When Witch Doctors Tried to Take Reinhard Bonnke Down
During early years, Bonnke had no church nor pulpit. His only gospel tool was an accordion which he played to attract African crowds at city bus stops and street corners. Once a “congregation” gathered, he preached to them.
“There were seven happy years where God blessed everything on a small scale,” remembers Bonnke. But then he became restless, envisioning setting all of Africa aflame for Jesus Christ.
How could he do it? In 1974, as Bonnke walked along a city street one day with his accordion, praying silently, “Power flooded my whole being,” he recalls. “It was as if I heard a voice clearly say, ‘Do you want me to give you $1 million?'”
Bonnke remembers the brief moment in which he fantasized evangelizing the whole African continent with what he considered then to be a vast sum. Tears suddenly filled his eyes and he raised his arms to the Lord.
“Not $1 million,” he responded. “Give me one million souls. One million souls less in hell and one million more in heaven. That shall be the purpose of my life.”
Overnight his ministry began to grow. His monthly support increased. He began starting small churches and assisting them as they built buildings. He helped start a Bible college and establish a printing house that soon was putting out a monthly Christian newspaper with circulation larger than any other secular or religious publication in the small country.
“The work grew and grew,” Bonnke remembers, “until one day the Lord said, ‘I want you to move into the whole of Africa.'”
He and Anni and their three young children felt guided by the Lord in 1977 to move to Johannesburg, South Africa. There they waited.
“How am I to tackle the whole of Africa?” Bonnke asked the Lord.
This time there was no answer.
The Lord would not respond for two years—not until 1979. While Bonnke waited, he continued preaching, and even started up a radio ministry, broadcasting the gospel throughout Africa.
Then, while on a street-preaching trip in Gaberone, the capitol of Botswana, the Lord finally spoke to him about how he was to reach all of Africa.
“God seems to get hold of me on the streets,” quips Bonnke.
The Lord directed Bonnke’s attention to the National Stadium and instructed him to rent the stadium and the local hall. Bonnke balked, then said, “Lord, I always wanted to preach in a stadium, but when I do people never turn out. But if you say so, I will. It is finished. I will.”
A local church—which numbered 40 members—disbelieved his claims of divine guidance. When he asked for their cooperation, he was asked, “Who are you?”
“I am Mr. Nobody,” he answered frankly. “But God spoke to me and told me to rent the largest hall in town and then the National Stadium.”
The small church’s members and pastor were unimpressed—as were believers in other denominations in the city. So Bonnke continued alone, realizing he would have to depend solely on the Lord. “I’ll do the preaching and You bring in the people,” he prayed. “Just comfort my worried heart and let the first meeting be filled.”
When no more than 100 attended that first night in the 800-seat town hall, “I was naturally disappointed,” he remembers. “But after 10 minutes of preaching, a ‘volcano’ exploded and it has never stopped. Without my preaching upon divine healing, people jumped up from their seats shouting, `I’ve been healed! I’m healed!'”
As Bonnke lay hands on them, row after row fell to the floor. “I knew then why the Lord sent only 100. We needed the floor space.”
Within days the town hall was packed to capacity with people sitting two to a chair. Bonnke knew that it was time to move to the National Stadium. Soon he was preaching to 10,000 people.
“Into my life the growth came like a mighty bang. It went from minimum to maximum,” says Bonnke. Only weeks before, he admits, “to me 50 strangers in a meeting meant revival.”
