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One does not become a Pastor of a Christian Church, even a new one, overnight.  Rather most such promotions take years and in many cases are unexpected.   Such is the history of Burt Wilkins within the Church.   He did not expect to become an Elder, let alone Pastor.   The length of his lifetime precludes a presentation of his entire background.  So the focus of this page is to offer you a slice of our Pastor's history:

Pastor Burt  Pastor Burt has been active in the Christian Church since his late teens.   While a college student, he served Bishop Swift in the Episcopal Church in Boca Raton, Florida as an alter boy.   Then in his early twenties, Bishop Swift would often question and challenge him, "Why aren't you in seminary?"    Although Burt loved the Lord, he found traditional Christian churches lacking.  Burt, at that time, could not imagine dedicating his life to the Church.   It was not till in his mid thirties, where he experienced modern Christianity today, the Spirit filled life, and the new birth.

Everyone's calling is unique, and so it with Burt.   His was not a Church conversion, but one that began in anger, Friday, March 25th, 1983, at 10:30 AM Eastern time, at 30,000 feet over the Atlantic, aboard Soviet aircraft, a half hour from landing in Havana, Cuba on a journey from Toronto, Canada.   His determination to server the Lord began when he was saved.  This is the true story of Pastor Burt's conversion.  

On that Friday in 1983, Burt was engaged in the act of smuggling Bibles into Cuba.  His acceptance of the Lord actually took place in an airline lavatory.  In accepting Jesus Christ as his personal savior, he made a bargain with God that if He would get him through this alive, Burt would serve the Lord the remaining days of his day.   All that Burt has ever done since then within the Church has been to try and to keep his word to God our Father.

At the time Burt had been living in Ottawa, Canada.  Burt had a computer business of his own.   He held both Canadian and United States citizenship.   Canadian winters are very cold.  Canadians often joke that the country has only two seasons; winter and July and July was all too short.   Temperatures can fall to minus 40 degrees and stay there for months.  Much of the population flees Canada for southern vacations in either December or March.  Canadians commonly flee to Miami, Mexico, or the Caribbean, anywhere to warm their bones.   Compared to Jamaica, or any of the other islands, Cuba is a cheap vacation at half the price.  At that time, two weeks in Cuba, with airfare, hotel at a quality beach resort, with two meals a day, buffet style, all you can eat was about $680 US currency per person.

Canada, unlike the United States, never severed diplomatic relations with Cuba when Fidel Castro came to power.  Thus, Canadians had every right to go to Cuba for vacation.  Suffering through the Canadian winter in December 1981 and again in December 1982, Burt went to sunny Varadaro, Cuba for the two weeks Christmas – New Years vacation at the beach.  

The hotel (which had been a large Holiday Inn before the revolution) offered that Christmas eve an excursion to its guests to attend midnight mass at Varadaro’s only church.   Although Burt had not been a Catholic, he decide that for Christmas he could certainly attend this celebration of our Lord’s birth.   About a bus load of tourist that night were taken including Burt to a small Catholic Church.  This stone church, probably hundreds of years old, was no larger than 40 feet square.   The stone church had a dirt floor, and there were a number of holes in the roof.   The windows had no glass, only bars, and there were only weather beaten wooden benches to sit on.   There was no organ.  A Cuban member of the congregation played the guitar and sung hymns in both Spanish and English.   The priest came out and gave his sermon in both Spanish and English as well.

Before services, Burt had viewed a large but tattered Catholic Bible at the altar.   It was falling apart.  Pages were coming out of it.   Consequently, he decided to stay after services out of curiosity simply to talk to the priest.  He was curious to know what it was like being a priest in Communist Cuba.  What he heard changed his life.

There was no freedom of religion in Communist Cuba, only persecution.   The priest, an old white-haired gentle man, went by the name of Father John.  Father John told Burt of his life and what he had faced.  For example, you will recall where Paul reveals in his epistle that he maintained his trade as a tent maker, so that he would not be perceived as a financial burden on the brethren.   The Communist had taken that account, twisted it, and used it as an excuse to pass a law in their legislature prohibiting any minister from receiving a salary from the Church.   There are no professional paid priests or ministers in Cuba, and this of course hinders both the growth of the Church and many from the profession.   Father John, in seeking to follow the Lord, had chosen to be a carpenter for his livelihood. 

Secondly, Peter writes, “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” (Peter 3:15 NIV)  The Communists had once again taken this verse under the guise of religious reform, twisted it, and passed a law in their legislature limiting Christians and ministers only to teach a Cuban on matters of the Bible were the Cuban to ask that Christian or minister a specific question on that specific subject.  The penalty for breaking that law was a 20-year sentence in the sugar cane fields.  Twice Father John had been arrested for breaking that law.  Imagine not being able to advise even young people in proper Christian living unless they asked the right questions.  John’s Communist oppressors kept him in the sugar cane fields for three years for his first sentence, and seven years for his second offense.   He was not imprisoned for the entire 20 years either time because when in prison he simply went about teaching and converting both prisoners and guards.   The Communists could only take so much of that.

When the Communists sentence you in Cuba to the sugar cane fields, it is not with the intent of converting you, but rather to kill you.   Prisoners are given dull machetes to cut the cane, and neither boots nor gloves.   When the prisoner strikes the sugar cane, the stalks are smashed and they splinter.   Consequently the prisoner is cut by these splinters and bleeds every day.   The heat, the humidity, and the bugs all tend to infect these wounds.   Gangrene and infection were a common day occurrence among the prisoners.   Cuba has socialized medicine, which means there are many doctors.   But because the country is so poor there is little or no medicine.   Enter into a Cuban clinic and one is likely only to find aspirin, not antibiotics.   In the sugar cane fields there is not even aspirin, and so the people die.   For ten years the Communists tried to kill this priest in their sugar cane fields.  

The priest was now an old man, used up by his oppressors, but with a quiet gentle loving spirit, which was irrepressible.   Those who are not Catholics priests have the luxury of a wife or husband to help sustain us through the trials of life, for it is written, “It is not good for man to be alone.” (Genesis 2:18).   But this man as a Catholic Priest had never had any such sustenance.   He had only God and his faith in which to sustain him during his life.  

The Communists had other rules.   The importing of Bibles was illegal, and to give a sermon on Sunday a minister had to have the outline pre-approved by a government agency and pay a license fee.  If the Priest could not convince the government to approve his sermon, then none was given.

We here in the West are so blessed. Here at least we can have all the Bibles we want, in a dozen different versions. We take God for granted.  Our lives are so important; we have no time for God.  The Bibles are there but few read them.  We are so arrogant in our ways; we prohibit the Bible from our schools even as literature.   We strike the Ten Commandments from our walls least any child would be instructed.   Like the Communists or Hitler’s Germany, we promote a holocaust of murder on our children through abortions arguing that like the Jews the unborn are little more than a virus to be removed.  As a civilization, how then are we better than the Communists or the worst of civilization?

Burt's spirit was troubled by Father John’s testimony.   The more he thought of what Father John had said, the more his soul became angry.  When he got back to Canada, Burt determined to put a dent in Castro’s Cuba and thought how to bring about some small insurrection.  When one goes to Cuba, one has to go through immigration.   Burt had noticed coming and going through Cuba immigration that their officials hand inspected every piece of tourist luggage looking for contraband (that if found they promptly would steal and take it home for their families) but that they never put there hands on a tourist.   Here Burt saw Castro’s weakness, and he resolved to return in March three months later to exploit that weakness.

Back in Canada, Burt went to the local Christian bookstore in Ottawa.  Burt asked for Spanish Bibles.   The bookstore had none because in Canada the languages of use are French and English.   Burt let the owners of the store know what he had seen and what he intended to do. They entered into Burt's plot and made the necessary calls to ordered 30 Spanish New Testaments with the Psalms included for about $2.25 a piece, all of them each half the size of pack of cigarettes.

Since Cuban immigration only  examined the luggage after a tourist arrives in Cuba, Burt carried the 30 Bibles along with a role of duck tape into the Soviet Aeroflot aircraft in Toronto inside a shoebox as hand luggage and put the shoe box under his seat.   Forty minutes from Cuba, Burt took the shoebox and retired to a lavatory at the back of the aircraft.   There he stripped his clothes and began to duck tape open Spanish Bibles all over my body.   He was reminded of the armor of God:

“Finally, be strong in the Lord and in his mighty power. Put on the full armor of God so that you can take your stand against the devil's schemes. For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms. Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand. Stand firm then, with the belt of truth buckled around your waist, with the breastplate of righteousness in place, and with your feet fitted with the readiness that comes from the gospel of peace. In addition to all this, take up the shield of faith, with which you can extinguish all the flaming arrows of the evil one. Take the helmet of salvation and the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God. And pray in the Spirit on all occasions with all kinds of prayers and requests.” (Ephesians 6:10-18 NIV)

On his knees in an aircraft lavatory in preparation for battle, Burt claimed these verses.  He asked God for forgiveness.  He claimed the blood of Christ.  He asked for His adoption and for His spirit.  He told his heavenly Father that if He would get him through this alive that he would serve God the remainder of his life.  Burt was bargaining with God.  A stranger sight he could not have been.  His armor was open Bibles taped about his arms, biceps, chest, back,  thighs, and calves.   Had the airline hostess walked in, she might well have thought she had just walked in on Clark Kent changing into his suit of steel.  Who could imagine that the Kingdom could be advanced on duck tape?   

Burt had entered the aircraft wearing his usual black business suit, with white shirt and tie.   Now he put on his long black socks so they would at least cover the Bibles on his calves.  He put his white tea shirt on so that the Bibles could not be seen through his white shirt.   The black suit coat, tie, and pants covered a host of sins.   Burt then return to his seat in the aircraft, and continued with prayer.

In Havana, his passage through custom’s inspection proved totally uneventful.   The inspectors went through his luggage as expected but they never touched Burt.  Burt was friendly, polite, essentially non-communicative but firm.   After customs inspection, the planeload of people boarded large tourist busses, which commonly drove them along Cuba’s freeways the three hours to Varadero.   The busses were not airs conditioned so Burt was fairly warm.   Besides a driver, each bus had a hostess who served beer, lemonade, drinks, and peanuts.   Burt sat almost in the very back of the bus hoping not to be noticed.   The stewardess came upon me, “Mia amiego, you are to hot in that jacket.  Here, let me help you take it off so you can relax.”  The stewardess was trying to help Burt take off his jacket.  “You are on vacation.  Enjoy yourself.  You are in Cuba.”   Burt's heart pounded.  Did she know?  Had he been found out?  Was he about to be arrested?  His sunglasses hid the panic that he was sure within his eyes. Burt replied,  “Thank you for your kindness, but I feel more myself wearing my suit coat.  Could I have one of those lemonades?”   The stewardess took her hands off Burt's suit coat, gave him the lemonade and went on her way.   Burt had not been found out.

Sunday, in Cuba Burt went to church.  He brought the shoebox with him now once again filled with Bibles.   He waited till after services.  The church only had a single service and there were no more than 30 people in attendance.  Most were elderly, but there were some young people, and there were a few families.   Burt saw Father John.  He asked to see the priest alone on a private matter.   Father John said he could talk to him about a half-hour after services.   

The two men met alone in the church later.   Burt sat on one of the benches with the shoebox next to him.   The priest sat down beside him and questioned, “Yes, my son?”   Burt replied, “These are for you.”  The priest opened the shoebox.  His eyes widened and in a moment he fell to his knees sobbing, “Thank you Lord.  Thank you Lord.  I have waited so long.  Thank you Lord.   Mia Amigo, what have you done?  What have you done?   Thirty years I have prayed for these.   Since the revolution I have waited for these.   At last I can teach the children.”   Kneeling in the dirt, he placed his hand upon Burt's knee as Burt comforted him with his hands upon the old priest's shoulders.  The priest continued,  “Thank you.  Thank you.  You don’t know what this means for our children.”

Three times more Burt journeyed to Cuba, each time with 30 Bibles duck taped to his body:  December 1983, March 1984, and December 1984. When Burt came to Father John in his fourth and last trip as a Bible smuggler there was fear in the old priest’s eyes,  “Mia amigo, you must leave.  You must leave quickly.  You must never return.  You are in danger.  The federalizes know of you.   Two weeks ago they were here.  They took me to prison.  They questioned me. They asking of the white tourist who visits this church.  They are looking for you now.  If they catch you, they will kill you.”   Burt comforted the old priest,  “Did they take the Bibles?”   He answered, “No, they did not take the Bibles.  They will never take those Bibles!  The Bibles are safe.”   Burt handed him yet another shoebox of Bibles,  “Well, then there is no problem.  My mission here is done.”   The two men said their good-byes.  Burt has never returned to Cuba since.

These experiences changed Burt.  God was no longer simply a casual matter in his life.   Burt had given his word to his God those years ago that he would service Him for the remainder of His days.  For it is written, “But as for me and my house, we will serve the Lord." (Joshua 24:15 NKJV)  The scripture requires of  us a conscious and deliberate will by His disciples to serve.    Whatever Burt has done has been to try and keep to this covenant that he made with His God on the way to Cuba those years ago.

 

 

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