This morning I double checked my gear and loaded it into Dieter's VW Golf. We left early, 7:30
ish ... already a hot day.
Just a few minutes out of St. Georgen, Dieter's handy (cell phone) rang. It was Birgit. She had been reading the Herrnhuter Losungen that morning and was struck by the appropriateness of the text:
Losung und Lehrtext für Montag, 10. Juli 2006Siehe, ich sende einen Engel vor dir her, der dich behüte auf dem Wege und dich bringe an den Ort, den ich bestimmt habe. 2.Mose 23,20 "See, I am sending an angel ahead of you to guard you along the way and to bring you to the place I have prepared ..." Exodus 23:20Der Engel des Herrn tat in der Nacht die Türen des Gefängnisses auf und führte die Apostel heraus und sprach: Geht hin und tretet im Tempel auf und redet zum Volk alle Worte des Lebens. Apostelgeschichte 5,19-20 But during the night an angel of the Lord opened the doors of the jail and brought them out. "Go, stand in the temple courts," he said, "and tell the people the full message of this new life."
Acts 5:19-20Gib deinen Volk auf dem Erdenplan Überall Türen, die aufgetan, Wohnungen des Friedens, Hütten voll Segenund bring uns dann auch von unsern Wegenzurück nach Haus.Give to Your people on the earth everywhere doors, that are open, homes of freedom,cottages full of blessing and then lead us on our way back home.N.L. von Zinzendorf I think appropriate is an understatement. These were marching orders. We were on the road and the Lord was guiding and guarding the path and plan that He had created and commissioned! What a way to kickstart the day! I was full of anticipation ... what would lie ahead?
I like the way Dieter drives ... every opportunity to drive at maximum speed, which includes precision passing on stretches of one lane highway. It makes for an interesting ride for me as a passenger. I trust his skills. I'm still, however, grateful for the battalion of angels that are surrounding us as we make our
way to Eastern Germany.
Our first stop on the way to Zossen would be the town of
Glauchau, a city in Saxony, a city of my ancestors.
Greetings from Dieter: Glauchau 
I am the last survivor and sole heir to my mother's side of the family. The Pfefferkorn lineage has a written history that reaches from me back through history to the 15th century. The earliest descendant is Benedictus Pfefferkorn, (1494 - 1524) Leipzig.
I was named after Christoph von Pfefferkorn zu Chemnitz, a man who lived in the early 17th century. There's a stone relief of him on display in a museum in Chemnitz wearing a full suit of armour. He was "Stadt Hauptmann" (Captain of the Guard?) and later "Rathsherr" (Councilman?) and I believe also had been knighted by the Emperor. The interesting and somewhat alarming thing is ... his son, George Ulrich Pfefferkorn was beheaded in 1614! I have not been able to find a record as to why. Christoph died during the early part of the Thirty Years War.
My mother, Hildegard Gustave nee Pfefferkorn, was born in the city we were now entering: Glauchau. She was born to a wealthy industrialist named Gustav Pfefferkorn who owned two textile mills in the city. The home she spent her early childhood in was a beautiful villa in a tree lined neighbourhood of the upper city.
54 years after World War 2 having been "appropriated" by the East German government, it was left to more or less rot. As it was part of the estate of my late mother, I was to inherit it. I spent 10 years fighting bureaucracy and less than honest lawyers to finally inherit and subsequently sell an enormous home that was in dire need of renovation. Even though it was under "Denkmalschutz" (historic monument protection), surrounded by other villas and down the road from a baroque era castle, I sold it for little more than the price of a parking lot, as the necessary financing to manage the reconstruction was a door that had not been opened to me.
I had not been here since before I sold the estate, and it was with a mixture of curiosity and some sadness that I rode next to Dieter along the streets of Glauchau towards the old family home. I knew that the buyers I had sold to had purchased the property as an investment with a plan to renovate. I remembered how dilapidated the building was and wondered what it looked like now.
As soon as we turned the corner onto Paul Geipel Strasse I was pleasantly surprised to see that the home had quite a facelift done to it and although the main entrance and terrace had been substantially changed the original early 20th century architecture was still intact. Five condominium apartments had been added to the rear and top while a business (a beauty salon) had been constructed on the ground floor. The front yard, a severed property, with it's massive old trees was still as I remembered it, mostly unkempt and uncared for as it was still owned by the city.
I struck up a conversation with a lady standing on an upstairs balcony, who had been watching with some suspicion as I took photos. She invited us in for a tour of her apartment. Quite nice, high ceilings, original stucco work, large original panel doors. I was perplexed by the general feeling of sadness that swept over me as I stood inside. I couldn't wait to leave.
Dieter and I sat out front and ate our lunch contemplating our next destination, the Pfefferkorn family grave in the city cemetery where my grandparents were buried. I hadn't been there since visiting it with my wife 10 years ago. I hoped that the massive tomb and wall memorial would still be there, as there had been some indication from the cemetery keepers that without financial support there was a chance it would eventually disappear. I suspected at the time though, that perhaps that was a "sinister" statement directed at gullible "Rich Westies" by greedy former communists ... I also hoped that I would remember how to get there.
I decided to take a stab at navigating from memory. After several interesting detours and dead ends, with some directions from locals, we arrived. I remembered that the grave was on the perimeter wall, and so we followed it counter clockwise. It was incredibly hot. Dieter started to lose steam and was hinting at a nap in the shade as we walked around most of the cemetery without finding the grave. Finally we found it, about 25 meters the other side of the entrance!
It was a strange feeling to stand there looking at the ancient, massive and eroded stone wall. I had remembered a statue of a crouching roaring lion to one side. It was missing. Did that only exist in a dream? Very puzzling.
A huge stone relief of an angel (with a somewhat dour looking expression) leading a departed soul to glory was inset into the central part of the memorial. Inscribed below that were the names of those that had been buried there, so weathered that they were barely legible. Just above the names and directly below the angel was this verse::
Habe ich dir nicht gesagt, so du glauben würdest, du würdest die Herrlichkeit Gottes sehen? (Did I not tell you that if you believed, you would see the glory of God?) John 11:40
I couldn't remember having seen that verse before. It's such an important verse to me. It was a verse that Benjamin (my son) and I once memorized and spoke to each other during dark and troubled times. Jesus spoke this word to the mother of Lazarus just before he raised him from death to life. A verse, a promise, that brought us through to the other side ... have we reached the other side? Death to life ...
Now getting poetic ...
... many troubling thoughts began to mass yet again at the ramparts of my heart, threatening to scale and invade the walls of protection into the sanctity of comfortable and peaceful identity at my core. ... Help!
What would my ancestors think of me now, Have I failed them? Would they think of me as a failure? A man struggling with hopelessness, cut-off and rejected by his wife and now both his children as well. An estate of a family now virtually extinct, a sole heir unable to sustain, protect and hand down it's legacy to an uninterested and disconnected progeny who no longer believe in the promise or the Promiser. Do I think of me as a failure? What is my true inheritance? What do you think Father?
verse 4: When he heard this, Jesus said, "This sickness will not end in death. No, it is for God's glory so that God's Son may be glorified through it."
Just then, my cell phone rang ...
"Hello this is Pizza, Pizza, did someone order a Pizza? ... How you doing Chris?"
... Marty?
My brother Marty ... brother in Christ ... what timing! He spoke to me about how my brothers are praying for me and holding down the fort, how my home and dog are being looked after. These guys really love me.
My Father loves me ... and one day He's going to show me the wall, just as in the dream ... the wall with the crouching, roaring lion with my name inscribed next to it ... and He will say to me: "Well done, my good and faithful servant!".
Not one of all the LORD's good promises to the house of Israel failed; every one was fulfilled. Joshua 21:45
The Lord promised that He would rebuild my marriage and thus my family ... that's a good promise. I recently looked at the Pfefferkorn family records and spotted my Grandparent's marriage certificate. At the top was written:
... Ich aber und mein Haus wollen dem HERRN dienen. (... but as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.) Joshua 24:p15
That is a legacy, a promise, a blessing, that I have inherited and will live up to.
Zossen Later that afternoon, as we drank our "Frappes" in the town centre, I called Kati Schwabach, logistics organizer for Calling All to Worship, to let her know when we would arrive in Zossen. After a short stroll through the town we left Glauchau for the last leg of the journey.
The drive from lower Saxony, past Dresden towards north eastern Germany was beautiful with it's rolling hills and pine forests. Our destination was the town of Zossen, 35 kilometers south of Berlin. A town of 17,000 that had seen it's fair share of tumultuous history. During the war Zossen was the central command for the Nazis, their underground bunkers located on the edge of town. Later occupied by the Russians and then part of communist East Germany, Zossen wasn't an easy place to be a follower of Christ. Since the wall came down, many good changes had come to Germany ... however Zossen seems to have been largly overlooked, as do many of the smaller centres of the former DDR, with their huge unemployment rates that largly effects the local youth. They bear the brunt of the unemployment statistics which translate typically and sadly into issues of social instability and breakdown in the community. Such a need and hunger for God!
It seemed like the drive had been short as we now travelled the tree lined highway into Zossen. Huge trees with trunks right up to the road's edge. Trees that looked like ancient gatekeepers. What have those trees seen over the ages? War and peace, death and life ... seasons of change ... Are the gates now opening to the King of glory, are they letting Him in?
Erhebt, ihr Tore, eure Häupter, und erhebt euch, ihr ewigen Pforten, daß der König der Herrlichkeit einziehe! Wer ist dieser König der Herrlichkeit? Der HERR, stark und mächtig! Der HERR, mächtig im Kampf! Erhebt, ihr Tore, eure Häupter, und erhebt euch, ihr ewigen Pforten, daß der König der Herrlichkeit einziehe!
Lift up your heads, O you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in. Who is this King of glory? The LORD strong and mighty, the LORD mighty in battle. Lift up your heads, O you gates; lift them up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in. Who is he, this King of glory? The LORD Almighty— he is the King of glory. Selah (Psalm 24:7-10)
I called again, as we had driven right by the church and the cluster of adjacent houses without noticing. Kati and her young daughters, Sophie and Lisa waited for us by the road, waving so that we wouldn't miss them this time. We were welcomed with typical German hospitality and kindness and ushered into the home of young Benjamin Kraus, our "Hausherr" for our eight day stay in Zossen. There we sat down to a relaxing dinner with Benjamin, his friend "Michi" (also staying at the house), Pastor Friedemann Just (FeG Zossen) and his daughter Marie.
We have arrived. Thank You Lord!
I
Psalm Drummers
