Do You Want To Hear A Story? Do You Want To Hear A Story?

Do you want to hear a story about how I got into a crazy situation? Good! It was one of those times when I knew I should’ve listened to that still small voice. Instead, I jumped in and assumed everything would work out just fine; but it didn’t. It was 1995, and I received an invitation to sing and teach at the Pentecostal World Fellowship Conference in Jerusalem, Israel. I was thrilled! I immediately began making plans to go. The reason for the invitation was that I had released a new album. of original music. The project sold well and many new opportunities opened up. However, none compared to the chance to sing in Jerusalem. To get the most from the trip, I booked a tour of northern Israel for the week before the convention.

The morning after we arrived, we boarded a bus and headed for Galilee. Over the next 5 days, we visited places I’d heard about all of my life. We took a boat ride on the Sea of Galilee and saw where Jesus was supposedly baptized. We visited all the sights, including Jericho where we rode (unfriendly) camels. When we neared the southern end of the Jordan River, I asked our tour guide about the baptism site. “The Bible says that after Jesus was baptized, he went immediately into the wilderness to be tempted. Did he really walk that far?” Our guide answered, “Well, the real baptism site of Jesus is down here, but we can’t take tourists there because it’s a militarized area. So, they moved it to the north end of the Jordan.” I just smiled at my friends who’d pestered me for not being “baptized where Jesus was.”

We stayed in Jerusalem for the 2nd leg of our trip. Even with services each evening and workshops during the day, I still found time to navigate the Old City’s sacred sites. On the final day, I wanted to visit the Mount of Olives, but my friends had already been. So I grabbed a bottle of water (it’s really hot in Israel in September) and left the Old City of Jerusalem on foot. Directions were clearly marked, so I turned off the main road and started up the mountain. I was glad I’d worn a short sleeve shirt. However, many of the holy sites require appropriate clothing, so that meant no shorts.

Suddenly, I heard a car approaching behind me.

I turned and saw it was a taxi. Jerusalem covers a lot of territory. The city is in 2 parts, the old and the new. Inside the old, there are 4 quarters: Armenian, Christian, Jewish, and Muslim. Each section has unique features but also similarities with the rest of the city. To get to the Old City from my hotel I could walk (hot, tired) or take a bus or cab. I used the city taxis often enough that I wasn’t alarmed to see one behind me. The driver rolled down his window and asked if I wanted a ride, and I declined. No one else was going up, so there was no competing traffic. In a few minutes, he came around again, and again I declined.

Two things bothered me.

The third time, the driver told me the churches, mosques, and attractions were closed from 12 – 3 p.m. It was 11:45 a.m. and I had no way to verify his information, so I agreed and hopped into the taxi. Two things bothered me from the start. 1st, I remembered our tour guide telling us not to take a taxi that was off the clock. This guy was off the clock, but he said he’d take me there for $5.00. Too good to be true, right? The 2nd thing, was he opened the front passenger door. I didn’t ever remember sitting in front unless there were too many for the backseat. As soon as I closed the door, he backed up and went the opposite way. I assumed he knew a shortcut.

I was beginning to relate to the guy in the Good Samaritan story.

After a minute, I noticed it wasn’t a shortcut because he was going away from the Mount of Olives. I asked him where he was headed and in a sly voice he replied, “Anywhere I want and I want all your money!” I was angry with myself, and I realize there was a good chance I’d end up in the next day’s headlines; READ ALL ABOUT IT! PREACHER BEATEN HALF TO DEATH NEAR MT. OF OLIVES! The Holy Spirit is our comforter, right? Still I reasoned, These things shouldn’t happen to preachers, or singers who just want to visit the Holy Land. I was beginning to relate to the guy in the Good Samaritan story. Then, all of a sudden, a thought came to me. Honestly, it’s the only thing I could come up with.

“You’re not getting all of this! there’s no way.”

I pulled out all of my money. His reaction was one of amazement. I don’t think it was because I had so much money, he just seemed shocked that I would show what I had. I shook the wad of bills at him and said, “You’re not getting all of this! there’s no way!” For just a few seconds, he took his foot off the accelerator. That’s when I knew I had a chance. I noticed a sharp left curve about 1/4 of a mile ahead. I imagined the worst, but as I silently prayed, the Holy Spirit brought me peace; even though I realized the seriousness of my situation. Ahead and to the right, there was a bridge with tourists looking at the Old City. I knew the taxi driver, this kidnapper, would have to slow down at the curve. So I kept looking back and forth from the driver to the road, blabbering in an attempt to distract him.

…maybe it’s because I hurled myself out of a moving car

It seemed like a long time, but in reality, it couldn’t have been more than a couple of minutes. As we approached the curve, I raised my voice and said, “You told me $5.00!” I had wadded up 5, 1 dollar bills in my other hand and kept it low. I waited for him to begin to slow down a bit to take the turn. When he did, I threw the wadded up $5.00 at his eyes. He was stunned, so I opened the door and jumped out of the moving car onto the road in the noontime traffic. The driver started to pull over, so I yelled to the tourists on the bridge as loudly as I could. They probably couldn’t understand my frantic screams. They just looked my way as he sped off.

“You did WHAT?”

The drivers that followed, graciously let me crawl across the road, where I sat under a Juniper tree and thanked God I wasn’t dead (no insult to Elijah). Crazy things must happen in Jerusalem all the time because nobody stopped to check on me. Here I was, a yelling tourist, flying through the air and landing amid traffic, then crawling across the road. I cried out to the people on the bridge, but they turned and walked away; business as usual, I guess. My adrenaline was sufficient enough that I was able to get up. I dusted myself off, and hobbled my way back to the Old City. On the way, I heard my mother’s voice saying, “Son, you take too many chances.” Then my wife’s voice, “You did WHAT!?” For just a minute I thought about not calling her, but I had to tell her about my cool get-away.

So what’s the takeaway?

Looking back, I can see my wrong assumptions. I gave no thought to going it alone. I didn’t stop to consider the probability of danger, or of the consequences of leaving my wife a widow and my grieving daughters without a father. It was foolish and I know the Lord saved my hide! To summarize, I’ve listed a few takeaways from that experience.