry. But the best is yet to come; we don’t know to what extent the gifts we have, until we begin to use them. I was born on a Sunday that means something to me, its special when it corresponds with the name of the city I was born in, Kristianstad. We arrived in Stockholm to find a city like I have never seen before. My first visit to Sweden was through Gothenburg to the North West of Stockholm. With my pregnant wife Becky and my mother Ritva. On our way to Finland, for the first time. I especially remember how clean the Swedish Airline SAS was, how pristine, and the stewardess was so beautiful and blond, if I can remember. The food was great, fantastic, and we got a great rate from what I remember also, by flying standby. When we landed I realized where strawberry blonds originally came from, apparently the Vikings used to raid Scotland and Ireland not far to Page 27 the South of Gothenburg, and took brides with red hair, to mix with the primarily blond Scandinavians. From Gothenburg we traveled by train to east coast of Sweden, and then by ferry across the Baltic to Vassa, with just a short ride to Jurva. My wife was about three or four months pregnant with our son Michael Elijah, the train ride was pretty rough on her. Stockholm is like something out of a fairy tale, clean like a city I have ever seen before. Not a scrape of paper on the ground, so to speak. A city that was never bombed during the war, so still had the fairy tale Old World reddish brick structures. Streets so narrow, in the Old Town Section, that you could reach out and touch the walls on both sides, in some places. The tall church steeples, the magnificently chiseled features of the people, the crisp clean air, and a whole new world for me. When Ken and I arrived in Stockholm, on our way from Finland, we contacted a Finnish minister and ministered in one of his meetings. Then we made contact with a Christian Ministry called “MARANATHA”. “What a ride, what a trip what an odyssey, what an interesting group of people. The word Maranatha is from the New Testament which is related to the coming of the Lord Jesus, in a judgment context. Maranatha Ministry Church and Hotel is a sort walk from the train station. They are a contemporary Christian Ministry of primarily young people, in their twenties like Ken and I were. Maranatha operated out of a hotel building which operated like a hostel and they put Ken and I up for free, while we ministered with them, and too them. I don’t quite remember how we met them, it was street knowledge, we were looking for a place to stay and somehow found this ministry. The street scene was fantastic in Stockholm, it was the first time I had ever seen a street devoted just for pedestrian traffic. We might have met them there singing on walking street, or most likely we heard about them at the train station, when we were asking someone there, where we could check into a room or bed. I do remember on one of my journeys through Stockholm, seeing a fantastic English street singing group, making a lot of money, with what seemed like a hundred people gathered around them. However we met them, what a blessing, what a confirmation or affirmation, that we were on a great voyage, and that the Captain Jesus, was at the Helm of the Ship. We were walking on water; we had no prior contacts in these cities we were entering other then basic logistics. Page 28 We immediately identified ourselves into world view and ministry I remember especially Arnold Arnes, the Chief Minister of this commune of Jesus People, and they were waging a spiritual non-violent guerilla type style war, against evil forces in government and high and low places. These were truly a revolutionary people, in touch with the people on the street. They would sing out doors, in doors, everywhere and even over the air with a benign pirate radio station. I remember talking to Arnes, while he had his shirt off with one or two beautiful women attending him and giving him a chair message, on his large imposing body. I showed him a news article about ministering in Finland on my second journey from Finland to work with Maranatha in Stockholm. He then pulled out a huge a stack of newspaper articles mostly about their pirate radian station, and it and how it struck again in the city of Stockholm, and elsewhere In Southern Sweden I presumed. On this second missionary journey to Sweden afore mentioned concerning the radio station. It was used to get their Christian music and message out, because the government wouldn’t let them go on the air legally. Due to restrictions on freedom of religion and church state issues, dominated by the State Lutheran Church and so on. So called pirate radio stations were pretty common in Europe at the time, including rock and roll type and political stations. The second time I was there, I had another church member with me from San Anselmo named David Penland. He stayed behind and worked and lived with Maranatha for some time, before coming back home after briefly returning to. David used to attend a church ion Colorado called Happy Church; he also received training and worked with a street ministry called Agape Force He helped work on a school they were establishing in a large building they apparently bought, on a hill on the outskirts of Stockholm. I remember driving with them to the location; the driver had the radio station in his brief case in the back seat of the car. It was about the size of a citizens band radio transceiver, to my surprise. They told me they move it around so that they wouldn’t be caught with it. At the school location they gathered outside and ran an antenna way up a tree, and began to transmit. What a sensation it caused apparently, because of the stack of newspaper articles I saw in relation to it. Ken wasn’t with me on my return to Sweden, but was there with me when we broke through the ice, and made contact with this most unconventional group. Ken and I ministered in their Sunday Service at the hotel shortly after arriving, and ministered with them on Walking Street with their music group. I remember especially five Christian soldiers that David and I worked with witnessing and singing our way to the Promised Land, bringing people with us as we went. Page 29 It was all so searel, thinking back and trying to remember these two missionary journeys to Stockholm. The first time again being with Ken Hopkins, on our ground breaking entry into this city, and meeting and ministering with the Maranatha Church and Ministry. Then this second missionary journey with David Penland, which resulted with him staying behind and ministering with them. It’s like a dream, hard to separate the two journeys. It’s like looking at two mountains tops from a distance. With both looking side by side, where in reality they were miles from each other. It has all blended in my mind, to be one event in the whole, with many more such experiences to come, over the ten times that I have traveled to these and other foreign lands. Someday I would like to read an account of David’s experiences with Maranatha, and his subsequent return to Finland with a group of Christians. I remember one thing he told me, about how gracious the Finns were to him, and was even in a Sauna with some Christian Sisters and Brothers, with bathing suits on of course. My mind will drift back and forth at times, weaving a basket or tapestry of experiences, which will form a bowl, or picture, a beautiful picture, of people and experiences in their youth, and primes of their lives, both experiencing and living a dream. We were in our twenties, most of the people we could relate to the most, were in the same age category. I will never forget sitting on that green grassy knoll, while Brothers and Sisters wired and turned on their little Christian radio station while singing and praising The Lord, in front of their newly located and beautiful Bible School site. Somewhere in the green and beautiful world of another country, as dusk began to approach. What a memory, what excitement and enthusiasm what bravery and boldness, what a format able religious force to content with. For the people of Stockholm and Sweden altogether. I will never forget the amount of people on Walking Street, and the opportunity to be out there was life and witness. Page 30 When I was in Finland I thought of all the petty conflicts that were going on in my own County of Marin. In the Youth Revival Jesus People Community that I was a Pastor of and Evangelist. I attended a Black Church before becoming a pastor, which became a focus of interracial fellowship under the leadership of pastor/Evangelist Reverend Fred Small. That part of the late sixties early seventies revival was great. The part that got down right mean at times, was the jealousy that sprung up from a group of seminary students who could not understand at first how a person that was not part of their original community, could do the things that I could do. I felt like a new born baby with child like faith, a Bob Dylan, so to speak now, a leader of a movement. Who was getting beaten up all the time, every time I did something new at the time. I got criticized when I started street preaching by being was accused of screaming or yelling in public. When I began pasturing after we started Sunday Morning Services to accommodate the people we were began to reach, in a rented auditorium, I was eventually scorned or back bitten. When I began preaching and teaching about exorcism and demonology I was verbally accosted at my first Christian friends wedding by the performing minister. Yet through all this I survived and prospered, with all my critics eventually following in my footsteps. When I began to listen to Reverend William Braham tapes, the same minister sent or influenced my first Christian friend to confront me in my apartment. Family members began to question me about my sanity, even Jesus’ own brothers and sisters thought he had lost his mind and tried to grab him in Jerusalem, who could have known. If they did this in a green tree, what will happen in a dry, crucifixion no doubt. There is no way you can go foreword, without resistance, It’s the name of the game. Leadership demands that the leader becomes the spear point of the army, and first to be pierced if necessary. Only through the risk of sacrificial blood, can victory or glory be accomplished. Other wise one must stay at home, and keep the home fires burning, to use a military analogy. Maybe this is my final justification, my final word on the subject, of harassment persecution and judgment. Maybe I have the last word, maybe the first shall be last and the last first, it all comes around again. I remember the thing that a fellow minister did to me, by departed older brother and our little congregation that hurt me the most. A neighboring pastor started a Christian book store, and behind it he had his office. All the Christians had to come to the book store because it was the only one in the county. When another one tried to open this minister ended up buying them out. I remember him with these bookshelves in his arms from the book store that went under. He wrote many books, the first book was about homosexuality and Christianity, and he lured away our organ player and most prominent member, with a promise of an office if he left our little Church. This organ player had started a ministry while a member of our congregation to reach out to homosexuals called Brother Frank Ministries. He being in that lifestyle for some twenty years after his Church of Christ Pastor introduced him to homosexuality while a young organ player. One of our members Mike Payton worked for him and his live in lover and partner. After Mike came to the lord in one of our Friday night dinner meetings, Frank Worthen began to notice a change in his life. Frank eventually became despondent and was seriously consider suicide. Due to his age and inability to attract young men to engage in sex with. Michael had the keys to the seminary chapel where we met on Sundays, and took him in a prayed with him to rededicate his life to the Lord. Frank eventually came to our Sunday morning service, with his head cocked in his hand, like he was bored, tired or sleeping. Afterwards we asked Michael, if he enjoyed the service, and Michael said yes. “Well lo and behold”, he came again, and again and eventually became our organ player and a deacon in our church. "What a man", he was so generous with his time, money, talent and goods from his store which he owned called Black Market import and export, the largest in Marin County. He and Michael together spear headed a thrift store for the Church, and started the inventory with surplus goods from his Import Export store called, The Black Market. Frank traveled internationally collecting and buying goods for his store, especially in Asia, where he eventually years later spent time as a missionary in the Philippians. his store was the largest import export business in Marin County. One day Frank came to me and told me a ministry that he had started, to reach the homosexual community for Christ. he named it Brother Frank Ministry. He put a add in the paper and sent free cassettes out to anyone that inquired, with his testimony how he became free in Christ. He asked me if he could play his tapes on our Church Radio program fours times, once a week. He was so very resident about asking, because he didn’t want anyone in the church to be offended. For he had not made it openly public, that he was in the homosexual lifestyle yet. This was the beginning of what would eventually become the largest ministry in the world, to reach the homosexual community for Christ. I had the privilege of being the first person to put Frank Worthen’s message on the air. Page 32 Later on he would be on national television talk shows like for instance, Phil Donohue, and so on. On another day, some time later, Frank had a dream in which he felt the Lord wanted him to contact Kent Philpot, a neighboring pastor, whose office was behind the Church Bookstore. Unbeknown to Frank was that Kent was working on his first book on Christianity and homosexuality, called The Third Sex. This was a message from God, be later on Frank told me that he also had another dream, that I was his elder. Kent was ecstatic no doubt about this miracle of Frank contacting him, after being in the lifestyle of the people Kent was trying to reach, with his book through the Church Community. Kent put Franks Worthen's Ministry and the way toy contact Frank, in this new book. What a break for both Kent and Frank, this would be the beginning of a long working relationship together. But it also would be the end of Agape Church’s and my own working relationship with Frank, due to Kent’s insistence that he quite his fellowship with our church, and work exclusively with his, and Church of the Open Door in San Rafael California. The only referral we ever got to our church in San Anselmo from the book store was a person called Leonard Childers. Someone they tried to move on, because he seemed kind of weird and not very on the ball. Leonard is one of the few, if only person from the past, as I write this, who still try's to contact me," God Bless him”! Well anyways Kent went on to do everything in his power, to gobble up our little church. We resisted, due to the fact that we needed diversity in our county of Marin, where as Kent wanted to dominate everything. He once admitted to me that he was like a bull in a China cabinet. We were never into meanness nor harshness, nor pride. Eventually the stress, pressure and the siphoning off of our members, including an attempt to persuade my brother Broink, to leave me behind and bring what was left of our church fellowship, under the Open Door umbrella. That, plus the stress of an international ministry, where I felt I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, contributed to the collapse of my family, which is a whole other story, and a whole other book. When a man can’t carry his own weight anymore, when he can’t be a man and a provider anymore, in the work that he loves the most. It is the greatest cross, that anyone can bear, but I have born it and survived, thrived and forgiven. I have learned, the hard way, that it takes seven years to forgive, but twenty years to forget. People told me after my divorce, to move on with your life, but when you have nothing to move on with, it’s just a bunch of rhetoric. I suppose he who has the last word, is the winner, if so I am a winner. Page 33 When all is said and done, I am like a ball, a world, blue green and brown, all mixed up together, spinning, rotating and swinging around the Sun, as the moon swings around me, and the solar system around the galaxy, and the galaxy around the universe, all things come back, to where they started, let’s hope and pray, that we are the same person when we return, and have become better and perfected, in the process. I just learned that Leonardo De Vinci discovered that the human heart has a vortex, the blood spins, and the heart twists like a piece of cloth wringing out the blood. I had discovered that the Universe spins, and now also discovered that the Atom spins also. Everything that goes around, comes back around eventually, in some way or form, good bad or ugly, rewards or punishments, let’s sow seeds of love, truth and forgiveness, for it will all come back to embrace us, forgive us, or punish us, so we truly punish ourselves, forgive ourselves, and Christ is the referee, judge and whipping boy for all our un forgiveness and follies. Because his father made us and his father will forgive and maintain us, if we’ll only let Him, because He gave us the gift of freewill to love Him and worship Him as a son. Or slave for him and His children, as a servant. When all is said and done, we will either be a first class citizen of The Kingdom of God, or a second class citizen. We will all be there, either in the Golden City, or outside doing all the dirty work. As Saint Paul taught in the New Testament, that in a great house, some vessels are made for honor, and some vessels are made for dishonor, you can either be a golden chalice in the hands of a King, or you can be a chamber pot, or sewer pipe. All are necessary; all will be there, which one will you be. As for me, I will be a son, and not a servant, not by my will power, but the power of the will and testament that was left me that I have to show up for, and receive. It all comes down to love or fear, will you serve out of love or fear of punishment, do you love punishment, or do you love unconditionally. Whatever we love, it will embrace us, embrace the giver of love, or embrace your punishment, the choice is yours. The reason we have suffering in this world, is so we will have a reference point, to appreciate joy. In the Garden of Eden, the forbidden fruit of the tree was of good and evil, not just Page 34 evil. We will reap what we sow, the fact that good is stronger then evil in this life, is the fact of God’s forgiveness, and the giving of His Son. The reason that Abraham is called the father of faith, is because even after God told him to sacrifice his son, he didn’t doubt or weaver. Even though God told him that his seed would be blessed through Isaac, and now was told to not only sacrifice his son like a lamb, but to offer him up as a burnt offering, believing that God would raise him back up from the ashes. Isaac like Jesus was the willing lamb, he could have fought his father and resisted, but didn’t, he even carried his own wood on his back for the sacrifice, like Jesus did on his own back, and laid his life down trusting in his father, to the very end. The end being love and resurrection from the ashes of pain, which will never last forever, only goodness will. In every dark night, there is a spot of white, in every bright light, there is a dark spot. Evil is the imbalance of the two, whose finger will tip the scale. There is no such thing as total evil in mankind, nor total good, only in God there is total or ultimate good. Some would say that you cannot survive ultimately on just good, or ultimate good. That evil is stronger then good, Well Satan thought that also, and resisted, and lost, but even in the bible written by the ultimate good, states that make no rivaling accusations against him. I am starting to spin, into a wheel, traveling, not staying motionless, but moving, with tears in my eyes of happiness, bitter sweet, like the name of Mary, the earthy mother of Jesus, whose name means bitterness, or bitter or salty tears, tears are good, tears are bad, salt is good, salt is bad. Mariyam means salty of bitter waters, or sea. We get our word maritime, from the Latin Mare which means sea or ocean. In Heaven all tears will be wiped away by God, the Ultimate Goodness. Our English word God, comes from the Old English word good, which was spelled god. Even in Heaven, there will be tears of joy, where do you think the oceans came from? My gift of wisdom is in gear, and I am traveling down the highway, not standing still, but in motion, the prayer wheel is turning. The wheel inside the wheel, that Ezekiel the prophet witnessed. I am the wheel inside the wheel, a gear inside the Holy machinery, when I squeak; Jesus gives me the oil of the Holy Spirit. I am humming like a well built car, and maintained by the Master Mechanic. Wheels do not spin in place, perceptively speaking, but all are traveling, even though the wheels inside the wheels of a car, seem to be in place, they are really traveling through time, line. Which way are you traveling, down this one way, two lane road. Page 35 When I asked Frank some time later about the second dream that he had, about me being his elder. He didn’t know quite what to say, except that began to doubt the second dream, or wasn’t sure about its interpretation? I have no doubt and thankfully Frank never ever spoke ill of me or our little church. In fact the church of the Open Door never spoke about our little church, unless it was in the negative. Or at least I have never heard anything positive about us through the leadership. There were two other churches besides our little Agape Church congregation that stated meeting on Sunday morning, after we had established ourselves for some period of time. We were an inspiration for all three other churches that began, by the same group of Southern Baptist Seminary students. In ministry there is always the temptation for jealousy and rivalry. One way to escape, is to get outside oneself and seek other greener pastures. When a church ceases its mission to reach out to the lost, it begins to try a take other member from other churches, claiming greater revelations. What greater revelation could there be, b8t to introduce people to the great revelator Jesus Christ. Saint Paul talks about those becoming desirous of teaching the law, when the love of loves the greatest lesson of them all. Going back to my original thought, back in inland, where the doors were opening and I was receiving more invitations to speak in one month, then in all my Christian ministry in Marin County. Truly a prophet is not without honor, except in his own country and his own house. Again I thought how small and petty was the strife and completion, and jealousy mixed with pride. Were the conflicts I experienced in Marin, from my fellow ministers and pears? It seems like a giant ship wreak sometimes, when a mighty galleon strikes a reef on a far away shore, and the crew has to mix with the natives, and share the basics with them again. Until another giant galleon is constructed, and the life and death process begins again, spreading the precious seeds of knowledge to the world. “Oh God, let it not have to be that way, let us steer the ships to the pleasant shores, and peaceful share that gospel of peace, to the world” Page 36 “Oh that we could all continually be in a state of love and revival, far above all the petty criticism that hurts and harms our selves and families that relay on us. When we bite and devour one another, we consume one another. Let us look back from the mountain top and realize how harmful it is to all living beings to senselessly harm one another with hurtful and fearful words. Let us pick up ourselves in The Lord and march on to our goal Zion, the beautiful City of God, as this my personal and spiritual journey takes us through the reading of this book, to Israel. Where we shall finally reach that earthly and symbolic destination of Zion CHAPTER THREE DENMARK The next country we entered was Denmark, we went an address we got in the states from a Christian Minister named Dave Malkin, who had a ministry called Action Life Ministries who we I knew in the San Fernando Valley. He had traveled here with a plane load of young people, and caused a sensation in Denmark during the Jesus Movement area. After they left the local Christians he worked with, remodeled a six story two hundred year old street front building, not far from Walking Street. Named SOLI DE GLORIA, apparently by the original owner, from the name on small stone plate on the door lentil. Here we found a band of merry men, in the Lord. Ken Hopkins and his music were so welcome, we were both so welcomed. The inside of the building was built like a super commune for Christ. Inside was a huge meeting space area redesigned by a Christian brother, who was also an architect. It was all open in the middle, at least four stories up. The architect also was a member of the commune, and he lived there also. Here we found some of the warmest Christian family, who would go to the main walking street and distribute a gospel magazine, and witness for Jesus in general. (I will never forget those experiences), as we make our way to the earthly City of God, Jerusalem. Page 37 We were invited to minister in the live-in house ministry, and head quarters of their over all ministry. We were also invited to a place called Christiania. A village within the city of Copenhagen, that was once a former military facility, or some kind of government property. We were taken to a city, within a city, where poor people, hippies, free thinkers and even a Christian ministry, had taken over a house, among a cluster of houses and buildings that were abandoned by the government. These buildings and houses were quite nice, by our standards, but had no gas or electricity. So we ministered by the warmth of Christian love and candle light, and witnessed healing miracles as we prayed for the open hearted young people that lived there after sharing our music and the word. The last I heard, not too long ago, that Christiania the abandoned military or government facility, is still occupied today in 2005, and thriving low income community.. One day while sitting, or standing in the sun light of the beautiful Walking Street. A place that banned cars like in Stockholm, and allowed only pedestrians. I was talking to a beautiful Christian brother from the House Ministry headquarters, where we were staying. He talked about his Christian magazine that we were distributing to the passer bys. When we were asked by a well dressed businessman, if we what were distributing was a Communist Newspaper? We said no “Christian,” he had on his suit a Communist party pin pinned on his lapel, underneath, where nobody could see. He said that he was a member of the Communist Party, and hated it. He went on to say that he had to be a member of The Party to do business with the country of Poland, and was not a Communist. He was a Swedish Citizen who traveled and did business in Poland, this was approximately in 1975, and he further went on to say “do you want to hear a joke, there are no Communist in Poland”, then gave a nevus laugh. He was also ashamed that to be a Swedish Citizen, and to have join he Polish Communist Party, to do business in Poland. It’s no joke about virtually no Communist is Poland; some years later I heard that ninety percent of Poles were Catholic. It’s a shame that the Polish Communist Party used America’s doctrine of Separation of Church and State, to remove the crosses from the Polish Public schools, before its eventual fall. I only regret that the man, felt he had to trade his values, to do trade in Poland. It kind of reminded me how in the book of Revelation, no man would be able to buy of sell, without the Mark of the Beast which is 666. The beasts name apparently, when translated to for instance to Hebrew roman or even Greek if I’m not mistaken, has a numeral power. Page 38 This was before the Arabic numerals that we now use, were used, for instance Roman numerals, so very name has a potential numeral value Some basically non Christians I’ve met, have tried to say the Ronald Wilson Reagan spells 666 in the past, due to the six letters in each word. I believe, because the Beast, or the Anti-Christ, as this last world ruler will be, and is called, as Saint John also said, in one of his epistles, even now there are many anti-christs. So because Babylon's like anti-Christ's are timeless, in the sense that they have always been with us, from the beginning. After Cain slew Able, a type of the first anti-Christ, or anti-anointed one. Cain built a city after he fled, which was the first type of Babylon, and whose descendant went on to built The City of Babel. So we went from the Garden of Eden, to the City of Babylon as a human race, and now with the coming of Jesus Christ we are entering the spiritual city whose builder and maker is God, a refuge from the world, and all that lies in the world, until we walk on the streets of gold, in the New Jerusalem. Abraham saw that city. He lived in that city spiritually speaking. He dwelt in Heavenly place commuting with God, his friend. He also saw the coming of Christ, when he was about to sacrifice his son, the heir of the promise, believing that God would raise him back from not only death, but from the ashes after he had burnt him on the alter, with the wood that Isaac carried on his back, like Christ caring his cross to the hill, willingly, like a willing sacrificial lamb, obedient to his father unto death, until God stopped him and said, now I know that you will not withhold anything from me. My personal theory on the number 666 is that first, it is the number of man, for God made on the sixth day. Second I believe, or have a theory, that it has a three strike element to it, a strike against each member of the Trinity, wherefore there one left to save. But I also believe, it is the numeral power of a The Antichrist, and somehow the number that is given to all who want to trade with him has a computer composite. A membership card to be memorized in the forehead, or held in ones hand, a card with a chip in it or implanted of tattooed, to be laser scanned. There is something about reducing people to a number, or numbering people that is found so offensive, and all those who promote numbering people, to be under suspicion. The Jews were tattooed with numbers forcibly. Page 39 The ultimate indignity fore and orthodox, to be tattooed. Since it is forbidden in the Old Testament, to mark your body, with the exception of having a pierced ear. King David numbered the people of Israel, and was punished for doing it. I don’t know whether he assigned a number to each person, or just wanted a census of his nation’s strength or population. I suspect the people were all given a number, corresponding with their status in life, such as a wife or warrior. However God found it to be offensive, either by the hardship at the time of having a census, or the way it was done, or by the sear humility of being reduced to a number, instead of a name. It’s interesting that census taken by Augustus Caesar caused Mary and Josef to leave Nazareth and come to Bethlehem, the city one’s ones birth, Jesus was born. It was in the winter, then it could get really cold in Bethlehem, being some two thousand feet or more above sea level, with forest and snow sometimes., it sure was a hardship, not to find an empty room at the Inn, how many people have turned, the Son of God away, and expect him to take them in. The bottom line is this; it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, then for those who trust in riches to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. When someone trusts in uncertain riches, above having faith in God to provide. It hurts some else, every one else suffers, it breaks the harmony of God’s plan and provision for all. It is a tear in the fabric of life; it is a crack in the pot of water meant for us all. Every homeless person has relatives, unless they are orphans, then God says that He will be their father, if they will only trust in him. Let us be patient and wait and never sell our principles for a piece of bread or castles in the sand, as so many have done throughout the ages. But let us remember that “The meek shall inherit the earth,” and I might add, with all its castles and glory going to Gods People. If not is this life, then in the first resurrection, when we will reign with Christ during the millennium, for a thousand years. We will inherit the last thousand years of this earth’s history. I’m starting to feel like this book is developing into a spiritual odyssey, based upon the greatest period of trumpet in my Christian ministry. This is like a dream come true to write about this journey and tie in all important events and Theology that I have learned prior, to and immediately after this journey, and to this day in October 16, 2005. What a journey for a young man, what a blessing! Page 40 While in Denmark and staying a guests in the huge beautiful Soli De Glori live in commune, and ministry. We were taken to the great stone or cement Apostolic Pentecostal Church building in Copenhagen. Where we were seated, and Ken Hopkins, my associate was asked to minister in music. I and Ken had both been asked to minister that same morning at another Pentecostal Church called Elim, at the same time Sunday Morning. We both came to this church out of respect for Soli De Glori ministry, because we were their guests, and this was their home Church. I was impressed by the huge amount of people at the Apostolic Church and the size of the building in general. At Elim Church were Ken and I only ministered briefly a few days earlier, was a store front intenerate building that led into a huge large impressive congregation room, able to seat hundreds of people. The Pastor at Elim only originally had a brief time for to minister and introduce ourselves, then asked us to come and minister on Sunday morning. There was a spirit revival and liberty at Elim, and a slightly more formal atmosphere here at the Apostolic. Probably because Elim Church more directly located downtown near walking street, and they sang outdoors after Sunday Services on walking street. After the twelve minutes or so that we originally ministered in word and song, the young, mature and energetic pastor the Church invited us back, but I was having trouble believing he was serious, just getting to Denmark, and never being here before. I had a moment of doubt, and again out of courtesy when to The Apostolic church, conflicted, just to have Ken minister alone because we always worked as a team. I thought “what good fortune from God”, to be invited to stay and minister at one ministry, and be invited to minister in another church, so soon after arriving. I usually takes a week do the ground breaking in a new city, before serious ministry begins, but we were on a whirlwind here, even the week we spent in Stockholm, was more of a ground breaking, or combination of two separate journeys there, the second coming later, no doubt our welcome was connected to David Malkin’s Ministry that proceeded. But the Elm Church invitation was out of the blue, except they new that we were staying at Soli De Glori which was a good reference. Even though Ken and I have always worked as a team, I was willing to take a back seat. Then the service began, it was quite and the message was about communion, if my memory and notes serves me Page 41 right. Communion services tend to be more solemn remembering the terrible suffering of Jesus on the cross, and the blood he shed and paid for all of our transgressions, it is only a fitting memorial and remembrance of that price paid. We all want to be remembered and both mourned and rejoiced over through history by our families. How much more should we remember that day that God the Son gave his life, in the presence of his father and Holy Spirit, for the sins of the world. All of a sudden during the beginning of the service, I began to feel The Holy Spirit moving in my heart. My heart started pounding, my hands started getting sweaty, I felt the way someone feels when they have a prophecy. But I knew I was not having a prophecy or message for the congregation I was in. But The Lord was telling me to leave the congregation, and go to Elim Church where we both had an invitation to minister. The problem was how we were going to gracefully bow out of the service, without being rude or insulting to our host, and congregation. I finally couldn’t hold the feeling and the witness of the Spirit in, any longer. I knew that Elim Church had already started its Sunday morning service also, at the same time that we were here. I turned to Ken and shared with him what I felt the Lord was telling me, he understood perfectly even though he was invited to sing in a large congregation. We then began to discreetly leave the service from somewhere in the back of the congregation. We were in a revival mode and revival wasn’t happening that Sunday morning, the service was quite normal and not in need of any special attention. Routine might even be the proper word to express our feelings, but you never know under the surface, what revival might be brewing in a congregation. As we exited out from the back of the church, through the double doors and great Romanesque pillars of the church, sure enough out host noticed us leaving, even though we were sitting towards the back of the congregation. He asked us what was wrong, and reiterated that Ken was scheduled to play, we poetized and amazingly we were able to convey to him that the Lord was speaking to us, about talking the invitation to minister at Elim. I knew that we had only a brief window of opportunity to catch a taxi cab and rush towards downtown, from somewhere in the semi-suburbs. The timing Page 42 seemed impossible first to flag down a cab, then to get there in time to minister. We were counting on the congregation singing to last long enough at Elim, to slide in just in time to minister in music as well as the written and spoken word and pray for the sick. The feeling that the Lord was speaking to me, was so strong, that I went ahead in spite of all the obstacles and doubts. Sure enough, we got to the church, in spite of the downtown traffic, with originally maybe only a twenty minute window of opportunity to get there, and low and behold the congregation singing was not only over, but the pastor had his head down with the congregation, giving the closing prayer, that’s how late we were. As we went foreword, lo and behold we found two seats available, in the front row of the congregation, while everybody’s heads were bowed, we slipped foreword and sat down. Now I was really praying, when he lifted his head up, would he call us foreword to minister, even though it seemed like this was his closing prayer. Was this the Lord’s leading or just mine. My heart was in my throat, so to speak, or was it my faith that was being challenged. “Lo and behold,” he looked up, saw us sitting in the front row saw us sitting there, and called us up to minister. It was a miracle, from there on our faith was excitedly increased, that we were on God’s mission and He would honor His word to all those who obey and seek to do His will. The fields are white and ready to be harvested, pray that the Lord of the fields sent in laborers (Luke 10:2). That is a prayer that will always be answered, all God asks is that one does not do it for personal pride, inordinate riches or lust. I remember on a subsequent return visit to Copenhagen, on another mission and in another year. I went to the same church and went out with a street performing choir. During the singing a drunk young Asian came up to the group on walking street, and started railing the primarily young women singing, and crying out loud that he had the spirit, waving a bottle of alcohol in the air and wearing a military type shirt. Well I watched, as a hundred people or so stopped to see what the commotion was, or weather that man would succeed, or be dealt with by the Lord. Up to that point nobody had stopped to listen to the music. I suppose it was routine for the choir or group to sing every Sunday afternoon. But now a large crowd instantly formed, to watch the drama, and they weren’t disappointed. I also was in awe of the singers, their youth beauty and boldness. Page 43 All of a sudden, the man was forced to his knees before the young men and women singing. I was near the edge of the large singing group, what I witnessed was astonishing. He started crying, forced to his knees by the unseen power of God, this man who dared mock His people, was made to kneel before them crying. Some of the young women went to him and began ministering to him, while the crowd like me, were in total surprise and awe, words find it hard to describe sometimes. but as many miracles as I’ve seen, I am still amazed when I see another one before my very eyes. God was not mocked, He came to the defense of those who were glorifying His name, even though I felt more like a spectator at this time, yet I was still in the group, and singing and praising The Lord with them. After the young women took him behind the choir line to further comfort of minister to him. I came up to him to see what I could do, and witness further this miracle, he then looked at me a man instead of a women and seemed to snap out of his daze and took off . Page 44 CHAPTER FOUR GERMANY We found that usually we would have to leave the country or city, to the next destination on Mondays. Due to the fact that we needed to familiarize ourselves with the next country, make contact wash laundry, find grocery store and find a hotel or place to stay, before the next Sunday service. By then we are refreshed and ready to minister again, after getting necessary logistics out of the way. Just to find a store or even a place to do laundry is quite a challenge, in a foreign and unfamiliar country or environment. If I’ve been to a foreign city or country before, the logistics are much simpler and I am able to start ministering almost right away. Trust me, it takes a week just to find out where you are and settle down. I know I am repeating myself on this point, but it can’t be emphasized enough, just to make contact with a local church, is a challenge, when looking for an open door and invitation to minister. It usually starts with being invited to give my testimony, then after that initiation the invitations start flowing. The hardest part, and the easiest part is giving that testimony, after being so spiritually pumped up from the last country or city that It’s hard and tempting to be proud, and hard to consent sent to merely giving your testimony of your travels, and how Christ came into your heart. After teaching and preaching your heart out to willing and giving and receiving audiences. But it has to be done the humble road leads to greatness and gratitude, everyone wants to be an emperor a conqueror, what people are looking for are true servants of The Lord. Meanwhile Kenneth and I boarded a train in Copenhagen, after a week of ministry and making contacts. This was our first venture into Demark, now Germany lay at our doors steps. I have never been to Germany before, this was another great adventure. We sat in the first class coach section with our Eurail pass, which we could only buy in America at the time, before we left. Our plan was to sleep over night in the couch, with its seats that fold down into beds, to save hotel money, and wake up in our next destination of Munich Germany. My only contact in Germany was a group I meet on a ship called the Apollonia in the Page 45 middle of the Mediterranean Sea on a Sunday morning, where these German Christian traveling pilgrims to Israel, from the Munich YMCA had gotten permission to have a Sunday morning Service on the ship, and announced it over the public address system. I had met the leader a day or so earlier on board, and a member or two of the tour group. I was apologetically assured that the YMCA in Germany, or which he was secretary of the Munich branch, was not secularized, like ones he visited in The United States. We both understood the need to be Born Again, and not just have the name Christian tagged on you. I was traveling deck class, fifty dollars all the way from Athens Greece, to Haifa Israel, with stop over in briefly in Ephesus Turkey, where we toured the famous ruins and place where Saint John was exhaled to the Island of Patmos, where he wrote the Book of Revelation. Also I was shown, or pointed to a small building on a hill, where Mary was said to have ascended to Heaven, not really knowing the story, or her grave ever being found, to my knowledge, am open to the tradition. I was shown the site of one of the seven wonders of the Ancient world, The Temple of Diana, or what was left of it, foundation stones in a swamp like setting, is all I remember. I also remember traveling for what seemed three miles on a bus, over flat scrubby and dusty plains, until arriving in Ephesus, which was once a port city near the mouth of the river meander. But due to deforestation, the river silt filled the harbor for miles outward over the thousands of years. We were nowhere near water anymore, “what an environmental lesson”. Another site I was shown was the ruins of an ancient church, called The Church of Saint John, where his grave is said to be, under the church. It was quite interesting and moving, and fit in with the story of Mary, to a certain degree, because Jesus on the cross gave charge of his mother, to Saint John, so t stands to reason that he brought her to Ephesus with him. How the grave of such an important women, has never been found, to my knowledge, is such a mystery. After walking down the ancient main cities ruins, which were likened to the ruins of Ancient Corinth. Where I spent a week with John Newton, on my first ground breaking journey to Greece. I found ancient Corinth to be much more marvelous and intriguing, in its own way. Greece is such a more cosmopolitan and happy place, where as Ephesus was remote, distant, in the past, yet real. as I stood in the ancient amp there, where Saint Paul and Silas were dragged before the raging mob, incited by Demetrius the silversmith, who made idols of Diana, I found myself saying out loud “Great is Jesus Christ,” whereas the people yelled, “Great is Diana of Ephesus.” Who won that great debate! history is very clear. Page 46 So here my mind drifted back, to the beginning and end, drifting wandering floating through all these mental, supernatural and spiritual experiences. Tying all things together into this tapestry, a carthorse with a story. Now back to the ship, drifting in the past, yet coming up to it again. John Newton and I were asked to minister, in the middle of this ocean, who would have expected and invitation here, we heard them sing, we spoke of our mission and adventure, we made friends, then I met them again on Mount Tabor in Israel, what a divine reunion. So here I am again, on a train, traveling towards destiny, not knowing what awaits me. Other then the letter I wrote to the YMCA secretary, acknowledging our voyage, and coming together at last, full circle, another miracle of traveling to the Holy Land. I did not wait for a reply, from my letter, because we were traveling very quickly now, I just knew we had to go through Germany. As our train went past Hamburg in the middle of the night, sleep was taking its effect; I could see the skyline up close, not much else. When I awoke, we were somewhere in the country side, beautiful country not at all flat like Finland, southern Sweden Denmark and even the northern Germany where we had passed the night before. All of a sudden two German businessmen came into the cabin, we put up the seats and one of them opened the train window for some fresh air. With a slight look of who were these people, after exchanging polite proper greetings they proverbially woke up and got animated, telling us things as were rolled along the sunny blue skied an green hilled day with patches of forest. We were traveling onward south east when one of the businessmen pointed to a long fence that divided Germany from east to west, he was disgusted. We soon came to an amazing part of Germany with its Marin County like scenery; I saw the river winding around fairy tale looking castles and forest covered knolls. I was the closest thing I have ever seen to the county I lived in, it was the Rhineland. We eventually rolled into a large modern train station while the sun was still shinning, in Munich Germany. I remember seeing the largest newest electric train engine that I have ever seen. Little did I know that the summer Olympics were to be held there, it seemed like in just months or within the year. Page 47 We got off the train in the middle of town and went straight for the German YMCA. It was all so very beautiful and clean, the city and the YMCA. We checked into beautiful clean room and contacted the secretary of the YMCA. He had been expecting us, but we were at least a week or so late. He joked about Pentecostal timing, and immediately drew us into their world, and hospitality. He introduced me to a well built tall blond haired German Christian brother, that would be our guide friend and translator during our stay there. We began to minister the first night we were there, at their beautiful modern coffee house and restaurant on the first floor of the YMCA, with a street view. Ken was asked to sing and I was asked to speak and introduce myself. I remember one Christian Brother had a drink or three, due to the fact that they served beer there and wine I suppose. But he was very friendly, I just wasn’t accustomed to the thought that YMCA’S served all these things, but I was learning. Nevertheless it was a meeting, Ken’s music was appreciated, and so was my presence and presentation. They had regular fellowship meetings in the restaurant, and of course it was a way to evangelize the public also. Later on we walked around down town Munich which was only a few blocks away to Main Street. I was amazed how clean and beautiful the city was, the people dressed so perfect, even the hippies in Europe had custom cut hair. But to my surprise, right down town where everything was spotless, was a huge billboard with entirely nude women on it. It seemed out of place and in congress with the whole atmosphere, but then again this is Europe. I saw similar scenes, on a smaller scale right in my mother’s home village of Tinusjurva Jurva. Then again on a back street in Stockholm, and even more in the porno capital of Europe, at the time, Copenhagen Denmark. When crossing the border to Germany, officers wearing crisp green uniforms boarded the train and asked passengers if they were carrying pornography into Germany. Child porn is apparently the most controversial obviously, which is abundant in Scandinavia. Also literally every supermarket in Finland for instance has nude women on covers of magazines right out in the open. Well that’s Finland, Sweden, Denmark where nudity is no big deal, especially with sauna’s being so common and communal bathing is understood, even with children and entire families. But child pornography or more explicit sex with children is the worse. Page 48 Remember what Jesus taught concerning offending those little ones that believe in him, it would be better for great millstone to be tied to that ones neck and cast into the deepest sea. (Matthew 18:6). We were taken on a tour the next day, and witnessed the Great Arch where Hitler paraded his child killing brown shirts through the city, before he attempted his coupe and with to prison with his right hand man in tow, wearing lederhosen in prison, becoming a popular folk hero and writing his autobiography Mien Kopf. We were also shown the bar he used to drink in, next to the Arch. We were then taken to Walking Street and Ken played his Guitar and I did my preaching. There is a picture a www.tvbn.com if you click around enough. I eventually made a black and white cloth sign, to put on my back that said “JESUS SAVES”. We were taken to English park, where we also preached and Ken sang, we have a photo also, that will be put on the web. English Park now today in 2005 has a nude sun bathing section in it also, but back then it didn’t. Somewhere along the line, we met with the rest of the troupers who sang, witnessed and ministered where ever people would listen. Chief among them was a beautiful healthy looking German Christen girl, who joined us in our evangelism on the streets, I think her name was Bergit or Brigit. Pictures will be available, and at one point a beautiful Nun came up to us just to smile and show her appreciation for what we were doing in public, especially with my black and white sign on my back a picture of her beauty in her full habit, will be available. Things are kind of a blur in my mind these many years later, as far as timing, sequence and chronological order of these events, but the images are clear. We met another Christian Brother who heard the phrase “JESUS PEOPLE” and saw the words on my back “JESUS SAVES”. My, now that I think about it some thirty years later, with the help of my hand written manuscript from 1995, that sign was very effective. As you will learn later on in this typed 2005 journal when we get to Greece. When I was writing my hand written manuscript, I was in a trance, or spell as the word Gospel means, good spell. I had to have been, to remember the things I did, so many years before. In fact the entire twelve hundred page manuscript. was written, while in a trance like state. I do not mean to scare anyone, this type written manuscript is a little harder to write, the trance like state comes and goes, and in huge places, I write freely from the original manuscript in the sense, that I drift off into a whole new book. In other words, I am using the original manuscript, as a sort of a template. Future generations can compare between the two, such as in the millennium and read between the lines, as history is being made. Hello to all my friends on the internet, that will be reading, the history that we made together. Page 49 Well back to the Christian Brother that was so excited about seeing Ken and I in front of the only McDonalds we saw in Europe. His name is Klaus Publichousen, that is as close as I can come to remembering how to spell his name at this time. He became a tremendous friend, took us to his chicken ranch and Christian live-in house ministry on the rural outskirts of Munich. He was the leader of the Teen Challenge Ministry that operated the ranch and ministry, to help addicts get off drugs and on to the love of Jesus Christ. He was a handsome man, who looked like an English aviator captain, tall with dark blond hair and a wisp of a movie star mustache that looked like Errol Flynn. A few years later he came to California and visited and ministered to us in San Anselmo, a picture will be available on the net www.tvbn.com. I look forward to meeting him again, after all these decades. The Christian Brother who translated for Ken and I as we ministered on the streets and park, took us to a second YMCA hotel or hostel located in Munich. There in the dormitory where one can stay without renting a whole room, was a beer machine. I thought that was funny, remembering that Munich is the beer capital of the world not only Germany. Beer was so common that nobody ever really got drunk, at least not in public, except for one German young man, who was obviously drunk in public. But very friendly and spoke with a thick America G.I. accent, so that told me right away where he learned to over drink. Although I don’t remember meeting any American soldiers, I knew there were NATO Bases all around Germany. No where did I see alcohol abuse in Germany at all, in general. But in Sweden and Finland I did, Scandinavians and Finns can’t hold their liquor, as well as a Germans. But I hear when Germans in Bavaria have a party such as Oktoberfest, they could drink you under the table. I almost got slugged in Sweden by a drunk, when I tried to break up a fight between two drunks. In Finland I’ve seen vomit on the floor on a train, and people vomiting on the boat to Sweden, this would be unheard of in Germany. These are just observations I have made, not judgments. Page 50 I myself had a couple of beers on the boat to Sweden from Finland on a subsequent visit and mission there, it seemed like everyone on the boat this time, was passed out, or asleep. This boat left from Helsinki, so it was an over niter to Stockholm, and many people decided to just sleep anywhere they could, everywhere, on the floors, couches seats and as far as I’m concerned on the luggage racks, and it was a large vessel. The only people that where sitting upright, there were my friend David Penland, a group of singing Christians who were sitting at a table, sober and awake. When you’re traveling deck class, it’s hard to judge people for drinking beer, just to go to sleep. Many years later one of these type of ships sank on the way to Sweden, with hundreds of people drown when the bow hatch of the ship worked open by storm waves. The place where they drive the cars, into the boat. It could have been the very ship that we were on, there were hundreds, and if not a couple of thousand people on board this ship we were on. Another place that we ministered was at a charismatic service held in Saint Boniface Church in Munich. I can’t remember how we got the invitation, but I think it was Klaus that told us about it. Klaus was Assembly of God Pentecostal Christian in his beliefs, so it would be logical for him to take us to this meeting. We were asked to minister, it was a great privilege, and we basically gave our testimony, and sang. The Church was gigantic, with two towers that were the largest in Munich, from my memory. We climbed to the top of one of the towers, and I could see the snow covered Alps, were Hitler looked down on his twisted Kingdom, in the Wolves Lair Retreat. I remember vaguely the face and persona of the charismatic minister at the church, we were not in the main sanctuary, but met in a smaller side but spacious area of the church. The minister was kind, I almost remember Klaus being with us, people are so kind when you’re traveling and spreading the Good News, of Jesus Christ. We are treated with such respect basically everywhere we went, what an experience when you’re doing something right, something good. I was talking to a charismatic catholic priest at the meeting, and I gave him my card withy my address in San Anselmo. He was impressed with the name San Anselmo, which he said was a Saint Anselm, he gave me his card also, it was a touching moment of peace, warmth and joy. Page 51 Ken and I also went to the top of the tower at the Olympic Village, where there sat a restaurant. It was and still is a huge tower, overlooking the entire Olympic Village, plus the horizon with the Bavarian Alps. I remember seeing a man made mountain, from the tower at the village, made of the rubble from the allied bombings of Munich, it was landscaped. But the reality of what that mountain or hill was made of, and the size of it struck home and the reality of sin and its consequences and on top of the mountain stood a great white cross. The village had tent like structures of modern design, it had not yet opened for the Olympic Games, so it was all brand new and untouched. I believe it may have been Klaus that took us up there, to see the view. When then took a trip to the site of the Dacha concentration camp, which was a short light rail ride away from Munich, like taking a commuter train. Makes you wonder how nobody knew, when so close to Munich. When we arrived for the day trip, we came to a little tiny village train stop. We saw a group of young teenage looking Germans, sitting and waiting at the train stop, just hanging around. They were well dressed and clean, like everything in Germany was. So I asked Ken to play his guitar for them, minister to them in music. We have a photo which will be available on www.tvbn.org in the future, if not already now. Click around, or just type in my name Peter Romanowsky on any search engine with the name Munich attached. The young people listened politely to the words of Ken Hopkins in song, and then we moved on to the former concentration camp site. I vaguely remember the wrought iron sign over the entrance which stated something like “WORK AND LIVE”. It’s all a little blurry to my memory, other then the sign still stands. Most of the barracks that they kept the prisoners in are gone and destroyed, other the sites where the barracks stood. The was one that was either kept intact, or recreated exactly like the rest of them were. The was even a barrack where they kept just ministers and priests, long gone. As I walked into the barrack I read the signs, one of them especially caught my attention, explaining what went on in there. Page 52 For instance no matter how starved or beaten or hard the occupants had to do slave labor, they were expected to keep the barracks spotless. If even a piece of lint was on the floor when the guards came to inspect, someone was beaten. This was part of their torturer and hate, towards fellow human beings. It was a moving experience, the barrenness of the all wooden bunks. From there we went to the museum of torture and horror, pictures of human experiments on living souls, one man had the entire top of his head taken off at the skull, with his brain exposes, while still alive and conscious. I saw Hitler’s face scratched off of the only picture of him, with some ones fingernails. I saw the wooden rods that prisoners were beaten with; I saw the wall where they were shot. I saw the ovens where they were burned, sometimes while still alive. I saw flowers for the departed in the mouth of one of the ovens. I saw a field, or marsh where countless people’s ashes were thrown, with a huge Star of David planted in the marsh made of granite. I saw the Catholic Chapel dedicated to the Christians also that lost their lives in the Concentration Camp. I left with a feeling that if people go too far to the left or to the right, it all ends up in the same place, human imbalance and totalitarianism with inhuman consequences. “According to the sentence of the law which they shall tell thee, thou shalt do: thou shalt not decline from the sentence which they shall show thee, to the right hand, nor to the left.” (Deuteronomy 17:11) We left Germany after a week of success, thanks to meeting the German pilgrims to the Holy Land. We left at night so that we could sleep over and wake up in Switzerland, on our way to our next adventure and mission. The train to Switzerland is also the train that takes migrant workers back to Italy and beyond. The accommodations were sparse compared to all the other trains we had been on, wooden interiors with not much padding. I had the impression that these were the accommodations of people that did not make much money in this country, or were broke and going home in non luxury couches. I also had the impression that this midnight type express was really cheap, so people could leave the country to there homelands south and beyond, without being a burden to the German Government. Either way we were happy to be on our way, for we had our First Class Eurail Passes and we could lie down and sleep on the folding seats, not like the general couch seats, except sideways, if there was no one sitting next to you. Page 53 One of the roughest train rides we ever had, was when my mother and my pregnant wife were on a couch train from Gothenburg Sweden to the shore of the Baltic, sitting up all the way, it was much harder on Becky, we didn’t have a Eurail Pass at that time, and Becky was at least four months pregnant and couldn’t lay down the entire time, due to people sitting next to us. She was in terrible discomfort and burst out crying when we finally reached our destination in my mother’s family house in Finland, in hind sight she could have lost our baby Michael Elijah. Life is a lesson learned, or a lesson forced to be repeated over and over again. See the movie Ground Hog Day at your local video store, if so inclined to view secular movies. We fell asleep in the night as the train went clickety clank into the dark mysterious night of the Bavarian Alps, dreaming of our next destination, not knowing exactly what we are going to see or do when we get there except to Minister Jesus Christ. It was something a little like forties movie, clickity clank, into the mountains, in our sleep, fitful dreaming in a way, the darkness before the day. I remember not being very comfortable in my thoughts and mind, not easy to sleep, even in first class couch, on the road, not much of a first class, if I remember rightly in my mind. Or maybe it was the two months or more since I left my home in San Anselmo, and missing my wife and son. Nevertheless I felt like I was in some kind of mysterious movie, skirting danger, being on an important mission for God. Please excuse the prose, this manuscript I wrote by hand, is some twelve hundred pages long, this is only in the fifties. I tend to drift off, into poetry at times, long times, in the future of this manuscript. We woke up to a beautiful and mysterious scene the next morning, in the steep mountain Alps of Switzerland, clickity clanking through steep mountain ravines, over bridges and transverse mountain rivers and streams. After winding though the mountains without ever seeing the tops, we finally came to a place that I could only describe as a legendry Shangri La. A place of extreme beauty with snow capped mountains all around and spring flowers all around. We pulled into an Alpine town or village, built on a steep sloop overlooking one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. Page 53 I was viewing Lake Lucerne a huge lake with mountains all around and sailing ships, huge yachts, almost unbelievable unless one saw it for themselves. The lake and sky was so blue, high in the Alps, the clouds were so white, and the grass was so green, it was spring still here in the Alps. I was told many years later, that there is even a corner of the huge lake that has a micro tropical climate in a cove, on the far shoe of the lake, with palm trees. It truly is a Shangri La in the Alps, purposely put there by God and man, along the train route, a place to rest and view with awe. Certainly a safe feeling place, from the chaos in the world, especially in the Middle East. As I we got of the train, right in front of this mountain village, on the shore of the lake, with the train between us. I started walking up the steep sloped red bricked road and sidewalk; I was stunned by the beauty richness and potted flowers everywhere. It reminded me of Sausalito very much a city by the bay with richness, flowers, water clean air and tourists, but not as crowded and high in the Alps. I looked at the Swiss coins in my hands they were made of solid silver, I looked and the alpine buildings, the feeling and cleanness and old world rustic ness of the village. I said to myself this would be a sanctuary and escape for anyone looking for peace, or another place to start, or live. By the time I got to the Middle East I started to realize, that this is where a lot of people would like, or love to live, or to escape too. Such is the feeling of Switzerland in general, it’s good economy, it’s fresh air and high altitude, you feel like your somewhere in the heavens. Upon entering the train again after the brief stop in this enchanted place facing the Sun. We began to make to make our way towards our southerly destination Italy, in an apparently Westward slop fringing on or towards France. We make a connection a stop, or opportunity to board a train to France, since we were so close to France, after coming down the mountains of Switzerland anyway. Now we back in the flatlands, back in reality. There in the murky semi warm darkness of the setting Sun the choice was made to go to Paris, by me and my feeling of direction, hopefully from The Lord. We boarded a train with our first class passes, and decided to go to Paris in a fantastically modern streamline express like train if I recall, with hopes of ministry in France, by contracting Christian Brothers and Sisters there, for Christians are everywhere, especially when Page 55 traveling and ministering, they are so helpful and hospitable, even though I had no contacts whatsoever in France, especially Paris. It’s a given, once making contact with any missionary minded Christians or Churches, doors of ministry and opportunity will open, and they will help you by the Holy Spirit, to your next destination or ministry. But again, this was unplanned; it was the convenience of this super train headed towards Paris that was quite a draw. We hadn’t spent the money we made in Finland and were helped along with free room and board, plus sleeping on the trains to avoid expensive hotel bills and even though I don’t remember getting any sizeable donations along the way so far since Finland, we still felt like we had enough money to take the unplanned turn towards Paris. Now that I remember, I don’t believe we even had to pay to stay in the upscale Christian Hotel YMCA in Munich, from what I recall all these years later, we were treated like guests, ministers and missionaries, and left with a feeling of success, and mission accomplished. But now, near the border of Switzerland, France and Italy, in the Southern balmy wine growing region of the world, we were seduced in the dark. The trip started out fantastic, comfortable, mysterious, affordable, but the something happened, in my apprehension, memory and effectiveness. As we got closer to Paris and a train change onto a more conventional coach like train, we came to a place where drunken soldiers boarded, wearing funny hats and partying. Apparently we connected with a train coming more directly from Italy, and these soldiers were on break, and going home, drunk out of their minds. One even had a huge three foot long next bottle of Italian wine in his hand. This was the first time on our journey that we witnessed this much drunkenness at one time, and they were soldiers on top of that, which made it more scary, it felt like they had taken our the train. This was it; we got off the train at the next stop, and took a train in the middle of the night, going the opposite way to Italy. I thought to myself that if this was a sample or example of what we were going to meet in Paris, a city out of control with parting and drinking, then I wasn’t ready for it, and after checking my heart for God’s Will, it turned out that it seemed like we were over extending ourselves or just had lack of faith. I believe the former subject was more correct. Page 56 Again in the dark misty warm southern France country side, we rolled past Lyons and Avalon skirted the Spanish border somewhere near, but still far away and no more temptations to take in more countries then we could handle. I could just imagine us getting bogged down in France, or lost in Spain. When we finally awake again after a somewhat long and fitful night, we were in Italy, rolling along tracks next to apartments with laundry hanging every where from long strings of clothing lines in the morning sun. This was the first time I saw anything related to poverty, or low income, or standards of living in Europe. It reminded me of rolling along somewhere in New York, only because the apartments were congested along the railroad tracts. But it was all good and interesting and who am I to judge what is poor or not, from a distance, although obviously we have come to a country, where the standard of living was certainly different or poorer. Yet it all looked interesting and beautiful in the sunlight, buildings perched or stacked on the sides of cliffs or hills ramshackle and all, at least I was on the ground in Italy and headed for Rome, even though for a moment, it felt like I was on the Mexican border. The only other time I had been to Rome, was on returning from my first mission to Israel. I never got off the plane, we just stopped to pick up and drop off passengers. Next to me sat a Catholic Bishop from an area next to Rome. I was the leader of a movement called the Holiness Movement in the Church, and was on his way to New York to minister and promote his books on the subject. Before we left, he prayed and made the sign of the cross for a safe passage. When he shared with me who he was he showed me his Bishops ring, almost expecting me to kiss it, which is the tradition. He told me that there were over a hundred thousand people in his Bishopric District. Then he asked me what I did for a living or what I was doing? or came from on my journey. I shared with him my name Peter Romanowsky, told him I was a pastor in California and was on my way home after a missionary journey then eventually took me to Israel after a week in Greece. He told me that it sounded like I was an apostle, which is translated missionary in Latin. When we arrived in New York, a group of people were waiting for him and began kissing his ring and bowing to him. Page 57 When we arrived at the Rome train station it was very impressive sight, ancient old world mixed with the modern. If I recall I saw pieces of ancient Rome sticking out of the modern structure in places. But that is a common sight in Rome, modern buildings built around ancient ones, but not really modern in the Los Angeles sense of the word. It has been over twenty years since this event; some things are imprinted forever for some reason. Such as the young slim snappy and handsome Italian train station guard or attendant, who wore a dark police style hat and black uniform. I asked him where there was a monastery that he could recommend for us to stay. He said “you don’t want to stay in a monastery, that’s not where you really want to stay. There are plenty of good hotels to stay in, where there was plenty of excitement”, or something or other of that nature. Although he was pleasant enough, while he was talking with a cigarette in his mouth and trying to light it unsuccessfully, and as he was flicking his adjustable lighter all of a sudden, after saying these somewhat disparaging words about staying at a monastery, the lighter ignited harmlessly blasting the side of his cheek with a blow torch type effect. He apparently turned the gas all the way up. He looked quite startled and the lighter was a fancy type, with high adjustment. I said to Ken as we were leaving the station to find a place to stay, “see what happens when someone talks bad about the things of God”. Ken expressed that he didn’t think there was a connection between what he said, and the lighter incident. But I’ll never forget the look on the guard’s face, quite handsome as he was in his snappy black uniform. Since we couldn’t get any help looking for a monastery we checked into a pension, as hotels are apparently called in Italy. It was like any inexpensive clean hotel room, like you would see anywhere; in fact it felt like we were in New York City rather then in some exciting foreign religious capital. After one night there we immediately packed our bags and searched for a monastery to stay in. We were told by passerby's to go to the area of the Seven Fountains. We finally found a beautiful stone guest and pilgrim monastery run by an Order of the White Sisters, if I recall the name properly. The principle Nun at the reception desk was making that click, click, click sound while shaking her head. After I then began muttering complaints and irritations in general, over the long walk and warm weather. She obviously saw that we were stressed and checked us in Page 58 and were given a beautiful room, overlooking a stone court with two beds and a clean shower. We then began to soak in the mystery of this historic Capital of the Roman Empire. The comparison between the pension and this pilgrim’s guest house was like day and night and for the same price. This place was solid and cool with Nuns running the place, whereas the pension was somewhat exposed to the hot Sun and uninspiring and secular in general. We felt safe and secure to say the least and truly felt like we were in a real inner city monastery or sanctuary, and in a more advantages place to begin exploring Rome. As big as Rome is it was a miracle we settled in so quickly with our foremost goal of establishing ourselves there, and so near to where all that was happening in the center of Rome. We had access to everything, except the hardest part was finding a mom and pop grocery store and laundry mat to say the least. It seemed like places like these were hidden in buildings somewhere, you had to learn or know your way around. The simple act of finding a grocery store is one of the fundamental first things next to hotel room and place to wash laundry, when arriving in a new city. I often washed my shirt in hotel bedroom sinks; of course I bring wash and wear drip dry clothing anyway whenever I travel. We had never seem a super market since we left Los Angeles, some moderate size neighborhood stores “yes” somewhere, primarily in Northern Europe, but now we wouldn’t see anything like that again for the rest of our journey. The whole Mediterranean seemed to have only corner grocery stores, of which we couldn’t even find one conveniently in down town Rome. I know that I am repeating myself but all missionary journeys and pilgrimages start by settling in to a new city or country. It always seems to take a week, to see the sights get established and make contacts. Fast food forget it! This was in the early seventies; we only saw one McDonald’s the whole trip. By the time we got to Israel we finally again saw western fast food again in the form of Wimpy Burgers. We spent most of our time eating local forms of fast food from indoor or outdoor grills on sidewalks. Honestly what a culture shock even regular grocery stores, if you could find them, were small by American standards. I remember walking into a Safeway Market after returning home from my six month mission, what a feeling and then going to Jack In The Box or a Taco Bell afterwards, not to forget driving a car again. Page 59 Enough said on the subject for now, it was all exciting and new, it was the adventure of it all that kept us slim and active. The next day or so later, the head Nun or Sister was short circuiting about something at the desk, in general frustration about something. I had to chuckle and laugh inside a bit, because that’s what I was doing when I first got there. It was all in good nature, and reassuring that both Nuns and Ministers have their moments of imperfection. We struck out from the monastery and began looking at Rome, first again to the Seven Fountains, which I still don’t know the historical significance, but maybe was in a Hollywood movie. We then went to the ancient center of Rome “The Forum” which included the ancient coliseum. It was all so awesome, to see so much of the ancient city preserved in the heart of Rome. We walked around awestruck, impressed and in an historical hypnotic state. The coliseum was as large, impressive and imposing as ever seen in photos and movies. The ancient floor was gone and the rooms and passageways below were exposed. I still don’t know what happened to or, when part of the coliseum collapsed or was vandalized. Probably an ancient earthquake I suppose, otherwise it would be in perfect econometrical condition, except for the floor. Only one Christian was martyred in the collusive I was told. But many gladiators and prisoners were killed or executed there, with wild animals tearing people to pieces, that were kept under the floor chambers. Page 60 60 MISSING PAGES OF JOURNEY FROM ROME TO ATHENS WILL INCLUDE LATER AT A FUTURE DATe CHAPTER FOUR GIFT OF WISDOM ATHENS GREECE Being in this most famous city historically, was all in all am experience of biblical proportions. Truly God takes “…the foolish things of this world to confound the wise.” as taught by Paul in the New Testament. I remember so clearly when I received the gift of wisdom. A man named Armin wolf was leading a bible study in his aunt home, named Betty Bilibock mother of Heidi Hertler and mother-in-law of Paul Hertler. Armin was a scientific nuclear engineer who worked at an accelerator on the San Francisco peninsula. He used to always wear his radiation badge when he led the home Bible Study and prayer meeting. The meeting was in Woodacre California, approximate date 1970. I was in what was called the Hot Seat a chair where the Elders in the Bible Study, as well as anyone who felt by The Lord, would lay their hands upon the person requesting prayer, healing or prophecy. Armin began to prophecy as I was being prayed over and he spoke “Thus saith The Lord, ye shall be given the Gift of Wisdom”. As he said these words, the only ones that I remember, I felt an electricity go through his hands into my head. There were a number of other ministers and elders that came and fellowshipped, at this charismatic weekly meeting. That evening downstairs in the prayer room were Pastor Fred Small, of the Marin City Church of God in Marin County California and Pastor Jack Kulhmen of Harmony General Baptist Church in San Rafael. He since became pastor of his home church the General Baptist Church of Ceres, near Modesto Ca. Also their were if I recall properly a young German pastor and convelesent home owner from the German Assembly of God Church in San Francisco. Plus any number of other ministers and elders that came to the meetings from all different denominations, because of the great power glory and reputation of the Holy Spirits move in these meetings. When a house is on fire; to use a metaphore, a crowd always gathers and the Holy Spirits Fire was certainly there, and everywhere thier are two or more are gathered in Christ Jesus name. But this meeting was especially blessed because of the free flow of the Holy Spirits Gifts and love in general. Richard Borher who first trained me in open street evangelisem, one on one. I recall there being a house full of ministers and elders at the meeting that evening, maybe four or five, as well as the general gathering of people old and young. I came upstairs to the living room after receiving the gift by the laying on of the hands of the Elders and prophecy , as the New Testament so clearly teaches....9/9/06 Time 11:30 Page 1 Chapter I My life's Greatest Missionary Journey By Peter Christian Romanowsky The greatest singular event that happened in my life, and by extension to the church that I was pastoring at time. Was an amazing six month missionary journey that began after Becky my wife, my mother Ritva Romanowsky and I had finished the ground work of our future ministry in Finland. By traveling there together and ministering in homes and churches while visiting relatives. Afterwards John Newton a fellow Agape Church member and I traveled to Israel and Greece on another missionary journey, surveying and ministering in these countries. Later on to return to these above mentioned countries, and more with my music minister Ken Hopkins. To complete the third and greatest missionary outreach of them all to that date, which lasted six months from the time of my departure from the San Francisco Bay Area, to the time of our return from Israel. It began after I felt I received a proper date of departure from The Lord. I had a dream possibly influenced by the same type of dream that Saint Paul had in the Bible about the Macedonian man calling him to Greece. Nevertheless I had a dream about a man asking me to come to Greece. I knew no one in the formal ministry in there at the time. My week in Athens and Corinth with Brother John Newton on the earlier mission way a logistic time of ground breaking and getting familiar with the lay of the land. Where to rent a room where to buy groceries, etc. I found in my international travels that it usually takes about a week to familiarize oneself to the basic needs when entering a new country. The ground work had been laid in our principle target countries Finland, Greece and Israel. The year was approximately 1975 the world as ours and we were young and full of the fire, of enthusiasm. After a fund raising meeting, that was challenged by two other fund raising needs. One an evangelist and teacher who had recently come back from Page 2 India and another missionary named Roberto Brown, who was also in need of funds for Mexico. “What a challenge”, I woke up with only some fifty or a hundred dollars the next morning, after the double and triple fund raiser at the Knights of Columbus meeting hall. Which we especially rented for the event in San Anselmo, Marin County California. This was the date that I told everyone that I believed, was the date of my departure. I really only had fifty dollars the morning that I was going to leave for this the greatest of missionary evangelistic journeys. As the day began I found some money in the mail, maybe as little as twenty dollars maybe more. Then a neighbor of whom I told about the departure lovely and cheerfully gave me another maybe fifty dollars, maybe less. All in all that day maybe some two hundred dollars came into my possession. Enough to easily take the first leg of the journey and fly to Los Angeles, where my parents lived and wait for god’s next provision. In the meanwhile Kenneth Hopkins our music minister did not have his plane ticket either. So I told him that I would leave by faith and wait for him in the Los Angeles San Fernando Valley suburb of Encino with my parents. I was filled with faith, I had nothing else to do but to ultimately trust in the Lord to provide. Then I got word from my wife Becky that she had sold our IBM Selectric typewriter which I had place in local paper before I left, to a seminary student from the Golden Gate Baptist Seminary in Marin County. The add had been in the paper long before I left “what divine timing”. Just when I needed it, that was two hundred more dollars. Then my parents contributed the rest of the money for the plane ticket, with enough money left over to buy a first class Eurail Pass. So that we would be able to travel from Denmark to Greece, over land and sea after first landing in Finland. Then on to our final destination, returning from Israel. The plane ticket was called an open jaw arrangement, with the rail pass accommodations of being able to sleep in all first class couches, due to the fact that all the seats folded down flat, when one wanted to lay down or sleep between cities in Europe. I can’t remember exactly how much my parents Page 3 Contributed, but if I can recollect properly it seems that the pastor of the Foursquare Church Tarzana and his wife contributed money also. The pastor and his wife will always be in memories because of something unexpected and special that happened months later in Rome Italy. They told me about a place they ministered in Rome and a pastor they knew named John Mcturnen. Who I was told and later to find out first hand that by faith he had been used by God, to build the largest Pentecostal Church sanctuary in Europe. In the suburbs of Rome, according to his testimony. I believe the ministers name in Tarzana was Pastor Wayneburg “what a couple”, they have seen some of the greatest events in modern church history. In the meanwhile a miracle was happening in northern California, where I had left Ken Hopkins. He had taken his Volkswagen bug to his grandparents home, to wash it before putting an add in the paper to sell it. While there he told his grandparents of what was transpiring , they were so impressed that they gave him enough money to buy a plane ticket, from the funds that they had been saving for his college education. They believed this would be a great opportunity to travel and see Europe. “It was done”, we had the money, we bought the open jaw return tickets from Los Angeles to Finland, then by rail through Europe and over land and sea through the Near and Middle East to Israel then return from there by air. It was amazing it was a dream comes true for any evangelist. We departed with the blessings of my parents from the airport and we were off, with only a little money in Kens pockets and nothing in mine. When we lands I had to borrow five dollars from Ken for the train ride from Finland's capital city Helsinki, to Tainus Jurva a suburb of Jurva which is near to the mid country eastern port city if Vassa. It was incredible when I look back, but young people have a lot of faith and that is why I believe that Jesus taught that, “…we must become as little to children to enter the Kingdom of Heaven”. We were on the first leg of a journey that I only dreamed about writing about in a journal. Page 4 “God is Good”! upon arriving at my grandparents farmhouse and after settling in a writing a few letters, as my manor had become after arriving in Finland. To let ministers and Christian workers know that I was in country. Invitations started coming in. During one meeting in a home for instance, after prayer for the sick and operating in the word of knowledge, calling out what physical or spiritual need was, as it was being healed. Revival broke out, word got out. I still remember the look on Brother Matti Ojalas (local Elder who invited us to minister) face when I called out a physical need, while praying for instance for someone sitting in a chair. I believe it was Perkins’s disease and the man responding while being healed. News spread like fire, the healing in this home meeting service somewhere near the town of Jurva. Organized by a “living saint,” in my opinion Matti Ojala of Jurva. News spread to other towns hamlets and villages about the healings and unmistakable power of God, that was flowing and healing person after person. Heart problems were a common prayer request, or discerning in the Spirit the needs while praying . People were being healed, people were being touched, joy was everywhere, hope had sprung anew in this spring and summer season. The warmth especially in the beginning of home meetings and services everywhere was contagious. I had read so clearly about miracles and phenomena like these in Charles G. Finneys book called Revival Lectures. As well as other stories of the way God used this great evangelist in America in the nineteenth century, I found a copy of one of his books in my grandparents home in Finland in the Finnish language. I thought to myself how my ancestors were ministered to by this same great book as I was. Page 5 We began we began being invited to speak in every imaginable place, such as factories for instance, where I felt so much like Charles G. Finney where he also spoke in factories. The people, workers, with their children sat there stoic like, then began opened up at the preaching of the Word, then lost all inhibitions when time came to pray for miracles and salvation as it was in our meetings, only on a smaller scale, with more healings. Again word spread at light speed, the light of God’s Word, the feeling of excitement that the Lord was able to convey through Ken and I was contagious. The healings were countless, the words and sensations of supernatural revelation of peoples needs in prayer were flowing. I feel almost overwhelmed as I write these words down, “my pen is the tongue of a ready writer,” as the scripture say. “Oh how I love Jesus,” it’s like I’m there again even though I am writing this far away and many light years from that time in space. I feel like I’m still there, ready only to let God flow like a mighty river of healing and salvation or redemption, as some might want to put it. Only a blessing and healing is the same, no matter what you may call it. I’m starting to lose touch with the physical so to speak, I have witnessed so many healing and miracles that I am tongue tied and awe struck, except to be able to write these flowing words with my pen. “God can do it again,” every day is a miracle; there is problem to big for God. I feel Satan also fighting, not fighting the good fight of faith, but fighting for our souls and our minds. Resist him, rebuke him, give him no quarter, and give him no glory, by even dwelling on his evil activity. “God is Good,” this is the number one principle, the first doubt Satan put in Adam and Eves mind was that God was holding something back that was good for them. In other words, that God was holding something back that was good for them. In other words, that God wasn’t perfectly good to His children. Resist that lie and you will be always able to overcome. As I reflect back, those days were some of the most powerful days of ministry I had ever experiences. My mother was healed at a Kathryn Kuhlmen service in the shrine auditorium some years earlier. Her testimony was published in Kathryn's second best selling book GOD CAN DO IT AGAIN. I am mentioned also in her testimony and because this book was published in Finland, in the Finnish language it helped open many doors for us. But the primary immediate moving force was the Holy Spirit. Revival had begun Finland, is a famous Page 6 country for revivals. It was prayer that kept the Russians from over running the country and seizing it as a satellite. I saw people praying on their knees OUT LOUD in the largest Pentecostal Church in Helsinki on subsequent visits and in time and in particular, it etched into my memory forever to see so many people on their knees. In reflection I remember a little sign as you enter the huge sanctuary in Glad Tidings Pentecostal Church in San Francisco and it read something like this “PLEASE DO NOT PRAY OUT LOUD”. No wonder San Francisco has become such a Seat of Satan, when people forget how to fervently pray without fearing what some carnal minded person sitting next you is thinking about you anyway. “GOD IS SO GOOD”, it is Him that I spend all my most precious time glorifying, and if I criticize it is only out of deep love for God’s People who need leadership and fearless devotion to the written as well as The Holy Spirit inspired spoken Word “OUT LOUD”! We need to rise up and cast out fear and doubt and worry, no longer use these words. But instead use the words concern, faith and optimism in their place. I have replaced these words with CONCERNED, never do I tell people to worry about this or that or say “I’M AFRAID” that this might happen . Or I’m afraid for you my brother or sister but instead say, “I AM PRAYING FOR YOU” and BELIEVE only the best will happen! In Finland on this third and most powerful missionary journey to date, invitations keep coming to preach, sing and pray for the sick as well as other needs that they had. Sometimes we would have two services scheduled in the same day. All in all during that same thirty days we spent in Finland we had ministered in approximately thirty eight meetings altogether. Many of the meetings were in home churches because not every town and village had a church building. But it seemed that every town did have a church meeting in someone’s home, if not two or three. I remember a Baptist church that my grandmother took me to in a village close to where she and my aunt lived. I believe on my first visit to Finland, well anyway I was asked to address the congregation and minister on some two different occasions. When I believe it was the second time I was there a leader in the Baptist Denomination in Finland, who was visiting and ministering also, told me that speaking in tongues was not the issue that distinguished Baptists and Pentecostals in Finland. Because the Baptists speak in tongues also, it was something else he said or some other Page 7 difference, but we never got we never got into the differences whatever they were. I believe he said that he was the secretary in the leadership of the main Baptist denomination in Finland. The first time we went to that church I was asked to give my testimony or a greeting as it’s called, when a visiting minister first comes to a church. My mother was sitting behind a lady in the congregation and lady was praying in tongues. My mother asked her if she a Pentecostal and the lady turned around and said with pride that she was a Baptist. As Ken Hopkins and I were ministering and praying for the sick, we were being paid without having to ask for anything. We were transported and provided with translators, I am primarily speaking of a wonderful women of God named Ritva Phooey. “God bless her,” as she tirelessly interpreted for both Ken and myself. I never really got to thank her as much as I would have liked to. Partially because of the great heat and excitement of the period, or because of the many other occasions when returning to Finland with her as our primary interpreter, we or I myself either began to take her for granted, or that she was just too young or too potentially pretty, and felt so venerable being so far from family and friends that we or I myself, really couldn’t get too emotionally close to her. “GOD KNOWS HER LABOR OF LOVE”. I feel indebted to her to her for her great humility and godliness in the way she conducted herself and never doubted what she was witnessing and seeing as she translated. Ritva was as much as part of the miracle services as Ken and I were. Matti Ojala to is greatly impressed upon my mind for his professionalism and good nature, while he not only took care of scheduling our appointments and engagements, but was faithful in the financial business work that somebody had to do while we were all immersed in our Spiritual warfare world. Matti was the primary person that began our schedules and launched us into the Spiritual dimension of ministry. Before we left Finland the engagements began to get larger and larger, one dear pastor organized a revival meeting in a high school auditorium and the same day in the morning I was asked to give the morning devotion in the same auditorium before the entire high school of some nine hundred students. The devotion was short, but the fact that there is no separation of church and sate struck me in Finnish schools. They get all the teaching, both evolution and creation. A much more balanced system then ours in America today. In the evening service we ministered and prayed for the sick. Many hearts were touched and healed in this period of ministry in this part of Finland. Page 8 On one occasion, I don’t even know for sure if it was on this missionary evangelism journey or the next. I was asked to speak open air in the center of a town with a lot or red bricks. I believe the name of the city was called in Swedish Jacobstad and possibly in Finnish Pietrisary, all the cities towns and street signs on the coast of Finland are bilingual. Due to the many Swedish Finns that live there, my grandfather himself being one. We were in the front of what looked like city Hall with it’s impressive structure and I was able to speak through P.A. system and shake the buildings in the town square, so to speak. Such freedom of speech and I gave a hard hitting message about salvation and repentance if I recall. I stayed in a missionary training school in this part of Finland North of Vaasa, not far from a town called Umeo. Here in the school my interpreter lived and taught English. English is a very important missionary language because it is the principle international language spoken and missionary trainees here were preparing to go to Kenya. Where English is the principle language spoken for instance, plus anywhere you go in the world someone knows enough English to translate for you. In this school I have many fond memories, the young ladies of which the school seemed primarily comprised of were so thoughtful and helpful. When I asked for a shower upon my arrival they looked at one another at first and seemed a little puzzled. Then they opened the door of a huge walk in kitchen area where there was nothing but large pots and pans, from what I could see next to the main part of the kitchen area and closed the door. This was apparently where they cleaned the pots and pans and stored things. There was a drain on the concrete floor, so I just turned on the hot water and poured it on myself; I felt like I was showering in someone’s kitchen the room, was so big. Well I didn’t fully realize it till later that they had no shower and this was the only place with running hot running water, except the bathroom sinks. Mind you now this was a great wooden building, something that looked like a donated mansion for the school. For bathing the Sauna or Sana as the Swedes call it was the place to wash and it is only fired up with wood at certain times, or certain days, certainly not every day. Page 9 The water was heated traditionally on top of or next to the Sauna fire, and then poured on you, hot and cold. In the winter sometimes people roll in the snow naked to cool off, or jump into a near by ice cold pond. I never witnessed this myself. (Only being there in the winter but once, and that year was not much snow). Regardless it was a time of such intense ministry it was hard to even think about every day little pleasures such as daily hot showers, but I still love the memories of the smell of burning wood, soap and hot steam coming off the rocks in the Sauna. Even thought I wasn’t totally accustomed to bathing naked with other people especially relatives, males only of course. At this time also and in the school Ken Hopkins was asked to play and sing over the radio visa via tape. I believe the music may have even covered all Finland on its primary, if not only radio network. Regardless whether it was local or national the Word was getting out. We were also taken to a Swedish speaking elderly retirement home and ministered there in healing and encouragement and were received well. That is where I realized how distinct the language difference barrier was between ethnic Swedish speaking Finnish citizens and ethnic Finns. The Swedish Finns did not find the need for a large part to understand or learn the Finnish language. From what I was told it was too difficult a language to learn (being non-Germanic). Although this Swedish speaking retirement home had to be translated into their tongue, I still thought it strange. But as I look back after many years this was an older generation. Since the war with Russia I was told that the Swedish speaking Finns and the ethnic Finns began to for instance intermarry more. The people were wonderful though, charming and polite with great warmth and smiles and miracles did happen. Finland at the time had only two national television channels, one in Finnish and the other in Swedish and neither of them were on twenty four hours a day. One must remember that Finland was passed back and forth between Russia and Sweden for many centuries. My great great grand father Jussi Tarkenen was one of the ministers; teachers and businessmen that help bring the Finnish language back, by founding a school and writing textbooks. I was learning so much about the language differences between ethnic Swedes who lived in Finland and the indigenous Finns, along with the Laplanders who were in the area possibly before them all. Page 10 Since I am writing these events in 1995, (plus finally typing and revising this text in 2005) and the events took place in approximately 1975. Many kilometers and names of towns ministered in are not as clear, as if I had recorded them in a journal at time. But I am so great full to God that I am finally able to complete my journal, in large part at this time. While still typing and hopefully remembering more as I go, in further additions and revisions God willing. May he help by His Holy Spirit, whom the Bible says will bring all things to remembrance. These most powerful and memorial events are with me and written down forever in 1975, when I first wrote is manuscript by hand. May my children both spiritual and biological keep these memories and history alive forever. There were also businessmen, professionals and ministers who were like saints helping me along the way, behind the scenes in Finland. Then again people like Ritva Poyhonen our translator and Matti Ojala a businessmen and church elder back in the town of Jurva, still playing a major part in organizing meetings and keeping tabs on things In The Spirit along with countless others whom I hope to remember, as I continue revising, editing and expanding this handwritten manuscript in 2005. One Event that Matti Ojala organized early on in the campaign was to minister in a TENT MEETING in the village of Jurva. I had received an invitation to open the first meeting in a LARGE TENT REVIVAL in one of the largest cities in the area. But Matti who was handling my engagements, on the earthly plane, had scheduled me and Ken instead to the smaller home town tent revival. Every summer Finland flourishes with old time religion style tent meetings, like were common in America in the forties. It was like being in the past in the great days of American evangelism. I wanted so much to speak in the large tent OPENING SERVICE, but duty calls to minister to my home town even if it means missing a part of a dream to be under a canopy that eventually could hold five thousand people. Matti was right to schedule me to speak the same date in the local tent meeting instead, even though it held only fraction of the people I could have ministered to. Size doesn’t always matter in the long run. I am sharing this part of the story because after reading about and seeing the great tent revivals in America on television, and even witnessing such an event in my home county of Marin. Organized by Pastor Fred Small of the Church of God in Marin City Page 11 California, I yearn to witness those days again in a general way, in the first person from the pulpit, but everything in God’s time. There was a young pastor and Bible smuggler, into Russia that organized some of the best meetings for Ken Hopkins and me. I can’t quite remember his name at this time, but it will eventually come to me. He went to Kenya Africa as missionary with his family, not long after I first met him. He lost one of his children a young daughter from what I can remember, to local disease. My heart went out to him, and his pretty and young and brilliantly blond petit wife next time I saw him. I felt some guilt and shame, that at the same time they were getting ready and raising money to go to Africa, my preaching schedule overlapped their fund raising schedule. I even thought I saw some sadness, bewilderment and a shrug of a shoulders, in the look of the eyes of some of the elders. As if our timing schedules could have been off, and more money and awareness could have been raised for the missionaries. We all looked inside and out for what could have caused such a tragedy, but we all pushed on, especially the young pastor. That was during my fourth missionary visit to Finland. Money is often a source of weariness in a crusade, where we are all looking to the spiritual. Even though we never asked for money, it was given to by Matti the Elder, and many other churches and groups for services rendered. In fact it is a shame to beg for money in this country; Finnish people are very proud and honest, (honest as a Finn). We were never short of money or hospitality. The young missionary pastor and his little family will always on in my heart and mind. The many meetings he organized for us on our third journey, the careful hospitality of him and his wife in his home /church, the obedience they had from their beautiful children and the congregation that he pastured. I could only imagine, what my non-believing or non committed relatives would have thought, if I lost a child on the mission field in Africa. Some already thinking, that I am beside myself for living and moving in this spiritual world. “God bless you pastor and man of God and your beautiful snow white platinum blond haired wife”. Page 12 The meetings in Finland were getting more powerful intense and more numerous. Although we were not able to speak at the opening meeting of the Large tent revival meeting in the city of Sainajoki, because of the two invitations on we had that same day. Nevertheless later on and towards the end of our thirty eight day mission in Finland we were blessed and invited to preach in the largest congregation, of the second largest city of that area of west central Finland the beautiful San Francisco like city of Vaasa. This was our ultimate and trumpet service, in The Lord. People had traveled one hundred kilometers from another area where we ministered just before. This was our final farewell service and people were crowded all the way to the balcony. Ken Hopkins told me later, that when he turned to look over at me ministering, he said with admiration and wonder, “Peter you looked like a real evangelist”. The power and anointing of God was there mightily. One lady sitting near the front started to cry out like as though a great struggle was taking place. People began to look to me for leadership as she was shaking and tensed up into a ball, while still sitting. I sensed that it was the power of the Holy Spirit coming on her and an inner battle for healing and deliverance or salvation had begun. The church building had hundreds of people there if I recall, it seemed like a thousand looking back, and even the balcony was filled. It was awesome, the atmosphere was charged, the invisible Shaken Glory was present, and the Holy Sprit was moving mightily. People were being healed, revival was staking place right before us, and souls were being saved. What I remember the most was the supernatural warmth, as I was to sense and pray for people’s needs at the alter call. I could feel by warmth on my own body, on what part of other people’s bodies were being healed and would call out the healing in the audience. This same phenomenon happened in virtually every meeting we conducted, in very place and very heart that would let the Holy Sprit move, heal, save and deliver. The Word of Knowledge moved daily, hearts where being physically healed as well as spiritually. I remember in one service prior to our final service in the large Pentecostal Church in Vassa. I believe it may have been in the evening service at the high school auditorium, in the hearts were being physically healed, I could sense people’s pain and healing in their hearts, it was Page 13 supernatural beyond words, I could feel in my body heart and mind, what people were going through. Words did not have to be spoken, people came foreword in every service, or I reached out to them in audience. Touching, healing, moving, singing, motivating everywhere where people had an open mind, and an open heart. The healing is still flowing; I can feel it, while I am typing these words. I never worked so hard in my life, doing something so rewarding, being part of a revival a supernatural experience, never has one young man felt so blessed. While I was praying ministering and traveling through west central Finland, I thought about all the petty problems that the local church and ministries had in Marin County. Truly a prophet is not without honor, except in his own country and his own home, as the Bible teaches. I felt so free, no head trips I had purpose in life. I felt I could have stayed here indefinitely, full time, with my family and children. This was only for the poorest of the poor, In Spirit. Nobody but a saint could do this, make the sacrifices, and teach the children as missionaries as long distance family cruise sailors do. It wasn’t my lot, I married into wealth and power, and it is hard to break free from this both blessing and curse. Jesus taught the rich young ruler to sell to sell his excess, and come and follow him. He could not, Jesus also taught that it was harder for a camel to go thorough the eye of needle then for a rich man to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. To those that trust in uncertain riches Jesus also taught that they must give their extra coat, to those who have none. That goes for houses and property also, as the early believers did so after the day Pentecost. I have never had more then I have needed, even when I lived in the nicest house on the block, I and my wife Becky took in all the poor and homeless. I remembered Charles G. Finny the American Awakening Evangelist who lived out of a trunk with his wife and was so poor, that that was all they owned at one time. I could have traveled around the world non stop doing nothing but teaching, preaching, traveling. But I needed a home base, the church I was pasturing, the wife and children and home that I left behind. Even though we would have been provided for even more, if my family was with me. But it was not our lot at the time. Someday in the future I would like to circle the earth ministering somewhat like my famous Finnish great granduncle who became my great grandfather at the early deaths of my biological great grandparents. Matti Tarkenen was his brother, who adopted my grandmother and raised her with his Germen wife. He went on to seminary and became a Lutheran Page 14 Priest, then traveled around the world three times establishing missions, schools and ordained the first Lutheran priests in Angola Africa, started a school in Shanghi China, ministered in probably in or near Nagasaki Japan, and started missions for Finnish seamen. Most notably in my mind was the one he started in San Francisco around the turn of the century. The red brick Finnish Lutheran Church located on Church Street on the right hand of to Market St. facing south, which is still there. The church wrote the Finnish Governments Missionary Board to send someone to help the Finnish sailors who along with mostly Scandinavians were the backbone of International Merchant Fleet. That first invited him to minister to the seamen and sober them up and give them coffee and make them write home to their mothers, and sent them money. He said to my mother later, while she sat at his feet listening to his stories, that that was his first mission and the it took three years to establish and was the toughest assignment he ever had. The red brick building where the Seamen’s Mission was located, is still at the foot of Market Street, it is a restaurant today and my older brother Bronik got a free meal there after telling them the story. It was one of the few buildings that was not destroyed by the Great Earthquake of 1906. There were still 30 people there meeting regularly in the sixties when my mother visited the mission. I attempted to contact the lady in charge one Sunday at the Church, but they were having a dinner that day and wasn’t available to talk. My mother said that she still had pictures and history of him with her. He went on to become head of all missionary activities for the Lutheran Church in Finland translated the New Testament into modern Finnish wrote theology books and brought the first black Africans to Finland from Angola. His story is in a museum in Helsinki, the Lutheran Church and State are together in Finland. He received a metal from the Czar of Russia, according to my older brother Bronik who also visited and worked in Finland many years later. Building Nokia Corporations Website after being contracted out by The IBM. Corporation. When Matti Tarkenen died all he had accumulated in life was memorabilia from the missionary field and a set of silver wear given to him as a gift and pictures and books and the family farm which he inherited form his father, my great great grandfather Anti Tarkenen. Who also was a Free Church Minister, businessman, educator and school founder. In fact he wrote some of the first books teaching and bringing back the Finnish language, which has been suppressed in favor of Swedish. Depending on what side of Finland you lived on I suppose, because she was passed back and Page 15 forth between Russia and Finland for four hundred years before her relatively recent independence. We left Finland after thirty eight days of ministry. We came with only ten dollars or so and with no promises of meetings or engagements in advance. But with only the promise of God’s Word and the Holy Spirit’s directions, which can always be relayed upon. We had some three hundred and sixty dollars each after ministering in approximately thirty eight meetings, an average on one a day. Where the pay we received and the general wages paid in Finland, was equal to one third of what people made in America at the time. So by American standards and the rate of exchange, we left Finland with closer to one thousand dollars each above our expenses. I am not saying all this to boast, but to show the sacrifice and love of the Christians in Finland. To those who come to them bearing the precious Word of God. My aunt was shocked and surprised when she saw how much we were being paid after ministering in a few meetings and yet we thought it not that much at the time and cared not about the amount, because we were so glad to be provided for with food, lodging and even clothes. I remember a Christian businessman taking us out shopping from the church in Vassa, and another Christian businessman lodging us in his own home and transported us to every meeting. We never had to pay for transportation except once or twice between cites, but were virtually everywhere. Everywhere we went, we were taken care of. Before leaving Finland I also want to mention that in the relatively large city of Peitrassari we were invited to minister in a special meeting organized for the Gypsies, or those who are called Romany I will have much more to say in the future about these special Christian Peoples in this special Christian Church. A Christian Romany Evangelist named Manny, and the Pastor of the Church he belonged to organized the meeting. The women wore their beautiful full dresses and the men all wore their traditional Gypsy Boots. I especially remember a beautiful young Gypsy women come to the alter with; tears in her eyes and people were being healed in general inside and out. Page 16 Enough can’t be said about Kenneth Hopkins and the songs he wrote while on the road, his beautiful twelve string guitar, HIS MUSIC WHICH DREW MANY HUNDREDS OF PEOPLE AND HELPED MAKE THE JOURNEY WHAT IT WAS. Like Paul and Silas we were together, two by two as the Lord sent his Disciples out to evangelize the world, in preparation for his coming, “The fields are white saith the Lord, pray to the Lord of the harvest to sent laborers into the field, go to where people will listen, go to where the Word is hungered for. Cast not you pearls before swine, wipe off even the dust from your feet as a testimony against those who will not receive The Living Word of the Lord. It will be more tolerable in the day of judgment for Sodom and Gomorrah when for those cities that reject the Living Word of Christ”. To use some of the words of Christ, in a prophet inspirational manor. CHAPTER TWO The Journey to Sweden We disembarked on a vessel from Vaasa to Umeo Sweden where the next leg of our journey was about to begin. Once on the ship and in the middle of the sea, we were in very high waves. Higher then anyone might have expected on such and inland sea, of which we were on. It was dark and grey and windy, I had no fear even though I was tempted. I had witnessed so many miracles back in Finland and of course I remembered Christ walking on the water. I sat behind near the ships stern watching the huge grey waves pushing us westward and onwards to Sweden. I remembered how my parents escaped to Sweden with my older baby brother in a thirty foot life boat before I was born, with some thirty refugees from Finland in the vessel. The rudder broke and my father got into the water to fix it. The waves that night during the storm they went through sank a couple ships including an American vessel. What we were going through was a wind storm and not even a true winter storm. Even when it got dark I feared not, even though I had never seen waves that huge, since I first looked out of a ships window coming to America as a child. On an ocean liner that was going through a big gray, gloomy storm in the middle of the Atlantic. There was much motion Page 17 on this fairly large boat that we were on. I watched people drinking when we started, as people often do on boats. Then I saw them later, so very sick and vomiting in the restroom and sad to say some, did not even make it to the restroom before getting sick and leaning against the hallway or lobby wall. Alcohol only increased motion sickness, and does not help it at all to my observation at the time. I think people were scared and tried to forget. Sea sickness takes your mind off the fear of death, to the point you don’t care that much about it any more, that’s the blessing in disguise. Dealing with sickness is sometimes a diversion from dealing with fear. While on a small twenty foot sail boat alone off the Pacific Coast of California many years later, in a very big wind storm, when the seas where behind as big as houses. I experienced some sea sickness, but just enough to take my mind off of the wind and the waves, and focus my heart and mind on my body and my vessel. It’s hard to explain sometimes but every dark cloud has a silver lining and when one is very sick, death is sometimes to be welcomed, more then fear of death. I also was thrown out of my twenty four foot boat by a rough wave, but held onto the gun rail, even though thank God I had a rope around my waist for safety, which I didn’t have to use. Only later in my bed, when I would think about what happened, did I have to think about the fear. At the time, there was no time to fear. When my parents landed in Sweden after the storm, they were blown off course and landed somewhere in the southern part of Sweden. The government sent back all the refugees in the boat back to Finland, except for my parents because my father was a Russian defector and soviet army officer and would have been executed for desertion to the Finnish front, during the Russian Finnish war. It also helped I’m sure that my mother was half Swedish, so that is how I happened to be born in Kristianstad Sweden on a Sunday on June 26th 1949. My Swedish name was Hejlsberg of which my grandfather changed to the basic Finnish equivalent of Kallio. Did I forget to mention that one of my distant cousins on my grandfather’s side became the head of Nokia Corporation, which became the largest cell phone company in the world? Hejlsberg and Kallio both basically mean rock, or Stone Mountain or barren place. That is what the Vikings named North America when Leif Erickson landed in what is now in the Northern Canada territories above the tree line. Heliland or barren and rocky land because it was above the sandy beaches of the Golden Strand, of which the Vikings discovered later, after they sailed further south and renamed their new found country Vineland, after finding wild grapes in order to make wine. I believe the original name Heliland also came from the basic root Nordic word for rock, from which we get the word Hell, or barren place. It’s interesting that I was named Peter, which also means rock, or more accurately stone. Page 18 While on this ocean going roller coaster I to write or dictate a message on cassette to the church that I was the founding pastor. We had recently moved our Sunday service to Stewart Chapel which is on the grounds of The San Francisco Theological Seminary in San Anselmo California. The Seminary moved from San Francisco some time ago and was built to look somewhat like a Scottish Castle, during 1906 the earthquake one of its towers collapsed. The epicenter of the earthquake was actually centered in Marin County on the North Side of the Golden Gate, in a little town called Olema. These is a story about the ground opening under a cow and it fell in. But later was dismissed as hoax or an attempt to bury an already dead cow, by pushing it into the opening of the earth. Marin County now is more or less an extended suburb, or bed room community of San Francisco. Even though most of the county is beautiful and rural with extensive natural wonders made up of parks and wilderness. Dominated by a majestic mountain called Mount Tam, where the first mountain bike was built by a man named Gary Fisher of Fairfax. In the heart of this county sits Stewart Chapel, perched on a hill overlooking the town of San Anselmo which sprung up around the Seminary when it moved there, of which before it was just referred to as The Junction or train junction. My ancestor Matti took these trains and traveled extensively around preaching as far as Astoria in Northern California, where a lot of Finns lived. Our church even rented one of the old train stops for an office and meeting room for Friday evening dinner services. I believe a rock and roll band called Credence Clearwater Revival meet there before us for rehearsal, and recorded an album with a picture of the inside, with a band member sitting on a bicycle. I couldn’t help but wonder, if my great granduncle/father stopped at this very spot further down from the main junction, on his way to a speaking engagement somewhere north. The ghosts, spirits and history of this place in general speak to me, of a person who prayed, looked and wondered who would follow him. I Page 19 can not help but to think of him when I am on a bike path that used to be an old train track. Of him thinking and praying as I would do as he traveled along looking at the people towns and scenery. That his work would not be in vain and that someone, preferably a decedent would carry on the family name and spiritual tradition, of bearing the precious Word. Which is more precious then houses, land or gold, and which words are the building bocks of a city not made with hands, which lies eternal and not with brick and mortar but with souls of the redeemed. The building blocks made into a precious house with many rooms and with many mansions built into a city immortal and fellowship with God and all that is good forever. Where nobody is hungry lonely or cold anymore and God shall wipe away every tear and fear. Yes my ancestors were here before me, yes they prayed that someone would follow them and build on their spiritual work and complete it and yes God did answer their prayers, and they are still praying under the Alter of Heaven for us. We are not alone in this World, even though it feels like it in the middle of the long night we call Earth compared to the eternal day, except for the still small voice of God and the good that He is contemplating for us who love Him and worship Him. The gold of a man's heart is all that ones needs in Heaven to walk the streets of Spiritual mirror polished streets of gold. The diamonds of ones souls are all that are needed to shine with brilliant colors through any darkness, and the silver of ones word will all that will be needed to purchase anything of need in the City of God. The gates will be made of great pearls carved with the mighty deeds of the righteous and their exploits. The stones of the walls will have the names of the redeemed engraved and set with precious gem stones and he language spoken in Heaven will be that of poetry. There will be blue sky all the day, with brilliant pure white clouds, which are the symbols of the garments of the inhabitations that were washed in the red blood of the spotless Lamb. The throne before God and the Lamb will have a sea glass, like no sailor has ever seen for calmness and beauty. Stewart Chapel where meet for Sunday Service was the most beautifully situated in all Marin County. It is also a popular place to have weddings, being also called The Wedding Chapel. The vaulted extremely high ceilings and the stone work was marvelous. The high stain glass windows made the chapel or more accurately church size building, awesome to behold. The pedestal pulpit is ascended by steps and was made of fine oak wood. Behind the great the great Page 20 golden wood alter was also a great carving of the last supper in oak facing rows of white oak pews that could seat a least two hundred people. Above the carving was a circular stain glass window, with great tear drops like a spinning wheel descending into a cacophony of brilliant stain glass light climaxing into the center where there was an cut glass effigy of Christ the Lamb of God, carrying a banner or cross on His shoulder. It was awesome and hypnotic to behold in this great Cathedral like Chapel. “Oh you must see by now, that I am in another world free from petty fears of letter and word”. I feel poetry moving through my soul, that language that makes sense of all sincerely held religious beliefs. Perfect inflections and freedom to move and express the ecstasy of creativity. In The Holy Spirit I can create and imagine brilliant lights and dazzling sights. I can create things out of nothing, I can speak things into existence like my Heavenly Father saith, the Spirit in the Word of God, where He inspired the great words. “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. The was in the beginning with God. All things were made by him; and without him was not anything made that was made”. To quote from John first chapter verses one to three, and then in the first chapter of Genesis ‘In the beginning God created the heaven and earth. And the earth was without form and void; and darkness was upon the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God moved upon the face of the waters. And God said, Let their be light: and there was light”. I am free, “I am free at last” to express myself, move myself, in The Spirit, I see things, with my minds eye, things the earthly eyes can only imagine, only dream, I dream while I’m awake, I feel the breath of God moving through my spirit and earthly lungs, I see Heaven, I see people all one, all beautiful all young all caring and tender, forever free. holding one another without sex or gender, but all looking beautiful, like a man or women looking at one another, holding one another in their arms, laying ones head one another’s lap and falling asleep without fear of abandonment, disappointment or discomfort. I see flowers and colors vibrating and singing with eternal music coming from everywhere, where odors and incense are beyond human description where flight is a given and majesty and rule is given to all according to their talents and deeds. But above all praise be given for the Lamb of God who taketh away the sins of the world, and to the Page 21 Father of lights who by His Spirit accomplished it all and all praise be given to Him and towards Him when the rule of Christ be accomplished. “Oh the Logos”, all that has been sacrificed for the faith of believing in His Word, all the wealth and riches that have been traded for the intangibility of His Word. All the sacrifices made trusting that His Word will bring life and liberty and the pursuit of happiness with purpose. How many people have traded their wealth and riches for this “Logos Christ” only to find at times persecution and loss of reputation, for trusting in something so visibly unseen with the naked eye? But the Eye of the Lord sees all things, and travels back and forth throughout the earth looking for those who trust in Him, and will reward them with great riches in the heart and glory from above, not only in this world but in the world to come. “Oh the victories and joy”, when after our sacrifices and we are found to be wise, by God’s Word. Even more then all our teachers as it says in Psalms 119:89 “For ever, O Lord they word is settled in heaven”. and then in Psalms 119: 98 “Thou through they commandments hast made me wiser than mines enemies: for they are ever with me. I have more understanding than all my teachers:” Psalms 119:105 “They word is a lamp unto my feet, and a light unto my path.” Christ is the embodiment, fulfillment and empowerment of the word by The Holy Spirit, to “walk through the valley of the shadow of death”, only to stand above on top the highest mountain. The higher the mountains, the deeper the valleys, you can’t have one without the other. The dead letter of the law and commandments are powerless without The Holy Spirit of love. The law was given to punish the wicked and make wise the righteous. Where there is love there is no law, “Then one of them, which was a lawyer, asked him a question, tempting him, and saying Master, which is the great commandment in the law? Jesus said unto him, Thou shalt love the Lord they God with all they heart, and with all they soul, and with all thy mind. This is the first and great commandment. And the second is like unto it, Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself. On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets. Matthew 22: 35-40. Page 22 “Oh my heart is so full, be patient my children,” as God teaches us in His word. Books are a minimal material a maximum world; they are hated and destroyed by those who would pursue wealth power and glory from some other source, then by the patient and basically benign study and meditation on God’s word. I am losing the ability to speak in the English language So I will begin to write in a tongue, “Oula kala halola kahala oula oula lahiola owyola”. It’s a song or praise, like listening to a violin or an operatic oratorio in German or Italian. We may not understand the words or even the story it’s telling but are moved, lifted up and taken up by its melodic beauty into another world or dimension. We begin to associate the beautiful vibrations with good feelings, memories and experiences that we have subconsciously memorized. For instance “a groan” is the same in every language on earth, or a laugh, that is universal. When we begin to realize that all audio life is made up of beautiful vibrations that can be counted. Just to laugh says so much, just to think of something funny. Laughter how unexplainable and yet the scripture states that “A merry heart doeth good like a medicine:” Proverbs 17:22. Marriage, that’s a funny word, a fun word, “I’m getting married”, isn’t that funny, just joking. Can’t you feel the laughter, The Holy Laughter, like Holy Rolling with The Rock of Ages. Or cracking up, what’s that all about, but to “break on through, to the other side”. My favorite scene in the movie Treasure of The Sierra Madre was when Director John Huston’s father playing the Ole Timer and Gold Miner started laughing after he lost all his gold, and got his partner laughing out load hysterically, until they forgot their woes and each went on their real reward. The partner to marry the slain fur trader, and the old man to become the Medicine Man or Elder of a Mexican Indian Tribe. I knew a missionary who became that Ole Man and who married young Mexican women in the same Sierra Madre Mountain range in Durango Mexico. Where it rained like clock work every warm summer afternoon. Page 23 I’m in a spell, a “good spell” or as the word says “Gospel”, which means good news, do I have to spell it out: I’m in a trance, in The Spirit, when I write, I wait for that spiritual wave to take me, seduce me, make love to me and to ride that wave to the top, then down again. The secret is to “stay on the board” or on the board without falling and crashing. “My heart pants, In The Spirit”, my lungs laugh, my heart it sings, my eyes they smile, my soul it wonders, my spirit, it’s In Heaven , when I walk, with God. When I breathe, I feel the breath or Spirit of God, in my lungs. This trance like state, this good spell, is where I long to live, when I am writing, sensing, typing, listening to music that makes no sense, by Placio Domingo in Spanish, I can only make out a few words, but I feel the feeling, the spirit, of the song, it doesn’t conflict with my typing, because there is no competition for words, he has his and I have mine, and sometimes they merge into my grammar. It is hard to breath, my feeling is that I want to leave my body, but it is necessary to stay here and finish my course, run the race. Time is failing me, I’m in eternity, only there is where you’re ultimate and eternal bank account should be forever. Only there “…where neither moth nor rust corrupt, and where thieves do not break and steal:”, as Jesus spoke in Matthew 6:20. Oh fear where is your powder, only in death do you dwell, only in the life Christ are you banished by his word, and loving commandments which are not harsh, but his burden is easy to bear, but to love one another is every body’s duty on earth. When in doubt love, when in fear have faith, when confused lay your thoughts on God’s perfect peace Holy Spirit of peace that passes all understanding, let the love of God flow; let Him carry you to worlds and dimensions beyond. Let Him show you the way to walk in this world, let Him show you the eternal things of the world to come that never can be taken away. Only then can we begin to understand that the pain and robberies that we have done, and the ones done against us, can be forgiven, as well as understood. In the New Heaven and New Earth they will ultimately not even come to mind, the hurts pains and sorrows that were done before. No flash backs, no night sweats, no more night mares, “And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes; and there shall be no more death, neither sorrow or crying, neither shall there be any more pain: for the former things are passed away. And he that sat upon the throne said, Behold, I make all things new. And he unto me, Write: for these words are true and faithful.” Revelation 21:4-5 Page 24 Oh come and let us adore him, Christ the Lord, “Fear not, little flock; for it is your Father’s good pleasure to give you the kingdom.” Luke 12:323. My heart is an open book; it yearns to come from within, that part of me that can never be told, by mere language alone to their verbal hearers. Because one has to not only have spiritual eyes that can see, but spiritual ears that can hear. But “Alas,” one is able to write these thoughts and prayers down, with the history of my victories and experiences. These words I have written by hand, and then typed, it brings it all back to life in vivid detail to me, as though it happened yesterday and continues to still happen again. “Remember this,” those who have ears to hear, it is not the individual words that matter so much, but the thought or the logon, behind the words. My tongue and pen fail me, because of the constraints of time, paper and ink, and can only be understood by “The Spirit,” of which I am writing these words. What I Am able to write, is more then just strokes of the pen, like an artist that is dabbing on a canvas, I am building a big picture, and that is what, I want you to see. I am alone and in a trance as I write these words; we have only one Lord Jesus Christ, and our Heavenly Father with the Holy Spirit. Even the words Lord Jesus Christ have the trinity imbedded in the title, Lord being the Father, Jesus being the Son and Christ being the anointing Spirit, which the word Messiah means translated “Anointed ” as with oil, which is one of the symbols of “The Holy Spirit”. What more do we need now but to have the fellowship with all the Saints that went before, and that will come after. Along with the heavenly host of Angels Apostles, Elders and our neighbors and family and friends on earth. All inclusive in the Body of Christ, that is one with The Father and Spirit, all in perfect harmony, like a huge Heavenly Orchestra with every sort of melody, harmony and nobody out of tune. Except for those who do not want to play, and are cast out by the Great Conductor, to polish the instruments of the redeemed. When all else fails in this life, even when our most beloved temporary or permanent family on earth collapses or is divided, our Heavenly and Spiritual Family is ever with us, and that’s the most important word of comfort, family and knowledge for us all. “Oh give thanks to The Lord for His perfect word of peace, knowledge and Union in Christ,” we are one in The Spirit. Page 25 I want to venture back to my spiritual narrative of my spiritual odyssey into the written realms of pictures of long ago places and long ago times, but still as real as the countries themselves, and the people who though, some have gone to be with The Lord and others, who are still here like me are still waiting for the fulfillment and continuation of the great spiritual road of life, and the journey that we all are traveling on together, some going one way on the road of life and others going the opposite way. (Like Faulkner, I am practicing a paragraph long sentence, not even Microsoft Word Document corrected me, ha ha, ho ho!) Soaring or flying in these ethereal realms it’s hard to come down and just narrate again sometimes... I want to stay here, in that realm, tomorrow is another day, there is music playing, that seems almost unbelievable, made in heaven, but played on earth. I am listening to my radio, stereo, and I do not recall such power, and glory in music, as I am now listening to, Richard Strauss, domestic symphony opus number something can’t recall but the music is awesome, beautiful! (Didn’t quite make a paragraph long sentence, did I) As you can see, I am writing these pages like a love letter to trusted friends, who know the beauty and glory of the scriptures, or who need to be inspired or who need the assurance of God’s forgiving Grace, from guilt and the condemnation of the heart. Ask Christ to come into your heart and ask him for the assurance of sins paid for and forgiven, and to walk in the power of The Spirit. He will not fail you, even if others do, He will never leave you nor forsake you, if you trust in Him. Holy, Holy, Holy, Lord God Almighty, which was, and is to come. Revelation 4:9; there is the number three again. “Oh come let us adore Him, Christ The Lord”, as someone hath said in the Christmas song. It is done, finished, on the cross. Come and let the Lord search our hearts to see if there is any wicked way in us. Let us speak to the Lord in whatever words of love, come from our mouths. He understands us, King David said “…I am so troubled that I cannot speak” Psalms 77:4. Yet did not the Lord hear him, even then when. The scriptures teach that “the Holy Spirit” intercedes for us, with groaning that are too deep to be uttered, or even articulated. (Romans 8:26) Does not God the Father know and hear with ears that are not made of flesh. Page 26 Oh that our eyes would be opened, to see. Not just our fleshly eyes, but the minds eye also. That is, our spiritual perception and vision to understand beyond even our simple human reasoning, when it conflicts with Gods word. When all is said and done, believe what is unbelievable to the material senses and ask God for wisdom and spiritual insight, peace, and tranquility that passes all human understanding, and above all, to see your way down the darkest paths. With only God’s word as you light, and the bear foot prints of the prophets in the dust before you, as you walk down the valley of the shadow of death. They could see what was really real and eternal, and not just temporal and corruptible. Oh don’t you just feel like shinning with the light of truth, about the things unseen but are everlasting. Things such as faith, love and kindness, and those things that enable, and empower us not to reach INTO THE FLESH WHEN PROVOKED. It is virtually impossible to take you back in my memories an and experiences without being inspired again. Transcending time and space, to spiritually be there again, and yet be in the now, blest and blessed. As Ken and I reached the coast of Sweden we then boarded a train and traveled south to Stockholm. We passed by a city called Kristianstad where I was born some twenty five years earlier. By the time this hand written portion of my manuscript is finished, it will be a sort of silver jubilee of a very special period in my life my youth and golden age period of ministry. But the best is yet to come; we don’t know to what extent the gifts we have, until we begin to use them. I was born on a Sunday that means something to me, its special when it corresponds with the name of the city I was born in, Kristianstad. We arrived in Stockholm to find a city like I have never seen before. My first visit to Sweden was through Gothenburg to the North West of Stockholm. With my pregnant wife Becky and my mother Ritva. On our way to Finland, for the first time. I especially remember how clean the Swedish Airline SAS was, how pristine, and the stewardess was so beautiful and blond, if I can remember. The food was great, fantastic, and we got a great rate from what I remember also, by flying standby. When we landed I realized where strawberry blonds originally came from, apparently the Vikings used to raid Scotland and Ireland not far to Page 27 the South of Gothenburg, and took brides with red hair, to mix with the primarily blond Scandinavians. From Gothenburg we traveled by train to east coast of Sweden, and then by ferry across the Baltic to Vassa, with just a short ride to Jurva. My wife was about three or four months pregnant with our son Michael Elijah, the train ride was pretty rough on her. Stockholm is like something out of a fairy tale, clean like a city I have ever seen before. Not a scrape of paper on the ground, so to speak. A city that was never bombed during the war, so still had the fairy tale Old World reddish brick structures. Streets so narrow, in the Old Town Section, that you could reach out and touch the walls on both sides, in some places. The tall church steeples, the magnificently chiseled features of the people, the crisp clean air, and a whole new world for me. When Ken and I arrived in Stockholm, on our way from Finland, we contacted a Finnish minister and ministered in one of his meetings. Then we made contact with a Christian Ministry called “MARANATHA”. “What a ride, what a trip what an odyssey, what an interesting group of people. The word Maranatha is from the New Testament which is related to the coming of the Lord Jesus, in a judgment context. Maranatha Ministry Church and Hotel is a sort walk from the train station. They are a contemporary Christian Ministry of primarily young people, in their twenties like Ken and I were. Maranatha operated out of a hotel building which operated like a hostel and they put Ken and I up for free, while we ministered with them, and too them. I don’t quite remember how we met them, it was street knowledge, we were looking for a place to stay and somehow found this ministry. The street scene was fantastic in Stockholm, it was the first time I had ever seen a street devoted just for pedestrian traffic. We might have met them there singing on walking street, or most likely we heard about them at the train station, when we were asking someone there, where we could check into a room or bed. I do remember on one of my journeys through Stockholm, seeing a fantastic English street singing group, making a lot of money, with what seemed like a hundred people gathered around them. However we met them, what a blessing, what a confirmation or affirmation, that we were on a great voyage, and that the Captain Jesus, was at the Helm of the Ship. We were walking on water; we had no prior contacts in these cities we were entering other then basic logistics. Page 28 We immediately identified ourselves into world view and ministry I remember especially Arnold Arnes, the Chief Minister of this commune of Jesus People, and they were waging a spiritual non-violent guerilla type style war, against evil forces in government and high and low places. These were truly a revolutionary people, in touch with the people on the street. They would sing out doors, in doors, everywhere and even over the air with a benign pirate radio station. I remember talking to Arnes, while he had his shirt off with one or two beautiful women attending him and giving him a chair message, on his large imposing body. I showed him a news article about ministering in Finland on my second journey from Finland to work with Maranatha in Stockholm. He then pulled out a huge a stack of newspaper articles mostly about their pirate radian station, and it and how it struck again in the city of Stockholm, and elsewhere In Southern Sweden I presumed. On this second missionary journey to Sweden afore mentioned concerning the radio station. It was used to get their Christian music and message out, because the government wouldn’t let them go on the air legally. Due to restrictions on freedom of religion and church state issues, dominated by the State Lutheran Church and so on. So called pirate radio stations were pretty common in Europe at the time, including rock and roll type and political stations. The second time I was there, I had another church member with me from San Anselmo named David Penland. He stayed behind and worked and lived with Maranatha for some time, before coming back home after briefly returning to. David used to attend a church ion Colorado called Happy Church; he also received training and worked with a street ministry called Agape Force He helped work on a school they were establishing in a large building they apparently bought, on a hill on the outskirts of Stockholm. I remember driving with them to the location; the driver had the radio station in his brief case in the back seat of the car. It was about the size of a citizens band radio transceiver, to my surprise. They told me they move it around so that they wouldn’t be caught with it. At the school location they gathered outside and ran an antenna way up a tree, and began to transmit. What a sensation it caused apparently, because of the stack of newspaper articles I saw in relation to it. Ken wasn’t with me on my return to Sweden, but was there with me when we broke through the ice, and made contact with this most unconventional group. Ken and I ministered in their Sunday Service at the hotel shortly after arriving, and ministered with them on Walking Street with their music group. I remember especially five Christian soldiers that David and I worked with witnessing and singing our way to the Promised Land, bringing people with us as we went. Page 29 It was all so searel, thinking back and trying to remember these two missionary journeys to Stockholm. The first time again being with Ken Hopkins, on our ground breaking entry into this city, and meeting and ministering with the Maranatha Church and Ministry. Then this second missionary journey with David Penland, which resulted with him staying behind and ministering with them. It’s like a dream, hard to separate the two journeys. It’s like looking at two mountains tops from a distance. With both looking side by side, where in reality they were miles from each other. It has all blended in my mind, to be one event in the whole, with many more such experiences to come, over the ten times that I have traveled to these and other foreign lands. Someday I would like to read an account of David’s experiences with Maranatha, and his subsequent return to Finland with a group of Christians. I remember one thing he told me, about how gracious the Finns were to him, and was even in a Sauna with some Christian Sisters and Brothers, with bathing suits on of course. My mind will drift back and forth at times, weaving a basket or tapestry of experiences, which will form a bowl, or picture, a beautiful picture, of people and experiences in their youth, and primes of their lives, both experiencing and living a dream. We were in our twenties, most of the people we could relate to the most, were in the same age category. I will never forget sitting on that green grassy knoll, while Brothers and Sisters wired and turned on their little Christian radio station while singing and praising The Lord, in front of their newly located and beautiful Bible School site. Somewhere in the green and beautiful world of another country, as dusk began to approach. What a memory, what excitement and enthusiasm what bravery and boldness, what a format able religious force to content with. For the people of Stockholm and Sweden altogether. I will never forget the amount of people on Walking Street, and the opportunity to be out there was life and witness. Page 30 When I was in Finland I thought of all the petty conflicts that were going on in my own County of Marin. In the Youth Revival Jesus People Community that I was a Pastor of and Evangelist. I attended a Black Church before becoming a pastor, which became a focus of interracial fellowship under the leadership of pastor/Evangelist Reverend Fred Small. That part of the late sixties early seventies revival was great. The part that got down right mean at times, was the jealousy that sprung up from a group of seminary students who could not understand at first how a person that was not part of their original community, could do the things that I could do. I felt like a new born baby with child like faith, a Bob Dylan, so to speak now, a leader of a movement. Who was getting beaten up all the time, every time I did something new at the time. I got criticized when I started street preaching by being was accused of screaming or yelling in public. When I began pasturing after we started Sunday Morning Services to accommodate the people we were began to reach, in a rented auditorium, I was eventually scorned or back bitten. When I began preaching and teaching about exorcism and demonology I was verbally accosted at my first Christian friends wedding by the performing minister. Yet through all this I survived and prospered, with all my critics eventually following in my footsteps. When I began to listen to Reverend William Braham tapes, the same minister sent or influenced my first Christian friend to confront me in my apartment. Family members began to question me about my sanity, even Jesus’ own brothers and sisters thought he had lost his mind and tried to grab him in Jerusalem, who could have known. If they did this in a green tree, what will happen in a dry, crucifixion no doubt. There is no way you can go foreword, without resistance, It’s the name of the game. Leadership demands that the leader becomes the spear point of the army, and first to be pierced if necessary. Only through the risk of sacrificial blood, can victory or glory be accomplished. Other wise one must stay at home, and keep the home fires burning, to use a military analogy. Maybe this is my final justification, my final word on the subject, of harassment persecution and judgment. Maybe I have the last word, maybe the first shall be last and the last first, it all comes around again. I remember the thing that a fellow minister did to me, by departed older brother and our little congregation that hurt me the most. A neighboring pastor started a Christian book store, and behind it he had his office. All the Christians had to come to the book store because it was the only one in the county. When another one tried to open this minister ended up buying them out. I remember him with these bookshelves in his arms from the book store that went under. He wrote many books, the first book was about homosexuality and Christianity, and he lured away our organ player and most prominent member, with a promise of an office if he left our little Church. This organ player had started a ministry while a member of our congregation to reach out to homosexuals called Brother Frank Ministries. He being in that lifestyle for some twenty years after his Church of Christ Pastor introduced him to homosexuality while a young organ player. One of our members Mike Payton worked for him and his live in lover and partner. After Mike came to the lord in one of our Friday night dinner meetings, Frank Worthen began to notice a change in his life. Frank eventually became despondent and was seriously consider suicide. Due to his age and inability to attract young men to engage in sex with. Michael had the keys to the seminary chapel where we met on Sundays, and took him in a prayed with him to rededicate his life to the Lord. Frank eventually came to our Sunday morning service, with his head cocked in his hand, like he was bored, tired or sleeping. Afterwards we asked Michael, if he enjoyed the service, and Michael said yes. “Well lo and behold”, he came again, and again and eventually became our organ player and a deacon in our church. "What a man", he was so generous with his time, money, talent and goods from his store which he owned called Black Market import and export, the largest in Marin County. He and Michael together spear headed a thrift store for the Church, and started the inventory with surplus goods from his Import Export store called, The Black Market. Frank traveled internationally collecting and buying goods for his store, especially in Asia, where he eventually years later spent time as a missionary in the Philippians. his store was the largest import export business in Marin County. One day Frank came to me and told me a ministry that he had started, to reach the homosexual community for Christ. he named it Brother Frank Ministry. He put a add in the paper and sent free cassettes out to anyone that inquired, with his testimony how he became free in Christ. He asked me if he could play his tapes on our Church Radio program fours times, once a week. He was so very resident about asking, because he didn’t want anyone in the church to be offended. For he had not made it openly public, that he was in the homosexual lifestyle yet. This was the beginning of what would eventually become the largest ministry in the world, to reach the homosexual community for Christ. I had the privilege of being the first person to put Frank Worthen’s message on the air. Page 32 Later on he would be on national television talk shows like for instance, Phil Donohue, and so on. On another day, some time later, Frank had a dream in which he felt the Lord wanted him to contact Kent Philpot, a neighboring pastor, whose office was behind the Church Bookstore. Unbeknown to Frank was that Kent was working on his first book on Christianity and homosexuality, called The Third Sex. This was a message from God, be later on Frank told me that he also had another dream, that I was his elder. Kent was ecstatic no doubt about this miracle of Frank contacting him, after being in the lifestyle of the people Kent was trying to reach, with his book through the Church Community. Kent put Franks Worthen's Ministry and the way toy contact Frank, in this new book. What a break for both Kent and Frank, this would be the beginning of a long working relationship together. But it also would be the end of Agape Church’s and my own working relationship with Frank, due to Kent’s insistence that he quite his fellowship with our church, and work exclusively with his, and Church of the Open Door in San Rafael California. The only referral we ever got to our church in San Anselmo from the book store was a person called Leonard Childers. Someone they tried to move on, because he seemed kind of weird and not very on the ball. Leonard is one of the few, if only person from the past, as I write this, who still try's to contact me," God Bless him”! Well anyways Kent went on to do everything in his power, to gobble up our little church. We resisted, due to the fact that we needed diversity in our county of Marin, where as Kent wanted to dominate everything. He once admitted to me that he was like a bull in a China cabinet. We were never into meanness nor harshness, nor pride. Eventually the stress, pressure and the siphoning off of our members, including an attempt to persuade my brother Broink, to leave me behind and bring what was left of our church fellowship, under the Open Door umbrella. That, plus the stress of an international ministry, where I felt I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders, contributed to the collapse of my family, which is a whole other story, and a whole other book. When a man can’t carry his own weight anymore, when he can’t be a man and a provider anymore, in the work that he loves the most. It is the greatest cross, that anyone can bear, but I have born it and survived, thrived and forgiven. I have learned, the hard way, that it takes seven years to forgive, but twenty years to forget. People told me after my divorce, to move on with your life, but when you have nothing to move on with, it’s just a bunch of rhetoric. I suppose he who has the last word, is the winner, if so I am a winner. Page 33 When all is said and done, I am like a ball, a world, blue green and brown, all mixed up together, spinning, rotating and swinging around the Sun, as the moon swings around me, and the solar system around the galaxy, and the galaxy around the universe, all things come back, to where they started, let’s hope and pray, that we are the same person when we return, and have become better and perfected, in the process. I just learned that Leonardo De Vinci discovered that the human heart has a vortex, the blood spins, and the heart twists like a piece of cloth wringing out the blood. I had discovered that the Universe spins, and now also discovered that the Atom spins also. Everything that goes around, comes back around eventually, in some way or form, good bad or ugly, rewards or punishments, let’s sow seeds of love, truth and forgiveness, for it will all come back to embrace us, forgive us, or punish us, so we truly punish ourselves, forgive ourselves, and Christ is the referee, judge and whipping boy for all our un forgiveness and follies. Because his father made us and his father will forgive and maintain us, if we’ll only let Him, because He gave us the gift of freewill to love Him and worship Him as a son. Or slave for him and His children, as a servant. When all is said and done, we will either be a first class citizen of The Kingdom of God, or a second class citizen. We will all be there, either in the Golden City, or outside doing all the dirty work. As Saint Paul taught in the New Testament, that in a great house, some vessels are made for honor, and some vessels are made for dishonor, you can either be a golden chalice in the hands of a King, or you can be a chamber pot, or sewer pipe. All are necessary; all will be there, which one will you be. As for me, I will be a son, and not a servant, not by my will power, but the power of the will and testament that was left me that I have to show up for, and receive. It all comes down to love or fear, will you serve out of love or fear of punishment, do you love punishment, or do you love unconditionally. Whatever we love, it will embrace us, embrace the giver of love, or embrace your punishment, the choice is yours. The reason we have suffering in this world, is so we will have a reference point, to appreciate joy. In the Garden of Eden, the forbidden fruit of the tree was of good and evil, not just Page 34 evil. We will reap what we sow, the fact that good is stronger then evil in this life, is the fact of God’s forgiveness, and the giving of His Son. The reason that Abraham is called the father of faith, is because even after God told him to sacrifice his son, he didn’t doubt or weaver. Even though God told him that his seed would be blessed through Isaac, and now was told to not only sacrifice his son like a lamb, but to offer him up as a burnt offering, believing that God would raise him back up from the ashes. Isaac like Jesus was the willing lamb, he could have fought his father and resisted, but didn’t, he even carried his own wood on his back for the sacrifice, like Jesus did on his own back, and laid his life down trusting in his father, to the very end. The end being love and resurrection from the ashes of pain, which will never last forever, only goodness will. In every dark night, there is a spot of white, in every bright light, there is a dark spot. Evil is the imbalance of the two, whose finger will tip the scale. There is no such thing as total evil in mankind, nor total good, only in God there is total or ultimate good. Some would say that you cannot survive ultimately on just good, or ultimate good. That evil is stronger then good, Well Satan thought that also, and resisted, and lost, but even in the bible written by the ultimate good, states that make no rivaling accusations against him. I am starting to spin, into a wheel, traveling, not staying motionless, but moving, with tears in my eyes of happiness, bitter sweet, like the name of Mary, the earthy mother of Jesus, whose name means bitterness, or bitter or salty tears, tears are good, tears are bad, salt is good, salt is bad. Mariyam means salty of bitter waters, or sea. We get our word maritime, from the Latin Mare which means sea or ocean. In Heaven all tears will be wiped away by God, the Ultimate Goodness. Our English word God, comes from the Old English word good, which was spelled god. Even in Heaven, there will be tears of joy, where do you think the oceans came from? My gift of wisdom is in gear, and I am traveling down the highway, not standing still, but in motion, the prayer wheel is turning. The wheel inside the wheel, that Ezekiel the prophet witnessed. I am the wheel inside the wheel, a gear inside the Holy machinery, when I squeak; Jesus gives me the oil of the Holy Spirit. I am humming like a well built car, and maintained by the Master Mechanic. Wheels do not spin in place, perceptively speaking, but all are traveling, even though the wheels inside the wheels of a car, seem to be in place, they are really traveling through time, line. Which way are you traveling, down this one way, two lane road. Page 35 When I asked Frank some time later about the second dream that he had, about me being his elder. He didn’t know quite what to say, except that began to doubt the second dream, or wasn’t sure about its interpretation? I have no doubt and thankfully Frank never ever spoke ill of me or our little church. In fact the church of the Open Door never spoke about our little church, unless it was in the negative. Or at least I have never heard anything positive about us through the leadership. There were two other churches besides our little Agape Church congregation that stated meeting on Sunday morning, after we had established ourselves for some period of time. We were an inspiration for all three other churches that began, by the same group of Southern Baptist Seminary students. In ministry there is always the temptation for jealousy and rivalry. One way to escape, is to get outside oneself and seek other greener pastures. When a church ceases its mission to reach out to the lost, it begins to try a take other member from other churches, claiming greater revelations. What greater revelation could there be, b8t to introduce people to the great revelator Jesus Christ. Saint Paul talks about those becoming desirous of teaching the law, when the love of loves the greatest lesson of them all. Going back to my original thought, back in inland, where the doors were opening and I was receiving more invitations to speak in one month, then in all my Christian ministry in Marin County. Truly a prophet is not without honor, except in his own country and his own house. Again I thought how small and petty was the strife and completion, and jealousy mixed with pride. Were the conflicts I experienced in Marin, from my fellow ministers and pears? It seems like a giant ship wreak sometimes, when a mighty galleon strikes a reef on a far away shore, and the crew has to mix with the natives, and share the basics with them again. Until another giant galleon is constructed, and the life and death process begins again, spreading the precious seeds of knowledge to the world. “Oh God, let it not have to be that way, let us steer the ships to the pleasant shores, and peaceful share that gospel of peace, to the world” Page 36 “Oh that we could all continually be in a state of love and revival, far above all the petty criticism that hurts and harms our selves and families that relay on us. When we bite and devour one another, we consume one another. Let us look back from the mountain top and realize how harmful it is to all living beings to senselessly harm one another with hurtful and fearful words. Let us pick up ourselves in The Lord and march on to our goal Zion, the beautiful City of God, as this my personal and spiritual journey takes us through the reading of this book, to Israel. Where we shall finally reach that earthly and symbolic destination of Zion CHAPTER THREE DENMARK The next country we entered was Denmark, we went an address we got in the states from a Christian Minister named Dave Malkin, who had a ministry called Action Life Ministries who we I knew in the San Fernando Valley. He had traveled here with a plane load of young people, and caused a sensation in Denmark during the Jesus Movement area. After they left the local Christians he worked with, remodeled a six story two hundred year old street front building, not far from Walking Street. Named SOLI DE GLORIA, apparently by the original owner, from the name on small stone plate on the door lentil. Here we found a band of merry men, in the Lord. Ken Hopkins and his music were so welcome, we were both so welcomed. The inside of the building was built like a super commune for Christ. Inside was a huge meeting space area redesigned by a Christian brother, who was also an architect. It was all open in the middle, at least four stories up. The architect also was a member of the commune, and he lived there also. Here we found some of the warmest Christian family, who would go to the main walking street and distribute a gospel magazine, and witness for Jesus in general. (I will never forget those experiences), as we make our way to the earthly City of God, Jerusalem. Page 37 We were invited to minister in the live-in house ministry, and head quarters of their over all ministry. We were also invited to a place called Christiania. A village within the city of Copenhagen, that was once a former military facility, or some kind of government property. We were taken to a city, within a city, where poor people, hippies, free thinkers and even a Christian ministry, had taken over a house, among a cluster of houses and buildings that were abandoned by the government. These buildings and houses were quite nice, by our standards, but had no gas or electricity. So we ministered by the warmth of Christian love and candle light, and witnessed healing miracles as we prayed for the open hearted young people that lived there after sharing our music and the word. The last I heard, not too long ago, that Christiania the abandoned military or government facility, is still occupied today in 2005, and thriving low income community.. One day while sitting, or standing in the sun light of the beautiful Walking Street. A place that banned cars like in Stockholm, and allowed only pedestrians. I was talking to a beautiful Christian brother from the House Ministry headquarters, where we were staying. He talked about his Christian magazine that we were distributing to the passer bys. When we were asked by a well dressed businessman, if we what were distributing was a Communist Newspaper? We said no “Christian,” he had on his suit a Communist party pin pinned on his lapel, underneath, where nobody could see. He said that he was a member of the Communist Party, and hated it. He went on to say that he had to be a member of The Party to do business with the country of Poland, and was not a Communist. He was a Swedish Citizen who traveled and did business in Poland, this was approximately in 1975, and he further went on to say “do you want to hear a joke, there are no Communist in Poland”, then gave a nevus laugh. He was also ashamed that to be a Swedish Citizen, and to have join he Polish Communist Party, to do business in Poland. It’s no joke about virtually no Communist is Poland; some years later I heard that ninety percent of Poles were Catholic. It’s a shame that the Polish Communist Party used America’s doctrine of Separation of Church and State, to remove the crosses from the Polish Public schools, before its eventual fall. I only regret that the man, felt he had to trade his values, to do trade in Poland. It kind of reminded me how in the book of Revelation, no man would be able to buy of sell, without the Mark of the Beast which is 666. The beasts name apparently, when translated to for instance to Hebrew roman or even Greek if I’m not mistaken, has a numeral power. Page 38 This was before the Arabic numerals that we now use, were used, for instance Roman numerals, so very name has a potential numeral value Some basically non Christians I’ve met, have tried to say the Ronald Wilson Reagan spells 666 in the past, due to the six letters in each word. I believe, because the Beast, or the Anti-Christ, as this last world ruler will be, and is called, as Saint John also said, in one of his epistles, even now there are many anti-christs. So because Babylon's like anti-Christ's are timeless, in the sense that they have always been with us, from the beginning. After Cain slew Able, a type of the first anti-Christ, or anti-anointed one. Cain built a city after he fled, which was the first type of Babylon, and whose descendant went on to built The City of Babel. So we went from the Garden of Eden, to the City of Babylon as a human race, and now with the coming of Jesus Christ we are entering the spiritual city whose builder and maker is God, a refuge from the world, and all that lies in the world, until we walk on the streets of gold, in the New Jerusalem. Abraham saw that city. He lived in that city spiritually speaking. He dwelt in Heavenly place commuting with God, his friend. He also saw the coming of Christ, when he was about to sacrifice his son, the heir of the promise, believing that God would raise him back from not only death, but from the ashes after he had burnt him on the alter, with the wood that Isaac carried on his back, like Christ caring his cross to the hill, willingly, like a willing sacrificial lamb, obedient to his father unto death, until God stopped him and said, now I know that you will not withhold anything from me. My personal theory on the number 666 is that first, it is the number of man, for God made on the sixth day. Second I believe, or have a theory, that it has a three strike element to it, a strike against each member of the Trinity, wherefore there one left to save. But I also believe, it is the numeral power of a The Antichrist, and somehow the number that is given to all who want to trade with him has a computer composite. A membership card to be memorized in the forehead, or held in ones hand, a card with a chip in it or implanted of tattooed, to be laser scanned. There is something about reducing people to a number, or numbering people that is found so offensive, and all those who promote numbering people, to be under suspicion. The Jews were tattooed with numbers forcibly. Page 39 The ultimate indignity fore and orthodox, to be tattooed. Since it is forbidden in the Old Testament, to mark your body, with the exception of having a pierced ear. King David numbered the people of Israel, and was punished for doing it. I don’t know whether he assigned a number to each person, or just wanted a census of his nation’s strength or population. I suspect the people were all given a number, corresponding with their status in life, such as a wife or warrior. However God found it to be offensive, either by the hardship at the time of having a census, or the way it was done, or by the sear humility of being reduced to a number, instead of a name. It’s interesting that census taken by Augustus Caesar caused Mary and Josef to leave Nazareth and come to Bethlehem, the city one’s ones birth, Jesus was born. It was in the winter, then it could get really cold in Bethlehem, being some two thousand feet or more above sea level, with forest and snow sometimes., it sure was a hardship, not to find an empty room at the Inn, how many people have turned, the Son of God away, and expect him to take them in. The bottom line is this; it is easier for a camel to go through the eye of a needle, then for those who trust in riches to enter the Kingdom of Heaven. When someone trusts in uncertain riches, above having faith in God to provide. It hurts some else, every one else suffers, it breaks the harmony of God’s plan and provision for all. It is a tear in the fabric of life; it is a crack in the pot of water meant for us all. Every homeless person has relatives, unless they are orphans, then God says that He will be their father, if they will only trust in him. Let us be patient and wait and never sell our principles for a piece of bread or castles in the sand, as so many have done throughout the ages. But let us remember that “The meek shall inherit the earth,” and I might add, with all its castles and glory going to Gods People. If not is this life, then in the first resurrection, when we will reign with Christ during the millennium, for a thousand years. We will inherit the last thousand years of this earth’s history. I’m starting to feel like this book is developing into a spiritual odyssey, based upon the greatest period of trumpet in my Christian ministry. This is like a dream come true to write about this journey and tie in all important events and Theology that I have learned prior, to and immediately after this journey, and to this day in October 16, 2005. What a journey for a young man, what a blessing! Page 40 While in Denmark and staying a guests in the huge beautiful Soli De Glori live in commune, and ministry. We were taken to the great stone or cement Apostolic Pentecostal Church building in Copenhagen. Where we were seated, and Ken Hopkins, my associate was asked to minister in music. I and Ken had both been asked to minister that same morning at another Pentecostal Church called Elim, at the same time Sunday Morning. We both came to this church out of respect for Soli De Glori ministry, because we were their guests, and this was their home Church. I was impressed by the huge amount of people at the Apostolic Church and the size of the building in general. At Elim Church were Ken and I only ministered briefly a few days earlier, was a store front intenerate building that led into a huge large impressive congregation room, able to seat hundreds of people. The Pastor at Elim only originally had a brief time for to minister and introduce ourselves, then asked us to come and minister on Sunday morning. There was a spirit revival and liberty at Elim, and a slightly more formal atmosphere here at the Apostolic. Probably because Elim Church more directly located downtown near walking street, and they sang outdoors after Sunday Services on walking street. After the twelve minutes or so that we originally ministered in word and song, the young, mature and energetic pastor the Church invited us back, but I was having trouble believing he was serious, just getting to Denmark, and never being here before. I had a moment of doubt, and again out of courtesy when to The Apostolic church, conflicted, just to have Ken minister alone because we always worked as a team. I thought “what good fortune from God”, to be invited to stay and minister at one ministry, and be invited to minister in another church, so soon after arriving. I usually takes a week do the ground breaking in a new city, before serious ministry begins, but we were on a whirlwind here, even the week we spent in Stockholm, was more of a ground breaking, or combination of two separate journeys there, the second coming later, no doubt our welcome was connected to David Malkin’s Ministry that proceeded. But the Elm Church invitation was out of the blue, except they new that we were staying at Soli De Glori which was a good reference. Even though Ken and I have always worked as a team, I was willing to take a back seat. Then the service began, it was quite and the message was about communion, if my memory and notes serves me Page 41 right. Communion services tend to be more solemn remembering the terrible suffering of Jesus on the cross, and the blood he shed and paid for all of our transgressions, it is only a fitting memorial and remembrance of that price paid. We all want to be remembered and both mourned and rejoiced over through history by our families. How much more should we remember that day that God the Son gave his life, in the presence of his father and Holy Spirit, for the sins of the world. All of a sudden during the beginning of the service, I began to feel The Holy Spirit moving in my heart. My heart started pounding, my hands started getting sweaty, I felt the way someone feels when they have a prophecy. But I knew I was not having a prophecy or message for the congregation I was in. But The Lord was telling me to leave the congregation, and go to Elim Church where we both had an invitation to minister. The problem was how we were going to gracefully bow out of the service, without being rude or insulting to our host, and congregation. I finally couldn’t hold the feeling and the witness of the Spirit in, any longer. I knew that Elim Church had already started its Sunday morning service also, at the same time that we were here. I turned to Ken and shared with him what I felt the Lord was telling me, he understood perfectly even though he was invited to sing in a large congregation. We then began to discreetly leave the service from somewhere in the back of the congregation. We were in a revival mode and revival wasn’t happening that Sunday morning, the service was quite normal and not in need of any special attention. Routine might even be the proper word to express our feelings, but you never know under the surface, what revival might be brewing in a congregation. As we exited out from the back of the church, through the double doors and great Romanesque pillars of the church, sure enough out host noticed us leaving, even though we were sitting towards the back of the congregation. He asked us what was wrong, and reiterated that Ken was scheduled to play, we poetized and amazingly we were able to convey to him that the Lord was speaking to us, about talking the invitation to minister at Elim. I knew that we had only a brief window of opportunity to catch a taxi cab and rush towards downtown, from somewhere in the semi-suburbs. The timing Page 42 seemed impossible first to flag down a cab, then to get there in time to minister. We were counting on the congregation singing to last long enough at Elim, to slide in just in time to minister in music as well as the written and spoken word and pray for the sick. The feeling that the Lord was speaking to me, was so strong, that I went ahead in spite of all the obstacles and doubts. Sure enough, we got to the church, in spite of the downtown traffic, with originally maybe only a twenty minute window of opportunity to get there, and low and behold the congregation singing was not only over, but the pastor had his head down with the congregation, giving the closing prayer, that’s how late we were. As we went foreword, lo and behold we found two seats available, in the front row of the congregation, while everybody’s heads were bowed, we slipped foreword and sat down. Now I was really praying, when he lifted his head up, would he call us foreword to minister, even though it seemed like this was his closing prayer. Was this the Lord’s leading or just mine. My heart was in my throat, so to speak, or was it my faith that was being challenged. “Lo and behold,” he looked up, saw us sitting in the front row saw us sitting there, and called us up to minister. It was a miracle, from there on our faith was excitedly increased, that we were on God’s mission and He would honor His word to all those who obey and seek to do His will. The fields are white and ready to be harvested, pray that the Lord of the fields sent in laborers (Luke 10:2). That is a prayer that will always be answered, all God asks is that one does not do it for personal pride, inordinate riches or lust. I remember on a subsequent return visit to Copenhagen, on another mission and in another year. I went to the same church and went out with a street performing choir. During the singing a drunk young Asian came up to the group on walking street, and started railing the primarily young women singing, and crying out loud that he had the spirit, waving a bottle of alcohol in the air and wearing a military type shirt. Well I watched, as a hundred people or so stopped to see what the commotion was, or weather that man would succeed, or be dealt with by the Lord. Up to that point nobody had stopped to listen to the music. I suppose it was routine for the choir or group to sing every Sunday afternoon. But now a large crowd instantly formed, to watch the drama, and they weren’t disappointed. I also was in awe of the singers, their youth beauty and boldness. Page 43 All of a sudden, the man was forced to his knees before the young men and women singing. I was near the edge of the large singing group, what I witnessed was astonishing. He started crying, forced to his knees by the unseen power of God, this man who dared mock His people, was made to kneel before them crying. Some of the young women went to him and began ministering to him, while the crowd like me, were in total surprise and awe, words find it hard to describe sometimes. but as many miracles as I’ve seen, I am still amazed when I see another one before my very eyes. God was not mocked, He came to the defense of those who were glorifying His name, even though I felt more like a spectator at this time, yet I was still in the group, and singing and praising The Lord with them. After the young women took him behind the choir line to further comfort of minister to him. I came up to him to see what I could do, and witness further this miracle, he then looked at me a man instead of a women and seemed to snap out of his daze and took off . Page 44 CHAPTER FOUR GERMANY We found that usually we would have to leave the country or city, to the next destination on Mondays. Due to the fact that we needed to familiarize ourselves with the next country, make contact wash laundry, find grocery store and find a hotel or place to stay, before the next Sunday service. By then we are refreshed and ready to minister again, after getting necessary logistics out of the way. Just to find a store or even a place to do laundry is quite a challenge, in a foreign and unfamiliar country or environment. If I’ve been to a foreign city or country before, the logistics are much simpler and I am able to start ministering almost right away. Trust me, it takes a week just to find out where you are and settle down. I know I am repeating myself on this point, but it can’t be emphasized enough, just to make contact with a local church, is a challenge, when looking for an open door and invitation to minister. It usually starts with being invited to give my testimony, then after that initiation the invitations start flowing. The hardest part, and the easiest part is giving that testimony, after being so spiritually pumped up from the last country or city that It’s hard and tempting to be proud, and hard to consent sent to merely giving your testimony of your travels, and how Christ came into your heart. After teaching and preaching your heart out to willing and giving and receiving audiences. But it has to be done the humble road leads to greatness and gratitude, everyone wants to be an emperor a conqueror, what people are looking for are true servants of The Lord. Meanwhile Kenneth and I boarded a train in Copenhagen, after a week of ministry and making contacts. This was our first venture into Demark, now Germany lay at our doors steps. I have never been to Germany before, this was another great adventure. We sat in the first class coach section with our Eurail pass, which we could only buy in America at the time, before we left. Our plan was to sleep over night in the couch, with its seats that fold down into beds, to save hotel money, and wake up in our next destination of Munich Germany. My only contact in Germany was a group I meet on a ship called the Apollonia in the Page 45 middle of the Mediterranean Sea on a Sunday morning, where these German Christian traveling pilgrims to Israel, from the Munich YMCA had gotten permission to have a Sunday morning Service on the ship, and announced it over the public address system. I had met the leader a day or so earlier on board, and a member or two of the tour group. I was apologetically assured that the YMCA in Germany, or which he was secretary of the Munich branch, was not secularized, like ones he visited in The United States. We both understood the need to be Born Again, and not just have the name Christian tagged on you. I was traveling deck class, fifty dollars all the way from Athens Greece, to Haifa Israel, with stop over in briefly in Ephesus Turkey, where we toured the famous ruins and place where Saint John was exhaled to the Island of Patmos, where he wrote the Book of Revelation. Also I was shown, or pointed to a small building on a hill, where Mary was said to have ascended to Heaven, not really knowing the story, or her grave ever being found, to my knowledge, am open to the tradition. I was shown the site of one of the seven wonders of the Ancient world, The Temple of Diana, or what was left of it, foundation stones in a swamp like setting, is all I remember. I also remember traveling for what seemed three miles on a bus, over flat scrubby and dusty plains, until arriving in Ephesus, which was once a port city near the mouth of the river meander. But due to deforestation, the river silt filled the harbor for miles outward over the thousands of years. We were nowhere near water anymore, “what an environmental lesson”. Another site I was shown was the ruins of an ancient church, called The Church of Saint John, where his grave is said to be, under the church. It was quite interesting and moving, and fit in with the story of Mary, to a certain degree, because Jesus on the cross gave charge of his mother, to Saint John, so t stands to reason that he brought her to Ephesus with him. How the grave of such an important women, has never been found, to my knowledge, is such a mystery. After walking down the ancient main cities ruins, which were likened to the ruins of Ancient Corinth. Where I spent a week with John Newton, on my first ground breaking journey to Greece. I found ancient Corinth to be much more marvelous and intriguing, in its own way. Greece is such a more cosmopolitan and happy place, where as Ephesus was remote, distant, in the past, yet real. as I stood in the ancient amp there, where Saint Paul and Silas were dragged before the raging mob, incited by Demetrius the silversmith, who made idols of Diana, I found myself saying out loud “Great is Jesus Christ,” whereas the people yelled, “Great is Diana of Ephesus.” Who won that great debate! history is very clear. Page 46 So here my mind drifted back, to the beginning and end, drifting wandering floating through all these mental, supernatural and spiritual experiences. Tying all things together into this tapestry, a carthorse with a story. Now back to the ship, drifting in the past, yet coming up to it again. John Newton and I were asked to minister, in the middle of this ocean, who would have expected and invitation here, we heard them sing, we spoke of our mission and adventure, we made friends, then I met them again on Mount Tabor in Israel, what a divine reunion. So here I am again, on a train, traveling towards destiny, not knowing what awaits me. Other then the letter I wrote to the YMCA secretary, acknowledging our voyage, and coming together at last, full circle, another miracle of traveling to the Holy Land. I did not wait for a reply, from my letter, because we were traveling very quickly now, I just knew we had to go through Germany. As our train went past Hamburg in the middle of the night, sleep was taking its effect; I could see the skyline up close, not much else. When I awoke, we were somewhere in the country side, beautiful country not at all flat like Finland, southern Sweden Denmark and even the northern Germany where we had passed the night before. All of a sudden two German businessmen came into the cabin, we put up the seats and one of them opened the train window for some fresh air. With a slight look of who were these people, after exchanging polite proper greetings they proverbially woke up and got animated, telling us things as were rolled along the sunny blue skied an green hilled day with patches of forest. We were traveling onward south east when one of the businessmen pointed to a long fence that divided Germany from east to west, he was disgusted. We soon came to an amazing part of Germany with its Marin County like scenery; I saw the river winding around fairy tale looking castles and forest covered knolls. I was the closest thing I have ever seen to the county I lived in, it was the Rhineland. We eventually rolled into a large modern train station while the sun was still shinning, in Munich Germany. I remember seeing the largest newest electric train engine that I have ever seen. Little did I know that the summer Olympics were to be held there, it seemed like in just months or within the year. Page 47 We got off the train in the middle of town and went straight for the German YMCA. It was all so very beautiful and clean, the city and the YMCA. We checked into beautiful clean room and contacted the secretary of the YMCA. He had been expecting us, but we were at least a week or so late. He joked about Pentecostal timing, and immediately drew us into their world, and hospitality. He introduced me to a well built tall blond haired German Christian brother, that would be our guide friend and translator during our stay there. We began to minister the first night we were there, at their beautiful modern coffee house and restaurant on the first floor of the YMCA, with a street view. Ken was asked to sing and I was asked to speak and introduce myself. I remember one Christian Brother had a drink or three, due to the fact that they served beer there and wine I suppose. But he was very friendly, I just wasn’t accustomed to the thought that YMCA’S served all these things, but I was learning. Nevertheless it was a meeting, Ken’s music was appreciated, and so was my presence and presentation. They had regular fellowship meetings in the restaurant, and of course it was a way to evangelize the public also. Later on we walked around down town Munich which was only a few blocks away to Main Street. I was amazed how clean and beautiful the city was, the people dressed so perfect, even the hippies in Europe had custom cut hair. But to my surprise, right down town where everything was spotless, was a huge billboard with entirely nude women on it. It seemed out of place and in congress with the whole atmosphere, but then again this is Europe. I saw similar scenes, on a smaller scale right in my mother’s home village of Tinusjurva Jurva. Then again on a back street in Stockholm, and even more in the porno capital of Europe, at the time, Copenhagen Denmark. When crossing the border to Germany, officers wearing crisp green uniforms boarded the train and asked passengers if they were carrying pornography into Germany. Child porn is apparently the most controversial obviously, which is abundant in Scandinavia. Also literally every supermarket in Finland for instance has nude women on covers of magazines right out in the open. Well that’s Finland, Sweden, Denmark where nudity is no big deal, especially with sauna’s being so common and communal bathing is understood, even with children and entire families. But child pornography or more explicit sex with children is the worse. Page 48 Remember what Jesus taught concerning offending those little ones that believe in him, it would be better for great millstone to be tied to that ones neck and cast into the deepest sea. (Matthew 18:6). We were taken on a tour the next day, and witnessed the Great Arch where Hitler paraded his child killing brown shirts through the city, before he attempted his coupe and with to prison with his right hand man in tow, wearing lederhosen in prison, becoming a popular folk hero and writing his autobiography Mien Kopf. We were also shown the bar he used to drink in, next to the Arch. We were then taken to Walking Street and Ken played his Guitar and I did my preaching. There is a picture a www.tvbn.com if you click around enough. I eventually made a black and white cloth sign, to put on my back that said “JESUS SAVES”. We were taken to English park, where we also preached and Ken sang, we have a photo also, that will be put on the web. English Park now today in 2005 has a nude sun bathing section in it also, but back then it didn’t. Somewhere along the line, we met with the rest of the troupers who sang, witnessed and ministered where ever people would listen. Chief among them was a beautiful healthy looking German Christen girl, who joined us in our evangelism on the streets, I think her name was Bergit or Brigit. Pictures will be available, and at one point a beautiful Nun came up to us just to smile and show her appreciation for what we were doing in public, especially with my black and white sign on my back a picture of her beauty in her full habit, will be available. Things are kind of a blur in my mind these many years later, as far as timing, sequence and chronological order of these events, but the images are clear. We met another Christian Brother who heard the phrase “JESUS PEOPLE” and saw the words on my back “JESUS SAVES”. My, now that I think about it some thirty years later, with the help of my hand written manuscript from 1995, that sign was very effective. As you will learn later on in this typed 2005 journal when we get to Greece. When I was writing my hand written manuscript, I was in a trance, or spell as the word Gospel means, good spell. I had to have been, to remember the things I did, so many years before. In fact the entire twelve hundred page manuscript. was written, while in a trance like state. I do not mean to scare anyone, this type written manuscript is a little harder to write, the trance like state comes and goes, and in huge places, I write freely from the original manuscript in the sense, that I drift off into a whole new book. In other words, I am using the original manuscript, as a sort of a template. Future generations can compare between the two, such as in the millennium and read between the lines, as history is being made. Hello to all my friends on the internet, that will be reading, the history that we made together. Page 49 Well back to the Christian Brother that was so excited about seeing Ken and I in front of the only McDonalds we saw in Europe. His name is Klaus Publichousen, that is as close as I can come to remembering how to spell his name at this time. He became a tremendous friend, took us to his chicken ranch and Christian live-in house ministry on the rural outskirts of Munich. He was the leader of the Teen Challenge Ministry that operated the ranch and ministry, to help addicts get off drugs and on to the love of Jesus Christ. He was a handsome man, who looked like an English aviator captain, tall with dark blond hair and a wisp of a movie star mustache that looked like Errol Flynn. A few years later he came to California and visited and ministered to us in San Anselmo, a picture will be available on the net www.tvbn.com. I look forward to meeting him again, after all these decades. The Christian Brother who translated for Ken and I as we ministered on the streets and park, took us to a second YMCA hotel or hostel located in Munich. There in the dormitory where one can stay without renting a whole room, was a beer machine. I thought that was funny, remembering that Munich is the beer capital of the world not only Germany. Beer was so common that nobody ever really got drunk, at least not in public, except for one German young man, who was obviously drunk in public. But very friendly and spoke with a thick America G.I. accent, so that told me right away where he learned to over drink. Although I don’t remember meeting any American soldiers, I knew there were NATO Bases all around Germany. No where did I see alcohol abuse in Germany at all, in general. But in Sweden and Finland I did, Scandinavians and Finns can’t hold their liquor, as well as a Germans. But I hear when Germans in Bavaria have a party such as Oktoberfest, they could drink you under the table. I almost got slugged in Sweden by a drunk, when I tried to break up a fight between two drunks. In Finland I’ve seen vomit on the floor on a train, and people vomiting on the boat to Sweden, this would be unheard of in Germany. These are just observations I have made, not judgments. Page 50 I myself had a couple of beers on the boat to Sweden from Finland on a subsequent visit and mission there, it seemed like everyone on the boat this time, was passed out, or asleep. This boat left from Helsinki, so it was an over niter to Stockholm, and many people decided to just sleep anywhere they could, everywhere, on the floors, couches seats and as far as I’m concerned on the luggage racks, and it was a large vessel. The only people that where sitting upright, there were my friend David Penland, a group of singing Christians who were sitting at a table, sober and awake. When you’re traveling deck class, it’s hard to judge people for drinking beer, just to go to sleep. Many years later one of these type of ships sank on the way to Sweden, with hundreds of people drown when the bow hatch of the ship worked open by storm waves. The place where they drive the cars, into the boat. It could have been the very ship that we were on, there were hundreds, and if not a couple of thousand people on board this ship we were on. Another place that we ministered was at a charismatic service held in Saint Boniface Church in Munich. I can’t remember how we got the invitation, but I think it was Klaus that told us about it. Klaus was Assembly of God Pentecostal Christian in his beliefs, so it would be logical for him to take us to this meeting. We were asked to minister, it was a great privilege, and we basically gave our testimony, and sang. The Church was gigantic, with two towers that were the largest in Munich, from my memory. We climbed to the top of one of the towers, and I could see the snow covered Alps, were Hitler looked down on his twisted Kingdom, in the Wolves Lair Retreat. I remember vaguely the face and persona of the charismatic minister at the church, we were not in the main sanctuary, but met in a smaller side but spacious area of the church. The minister was kind, I almost remember Klaus being with us, people are so kind when you’re traveling and spreading the Good News, of Jesus Christ. We are treated with such respect basically everywhere we went, what an experience when you’re doing something right, something good. I was talking to a charismatic catholic priest at the meeting, and I gave him my card withy my address in San Anselmo. He was impressed with the name San Anselmo, which he said was a Saint Anselm, he gave me his card also, it was a touching moment of peace, warmth and joy. Page 51 Ken and I also went to the top of the tower at the Olympic Village, where there sat a restaurant. It was and still is a huge tower, overlooking the entire Olympic Village, plus the horizon with the Bavarian Alps. I remember seeing a man made mountain, from the tower at the village, made of the rubble from the allied bombings of Munich, it was landscaped. But the reality of what that mountain or hill was made of, and the size of it struck home and the reality of sin and its consequences and on top of the mountain stood a great white cross. The village had tent like structures of modern design, it had not yet opened for the Olympic Games, so it was all brand new and untouched. I believe it may have been Klaus that took us up there, to see the view. When then took a trip to the site of the Dacha concentration camp, which was a short light rail ride away from Munich, like taking a commuter train. Makes you wonder how nobody knew, when so close to Munich. When we arrived for the day trip, we came to a little tiny village train stop. We saw a group of young teenage looking Germans, sitting and waiting at the train stop, just hanging around. They were well dressed and clean, like everything in Germany was. So I asked Ken to play his guitar for them, minister to them in music. We have a photo which will be available on www.tvbn.org in the future, if not already now. Click around, or just type in my name Peter Romanowsky on any search engine with the name Munich attached. The young people listened politely to the words of Ken Hopkins in song, and then we moved on to the former concentration camp site. I vaguely remember the wrought iron sign over the entrance which stated something like “WORK AND LIVE”. It’s all a little blurry to my memory, other then the sign still stands. Most of the barracks that they kept the prisoners in are gone and destroyed, other the sites where the barracks stood. The was one that was either kept intact, or recreated exactly like the rest of them were. The was even a barrack where they kept just ministers and priests, long gone. As I walked into the barrack I read the signs, one of them especially caught my attention, explaining what went on in there. Page 52 For instance no matter how starved or beaten or hard the occupants had to do slave labor, they were expected to keep the barracks spotless. If even a piece of lint was on the floor when the guards came to inspect, someone was beaten. This was part of their torturer and hate, towards fellow human beings. It was a moving experience, the barrenness of the all wooden bunks. From there we went to the museum of torture and horror, pictures of human experiments on living souls, one man had the entire top of his head taken off at the skull, with his brain exposes, while still alive and conscious. I saw Hitler’s face scratched off of the only picture of him, with some ones fingernails. I saw the wooden rods that prisoners were beaten with; I saw the wall where they were shot. I saw the ovens where they were burned, sometimes while still alive. I saw flowers for the departed in the mouth of one of the ovens. I saw a field, or marsh where countless people’s ashes were thrown, with a huge Star of David planted in the marsh made of granite. I saw the Catholic Chapel dedicated to the Christians also that lost their lives in the Concentration Camp. I left with a feeling that if people go too far to the left or to the right, it all ends up in the same place, human imbalance and totalitarianism with inhuman consequences. “According to the sentence of the law which they shall tell thee, thou shalt do: thou shalt not decline from the sentence which they shall show thee, to the right hand, nor to the left.” (Deuteronomy 17:11) We left Germany after a week of success, thanks to meeting the German pilgrims to the Holy Land. We left at night so that we could sleep over and wake up in Switzerland, on our way to our next adventure and mission. The train to Switzerland is also the train that takes migrant workers back to Italy and beyond. The accommodations were sparse compared to all the other trains we had been on, wooden interiors with not much padding. I had the impression that these were the accommodations of people that did not make much money in this country, or were broke and going home in non luxury couches. I also had the impression that this midnight type express was really cheap, so people could leave the country to there homelands south and beyond, without being a burden to the German Government. Either way we were happy to be on our way, for we had our First Class Eurail Passes and we could lie down and sleep on the folding seats, not like the general couch seats, except sideways, if there was no one sitting next to you. Page 53 One of the roughest train rides we ever had, was when my mother and my pregnant wife were on a couch train from Gothenburg Sweden to the shore of the Baltic, sitting up all the way, it was much harder on Becky, we didn’t have a Eurail Pass at that time, and Becky was at least four months pregnant and couldn’t lay down the entire time, due to people sitting next to us. She was in terrible discomfort and burst out crying when we finally reached our destination in my mother’s family house in Finland, in hind sight she could have lost our baby Michael Elijah. Life is a lesson learned, or a lesson forced to be repeated over and over again. See the movie Ground Hog Day at your local video store, if so inclined to view secular movies. We fell asleep in the night as the train went clickety clank into the dark mysterious night of the Bavarian Alps, dreaming of our next destination, not knowing exactly what we are going to see or do when we get there except to Minister Jesus Christ. It was something a little like forties movie, clickity clank, into the mountains, in our sleep, fitful dreaming in a way, the darkness before the day. I remember not being very comfortable in my thoughts and mind, not easy to sleep, even in first class couch, on the road, not much of a first class, if I remember rightly in my mind. Or maybe it was the two months or more since I left my home in San Anselmo, and missing my wife and son. Nevertheless I felt like I was in some kind of mysterious movie, skirting danger, being on an important mission for God. Please excuse the prose, this manuscript I wrote by hand, is some twelve hundred pages long, this is only in the fifties. I tend to drift off, into poetry at times, long times, in the future of this manuscript. We woke up to a beautiful and mysterious scene the next morning, in the steep mountain Alps of Switzerland, clickity clanking through steep mountain ravines, over bridges and transverse mountain rivers and streams. After winding though the mountains without ever seeing the tops, we finally came to a place that I could only describe as a legendry Shangri La. A place of extreme beauty with snow capped mountains all around and spring flowers all around. We pulled into an Alpine town or village, built on a steep sloop overlooking one of the most beautiful sights I have ever seen. Page 53 I was viewing Lake Lucerne a huge lake with mountains all around and sailing ships, huge yachts, almost unbelievable unless one saw it for themselves. The lake and sky was so blue, high in the Alps, the clouds were so white, and the grass was so green, it was spring still here in the Alps. I was told many years later, that there is even a corner of the huge lake that has a micro tropical climate in a cove, on the far shoe of the lake, with palm trees. It truly is a Shangri La in the Alps, purposely put there by God and man, along the train route, a place to rest and view with awe. Certainly a safe feeling place, from the chaos in the world, especially in the Middle East. As I we got of the train, right in front of this mountain village, on the shore of the lake, with the train between us. I started walking up the steep sloped red bricked road and sidewalk; I was stunned by the beauty richness and potted flowers everywhere. It reminded me of Sausalito very much a city by the bay with richness, flowers, water clean air and tourists, but not as crowded and high in the Alps. I looked at the Swiss coins in my hands they were made of solid silver, I looked and the alpine buildings, the feeling and cleanness and old world rustic ness of the village. I said to myself this would be a sanctuary and escape for anyone looking for peace, or another place to start, or live. By the time I got to the Middle East I started to realize, that this is where a lot of people would like, or love to live, or to escape too. Such is the feeling of Switzerland in general, it’s good economy, it’s fresh air and high altitude, you feel like your somewhere in the heavens. Upon entering the train again after the brief stop in this enchanted place facing the Sun. We began to make to make our way towards our southerly destination Italy, in an apparently Westward slop fringing on or towards France. We make a connection a stop, or opportunity to board a train to France, since we were so close to France, after coming down the mountains of Switzerland anyway. Now we back in the flatlands, back in reality. There in the murky semi warm darkness of the setting Sun the choice was made to go to Paris, by me and my feeling of direction, hopefully from The Lord. We boarded a train with our first class passes, and decided to go to Paris in a fantastically modern streamline express like train if I recall, with hopes of ministry in France, by contracting Christian Brothers and Sisters there, for Christians are everywhere, especially when Page 55 traveling and ministering, they are so helpful and hospitable, even though I had no contacts whatsoever in France, especially Paris. It’s a given, once making contact with any missionary minded Christians or Churches, doors of ministry and opportunity will open, and they will help you by the Holy Spirit, to your next destination or ministry. But again, this was unplanned; it was the convenience of this super train headed towards Paris that was quite a draw. We hadn’t spent the money we made in Finland and were helped along with free room and board, plus sleeping on the trains to avoid expensive hotel bills and even though I don’t remember getting any sizeable donations along the way so far since Finland, we still felt like we had enough money to take the unplanned turn towards Paris. Now that I remember, I don’t believe we even had to pay to stay in the upscale Christian Hotel YMCA in Munich, from what I recall all these years later, we were treated like guests, ministers and missionaries, and left with a feeling of success, and mission accomplished. But now, near the border of Switzerland, France and Italy, in the Southern balmy wine growing region of the world, we were seduced in the dark. The trip started out fantastic, comfortable, mysterious, affordable, but the something happened, in my apprehension, memory and effectiveness. As we got closer to Paris and a train change onto a more conventional coach like train, we came to a place where drunken soldiers boarded, wearing funny hats and partying. Apparently we connected with a train coming more directly from Italy, and these soldiers were on break, and going home, drunk out of their minds. One even had a huge three foot long next bottle of Italian wine in his hand. This was the first time on our journey that we witnessed this much drunkenness at one time, and they were soldiers on top of that, which made it more scary, it felt like they had taken our the train. This was it; we got off the train at the next stop, and took a train in the middle of the night, going the opposite way to Italy. I thought to myself that if this was a sample or example of what we were going to meet in Paris, a city out of control with parting and drinking, then I wasn’t ready for it, and after checking my heart for God’s Will, it turned out that it seemed like we were over extending ourselves or just had lack of faith. I believe the former subject was more correct. Page 56 Again in the dark misty warm southern France country side, we rolled past Lyons and Avalon skirted the Spanish border somewhere near, but still far away and no more temptations to take in more countries then we could handle. I could just imagine us getting bogged down in France, or lost in Spain. When we finally awake again after a somewhat long and fitful night, we were in Italy, rolling along tracks next to apartments with laundry hanging every where from long strings of clothing lines in the morning sun. This was the first time I saw anything related to poverty, or low income, or standards of living in Europe. It reminded me of rolling along somewhere in New York, only because the apartments were congested along the railroad tracts. But it was all good and interesting and who am I to judge what is poor or not, from a distance, although obviously we have come to a country, where the standard of living was certainly different or poorer. Yet it all looked interesting and beautiful in the sunlight, buildings perched or stacked on the sides of cliffs or hills ramshackle and all, at least I was on the ground in Italy and headed for Rome, even though for a moment, it felt like I was on the Mexican border. The only other time I had been to Rome, was on returning from my first mission to Israel. I never got off the plane, we just stopped to pick up and drop off passengers. Next to me sat a Catholic Bishop from an area next to Rome. I was the leader of a movement called the Holiness Movement in the Church, and was on his way to New York to minister and promote his books on the subject. Before we left, he prayed and made the sign of the cross for a safe passage. When he shared with me who he was he showed me his Bishops ring, almost expecting me to kiss it, which is the tradition. He told me that there were over a hundred thousand people in his Bishopric District. Then he asked me what I did for a living or what I was doing? or came from on my journey. I shared with him my name Peter Romanowsky, told him I was a pastor in California and was on my way home after a missionary journey then eventually took me to Israel after a week in Greece. He told me that it sounded like I was an apostle, which is translated missionary in Latin. When we arrived in New York, a group of people were waiting for him and began kissing his ring and bowing to him. Page 57 When we arrived at the Rome train station it was very impressive sight, ancient old world mixed with the modern. If I recall I saw pieces of ancient Rome sticking out of the modern structure in places. But that is a common sight in Rome, modern buildings built around ancient ones, but not really modern in the Los Angeles sense of the word. It has been over twenty years since this event; some things are imprinted forever for some reason. Such as the young slim snappy and handsome Italian train station guard or attendant, who wore a dark police style hat and black uniform. I asked him where there was a monastery that he could recommend for us to stay. He said “you don’t want to stay in a monastery, that’s not where you really want to stay. There are plenty of good hotels to stay in, where there was plenty of excitement”, or something or other of that nature. Although he was pleasant enough, while he was talking with a cigarette in his mouth and trying to light it unsuccessfully, and as he was flicking his adjustable lighter all of a sudden, after saying these somewhat disparaging words about staying at a monastery, the lighter ignited harmlessly blasting the side of his cheek with a blow torch type effect. He apparently turned the gas all the way up. He looked quite startled and the lighter was a fancy type, with high adjustment. I said to Ken as we were leaving the station to find a place to stay, “see what happens when someone talks bad about the things of God”. Ken expressed that he didn’t think there was a connection between what he said, and the lighter incident. But I’ll never forget the look on the guard’s face, quite handsome as he was in his snappy black uniform. Since we couldn’t get any help looking for a monastery we checked into a pension, as hotels are apparently called in Italy. It was like any inexpensive clean hotel room, like you would see anywhere; in fact it felt like we were in New York City rather then in some exciting foreign religious capital. After one night there we immediately packed our bags and searched for a monastery to stay in. We were told by passerby's to go to the area of the Seven Fountains. We finally found a beautiful stone guest and pilgrim monastery run by an Order of the White Sisters, if I recall the name properly. The principle Nun at the reception desk was making that click, click, click sound while shaking her head. After I then began muttering complaints and irritations in general, over the long walk and warm weather. She obviously saw that we were stressed and checked us in Page 58 and were given a beautiful room, overlooking a stone court with two beds and a clean shower. We then began to soak in the mystery of this historic Capital of the Roman Empire. The comparison between the pension and this pilgrim’s guest house was like day and night and for the same price. This place was solid and cool with Nuns running the place, whereas the pension was somewhat exposed to the hot Sun and uninspiring and secular in general. We felt safe and secure to say the least and truly felt like we were in a real inner city monastery or sanctuary, and in a more advantages place to begin exploring Rome. As big as Rome is it was a miracle we settled in so quickly with our foremost goal of establishing ourselves there, and so near to where all that was happening in the center of Rome. We had access to everything, except the hardest part was finding a mom and pop grocery store and laundry mat to say the least. It seemed like places like these were hidden in buildings somewhere, you had to learn or know your way around. The simple act of finding a grocery store is one of the fundamental first things next to hotel room and place to wash laundry, when arriving in a new city. I often washed my shirt in hotel bedroom sinks; of course I bring wash and wear drip dry clothing anyway whenever I travel. We had never seem a super market since we left Los Angeles, some moderate size neighborhood stores “yes” somewhere, primarily in Northern Europe, but now we wouldn’t see anything like that again for the rest of our journey. The whole Mediterranean seemed to have only corner grocery stores, of which we couldn’t even find one conveniently in down town Rome. I know that I am repeating myself but all missionary journeys and pilgrimages start by settling in to a new city or country. It always seems to take a week, to see the sights get established and make contacts. Fast food forget it! This was in the early seventies; we only saw one McDonald’s the whole trip. By the time we got to Israel we finally again saw western fast food again in the form of Wimpy Burgers. We spent most of our time eating local forms of fast food from indoor or outdoor grills on sidewalks. Honestly what a culture shock even regular grocery stores, if you could find them, were small by American standards. I remember walking into a Safeway Market after returning home from my six month mission, what a feeling and then going to Jack In The Box or a Taco Bell afterwards, not to forget driving a car again. Page 59 Enough said on the subject for now, it was all exciting and new, it was the adventure of it all that kept us slim and active. The next day or so later, the head Nun or Sister was short circuiting about something at the desk, in general frustration about something. I had to chuckle and laugh inside a bit, because that’s what I was doing when I first got there. It was all in good nature, and reassuring that both Nuns and Ministers have their moments of imperfection. We struck out from the monastery and began looking at Rome, first again to the Seven Fountains, which I still don’t know the historical significance, but maybe was in a Hollywood movie. We then went to the ancient center of Rome “The Forum” which included the ancient coliseum. It was all so awesome, to see so much of the ancient city preserved in the heart of Rome. We walked around awestruck, impressed and in an historical hypnotic state. The coliseum was as large, impressive and imposing as ever seen in photos and movies. The ancient floor was gone and the rooms and passageways below were exposed. I still don’t know what happened to or, when part of the coliseum collapsed or was vandalized. Probably an ancient earthquake I suppose, otherwise it would be in perfect econometrical condition, except for the floor. Only one Christian was martyred in the collusive I was told. But many gladiators and prisoners were killed or executed there, with wild animals tearing people to pieces, that were kept under the floor chambers. Page 60 60 MISSING PAGES OF JOURNEY FROM ROME TO ATHENS WILL INCLUDE LATER AT A FUTURE DATe CHAPTER FOUR GIFT OF WISDOM ATHENS GREECE Being in this most famous city historically, was all in all am experience of biblical proportions. Truly God takes “…the foolish things of this world to confound the wise.” as taught by Paul in the New Testament. I remember so clearly when I received the gift of wisdom. A man named Armin wolf was leading a bible study in his aunt home, named Betty Bilibock mother of Heidi Hertler and mother-in-law of Paul Hertler. Armin was a scientific nuclear engineer who worked at an accelerator on the San Francisco peninsula. He used to always wear his radiation badge when he led the home Bible Study and prayer meeting. The meeting was in Woodacre California, approximate date 1970. I was in what was called the Hot Seat a chair where the Elders in the Bible Study, as well as anyone who felt by The Lord, would lay their hands upon the person requesting prayer, healing or prophecy. Armin began to prophecy as I was being prayed over and he spoke “Thus saith The Lord, ye shall be given the Gift of Wisdom”. As he said these words, the only ones that I remember, I felt an electricity go through his hands into my head. There were a number of other ministers and elders that came and fellowshipped, at this charismatic weekly meeting. That evening downstairs in the prayer room were Pastor Fred Small, of the Marin City Church of God in Marin County California and Pastor Jack Kulhmen of Harmony General Baptist Church in San Rafael. He since became pastor of his home church the General Baptist Church of Ceres, near Modesto Ca. Also their were if I recall properly a young German pastor and convelesent home owner from the German Assembly of God Church in San Francisco. Plus any number of other ministers and elders that came to the meetings from all different denominations, because of the great power glory and reputation of the Holy Spirits move in these meetings. When a house is on fire; to use a metaphore, a crowd always gathers and the Holy Spirits Fire was certainly there, and everywhere thier are two or more are gathered in Christ Jesus name. But this meeting was especially blessed because of the free flow of the Holy Spirits Gifts and love in general. Richard Borher who first trained me in open street evangelisem, one on one. I recall there being a house full of ministers and elders at the meeting that evening, maybe four or five, as well as the general gathering of people old and young. I came upstairs to the living room after receiving the gift by the laying on of the hands of the Elders and prophecy , as the New Testament so clearly teaches....9/9/06 Time 11:30