THE POWER OF HALLELUJAH!
Some years ago when I was serving as the field representative for the East European Iron Curtain countries out of my denomination’s European Office in Switzerland, I planned my first visit to communist Hungary to meet with the national overseer there. My supervisor told me to be very careful about how I approached his house, since drawing attention to a local resident receiving a visit from an American could cause our pastor difficulties.
With great intensity, I studied the country map as well as the city map where he lived. I also received advice to park several blocks away and walk back to the house as though I wasn’t sure I knew who I was looking for. After arriving at the border crossing and having my papers examined I tried to act like an ordinary tourist. But one border guard didn’t seem convinced. He asked me to open my trunk. When I did he saw my briefcase and jokingly asked if I had any gold inside. I surprised him when I said to him, “Yes I do!” When I opened the briefcase, my Bible was laying on top. He looked at it, turned to me and smiled and said, “Yes you do!” then waved me on my way.
I drove to an area on the outskirts of Budapest. Reading street signs in Hungarian was not my forte. But, I finally found the street where the pastor lived. I noticed that all the houses were behind high fences and iron gates. I spotted the number I was looking for, drove on by for a few blocks and parked. I walked back nonchalantly to the big black iron gate and pushed the doorbell, trying to look as if I wasn’t sure if it was the right one. I heard a woman’s voice from inside the compound yell something in Hungarian, and I answered in English by giving my name. I waited for about a minute, but nothing happened. So I pushed the doorbell again. Once more, the woman answered and I gave my name and the name of the person I wanted to visit, still no one came.
Finally, I pushed the button once more, and when the woman answered, this time, I shouted, “Hallelujah!” All of a sudden I heard things being moved around and within seconds, she was at the gate, smiling and greeting me with great joy. I entered the house and hugged my brother in the Lord and we had a wonderful visit. Thank the Lord he spoke English. As I left that day to go back to the hotel, I praised my God for the heavenly language we can all use to identify each other around the world. As far as I know, it works in any language. So I say again, Hallelujah!