|
Our
History
A Lifetime of Fruitful Service
I've Never Been
Sorry
I Will Build My Church
The Making of a Minister
The Blade, The Ear, The Full
Corn
"What Is Your Excuse For
Living?
|
|
"...a
shelter in the time of storm..." |
|
|
|
|
I've
Never Been Sorry
by Anna
Kalis
"Hertha,
we have the best Sunday school
teacher in the whole church!"
I remarked to my girl friend
one day. It was evident by her
reply that the feeling was mutual.
Who was
this "best Sunday school
teacher?" Hans R. Waldvogel,
the minister's son, who taught
a class of eight lively teen-age
girls in the German Baptist
Church of Kenosha, Wisconsin.
But why
did we feel then - and still
do, after more than fifty years
- that he was "the best
Sunday school teacher?"
First of all, his teaching poured
forth from the heart of one
who had the love of God in his
life and saw the value of each
one of our souls. He was interested
in each
individual and
treated us in special
ways! He literally gave himself
to us, and in so doing he gave
his time for us "kids."
Along with this, he had unique
surprises for us.
To this
day, I prize the Chinese tea
cup which he gave me one Christmas.
(Of course, each girl in the
class got a similar gifts.)
On another occasion each one
of us got a silver spoon. Pictures
were not as common and plentiful
then as they are today. So,
when he took our pictures, it
was quite an event. (One of
his special hobbies was photography
in which he became quite proficient.)
All in all, he became our hero.
But,
more than this, he was our example
of Jesus and what Jesus would
do in everyday circumstances.
We had heard and read I Timothy
4:12, "Be thou an example
of the believers, in word, in
conversation, in charity, in
spirit, in faith, in purity,"
but now we saw
this
verse lived out before our eyes.
"One example is worth a
dozen rules." He portrayed
this life to us so casually
in his everyday life! His example
was the greatest Godly influence
in my life.
In addition
to being our Sunday school teacher,
he was also the Sunday school
superintendent. Realizing the
importance of memory work, he
inspired all the Sunday school
to learn Bible verses which
he selected, but, as might be
expected in this, his own class
excelled. During the week, our
teacher worked in Chicago at
Bayardi Jewelers, one of the
finest jewelry firms in that
city. Our teacher had Hertha
write the Scripture passages
- we got a new one each week
- in her beautiful handwriting
on the back of a "Bayardi
Jewelers" calling card.
Althought they were in German,
Hertha and I could not be stumped
for memorizing them. In this
way, we learned such verses
as, "Trachtet
am ersten nach dem Reich Gottes
und nach seiner Gerechtigkeit,
so wird euch solches alles zufallen"
(Matthew 6:33). and "Also
hat Gott die Welt geliebt .
. ." (John
3:16), and whole chapters, such
as, Isaiah 53 and I Corinthians
13, together with all the books
of the Bible. All this in German!
Over fifty years have passed,
and I still can quote many of
these verses by memory even
though I have had very little
occasion to speak German for
many years.
In the
midst of these years came World
War I. How disappointed we were
when our dear teacher had to
enter the service of Uncle Sam
at Camp Grant, Illinois. But
he did not forget us! He wrote
me several ties, and on my birthday
sent me an elegant postcard
with a prayer. And then how
happy we were when he returned
to us!
All this
was too good to last, however!
One Sunday morning our teacher
was missing. He was gone!
The sad
story was circulated that our
beloved teacher and superintendent,
the son of our pastor, had been
bewitched - verhext
was the German word used, and
it sounded so w-e-i-r-d -- by
the "tongues people!"
We were requested to pray for
him that the Lord would enlighten
and deliver him. But my heart
could not accept that he had
been verhext.
I knew he had a single eye toward
Jesus, so I just said, "No
way - that's not it." Actually,
he had gone to live and work
with Mr. and Mrs. George W.
Finnern, pastors of the Peniel
Pentecostal Mission, located
only a few blocks away, but
the separation between us was
complete so that we saw little
or nothing of him at this time.
Not long
after this, while in the ninth
grade in junior high school,
the Spirit of the Lord dealt
with me forcefully. One early
Monday morning, I felt so guilty
and needy I wept bitterly. My
mother did her best to console
and convince me that I wasn't
that big a sinner, but I went
to school very conscious of
my need of being "washed
in the blood>" I seemed
to walk softly before the Lord
for some time, and then, in
revival services which were
held at the Baptist Church at
that time, conducted by the
father-in-law of our pastors'
other son, Gottfried Waldvogel,
I surrendered my life to God!
All the teaching I had received
in Sunday school was working,
and I found God's peace and
joy as I bowed before the cross.
(Here I should add that in the
end all eight girls in our Sunday
school class were converted
- the result of our teacher's
prayers.)
Hans
Waldvogel's mother told him
of my salvation. He was happy
about it and sent me a nice
word of encouragement to keep
following Jesus in the way of
life. My conversion opened up
a new door, and as the hart
panteth after the water brooks,
so my soul began to pant after
God, and soon "He brought
me into His banqueting house."
I knew
where my former Sunday school
teacher was ministering, and
so, one day after I was saved,
I ventured to sneak into the
Peniel Pentecostal Mission and
see for myself what Pentecost
was like! I was deeply impressed
with the joy of the Lord manifested
in the free spirit of worship
and the warm outgoing hearts
of the people there, while our
church was so formal. Once I
had tasted of the blessing of
God in that place, my soul hungered
for more. By hook or crook,
I was determined to get into
those Pentecostal meeting. I
would go, as usual, to the Baptist
Church, stay through the song
service, then leave and literally
run from my church to the mission,
ten or twelve blocks away! How
my heart thrilled in anticipation!
I came in late to the mission
services, but my heart
was hungry, and I was always
helped and encouraged.
When
my parents found out what I
was doing, they were greatly
alarmed over my "going
overboard." My father,
who was still not saved, was
not too pleased even about my
going to the Baptist Church,
and the Mission was certainly
w-a-y out! Both of my parents
became very hostile and tried
every conceivable thing to get
me to stop going. It resulted
in the only strapping I ever
got from my dad. Mother decided
to take my lovely wrist watch
from me until I would quit my
foolishness. (In those days,
very few girls my age possessed
a watch.) In my heart, I said,
"Goodbye, watch."
God had worked in my heart,
and I was determined to be true
to Him.
One Sunday
afternoon, while home alone,
I went into my bedroom and,
weeping, poured out my soul
in prayer. It was a heartbroken
cry that the Lord would help
me and help my parents to understand.
I did not realize the window
was partially open and that
the neighbor lady heard my prayer.
But she did and told my mother
about it. This moved my mother
and helped to change her attitude.
|
|
|
I've
Never Been Sorry
Anna
Kalis
October 23, 1905
July 21, 1992
|
There
were others, besides my parents,
who persecuted me. In those
days, Pentecost was really despised.
Those who attended their meetings
were called "Holy Rollers."
When I went to the mission,
I had to pass a lot where a
number of neighbor boys regularly
played. When they saw me coming
and knew where I was going,
they would invariably call out,
"Here she comes!"
Then they would stop their playing,
go into a huddle, and sing a
well-known "holy-roller"
song, "Oh, There's Honey
in the Rock."
One day,
as I was walking along the railroad
track, praying, the Lord gave
me the wonderful verse, "Yea,
and all that will live godly
in Christ Jesus shall suffer
persecution!" This was
a real blessing and encouragement
to my heart.
In the
meantime, I had been introduced
to some fine ministers, such
as, Elder and Mrs. Brooks, Mrs.
Martha Robinson, and Mrs. Judd,
all of the Faith Homes in Zion,
Illinois, ten miles to the south
of Kenosha, who often came up
to minister in the Peniel Mission.
Often, I felt that the wonderful
victories given me were due
to this brand "battery
of God's elite servants"
who prayed so much for me and
taught me the way more perfectly.
I am indebted to Mrs. Judd,
especially, who taught me so
untiringly. At one time in particular,
the Lord used her to teach me
to be very kind and submissive
to my parents ("You do
not know it all!"), to
take time out with them, and
to discuss the things which
interested them,
etc.
This was a great victory, for
I do believe my foolish heart
often made me to act as if I
knew all the answers. I endeavored
to obey this word of wisdom,
and, undoubtedly, this led them
to be more tolerant with me
about the Mission. As I became
meek and walked humbly before
Him and them, He worked for
me.
Now came
a big surprise: One day, Mother
told me that I might just as
well take my brother Frank to
Sunday school. I could not believe
my ears. "Where? What do
you mean?" I stuttered.
"Well,
he might just as well go where
you go!"
she replied.
After
all, Frank was familiar only
with the lovely Baptist Church,
its nice choir loft and the
big clock that ticked away.
(Often, when all was so silent,
he would count the clock ticks
and look for the "Amen.")
The Mission was so different
- a little storefront, certainly
a very neat and well-kept place
in very good taste, but the
praises of the Lord were loud,
and many
outsiders, especially young
fellows, would gather in the
doorway and make fun of us and
play pranks! (How well I remember
a Sunday afternoon meeting when
they opened the door and let
a cat in! She finally came all
the way to the front bench and
perched on its back. A few minutes
later, they pushed in a dog,
but fortunately someone knew
how to handle the situation!)
Now, I was bringing my brother,
and I wanted him to like it,
so I prayed that all would be
done "decently and in order."
When
we came, the entire Sunday school
was already praising the Lord
with their whole heart! The
Lord overruled all my foolish
ideas, however, and, not long
after, my brother was gloriously
saved! Another great miracle
took place at that time - five
of the Sunday school boys of
about the same age as Frank
followed the Lord. So Frank
had real fellowship. (With the
intercession of the prayer meeting,
each one of these boys eventually
became missionaries or ministers
of the gospel.)
When
I was sixteen years old, I spent
a few days with my girl friend,
Betty, in Chicago. Hans Waldvogel
was holding evangelistic services
at Bethel Temple in that city
at that time, and the young
people all were blessed by his
ministry. I seized the opportunity
to go to theses meetings. With
real expectancy, I went to church.
When the altar call was given,
I went forward. Hardly did I
reach the altar when the fire
of God fell on me, and I was
baptized with the Holy Spirit.
I was never the same after that!
I go a new hunger for Jesus!
That
was fifty-three years ago, and
today, I am most grateful to
have experienced that it is
the Spirit that quickens and
makes alive!
Soon I heard His voice calling
me to serve Him and could not
settle for anything else. To
prepare for this, the Lord led
me in 1926 to go to live with
the Finnerns who had been my
ministers in Kenosha but had
moved to Chicago the previous
year. From them, I received
real help and training for three
years. There, we had dynamic
street meetings and a very fine
Sunday school. This did much
to prepare me for my future
work.
On September
14, 1929, I was married to Rudolph
Kalis by the one who had been
the great influence on both
of our lives - Hans Waldvogel.
Our one great desire for the
wedding was to have Jesus manifest
Himself to us all and to all
the guests. To that end, we
invited about twenty ministers,
several of whom were used of
God in the meeting which followed
the ceremony! These ministers
greatly influenced my father
who was still unsaved but for
whom we had been earnestly praying.
Up to that time, he had thought
Pentecostal ministers were a
simple, inferior class of people,
but the array of fine, intelligent
ministers at our wedding impressed
him. It was not long after this
that while at work he had a
vision of Jesus on the cross
and was gloriously converted.
Now all of our family were saved.
After
our marriage, we went to New
York intending to work with
Brother Hans Waldvogel. (My
husband had been his assistant
for almost two years prior to
that.) We were just getting
settled in the new Faith Home
in Woodhaven when Brother Waldvogel
got a request to send a couple
to help out for a few weeks
in Elizabeth, New Jersey. I
was truly disappointed, but,
not for long, for we saw it
was God's call to us. Those
few weeks became forty-six years!
It is
thrilling to know that Jesus
calls us! How wonderful that
He enabled me to hear His voice,
"so charming and so wondrous!"
May He enable all of us to hear
Him and by Him be made whole!
The miracles, the healings,
the conversions,the tent meetings,
the park meetings, the weeks-of-prayer
meetings, the transformed lives,
and what He did in our united
lives during the past forty-six
years make me say with all my
heart.
I've
never been sorry I heeded God's
call;
I've never been sorry
I yielded my all.
My walk
with the Master grows sweeter
each day;
I've never been
sorry one step of the way!
...more |
|
|
