CONNY AND [I stood in line, along with other people, outside Checkpoint
For the Son of man is come to seek and to save that which was lost.
Luke 19:10
16. Checkpoint Charlie
CONNY AND [I stood in line, along with other people, outside Checkpoint Charlie, the gate for foreigners into East Berlin. Many of those in line were Dutch and I saw they were being passed without difficulty. Everything seemed routine: Hand your passport to a guard, walk down the line, and receive your passport back with a stamp that allowed you to spend the one day in East Berlin. I hoped it would be as easy for us when it was our turn to be checked.
Finally we were in front of the window. The guard looked at our passports, looked in a book, and then turned and said something to another man behind him.
"Ts there a problem?" I asked the man. He turned and gave me a stern look. "Come with me," he said, inotioning for Conny and me to follow him into a small room to one side. We were questioned and then they opened my handbag. There they found two books. One of them was one of my books which had been published in East Germany. The other was a copy of Billy Graham's Peace With God which had also been translated into German.
The officer picked up Billy Graham's book and shouted, "What? A book by that machine gun of God!"
I laughed. "I like the name you give to Billy Graham. I will tell him what you called him the next time I see him—God's Machine Gun. However, if I am not allowed to take the books with me into East Berlin, I will just give them to you and you can let us go on." :
TRAMP FOR THE LORD
"Oh, no," he said sternly, "it is not that easy. First we have to write up your deposition."
He searched me to see if I had hidden more books before he began his inquisition. I did not like his rough, crude manner and told him so.
"T really feel as if Iam in the hands of the Gestapo again," I said. "No," he said, abashed, "I am no Gestapo." "You surely have the same manners," I said bluntly. He softened his approach but still kept us in the inquisition room for more than three hours. A woman typist copied everything I said and wrote it into a "protocol." I learned that my name was on the blacklist for East Germany, which was the reason I was being so thoroughly questioned. However, I was primarily upset because we had only a few hours to visit the Christians in East Berlin and our time was being wasted here in the guard station.
"Lord," I complained silently, "why are You keeping us here when we need to be about Your business in East Berlin?"
Then slowly it came through my stubborn Dutch mind that God had us in the guard office for a purpose. He not only loved the Christians in East Berlin but He loved these Communist guards also—the officer and the uniformed typist. What a sad mistake we sometimes make when we think that God only cares about Christians. Although God desires that all people become Christians, He does not love one group more than another. In fact, it was for the world that God gave His only begotten Son, and Jesus Himself said He had not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentence (see Matthew 9:13). I remembered the words of Jesus when He said, "You will be led before kings and governors for My name's sake. This will be a time, an opportunity, for you to bear testimony. Resolve and settle it in your minds, not to meditate and prepare beforehand how you are to answer." (See Matthew 10:18, 19.)
Suddenly my attitude toward the officer changed. Instead of an enemy, I saw him as one of those for whom Christ died. Now I answered every question testifying of my faith in Jesus. It became almost a kind of game.
I asked the officer, "Do you ever read the Bible?"
"No, Iam a Marxist," he said stubbornly. "The Bible was written especially for Marxists," I said. "It says that God so greatly loved the Marxists that He gave His only begotten Son so that any Marxist who believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life."
Both the officer and the woman typist were listening with serious faces. I went ahead to talk about the two problems of the human race—sin and death—and stated that the Bible gives us the answer to these problems by telling us about Jesus.
"Why don't you keep my books and read them?" I said. "I will be glad to autograph my book for you and the book by Billy Graham will answer many of your questions."
"Must I read it?" the officer said.
"Tt will not do you any harm," I laughed. The officer laughed too, but then, catching himself, became very serious and businesslike again.
"T see, Fraulein, that you are carrying chocolate with you? What is your reason?"
"T am taking it for the minister's children in East Berlin. Don't you bring chocolate with you when you visit a family with children?"
"No, I take flowers with me," he said seriously. "Flowers are nice for parents, but children prefer chocolate. Besides, I often preach about chocolate."
"What crazy people we have here today," the officer said. "You carry books by a man who talks like a machine gun and then tell me you preach about chocolate.
Tell me, what kind of sermon do you get from a chocolate bar, old woman?"
"Several years ago," I answered, "I spoke to a group of Germans who prided themselves as intellectuals. They would not receive me because they felt that they were more profound in their theology than I. So, my last time with them I brought them all some Dutch chocolate. Since chocolate was very rare after the war, they eagerly accepted my gift. Later, when I stood to speak to them, I told them, 'No one has said anything to me about the chocolate.'
"They disagreed, saying that they had all thanked me for it.
did not mean that,' I said. 'I mean no one questioned me about it. No one asked whether it had been manufactured in Holland or Germany, what quantities it contained of cocoa, sugar, milk, or vitamins. Instead of analyzing it, you just ate it.'
"Then I picked up my Bible and said, 'It is the same with this Book. If you try to analyze it as a book of science or even a book of theology, you cannot be nourished by it. Like chocolate, it is to be eaten and enjoyed, not picked apart bit by bit.'"
I stopped talking and noticed, once again, that the officer and the typist were deeply interested in what I was saying. Then the officer straightened up, cleared his throat, and said to the typist, "Please type Fraulein ten Boom's protocol and we will let her pass." With that he stood and left the room, never looking back.
I sat quietly while the typist finished typing her report. Moments later the officer was back. He pulled the paper from the typewriter and read aloud. "When in prison Corrie ten Boom received from God the commission to bring the Gospel of Jesus Christ over the whole world. Her church has taught her to bring chocolate when she visits families with children."
The officer nodded and excused himself, saying he had to read it to his superior officer before I could be approved for entrance into East Berlin. While he was gone I talked with the typist, urging her to accept Jesus as her Lord. She listened intently, reading through some of the pages in my book. However, when the officer returned she straightened up and returned to her typewriter.
I handed Billy Graham's book to the officer. "Sir, be sure and take this book by God's Machine Gun home with you. It will change your life."
He tried to look severe, but behind his eyes I could sense both hunger and thirst. Without saying a word he took the book and slipped it into his briefcase. He handed my book to the typist and motioned her to put it in her purse. Then he opened the door and pointed in the direction of East Berlin. "I am sorry to have detained you so long, Fraulein," he said. "But what we have been doing here is even more important than your visit to your friends."
I shook his hand and Conny and I entered the Communist city, wondering if the officer actually realized the truth of his last statement. What we had to do in East Berlin was important, but even more important was bringing the Good News of Jesus to those who walk in darkness.