The Making of a Minister

by Robert D. Kalis
Pastor of Emmanuel Pentecostal Church
from 1975 - 1994

When anyone asked me, when I was just a little boy, what I wanted to be when I grew up, my instant response was, "A preacher." There were many reasons for this early choice. My dad was a preacher, and his noble and earnest manner glorified the ministry in my young eyes. I shared in the joy of fruit from my parents' ministry and saw wonderful answers to prayer again and again.

Then many of the greatest ministers and missionaries in the Pentecostal fellowship stayed with us in our home. Lillian Trasher of Egypt, Florence Steidel of the leper colony in Liberia, Kathryn Roth of Kenya, and the Gottfried Benders of Venezuela were some of the most interesting missionaries I got to know as a boy. Often, we took them to the boat as they sailed away to their "field". Elder Eugene Brooks and his wife Sarah seemed as holy and wonderful to me as Abraham and Sarah in the Bible. These great ministers took time to play with the little tow-headed preacher's son in Elizabeth, NJ. Both Hans Waldvogel and Joseph Wannenmacher were frequent guests of honor at our home and church. These were my "stars". With such an array of godly ministers, I could not help feeling that the ministry of the gospel, was the most noble calling in the world.

Our vacations were not pleasure jaunts, but visits to grandparents and always to visit the interesting servants of the Lord in places like Zion, Illinois. Often, we would stop along the way and visit some "saints" who had been miraculously healed. F. F. Bosworth had meetings in our church, and we often experienced the healing power of God in our home.

When I was eight years of age, I was stricken with appendicitis. The appendix burst. Blood poisoning and peritonitis set in. My parents prayed and called their praying friends for help in prayer. Miss Frieda Goetz, who had been a head nurse in a Brooklyn hospital, tended me in my home. She was a woman of faith. After two weeks of increasing danger, she told my parents that a crisis was imminent. Either a miracle must take place, or I could not live until the morning. They prayed earnestly, and that night near idnight, despite my delirium, I saw Jesus enter my room. He walked to my bed and laid His hand on my stomach. Instantly everything changed. I was perfectly well in the morning and had to be restrained by the good sense of my godly nurse, from devouring the food which for two weeks I could not eat. I sensed at that time that the call of God over my life was renewed, and I knew I owed my life to the Lord in a double way.

Our church sponsored tent meetings in our town several years later, and the Lord blessed us with several new families. A group of zealous young people kept every meeting alive. In one series of tent meetings, my dad advised me that, if I wanted to grow in the Lord, I should testify every chance I had in the coming services. For three weeks, every night, I obeyed his instructions, and one of those nights, as I was testifying, the anointing of the Holy Spirit came upon me. My voice changed, and an exhortation to holiness flowed from deep within. I had never experienced anything like that before. I knew that the Lord had met me that night.

In the hight school yearbook, I listed my ambition as "Minister of the Gospel," but, after graduation, I took employment in a corporation office. Several years of ups and downs followed. At that time, I was helped at Pilgrim Camp, and the Lord stirred my heart again toward the ministry. I spent several days with my dad in a spiritual retreat, and at that time the Lord made us to know that I should train for the ministry as soon as possible.

For the next three and one-half years, I trained in the Faith Home in Woodhaven, NY, under Pastor Hans Waldvogel. Twice he took me along to Europe on his evangelistic trips, especially to play my trumpet in the services. While there, attending wonderful Holy Ghost meetings, the Lord again renewed His call in my heart. Back in Brooklyn, during the third and fourth years of my training, we held many street-corner meetings. There, again as in the tent a few years before, the Spirit of the Lord came upon me while I testified. The words came like a rushing river from deep within.

About this time, a very important experience occurred. Rev. Joseph Wannenmacher came to Ridgewood. He spoke in three consecutive services. The first evening, he spoke on the necessity of real Christian love for one another. He seemed to speak right to me, although I was way up in the balcony with the choir. I had developed a strong dislike for two of the workers in the church. That sermon convicted me. I knew my attitude was wrong, and I determined to change my way. Then, the next night, Brother Wannenmacher spoke again on the same subject, even more strongly than the night before. For an hour and a half, he pounded away. It was as if someone had told him everything I had done. By the time he finished, I knew my repentance had not gone deep enough the night before, and so I really repented and called on the Lord for forgiveness.

Would you believe that the next night, once more, the sermon was on the same subject? The inspired word was so strong that I felt I was getting beaten up. By the time Brother Wannenmacher had finished, I almost felt there was no hope for me. I rushed to the altar and cried mightily to God for mercy. I purposed not to get up until I knew God had undertaken. He did. Those workers against whom I had developed those sinful attitudes became my friends, and I have had occasion to work with them since then in perfect harmony.

That victory went deeper than the immediate occasion. I found later that, when temptation came for feelings against anyone, the experience of that battle inspired me to keep my heart free from all bitterness and bad feelings. On several occasions, I felt I had to go and straighten things out because of misunderstandings. It was a little inconvenient at the time, but oh, what blessing to have nothing but love in the heart toward everyone.

Several years before this, Brother Wannenmacher had been used of the Lord to bring great blessing to the girl who was to be my wife. Ruth Bocker had been soundly converted as a result of an invitation to the Ridgewood Pentecostal Sunday School. Two years later, she received a beautiful baptism of the Holy Spirit, quiet and deep, right in her home. While in her mid teens Brother Wannenmacher came to Ridgewood and spoke especially to the young people. He gave a strong appeal for young people to consecrate themselves to do the will of God, whatever that might be. Ruth was one of the first to the altar that night. She consecrated herself unreservedly to the Lord. She had an idea she might become a missionary. From that night on, she made it a constant subject of prayer, that God's will might be done in her life. She went to Pilgrim Camp that year (1946) and enjoyed one week of vacation as a camper and then one week as a member of the staff. This time had a tremendous impact on her life. Pastor Hans Waldvogel came to the camp, and in the very first morning worship gave clear advice to those who desired to please Jesus. That talk changed the direction of Ruth's life again. The next two summers, she served on the staff at camp That was the beginning of her ministry.