The blessing that was given after all
A personal experience
Right Through the Silence
In 1975, we moved to our new hometown and joined the local Full Gospel Church. Our journey of faith had begun at that time in a Pentecostal church in Rotterdam-Zuid, where we were also baptized by immersion. After serving there for a few years, I was offered a job as a social worker in my new hometown, which was the reason for our move. We wanted to get involved with a church again as soon as possible. So we joined this congregation, which at that time was still just a small group of people.
The affable pastor could preach beautifully and vividly. He really captured my imagination, and his words always touched me; he was a gentle, kind shepherd to the congregation. Over time, however, things began to change in the congregation. New leaders came in, the founder of the congregation had to step aside, and he left for elsewhere. The atmosphere changed, and the message became different as well. The preaching increasingly aligned with a specific Pentecostal movement that was dominant in the Netherlands at that time.
Isolated
The new pastor felt called to this task. He was a devoted follower of a well-known Dutch Bible teacher, whose ideas he not only adopted but also further developed within the local church. This led to the church becoming isolated within the evangelical and Pentecostal communities in the Netherlands. Whenever we wanted to organize an activity—for example, when we wanted to take the youth to Opwekking—it always met with resistance, because we supposedly already had everything we needed in our church. This weighed heavily on me and did not make me happy. We often decided to go our own way anyway. We had a wonderful youth group and undertook all kinds of activities, such as two trips to southern Italy to evangelize there and help at a shelter. Within this church, we as a youth group almost formed our own congregation with its own atmosphere, which did differ from the general direction of the church.
Because we were fully committed and had formed deep bonds with the people, we built a large circle of friends. These deep-rooted relationships brought us much joy and fulfillment. After serving as a youth leader for about ten years, the call to the eldership followed. This stemmed from our relationship with the people, my love for the Word, but above all, the calling that God had placed on our lives.
The church’s direction
During our time in Rotterdam, the church where we were baptized, a prophecy about my life had already been spoken at the time of my baptism. God would use me in His Kingdom and, among other things, have me preach the Word—something that had already begun at the time of my conversion. Ultimately, we served this church for a total of 25 years through thick and thin, with difficult moments, but above all with many beautiful ones. However, the church’s direction became increasingly pronounced, with positions that clashed with mainstream Pentecostal teaching.
These involved topics such as original sin, Israel, and the battle in the heavenly realms. Especially in recent years, the pastor developed exclusive views regarding Belial and the Queen of Heaven. I felt absolutely no connection to those ideas. My loyalty to the church, however, remained strong, so I continued to focus on my calling—together with my wife—to pastoral ministry and youth work. It was pure love for the church and care for the people, even though I no longer endorsed the teachings being preached.
A vision
We continued on our own path. In addition to our activities in the church, we regularly visited other places. We attended conferences organized by other groups and participated in leadership meetings in the region and at the national level. During one such gathering, a well-known Dutch prophet unexpectedly asked if he could pray for us. He didn’t know us, knew nothing about our lives, and was unaware of our role in the church. He prophesied that God had a new path for us. In a vision, he saw a train station where a train was pulling in. We got off and then boarded a new train. The message was clear: change was coming. This went completely against our own thoughts, because we were deeply connected to the church, our friends, and our responsibilities.
A month or two later, we attended another gathering organized by the leader of a neighboring church. This time, preachers from America were speaking. For the second time, I was singled out and brought to the front. The preacher wanted to pronounce a prophecy over me. My wife, who prefers to stay in the background, was also called up. As she stood beside me, we heard the prophecy that the Lord would give us a new calling and a new place, exactly in line with the earlier message. After 25 years in our church, we finally made the decision. We knew which path God was leading us on and that we would go serve in another church. We were able to continue the roles we had always held there, especially in pastoral care.
Other places
The final service in our old church was approaching. I had shared the decision with the elders’ council and stepped down from my duties at the time, because I knew God was calling us to something new. The other elders, however, did not accept this; they did not believe this step was from God. They saw our own church as the only place where God bestowed His blessing. In their eyes, the message preached there was the message of the Kingdom of God, to which everything else had to yield. When I look back on this, I still find it a prideful thought. For I have seen in many other places that the glory of God was more powerfully present than in our own church.
I do not believe that God limits Himself to one specific place simply because people there think they are proclaiming the correct doctrine. The elders refused to accept our decision, so no announcement was made to the congregation. Someone who had served for 25 years was not given a chance to say goodbye. I even suggested to the pastor that he briefly share how God had led us, but that was not allowed. He even refused to let me write down my words in advance, which he would have been able to review.
So there we sat that Sunday morning in the sanctuary for the last time, without anyone in our beloved congregation knowing about our decision. I hoped until the very last moment that something would be said about our departure during the announcements, but there was only silence until the end of the service. No blessing was pronounced over us, which hurt us deeply after all those years of service.
The blessing
At the end of the service, when the congregation had received the blessing and everyone was already reaching for their coats, a brother stood up. This man knew nothing about it. He had only been attending the church for a short time and was unfamiliar with the strict rules. The liturgy was always set in stone, and spontaneous actions were unusual; everything had to be discussed in advance. Going completely against all the rules, this brother asked if we could sing a new, unfamiliar song. This surprised everyone; no one was used to this, including us. He suggested a song, and the lyrics touched us deeply:
I give you abundantly; just as the Father sent Me, so I send you.
Go and share My love; peace be with you. (Opwekking 503)
We had never heard this song before, and I couldn’t recall us ever singing it in church either. What a comfort this brought. My wife and I were overjoyed that the Holy Spirit knew exactly what was in our hearts. The Lord showed that He was in control of our decision and, through this brother, simply bestowed a blessing upon us. This demonstrates that when people oppose you and disagree with your choice, yet you experience God’s guidance, you can trust in His blessing. He sometimes uses unusual “channels” for this, going completely against all human and religious rules.
@wimvanputten