October 7, 1977
God Did A Miracle
All the next week seemed anticlimactic. The huge mail deliveries fell almost to zero. Money still trickled in: $100 on Monday, $50 on Tuesday, $30 on Wednesday, but the well was dry. Once in a while friends would call to ask what was happening, and we would tell of our extension of time and our continuing need. And we would then ask them to pray.
Friday morning, October 7th, we were all at the office early. By the time the banks opened, David Kolb, our accountant, was already at the teller's window. He had carefully deposited all gifts for the property in a savings and loan association, hoping thereby to gain a few extra dollars of interest. Now he withdrew all but the dollar necessary to maintain the account and drove several blocks away to the bank where we had our checking account.
For two weeks we had been expecting the two checks from Portland. One was a loan for $100,000 from Mr. Ottomoeller, who had given us the $10,000 toward our option. The other, a check for $45,000 was the tithe from the insurance adjustment on the Aloha church fire. Almost daily, David had checked with our bank to see if that money had yet arrived. Each time, our bank informed him that,
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unfortunately, those funds were still tied up in the branch office in San Francisco.
But today was the day the money had to be paid, and David was desperate. "What would you suggest we do?" he asked the teller. He knew that our bank would not honor those funds until they literally had arrived on their premises in Pasadena.
That was not our only banking frustration that day. Sheri, running back and forth between the office and the bank, reported a new crisis each trip.
"Dr. Winter told David to pass the money withdrawn from savings through the checking account so we would have a bank record that would cover all transactions. Now, just after David finished depositing that money, they informed him that there is a bank policy forbidding large withdrawals less than a week after a large deposit is made."
The next trip: "they can't find that $46,000 deposit I made yesterday at closing time." She was really in a panic over that one.
"Sheri, don't you have your deposit book, or a signed duplicate of the deposit slip, or something?" I asked her.
"Oh yes! Of course I do," she beamed, and dashed off to the bank again.
We had a property deed, given us by John Patterson of Bethlehem church, one of our most faithful helpers throughout the summer. It was worth about $11,500, but now we needed cash.
"The college authorities may not want to accept a deed," Hal worried. "But if they insist on cash, we'll have to take out a loan. But where will we get the money?"
"How are you coming? Is all the money in?" a man from the area called. Jamie, our receptionist, somewhat dejectedly told him about our problem with the deed.
"How much is the deed worth?" he asked.
"Eleven thousand, five hundred."
"Oh, is that all? Well, I can lend you that much for a few days.
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No problem." And he got in his car, went to the bank, and arrived at our office in time to catch Sheri on her next run to the bank.
All that morning we had been wondering what to do about the $50,000 Ahmanson check. The other large checks we had received had all come from organizations having their own tax-exempt status, and thus could be put directly into our accounting system. But the Ahmanson Foundation had donated this money to the university, and had required a university tax deductible receipt.
Several months before, we had applied for non-profit, tax-exempt status for both the U.S. Center for World Mission and the William Carey International University. Everyone warned us that even if correctly filed, it would take anywhere from six months to two years for our papers to be processed. Most people assume that only lawyers can property fill out the forms. But the IRS office in Washington, D.C., admitted we could save the lawyer's fee and fill out the forms ourselves. They had even hinted that personally-filed forms received preferential treatment.
There had been a minor crisis in our office, however, when Ralph decided to follow the suggestion of the IRS office in Washington instead of conventional wisdom. "If you broke a leg, would you try to fix it yourself?" one asked.
Bruce Graham, our young aeronautical engineer and a graduate of the Massachusetts Institute of Technology, worked diligently on the forms, calling the local IRS offices whenever he ran into a snag. Fortunately, the people there were very friendly. They knew of our crisis and promised to call us when our tax-deductible status had been granted.
Six weeks had now passed, and we still had heard nothing from the IRS.
The previous morning Ralph had left for Columbus, Ohio where he was to address the International Society of Christian Endeavor. He had accepted this engagement months before, knowing the date was beyond our first deadline.
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Now, in spite of our crisis, it was too late to cancel. "I'll just have to keep in touch by phone," he told me when I expressed dismay.
It seemed as if he called every hour, but our problems were so many, it still wasn't often enough. On one of his calls, Hal mentioned that we still didn't know what to do about the $50,000 Ahmanson check.
"Why not have Bruce call the IRS," Ralph suggested.
Why not, indeed! Such a simple solution!
"Oh, I'm so glad you called," the IRS secretary told him. "We've been trying to reach you but I seem to have misplaced your phone number. We're happy to tell you that you have your tax-exempt status — for both the U.S. Center for World Mission and for the William Carey International University. Congratulations!"
We were walking on air when we heard the news. "Thank you, Lord! You've worked another miracle. Tomorrow would have been too late!'
And Sheri flew back to the bank with that $50,000. She found our accountant and the bank officials still in consultation.
"We know that the $189,000 coming from Portland is caught in the bank in San Francisco. And we know the crisis you're in. Even though, technically, we're not supposed to honor that money until it arrives here, we'll make an exception.
"Now, about that other problem. There is a banking rule against withdrawing money you have just deposited, especially if it is a large sum. That's in order for the bank to know the deposit is good. But we know that you just took out of savings and that the money is good. So go ahead and withdraw it," the official said. And David visibly heaved a sigh of relief.
Altogether, scraping up every available penny, we still lacked almost exactly $100,000. Some weeks before Campus Crusade had offered us a loan of exactly that amount,
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"should you need it." Obviously we did, and called them to that effect.
"How can we get it to you?" their business manager asked, "There's not much time left, is there?"
Time was running very short. Already it was after four in the afternoon. Though ordinarily it takes only thirty minutes or so to get from Pasadena to Pomona, during rush hour traffic, especially on Fridays, it can be very slow. And David was still at the bank.
"Look, I think we'd better send someone to pick up Campus Crusade's check and then hold the lawyer in his office until we get there. I'll go over to the bank and see what the delay is now," Hal said. And off he went.
"Their check writing machine can't write a check for $750,000," David told Hal when he arrived. "They're having to give us five checks. That's why it's taking longer."
The rest of the story was one of a mad dash by freeway during the worst hour of the week. Hall got there a few minutes late, but the lawyer was still there. Hal handed over the checks; the papers were signed, and within minutes our men were on their way home, having paid the impossible $850,000 in full.
The struggle had been great, yet in a very strange way we felt like mere instruments — puppets, almost — in the hands of a purposeful God. Things were obviously beyond our control. Not even by faith could we have foreseen how God could possibly answer our prayers. Yet He did!
In the eyes of our staff and the Christian community, God won great glory from this miracle. More importantly, perhaps, He was glorified in the eyes of the cult.
Two weeks before, a long article had appeared in the Pasadena newspaper about Summit. At that date the situation for us certainly looked hopeless. The newspaper correspondent,
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warmly admiring their leader, Elizabeth Claire Prophet, had quoted her as saying, "We want the will of God. If He wants them to get the campus, that's fine."
We had known for a long time that we were in a "Power encounter," not so much with the cult as with the gods they served. It was a power encounter of the same sort when Elijah on Mt. Carmel challenged the priests of Baal to call down fire from heaven on their sacrifice. "If the Lord is God, follow Him!" he challenged the people. "But if Baal is God, then follow him!" (1 Kings 18:21).
Instinctively we knew that our encounter was important. Cult members, deceived in a mind-bending philosophical system of high-sounding words, needed to know that there is a God who is above all gods, who is not something we will ever become. He is the creator of the universe, and the only redeemer of our souls. They would never be convinced by our words. Only God Himself could demonstrate His power to them, and He would have to do it very visibly and against all sorts of odds.
Elizabeth Claire Prophet had seemed very democratic when she essentially said, "May the best man win." But she had referred to the will of God, and that has nothing at all to do with democracy. God is interested in truth!
For us, what a time of rejoicing! What a time for praise!
What a time, also, to remind ourselves why God had done this miracle. It was not because we were so good, or so holy, or so full of faith. It was because we were cooperating with His will, as Mrs. Prophet unwittingly implied. Long centuries ago God announced, "I am God, there is no other. I have sworn by Myself and I will never go back on My word, for it is true. Every knee in all the world shall bow to Me, and every tongue shall swear allegiance to My name" (Isaiah 45:22-23).
And our hearts echo, "So be it, Lord. Amen!"
