It's not often someone crosses your path and changes your life forever. It's even rarer for that person to introduce the One who enables you to spend eternity together. Such was the man I met as a child, and, as I grew to know him, saw what it meant to be a true man of God. It was then that I also realized my only real testimony was the life of another, Paul L. Virkler.
With a birthday the day before mine, March 14th, Paul became pastor of his first church, in Wharton, N.J., the year I was born, 1951, and thereby earned the name he is so affectionately known as: "Pastor Virkler". He used to love to tell the story of how my family and I started coming, eight years later, to a church he built himself in Roxbury Township, N.J.. "Remember Jack," he would say, "when the young Smith boy invited you to our church? That was something! And soon your whole family was coming, and later your aunts and uncles, and then even your grandmother! I'll never forget that!".
He never did forget, and I never got tired of hearing it, or seeing the big smile on his face and the twinkle in his eye, as he related it again. But, it wasn't simply the fact that my next-door neighbor invited me to his church, right after we had moved into our new home, that struck me. The real fact was Paul had been sending a bus to Wharton to pick up kids from his old church, and anyone else who desired, in order to attend Sunday school at his new church. I had never heard of anyone doing that then, and, to this day have never heard of anyone ever doing such a thing. But that was Paul, he provided the means and the Lord would provide the way. And his church grew.
Then I met his son, Jim. He was to become our big brother, mentor, Sunday school teacher, youth director, and anything else we needed. He would take us to ballgames, museums, picnics, pick us up for youth group, and then drop us off after evening church. And I learned more of the father through the son. Just like Paul, I had never, and still have never, seen anyone do anything like that.
I also heard of his older son, David, who became an evangelist and started his own ministry. Sound familiar? However, I would not meet him until much later in life, yet, when I did, it was like I knew him all along. That family, and that man, had become such visible models of Christians to me, that my soul began to long for what they had. Nowhere had I seen people living their faith and still being as down-to-earth as they were.
Behind every good man there is a wonderful woman, and behind every Christian family is the mother, who holds it all together. Fulfilling that key role was Paul's "Honey", Rachel. Although I did not know her as well as the others, I only needed to see her fruit to recognize the person. And Paul held her high on a pedestal, second only to the God he served.
Paul also made his living growing sweet corn, but right in the heart of his cornfield was a field of dreams, a softball field. On that field I was to have so many wonderful memories. For it was there, as a teenager, that I got to play ball with the men. To play side-by-side with my dad, three uncles, Paul, Jim, some high-school friends, and other men in the church was something beyond description, and still fills my heart to this day.
Down below the fields were a fresh water spring, a few irrigation ponds (later stocked with bass and trout), and a picnic grove, complete with hand-hewn tables and an elaborate brick barbecue pit. That picnic area was the home of the annual "Corn Roast", where Paul and the church would provide all the corn and fixins for the entire congregation and guests. What a day of food, games, singing and fellowship! The signature of a loving father, farmer and friend.
Later, I accepted Christ at one of Paul's tent crusades, and was then baptized. Soon after that, Paul retired, I went to college, and in a few years found myself in the Army. Paul was to disappear from my life for awhile, but I had had a taste of the Lord, and that - I would never forget!
Paul would later come out of retirement to marry my wife and I in a simple ceremony at my parents' home. Twenty-five years later, he was still saying, "I married a few folks whose marriages just didn't work out, but I'll say one thing for you kids, and that is: it stuck! God bless you both!". And with that, he would give us a big hug and send us on our way.
It was amazing to watch him continue to teach, at our newfound church in Succasunna, N.J., and minister to others as he grew older, passing milestones such as: His 50th wedding anniversary and 80th birthday. However, it wasn't until the death of my only son, just one week following the death of Paul's own dear wife, that I really learned of his family's love. They and the people from our church went out of their way to help us get through the most difficult time of our lives. You expect your family to be there when you need them, but when the family of God is there too, it has a way of turning even a tragic moment into one of beauty. I have never felt so much grief and so much love at the same time. It truly gave me a deeper meaning of Christ, and made one of my favorite Bible verses come alive, Philippians 3:10: "That I may know Him, and the power of His resurrection, and the fellowship of His sufferings, being conformed to His death.".
Two years later, we experienced the most joyful event of our lives, the marriage of our daughter, and Paul, always the trooper, was ready to help when another pastor was unable to bless the wedding meal, moments before it was to be served. My daughter had wanted Paul to do the honors originally, but we advised against it, due to his failing health. When I was informed of the matter, I talked to Jim, and he assured me he would take care of it. As the guests were being seated, Jim came over to our table and, much to my surprise, told me Paul would be honored to give his blessing. After being helped to the microphone, by the grace of God, he was able to stand on feeble knees and address the crowd, and our Lord, as only he could. All in attendance were truly blessed, and it was we who were honored. Afterwards, he told me he had a dream the night before, where he was standing and speaking at my daughter's wedding. That entire day was like a dream come true, and we all could see we were not alone. Even the wedding theme, "That They May Know You", taken from John 17:3, would later prove to have a fitting prophetic ring to it.
The following year, at his 90th birthday celebration, we all got a chance to finally thank Paul for being such an inspiration to those around him. It was a unique opportunity for us to give back some of the love he had so humbly and lavishly bestowed upon everyone. We had grown accustomed to him always being there, and no one could have imagined that within five short months he would be gone to be with our Lord.
Every story has to come to an end, but not so with a testimony. It lives on in the hearts of those who knew him, and is retold with every life they in turn touch. At Paul's final viewing, there was a Bible in his casket, opened to John 17:3: "Now this is eternal life: that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, whom You have sent.".
Such was the man, Paul L. Virkler, and to know him was to know Christ. I only pray, when it comes my turn to be promoted to glory, that my life will have impacted someone else's in the same way his has impacted mine.