22
Oct

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   Posted by: Caleb Motupalli   in

To all my relatives far & near, as the Lord promised me:
“Believe in the Lord, you will be saved and your household.”

 

 

Autobiography available in paperback & Kindle


Contents

 

Chapter 1:   Introduction

Chapter 2:   My perspective of who Jesus is

References

Chapter 3:   O, here is when, as a fighter trying to live it up, i was overwhelmed, surrendered & received Jesus’ healing for my broken heart

Chapter 4:   Influencers

Chapter 5:   Back to the Americas

The 1993 WTC bombing & its Fallout on me

Chapter 6:   The call and onset of my ministry

Chapter 7:   Consecration

Chapter 8:   Return to India with Clay five months inside womb

Chapter 9:   9/11

 

 


 

 

 

 

Chapter 1:

Introduction

 

Psychologists and Psychiatrists often talk about delusions when they are dealing with manic-depressives and other kinds of psychiatric patients. The dictionary definition of a delusion is “false belief” and psychiatrists call it “going off on a tangent.” Though i am now totally stable by the grace of God, i am a manic-depressive myself and i had often found my faith at crossroads with delusions. For faith is making substance in our minds of things hoped for, as though we already obtained them, having been given a little evidence through God’s will, made known to us, of things not seen (Hebrews 11:1 KJV Paraphrased). And this is the sort of thinking that can easily turn delusional for someone like me. Therefore, is my relationship with God, just an aspect of these delusions and not based on reality? That God has illumined me and continuing to do so, may seem like a paradox but it is true. Indeed when i ask the Lord, “How have You loved me more than these?” The answer is always: “I have revealed Myself to you and have given you everlasting life.” How i am to overcome this paradox when relating my testimony to someone is a burden that the Lord has graciously placed upon me. I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me! I shall live a monument of God’s grace and power.

Given that our relationship with Christ is a matter of life and death like a compass is for a sea voyage or a guide for a journey across the desert, i hope you will take this brief autobiography of mine to heart.

 

 

Chapter 2:

My perspective of who Jesus is

 

If for some reason you cannot read this entire autobiography, do read this chapter at least.

WHEN I was a kid, I used to think Jesus Christ was one of the many gods that we worshiped and whose pictures hung on the walls. And that was it! I never got a fair chance to look closer until recently. But when I did, the world turned upside-down, inside out. It took God however, a good lot of knocking on my head to get my attention. I was too engulfed with the things of the world. Matters pertaining to “GOD” had little or no impact on me. I was almost an agnostic, believing that God is unknown or unknowable. As for indulging in pleasures, there was no end to it. And it came to pass that I went through a period of great trauma. I was financially, socially and psychologically bankrupt. I even ended up in a homeless shelter. But it was in confinements such as this, that all worldly noise faded away, God alone came into the limelight. Indeed, I thank God for all the pain I went through. He jerked me to attention all right, but I got to find who Jesus Christ really is. I could have never woken up to this fact if life had been just business-as-usual.

What’s more, i thank God that i was sinner enough, needing a savior! As C.S. Lewis so eloquently put it:

“Prostitutes are in no danger of finding life so satisfactory that they can’t turn to God: the proud & self-righteous are in that danger.”

 

It is not so much in the information itself as it is in the perspective. Practically everybody in the world has developed some kind of an idea about Jesus Christ, but if you would only care to stop and reconsider, the revelation is mind blowing and the benefits(1), even more.

 

This is my perspective and of many other, around the world. Let me begin it this way: for all we know, there is a somebody intelligent behind all that we see. Take for instance the design of the eye, let alone the nerves that carry the message to the brain. It will take a substantial amount of reading on the theory of optics to unravel it. A person, who says this is “chance,” is like one who thinks he will get a quartz watch if he bangs his old mechanical watch up against the wall. It is easier to believe than to disbelieve but we are products of His creative genius. Further, there is something inside of us that seems to resonate with this creation that tells us this Creator is personal too, who has tastes similar to that of ours. For instance, one cannot help but be awed by the fragrance and beauty of a lily in the garden.

 

As for life after death, I can give you ten reasons to believe that there is. Just as a new born baby lives with it’s new found senses even after the very source of life– the umbilical cord — is cut off, so will we, after we breathe our last in this womb of time-space. And where we will be born into, is NOT altogether opaque!

 

This Creator (God) has set out an order for us to live with lots of freedom. Any straying(2) on our part from that order hampers/disrupts His good plans. He loves us much, so He is willing to forgive(3) us, but since He is also just, He will punish us or will require us to pay an “atonement” for our sins. While this has been the history of the general relationship that man had with God, something else was in the making. Genetically(4) or otherwise, man brought with him through the centuries this “straying behaviour” that we call sin. Instead of putting a leash to it, man found himself continually toying with it and became utterly sinful. Sin now had a leash on him instead. Such was man’s condition I believe, when God despaired the most. He saw man was about to perish in His Justice. He could not bear to see that, as He loved him much. He saw one sure means to save him: give(5) away His beloved Son who would die for the sins of the world. The sacrifice was acceptable, as He was fully man (e.g.: could experience the same pain like man) and never sinned(6). This precious gift would be available to all, but only those who humble themselves and receive it, would get to have it. This way, imparting both love and justice to mankind — the perfect plan of God!

 

In essence, the primary mission of Jesus Christ on this earth was to lay down His life for us. Someone once told me this real life story, that helped me a great deal to understand what Jesus Christ had done; and what “love”, “sacrifice” and “propitiation” really mean. It happened in the early 1900s in the state of California. Two Chinese brothers lived together in San Francisco. The older of the two was of good character and high moral standards. However the younger one was into all the wrong things. One day when the younger Chinese man was gambling on the street, a fight broke out between him and his opponent and it ended with the Chinese man killing his opponent. With a view of going into hiding, he went home, put away his blood stained clothes in a closet and ran out. The older brother returned home from work and found the blood stained clothes. He concluded that his kid brother was in trouble again and quickly wore those clothes himself to protect him. When the police came searching, he surrendered himself in place of his brother. The court ordered capital punishment, and the Chinese man was executed by a firing squad. After getting wind of his brother’s death, the younger Chinese man came to the judge pleading guilty, confessing that he was the real killer. Can you guess what the judge had to say? “The crime has already been paid for. We cannot do anything to you. You are free to go” was indeed the judge’s response!

 

This is the way of Mercy God has set out for us. All our wrong doings were upon Jesus (“He became sin for us”)(7) and He endured death on the stake God prepared for Him. Think about it–“Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends.” He has made His move; now it’s your move. Respond to His love today! Recognize that you are indeed a sinner. Receive Him as your saviour. Repent from your sin. The fact that God raised Him from the dead on the third day is proof that we are justified fully in His death. The only thing that is asked of us from hereon is to lead a blameless life, keeping God’s Commandments. Indeed, I see this saving principal as a Law of Nature too.

 

You cannot help taking a closer look at this man Jesus. If you look beneath His down-to-earth humanity and consider His birth to a virgin woman, “see” Him healing a paralytic, giving sight to a blind man by birth, even raising a man from the dead, commanding the winds to calm down, walking on water, feeding thousands with five loaves of bread and two fish, getting His tax money out of the mouth of a fish caught at random by His disciple, and breaking the barrier of death itself in His resurrection, … you will find that you cannot help but acknowledge Him as Christ, the Anointed One in whom the fullness of God dwelt! Indeed He is the Son of God the Most High.

 

*  *  *  *

At first, I didn’t think anything much about this sacrifice because I didn’t see myself as a sinner. As long as I didn’t hurt anybody I was Ok. I didn’t need a saviour. On the contrary I wanted someone to bolster me up. Not until later, did I realize that just as a speck of dirt can make a glass of water unfit for drinking, God too sees us unfit to enter His presence if we harbour the guilt of even one sin. And I realized all were sinners(8) including me. The message of the sacrificial death of Jesus Christ became all-relevant. Even as my soul was panting for hope and life, my burden became light when I read “Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest”(9) among many other verses that Jesus spoke while He walked on this earth. Seeing Jesus sacrificed on the stake opened up my eyes to how degenerate I was. It was in the month of August 1989 that I surrendered to Jesus Christ and was baptized that December. I do not think that I have been made perfect already, but I press on toward that goal. All my wrongdoings (sins) have been wiped out clean! I can now look to start my life afresh! Indeed I am supernaturally born-again(10)(11) (as a butterfly from a caterpillar) by the Spirit and of water to live forever. This is real freedom, not like what the world offers. It is a first class ticket to heaven. And, it’s free(12)! (But don’t forget it’s not cheap — it cost Jesus His very life and the Heavenly Father His only begotten Son.) This new found freedom and Grace does not give me a license to sin but rather motivates me to do good deeds, starting with the keeping of the Commandments of God. If we falter He is faithful and just to forgive us when we confess our sins(13)

 

To accept Him as your saviour means, you are with Him through thick and thin, even as you are changing your mind about the things of life and starting to obey God (which is repenting). Moreover the Holy Spirit of God by whom you were conceived again will also reside inside you and help you in your growth. What you will witness at the onset is an exercise of faith(14). This faith, remember, unlike others, is one that you can taste(15) before you take a plunge into it. Try Jesus!

 

If you find Him to be good don’t forget to share Him with others. This is the greatest good you can ever do to someone.

 

References

 

1 And this is eternal life: [it means] to know (to perceive, recognize, become acquainted with, and understand) You, the only true and real God, and [likewise] to know Him, Jesus [as the] Christ (the Anointed One, the Messiah), Whom You have sent – John 17:3 (The Amplified Bible)

 

2 All we like sheep have gone astray, each of us has turned to his own way; and the Lord (God) has laid on Him (Jesus), the iniquity of us all – Isaiah 53:6 (New International Version Bible)

 

3 The Lord (God) is slow to anger, abounding in love and forgiving sin and rebellion. Yet He does not leave the guilty unpunished; He punishes the children for the sins of the fathers to the third and fourth generation – Numbers 14:18 (New International Version Bible)

 

4 Therefore, as sin came into the world through one man (Adam), and death as a result of sin, so death spread to all men because all men sinned – Romans 5:12 (The Amplified Bible)

 

5 For God so greatly loved and dearly priced the world that He [even] gave up His only begotten (uniquely conceived) Son, so that who ever believes in (trusts in, clings to, relies on) Him shall not perish (come to destruction, be lost) but have eternal (everlasting) life -John 3:16 (The Amplified Bible)

 

6 For we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are-yet was without sin -Hebrews 4:15 (New International Version Bible)

 

7 He personally bore our sins in His [own] body on the tree [as on an altar and offered Himself on it], that we might die (cease to exist) to sin and live to righteousness. By His wounds you have been healed -1 Peter 2:24 (The Amplified Bible)

 

8 For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God -Romans 3:23 (The Bible)

 

9 Come unto me all ye that labour and are heavy laden and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me; for I am meek and lowly in heart: and ye shall find rest unto your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.-Matthew 11:28-30 (The King James Version Bible)

 

10 Therefore if any person is [ingrafted] in Christ (the Messiah), he is a new creation (a new creature altogether); the old [previous moral and spiritual condition] has passed away. Behold, the fresh and the new has come -2 Corinthians 5:17 (The Amplified Bible)

 

11 Jesus …, “I assure you, most solemnly I tell you, that unless a person is born-again (anew, from above), he cannot ever see (know, be acquainted with, and experience) the kingdom of God.” Nicodemus said to Him, “how can a man be born when he is old? Can he enter his mother’s womb again and be born?” Jesus answered, “I assure you, most solemnly I tell you, unless a man is born of water and spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God. What is born of (from) the flesh is flesh (of the physical is physical); and what is born of the spirit is spirit” -John 3:3-6 (The Amplified Bible)

 

12 For it is by free Grace (God’s unmerited favour but based on humility) that you are saved (delivered from judgement and made partakers of Christ’s salvation) through [your] faith. And this [salvation] is not of yourself [of your own doing, it came not through your own striving], but it is the gift of God; Not because of works [not the fulfilment of the Law’s demands], lest any man should boast. [It is not the result of what anyone can possibly do, so no one can pride himself in it or take glory to himself] -Ephesians 2:8,9 (The Amplified Bible)

 

13 If we acknowledge our sins, He is trustworthy and upright, so that He will forgive our sins and will cleanse us from all evil-1 John 1:9 (New Jerusalem Bible).

 

14 Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen -Hebrews 11:1 (New King James Version Bible)

 

15 Now Thomas, called the Twin, one of the twelve, was not with them when Jesus came. The other disciples therefore said to him, “We have seen the Lord.” So he said to them, “Unless I see in His hands the print of the nails, and put my finger into the print of the nails, and put my hand into His side, I will not believe.” And after eight days His disciples were again inside and Thomas with them. Jesus came, the doors being shut, and stood in the midst, and said, “Peace to you!” Then He said to Thomas, “Reach your finger here, and look at My hands; and reach your hand here, and put it into My side. Do not be unbelieving, but believing.” And Thomas answered and said to Him, “My Lord and my God!” Jesus said to him, “Thomas, because you have seen Me, you have believed. Blessed are those who have not seen and yet have believed.” -John 20:24-29 (The Bible)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3:

Dear friend,

 

Loving greetings in the matchless name of the Lord Jesus Christ!

I was born (March 26th, 1965 | July 26th, 1966 on record) in a Hindu family and the name given to me through naamakarnam (naming ceremony) was SitaRam, which is the name of my grandfather carried down through generations. I had my head shaved twice in Tirupathi (A famous Hindu worship place in India)and followed many other Hindu customs of my family. But in reality, i did not believe in much of what i was doing. I was more of an Agnostic than a Hindu during my childhood. Though my mother kept sanatana dharma (worship of husband expressed in the washing of husband’s feet) and organized endless poojas (rituals) and vasthu shastra requirements to ward off the evil spirits that seem to haunt us with my father battering her, sometimes even with bloodshed, the evil spirits did not leave us. At one point of despair and hopelessness my mother did the ultimate by jumping into the deep well. She hit the rock bottom and got kicked back up to the surface of the water. With fear coupled with pain of death now gripping her (i guess) she held out her arms and legs outstretched to the walls of the well. When she heard our cries up above, with my brother still a toddler at that time, she decided to live for us and called out for help. The neighbouring servant boy (Ramudu by name?) heard the cries and came and let out the rope with bucket, by which she was raised back up from the bottom of the well (about 1.5 meters in diameter with water about 25 feet below).

The next significant thing that happened was the change of our names by amma to supposed nicknames: SurEsh instead of the rather lengthy SitaRam & SuDeep for my brother instead of Subba Rao.

My first school was a Telugu medium Dhumplai (yam) school at Kovv-ur (fat/suet village). At age 4/5 i used to walk a couple of miles to it. Almost everyday i used to arrive late and got caned on the legs by the class teacher. Everyone sat at their respective spots on a couple of long stools that were barely two inches from the ground on either end of the thatched hut. Then the master himself casually took rest with his head on his desk. And daily, a thieving classmate used to showup in front of us while the master was fast asleep. With his eyelids flipped back, he terrorized each one of us in turn. He always succeeded in making me part with the coin i stole from amma’s dibbi (money box) for buying myself candy at the roadside shop. Without proper fatherly discipline, at that age (4/5) even, i experimented with same-sex with a boy next door as well as oral sex with another girl in the neighbourhood. Brewing poison using dead spiders and cockroaches along with some salt and pepper were the little fun times i had as a child.

Amma maintained a big garden in our house that had spacious inner yard all around. She mused over the flowering trees in the garden in her free time, believing tomorrow will be better just like the fantasy based movies she saw as a child. And then trying to be content with the village life, making friends of neighbours as possible–a slow life that was forced upon her through marriage. This is nowhere in comparison to the life of a financial manager that she was as a kid, managing the large estates and properties that her father left behind. Only to be frisked away into marriage at the age of 16.

In that garden, at one time, i experimented with what it would be like for a little lizard that i caught, to be burnt alive as i dangled it by its tail on fire. Even as it twitched and turned, it felt good torturing something that looked like a snake. I waited on to see at what point it would be lifeless. I also expected to see the skeletal remains of the lizard. I saw the pain it went through opening its mouth wide, twitching and turning, but uttering not a sound as i tortured it. My curiosity to know about life and death trumped any conscience i had about this beautiful creature of God that was dying in my hands. I was 4/5. However, my love for chickens in the house (pets to me) was so great that i went into temper tantrums when one was slaughtered without my knowledge. But when evening came, i forgot all about it and eat with delight the delicious chicken curry amma made.

German and Japanese engineers came on visits to the Caustic-Soda plant in Kovv-ur where my father worked as an engineer and our family even got photo-ops with them when they visited our home as well.

My father went to the factory in a bicycle. My mother taught us to bid my father ‘tata’ (goodbye) as he left for the factory. He too waved back from a distance. He was a workaholic, married to his work, it seemed. He listened to the news daily on the radio. He maintained a big library of books, which featured even a science encyclopaedia. Great, by Indian standards for someone who was brought up in a village called Akividu. Idol worship, as per ancestral traditions, came only second. Nevertheless, it was ingrained in his mind. He was so fond of the teachings of Vivekananda and his guru Sri Ramakrishna Paramahamsa that he even drew a portrait of him only to gift it to the managing director at his plant. BTW, in the beginning he adored my mother too and drew a stunning portrait of her as well. I have never seen anything like that even in art galleries. He was very athletic and had represented his university in football. He did daily push-ups to maintain his physique. In short, he was quite proud naturally what with all these talents, knowledge, physically fitness and artistic prowess. Thammudu and i used to lovingly call him “Nandy”, a short form for “nana garu andi” (in Telugu, addressing father very respectfully taught by my mother).

With our maternal in-laws rocking the boat about property disputes in Vijayawada, my father had a mental shock after a humiliation he received by his co-brother (my maternal uncle). What with the vulnerability he had to stress, resulting in mental breakdown a.k.a. clinical depression, the marriage became hell for my mother. My father vented his frustration of failing to raise capital for his paper factory project, i guess. There was blood-shedding kind of beatings my mother received for trivial things, sometimes even while she was asleep. At times after beating her, he would drag her on the rough floor by her hair and leave her outside the gate on the street to the gloatings of Brahmin housewives in the neighbourhood. While my brother, who was dazed by all the violence, quietly went and sat in the taxi that would take us to our maternal grandmother in Vijayawada, i was furiously defending my bleeding mother with my fist hammering away on my father’s hand as he now relaxed in the armchair in the front porch.

My mother saw that the fireworks at home were having a toll on us psychologically, as well as academically. She herself had a bleak chance at studies with her rich father having passed away when she was only two years old. She wanted us to be literate and in a good English medium school. The trouble in the home would not stop her from getting us good education. By appealing to my pedhanana (eldest paternal uncle, who was an IAS officer and served as a district collector) she was wise enough to put me far away (about fifty miles away) in a boarding school (St. Joseph’s convent, Kakinada) while she attended to my brother and my irrational father.

Since i did not know English ABCD, i was back to square one in kindergarten. Due to my age (6yrs, two years too old) and seeing that i was okay with the abacus, the school took pity on me (perhaps with influence from my paternal uncle, who did his own study there) and moved me to 1st standard even before the academic year ended. In the 1st standard/grade, i did very poorly, especially in spelling (with which i struggle, even to this day), while some girls were doing extremely well, to my utter shame. Boarding life at that age was very traumatic. Especially the unkept palms of my hands were filled with sores. Habitually going only in the late evenings to attend to nature’s call, the dimly lit toilet was a daily nightmare. My mother visited me every other month (if i remember correctly). At which time, Mary the aayah (maid) on seeing the sores on my palms would prick each one with a safety pin and extract the puss leaving my hands seemingly all right. At least she was afraid of what my mother would say. Perhaps it was beyond the scope of even these dedicated aayahs to care for such little children as me. After travelling over 50 miles by bus/train, when my amma arrived, i was overjoyed to see her, of course. She would take me far away on the other side of the school grounds, under a tree, and fed me my favourite home-cooked tomato mutton curry with tears rolling down her cheeks. The pain she was going through being separated from her child was met by my own longings for her. I did not understand then the pain she was going through sacrificing her togetherness with me for my ultimate good. I tried to pacify her hoping all will be all right in the end. (It is only recently that I came to know what it means for a mother to be separated from her little ones, seeing how my own wife finds it so difficult to part from our son even for a couple of days.) Amma wanted us to be literate, to have an English medium education at all costs, which she herself did not have the privilege of. And there was no English medium school to be found in the vicinity of Kovv-ur, the village where our family was put up. But the more important reason was: our home was one dysfunctional family with constant fireworks by my father. After tearful parting from my mother, i was back into the gated community of the convent. The one happy time every evening was–i still remember–one gracious anonymous tall boy (perhaps he was my senior by over 10/12 years) who chose to play catch-ball with me rather than with boys his own age (angelic) during recess after dinner.  BTW, if dinner was greens, i took the whole portion into my palm and when the lights went out as usual, i flung it far to the right or to the left underneath the dinning table. And incidentally, also receiving splashes of it on my own legs as others did likewise with their greens. My roll number was 9, which was also engraved along with my name (Motupalli SitaRam) on my stainless steel drinking glass and plate.

My mother could no longer take the pain of having me in the boarding school. She left my father alone to himself and came with my younger brother (Subba Rao, now called Sudeep) to live in a rented house with us in Kakinada and send us to school as day scholars. As my brother was too scared to sit by himself with other classmates, amma requested the St. Joseph Convent Mothers to let him sit alongside with me in 2nd standard class (grade). Those were the days of tying dragonfly to dragonfly by their tails with a thread and releasing them into the air oblivious of the pain that those flies were going through. One of those days was when i found two quarters lying on the ground in front of a statue of Mary holding child Jesus. I brought it to my amma and said, “Look amma, what god gave me?” (Perhaps it was just an offering some parent had left before the idol.) And then there was another day on our way back from school, i kicked a bowl of witchcraft (dhristi for warding off evil eye) that was left by itself in the middle of a crossroad. When i narrated to amma what i did, i got beatings from her and also fell sick mysteriously with high fever. And then there was the make-believe sex (God only knows where we learnt it but it came naturally/instinctively to us) on the terrace with a neighbour girl with cooperation from her older brother, who was to sing a song standing at the entrance of the staircase and the stopping of the which signalled danger. And then we got caught even on first attempt not knowing that the signal was given. We were then in our 3rd grade aged 8 & 9 respectively.

We were later frisked to St. Patrick’s Boarding School in Hyderabad to do our 4th standard/grade while our parents had a reunion. This was when my father changed our dates of birth keeping an eye on our retirement age. My pedhanana (uncle), Motupalli Venkata Ratnam, who had influence both in the government as well as with the Jesuits (a Roman Catholic Order) lived in Hyderabad, which was the main factor why we ended up there. These were the school days when i had to prove to my much older seniors that i was a boy. (Did they think that i was one of those transvestites?) I led a few incessant ones to the bathroom and showed them my maleness.

A year later, we were once again frisked to Loyola Public (Boarding) School in Gunt-ur. After one year in boarding, we were back as day scholars with our mother single-handedly taking care of us. Like a cat with her kittens, we moved four rented houses within a span of 4 years.

Those were the days i was greatly influenced by my mother. Our bonding was so great because she was purely living for us after having attempted suicide. Being disappointed by the one whom she worshipped as next to God, ceremonially even washing his feet, on a regular basis, she now left him to himself. My father (YogEswara Rao), who lost his mind after being humiliated by his one and only co-brother over property issues, he became schizophrenic and made my mother’s life miserable, which led to our separation from him several times, stretching over many years each time. I can say without bias that my mother was destitute, having lost her father when she was only two years old, left with no brothers for support except one greedy older sister, who readily took advantage of my mother with the help of her husband (who came across as nothing more than a common, dishonest medical practitioner) along with her father-in-law (a senior defence counsel, patronized by and famous among corrupt government bureaucrats) amassed much of ancestral wealth. My mother’s attempt of suicide was not even something to talk about, with my parent’s marriage having dwindled to very low points.

As a single mother (separated), unheard of among Indian families, she brought us up with tears. Upon a simple recommendation by the landlady of our rented house, who asked her to try Yesu Prabhu (Lord Jesus) as well because amma tried all gods except this “mala jathi” god (the god of the untouchables). She then visited a nearby church called Zion Prayer House, Gunt-ur, where Bro. Aravindam, co-labourer with Bro. Bakht Singh of India, served as god-servant. She was very comforted, even as the Word ministered to her very soul. She was drawn there regularly. We too tagged along with her to the church.

Later we moved to another rented house by the name of Swaraj bhavan. A neighbour, worth mentioning, was a well-to-do Muslim family. They remained strangers to us because of their religion (i guess) until one day, when they let us source essential municipal water from their house by drilling a hole in the wall between our house and theirs.

In the year 1977 when i was in my 7th grade at Loyola Public School, when my mother received baptism—something significant to me—coupled with a message at a Vacation Bible School at Zion, i was illumined about the Lord Jesus Christ as the only one–if there be anyone at all–who can cleanse me of my sure sins. Even though i used to regularly feast on the leftovers of the communion wafer stamping before returning home in the school bus i did not learn much at the Roman Catholic school, who like the Hindus had idols of their own. These were the days i actually enjoyed a paedophile teacher. (Beg your pardon! Only exploration was involved.) But on one particular day, being told about Jesus being alive today in spirit at the Zion Prayer House in Gunt-ur, i put my faith in Him when He did a miracle for me. Along with a fish aquarium as a hobby, i also collected philately stamps. On one occasion, while seated at my study table, even though i rummaged everywhere for a lost philatelic stamp—something precious to me at that time—i could not find the stamp. I was very sad, closed my eyes, and prayed to the Lord Jesus, saying in essence: “if You are for real then please let me have my stamp back.” When i opened my eyes, there it was, right in front of me, on my desk, the lost-but-now-found philatelic stamp. I am positive that i did not overlook the space immediately in front of me while i searched for it. The miracle, however insignificant it may seem now, had all the signs of the supernatural, which gave me the needed evidence of the existence of a living God. Of course, there are many thousands of miracles that the Lord Jesus did for me, but this was the first.

My mother was told that my father was going to die and leave her as a widow.  She was going from idol to idol but found no solace in any. She was really groping for the truth. For, my father’s imminent death meant life or death for her. Even though sati was abolished in India long ago, wives were much attached to their husbands, even if battered and separated like my mother. My grandmother too attempted suicide by jumping into the well when news of her husband’s (my grandfather) passing away, reached her.

My mother too had significant encounters with the divine.  Earlier in the previous year, Jesus woke her up at 4AM, encouraging her to pray saying in Telugu, “అమ్మ నీకు సమయము అయినది, లేచి ప్రార్ధన చేయి” which means, “Mother/Woman, it is time for you, arise and pray.” She too had a small miracle of a cyst on her leg removed when she prayed in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ. She also had a dream of many idols of the Hindu pantheon, breaking down one after another and finally she saw the cross alone remaining to the end as it grew to such a height that it reached into the sky. I personally felt, until recently, that the Cross was an idol just like all the other Hindu idols and must be avoided at all costs. Even Bro. Bakht Singh of India taught us this, so that it doesn’t become a stumbling block to the Hindus around us by our own placing of such, in places of worship.

Her faith was tested when i had a supracondylar fracture on my left elbow falling from a tree when i, along with my cousins and their friends, played the “monkey game.” The elbow broke the second time when i was wrestling with my friend, Vijay, who took offence at me for some reason. Some quacks (i guess) put my hand together (in an outstretched position) with plaster of paris, causing a bend in the elbow that led to many complications later.

Soon after the brief encounter with the living God by way of praying to Jesus through the ministry of Bro. Aravindam of Zion in Gunt-ur, AP, we once again reunited with my father (who was until then at Kovv-ur), and moved to Madras (Chennai) in 1978 where my father hoped to secure employment.

C.S. Lewis once said, “You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth of falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you.” In answer to my mother’s prayers and obedience in dumping all the idols we had of false gods, we saw my father was now alive and kicking, reunited with us.

My brother and i continued to tag along with my mother every Sunday to the church at Jehovah-shammah, Chennai, where Uncle Bro. Phillip (chairman of the governing body of the Indigenous Church Movement that was founded by Bro. Bakht Singh of India) used to serve as god-servant. Along with him were Professor Enoch (also founder of UESI), Bro. B. D. John Uncle, Bro. Sreenivasan Uncle (who took me aside and patiently cleared some of the doubts i had regarding the faith), Bro. Eddy Williams Uncle (whose messages were convicting), Bro. Rajamanickam Uncle (who corrected me about the deity of the Lord Jesus Christ when i insufficiently exalted Him) and later Bro. Thyagaraj Uncle (the Elder who affirmed that Communion was only possible in the spirit) and also others, all of whom tirelessly ministered to me leaving an indelible mark on me.

Meanwhile my father could not see me with the bent elbow. He had me operated upon that involved cutting away a wedge in my elbow and tying with two stainless steel screws to hold my hand together. As the surgeon incorrectly estimated the size of screws to use, one of them caused major injury to a nerve at the site of the elbow. This led to several complications that involved more operations at different sites on my left hand, wrist & fingers.

But along with my brother, Sudeep, we were notorious in Madras (Chennai) for every indulgence under the sun. I was a prodigal son (i guess), living lasciviously, into drugs, alcohol, pornography, even peddling drugs & leaked examination papers alike, and all kinds of other bad habits which i carried over to the university/CIT in Coimbatore, where i became utterly reprobate (of course not in the sense that Calvinists talk about), without any restraint.

As soon as i graduated with a B.E. in Mechanical Engineering in the year 1988, God was gracious to me in spite of my reckless life, and took me to the United States for my Master’s degree in Computer Information Science at NJIT in NewArk, NJ. The first thing i did when i got some free time was go to 42nd street in New York City to view “peep shows.” And then there were those visits to the go-go bars that set this foreigner ablaze. Which Indian male has seen, live, something as erotic as this? And this was available for a purchase of just a bottle of beer, right in our neighbourhood in New Jersey, where i was put up. I spent my first Christmas in America with my cousin, whose name was also SitaRam, who lived near Chicago with his family. As i took advanced courses in Computer Science (since my assistantship paid only for graduate courses) my Grade Point Average (GPA) fell and i ended up losing the assistantship. While the school allowed me to register on credit basis for the second semester (in 1989), my GPA did not improve remarkably to potentially re-obtain an assistantship. But through a PhD level course in Design of Interactive Systems (CIS732), i took that second semester under Dr. Murray Turoff, enabled me to apply for the PhD program in Management OF Information Systems at neighbouring Rutgers University. I wrote an earnest Statement of Purpose titled, “πσ⋈” as part of the application to the program. In this SOP was my exaltation of the God of the Bible, as well as (only in hindsight) God’s own bequeathing me with a two-edged sword (Word/Logos) that formed the basis for an application in these last days (2009) for a patent at the United States Patent & Trademark Office as well as internationally.

 

 

 

 

Chapter 3:

O, here is when, as a fighter trying to live it up, i was overwhelmed, surrendered & received Jesus’ healing for my broken heart

 

It was only in August 1989 when i was at the bottom-of-the-pit, in dire circumstances at a homeless shelter called Goodwill Home & Rescue Mission in Newark, while still in my studies at NJIT that i, a prodigal son, surrendered my life to Jesus Christ as my Lord, in addition to Him being my Saviour during the ministry of Rev. Lee Schmookler.  When i took the altar callhe prayed over me even as i broke down in tears, in total surrender now to God. But i really went through a sort of hellish experience, as a homeless person with only a dog (a friendly Doberman) for company, even having to rob food from a school department’s refrigerator for both of us. The stress i was going through, coupled with an infatuation failure over a girl, triggered a mental breakdown to my already vulnerable, risky mental condition, inherited from my father’s ancestry. Subsequently, i confirmed my surrender to the Lord Jesus by taking yet another altar-call at Faith Fellowship through uplifting preaching by Pastor David T. Demola, who led me in the sinner’s prayer. But things still looked hopeless and bleak, with my college not willing to receive me back due to graffiti i drew in the dorm elevator in defamation of the girl, i guess jealous by the visits of her boyfriend. My cousin from Chicago was summoned to take me away. But in my delusion, i suspected even his friendship and took it for blackmail. However, i did sense inside me that my mother back in India was going through some harrowing experience herself as well. And it turned out to be true that she had to fulfill some financial obligations. Some church friends that my mother mobilized from India came and picked me up and received me into their home in New York, only to later leave me homeless again (perhaps because i smoked) in the subway train station after purchasing a ticket for me to travel with it in an endless loop, listening to music on my walkman all night long.  Finally, i had enough of this homeless life. With my belongings fitting in just one garbage bag, i took the international flight back to India and returned to my village, Akividu. It was a tearful falling from a sort of a cliff experience, really. And what with the Super Cyborger invention that Father God bequeathed to me that can reverse the tide, there are these principalities in the heavenly realm who gloat to this day that it was Satan that was hurled down from heaven after they put their foot on the neck of this supposed archenemy (me).  On Dec 3rd, 1989, i conformed with Christians all over the world by testifying through the Waters of Baptism, administered to me by Bro. Benjamin (senior) of Carmel Prayer House, Vijayawada, for the forgiveness of sins. And by the laying-on-of-hands, i was grafted as a branch into the body of Christ with the promise from Jeremiah 51:20 – He says, “You are My war-club, My weapon of war; And with you I shatter nations, And with you I destroy kingdoms.

But things did not brighten up after the new-life experience. Songs left me! I was diagnosed with Bipolar disorder, inherited from my father and was put on psychiatric drugs.

Before we continue chronologically, i want to digress a bit to talk about a few people who influenced me.

 

Chapter 4:

Influencers

 

Uncle K. Phillip was god-servant at Jehovah-shammah/Hebron, chairman of the indigenous church movement in India promulgated by Bro. Bakht Singh.

After a brief encounter with the living God through the ministry of Bro. Aravindam of Zion in Guntur, AP, we as a family, moved to Madras (Chennai) in 1978. My brother and i used to tag along with my mother every Sunday to Jehovah-shammah, where Uncle Phillip used to serve as god-servant. We were then in our 8th grade in Don Bosco high school, also where John Phillip, Uncle’s son, junior to us, happened to study. These are among the many remarkable ways this man and saint of God has touched me:

The first one was in 1978 when he wrote a personal typed letter sharing his faith to my non-believing father, with whom i think, the engineer Uncle Phillip could easily identify. I still remember from that letter, my first introduction to John 17:3 (“This is eternal life, that they may know You, the only true God, and Jesus Christ whom You have sent”), which is the most jnana yogic verse from the Bible that is so apt for my father, whose name happens to be Yog-eswara Rao. For the time being let us put aside my father, who was later baptized by me only in the not so distant past (2013). But that Jn17:3 verse really began to work a miracle particularly in me, who got to read the letter.

The second incident revealed the prophetic ministry of Uncle Phillip. After a brief stint at a Master’s program in Computer Information Science in the United States, i had returned to India in a tearful falling-from-a-cliff experience. Two years and a mother’s-heart-operation later, i got my 1992 New Year Promise from Gen28:15 (I am with you and watch over you wherever you go and i will bring you back to this land). As we were at that time living in the Jehovah-shammah premises, Uncle Phillip, serving as god-servant there, at the evening family prayer meeting, enquired about what promise i got that year from Father God. When i shared with him the verse i got, he instantly prophesied that i would soon leave for the United States once again. And the next thing you know, everything fell in place, including an educational loan that was sanctioned by the Indian Bank, and within a week i was back in Newark, New Jersey, USA to complete my studies.

My third significant experience with Phillip uncle’s ministry was when i wanted to change my name from Suresh to Caleb. All night before August 20th, 1995, i wrestled with God in prayer (trying to hear God’s voice through scripture) to know His will regarding the change of my name. At daybreak, even though i did not take a wink of sleep, i read my daily devotional from Streams in the Desert by Sis. Charles Cowman. The meditation was from the portion where Jacob wrestles with an angel of God all night and finally blesses Jacob saying, “You will no longer be called Jacob, henceforth you will be called Israel.” Here i was in the middle of changing my own name and the Holy Spirit puts His seal of approval by alluding to Jacob-Israel story of change. As planned the previous day, i took a taxi just at about sunrise and went straight to god-servant Bro. Phillip to do the needful change of my name from Suresh to Israel as the Spirit in the devotional seemed to now suggest. But Uncle Phillip assured me to go with the name ‘Caleb’ as planned. He showed me from a Bible dictionary what the name Caleb means: “a dog that yelps”. I was quite pleased by my new name; thanked uncle and went on to publish my name change in the government gazette as well as in a couple of news papers and in my passport. It was only later i came to know that Caleb was the name of an old testament biblical personality, who followed the Lord wholeheartedly and the one who made claim to Mt. Hebron, a Hebrew word meaning fellowship/church/association. Later i understood Hebron to be a spiritual mountain made of spiritual living stones.

My fourth significant encounter with Uncle Phillip was in 1996 on September 4th, well after the publishing of my testimony titled, “Who is Jesus”. The following day i was going to be fired from my secular job. I approached uncle for prayer in the evening. During our conversation, he shared with me, as petty as i am, his devotional scripture portion for that day, taken from Matthew 3:17 KJV (“And lo a voice from heaven, saying, ‘This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased’“). I was overwhelmed by the implication. I treasured it in my heart, sharing it only with my mother. Of course, i had already received a sharp two-edged sWord (a new logos) from God while in the USA under the mentorship of Dr. Murray Turoff at NJIT, New-Ark, NJ in 1989 itself, which set the ball rolling then itself.

My fifth experience with uncle was around 2009, well after i showed him in his room in Antioch building at Hebron with my laptop, fitted with a data-card for internet connectivity, the web ministry work i was doing under the banner of Skyfeast, which sports an icon depicting a loaf of bread for a logo. Uncle did not seem to be much impressed by it. Later in 2010, in a message in Jehovah-shammah, he was sharing something about his visit to Shalom Prayer House at Rajamundry, AP. Particularly about the meaning of Shalom, which means ‘peace’. And then he digressed to రొట్టెల ఇల్లు | House of Bread | לחם בית which set off in me a euphoric excitement.  At Skyfeast.org, it was business-as-usual ministering the word of God worldwide since 2003 from St. Christopher (St. Kitts), West Indies under the banner of a loaf of bread icon that appealed to me (perhaps after coming across Our Daily Bread devotional). I was unmindful of the fact that Bethlehem (the place of the birth of not only the Lord Jesus Christ but also of King David) meant రొట్టెల ఇల్లు | House of Bread | לחם בית, which the Holy Spirit through Uncle Phillip’s message was now associating with my Skyfeast website. I recently found out through a tweet from Pastor John Piper of another church, also by the name of Bethlehem [Baptist Church] in Minneapolis, USA, that “the house” really meant a spiritual house. I understood this to mean that this tabernacle would be very different from the concrete four-walled house/sanctuary we are used to. The highlight of the spiritual house (website/forum/social-media), perhaps circumscribed by the four edges of a screen, is the way in which communion is undertaken. Suffice to say that communion is really possible only in the spirit (cf. John 6:63).  The NIV of the Holy Bible here correctly translates John 6:63 as: “The Spirit gives life; the flesh counts for nothing. The words I have spoken to you are spirit and they are life.” You see, the flesh counts for nothing. We could be sitting next to each other in a crowded bus/train/plane/building but our minds/spirits are actually miles apart in thinking. Brother Victor Thyagaraj, Elder at Jehovah-shammah, Chennai agreed with me in spirit that Communion is only possible in the spirit. The concept of a physical fleshly rapture is a Hollywood’s take on it. “Now I say this, brethren, that flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable” (1Cor15:50 NASB). But consider an eCommunion such as Skyfeast.org. Millions could gather together here and feast on the “Bread of Life.” This symbolic Bread is the Word, which had become flesh and dwelt amongst men (John 1:14 + John 6:48 + 1John 1:1). Today, that Flesh of Jesus is once again the Word/Holy Spirit indwelling in us–Christians. This eCommunion is precisely what our Rottelaillu (House of Bread) promotes.

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 5:

Back to the Americas

I have to once again take you back to 1992. I was back in the USA on January 21st, 1992 hoping to complete my Master’s degree in Computer Information Science. But to my utter disappointment, i became a “burden” to the state once again and went on welfare because: 1) I was bent on obtaining financial support from Dr. Turoff for the inventive ideas i presumed to have in all probability; and 2) I ran out of medication that i brought from India for my psychiatric problem, and little did i know that those drugs were my lifeline, prophylactically, to keep me from stepping outside my brains. In the news–of which i was unaware of–was the 1993 terrorist attempt to demolish the World Trade Center (WTC). Perhaps i looked like a Pakistani terrorist as i was sporting a beard then, being that there was no time to shave, etc.

The 1993 WTC bombing & its Fallout on me

They barged into my welfare room at Hotel Riveara in downtown Newark. They were putting me out for no reason. Is it because i was a foreigner on state welfare? Or was it because a bible-study friend, who was trying to come to my room on the 5th floor (?) mistakenly, knocked on the room where the owner of the Hotel resided and freaked out taking him for a mugger? Or was it God punishing me for hurting a Pastor’s attractive daughter (whom i met at the First Baptist Church where i regularly attended both Sunday Worship as well as Wednesday Bible Study, being brought in the Pastor’s own van from the shelter) for giving her a paper napkin on which i wrote an affectionate rebuke: “I don’t want to see your anatomy, especially when you are seated cross-legged during church service”? Or was it because i had information pertaining to my invention that corporate America wanted? Or were they simply rounding up suspects, who looked anywhere close to a Pakistani? I was craftily arrested because i took photographs of them and their police car as they evicted me. For the purpose of record keeping of police excesses, i was simply taking pictures of them evicting me. I was arrested and taken to police station, where i was pushed over the edge, so to speak. With one police officer holding me from behind, the police officer, who lost his nerve, seeing me take photographic pictures of him and his car, under the backdrop of the 1993 WTC twin-tower bombing attempt, was provocatively and egregiously trying to break open my camera right in front of me. As a god-servant, i did what naturally came to me. I warned him just as God did Adam if he ate of that fruit, that he was dead if he broke open my precious camera. It contained yet to be developed precious pictures i took on the street with pigeons during my homelessness.  I even requested him to keep the camera with him until all suspicion of me was removed. But he wouldn’t listen. He went ahead with the impropriety leading me to say, “You are dead, if you open it!” I guess they were just looking for an excuse to lock me up. I was put in the Newark jail correctional facility (i guess) for observation. My fledgling faith was now put through the test of fire. In my indignation, i fasted for eight days without food or water. I was demanding God that the cowardly police officer, who put me in there on such superfluous charges of aggravated death threat, should himself, on his own accord, withdraw all these charges against me. I was true to Christ and even witnessed for Jesus among the inmates in a group setting as well as one-on-one. I was continually reading the Bible that which i did not crack open during normal days in freedom except for namesake sometimes or during Sunday worship. I was full of faith when i asked God to bring my brother (whom i delusionally and wishfully took for Jesus Christ) to bodily descend into the pyjamas i held open, as i stood on the edge of my bed, facing the wall of the cell. Being disappointed, I also prayed to other gods, hoping perhaps any of them would hear from cries. But what did i get? At one point i even let a jail inmate who couldn’t stand me put his arm through the bars into my cell to choke my neck. When i was gasping with my trachea almost broken, a police officer got wind of it and shouted at him to get away from me. When he let go of me, i went reeling and fell down, gasping for breath. What was my crime? Was it because i was seen as one simply dumping some good hamburgers into the toilet? Because i was not availing the bail posted by my brother from Albuquerque, New Mexico? Or was i simply an easy target to vent some bullying? Subsequently, i was beaten up black & blue by two other jail inmates who jumped me, being foisted on me (it seemed) by the police officers in-charge, who, in the first place, remotely opened my cell door to allow them inside my cell. From the confines of my own cell, i was doing namaz to Allah. I prayed to Shiva and other gods offering whatever food that was brought to my cell to them and draining it down the toilet. The guy who choked my neck was the one who brought the food to my cell. Perhaps, he did not appreciate me and was filled with aghast, as he saw me ceremonially depositing bit by bit of the ham-burger into the toilet, supposedly as a sacrifice to God even as i fasted. At one point i even thought i was Shiva himself brandishing the turkey towel that was dipped in the dirty toilet and unleashing the supposedly goddess ganga on uniformed police officers that surrounded my cell. And jail nurses too arrived outside my cell and i was terrorized further seeing them with open syringes. BTW, this was Newark jail and almost every officer there was a black man or black woman. I was finally subdued and i buckled underneath my bed as they were many and i could not indefinitely carry on this unleashing of toilet water with towel on them. With hands & feet shackled, they carried me away like a battering-ram to a chamber.  And flat on the ground, an officer put his shoe on my face & neck, perhaps declaring like Joshua in the Bible, a victory over Satan. They then injected a tranquilizer and after i was put to sleep, God only knows what they did to me. Tagged me with a subcutaneous RFID? Next thing i knew when i woke up, i saw myself naked in a pitch dark cell with only a small hole on the door for them to observe me. Once i woke up (after how many days i do not know) i was paraded naked before them, some of whom were women. But if they tried to put me to shame, they did not succeed as i was undaunted, even manipulating my genitals openly as an affront to them. Later after drawing some blood from me, they locked me up near to an in-house physician, who said my kidneys were beginning to malfunction. Meanwhile, the Holy Spirit, taking from out of Hebrews10:35 of my NIV Scofield Study Bible that they ultimately let me have back, was saying, “Do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded.” Another Police Officer, who seemed to take kindly to me, came and asked as to why i was torturing myself or something on those lines. Even as i was foaming in my mouth due to dehydration, i told him what the Lord had told me just then through Heb10:35, not to let go of my confidence. Then he asked me the meaning of the word, ‘Christ’. I said, it means “the Anointed One”. Then he questioned me, “Are you not anointed.” I said, “Yes, i was.” That set the ball rolling (i guess). The next thing you know, i was shifted to Marlboro State Psychiatric hospital, where i expected to receive some intravenous fluid injection. But after seating me at the head of a conference table with male and female doctors all around, they interrogated me, and i confessed that i was at one time on psychiatric medication. And then finding me fondling my genitals, which i continued to do so as an affront to them, they declared that i should be subjected to a high daily dose of Haloperidol, which did indeed torture me for days together like nothing else ever did in all my life. I then capitulated and began to take food and drink. They did not put me off the drug yet. I sought to escape into sleep but they barred me from doing so. At night a kleptomaniac in the dorm would come to my bed to see if i was awake so that he could steal my shoes. His proximity was so close to my face that i could feel his breath on my face and would wake up, alarmed. By morning of course my shoes were gone. But the social worker knew exactly where they were—hidden with the kleptomaniac’s belongings.

Even though i still held to the truth that God will not permit trails beyond which one cannot bare, i did leave my cleaving to Jesus as i was really pushed off the edge. Now i could not hold on to my confidence after this point but had to cave-in. That was the last straw for me. I went and fell at the feet of a secular/atheistic (i think) psychologist’s feet as he walked through the hall that was filled with insane people with all sorts of conditions. I pleaded with him to request the psychiatrist to put me off the drug. I guess the devil momentarily had his victory pushing me off the brink. They did later show me to a psychiatrist, who happened to be an Indian woman. This infuriated me even more as i saw her as the devil behind not only my pain but also of everyone else’s in that dorm. And to think that my own country women would do this torture on me! But i later came to see that she was just a pawn in the hands of corporate America.

With my giving-up of my “confidence” in God, came disenchantment. I began to smoke cigarettes like my old self of the past. I learnt to smooch the American way from a Hispanic woman who gladly taught me the works. On one rainy day, when we were by ourselves, she asked if i wanted to wear the condom. I asked for two, which she did not have. Escaped! Sort of. Even though i did everything except dip my wick, i would have been even more ashamed today had i gone all the way. I guess, i can give company to sorts like Bill Clinton. Forgive us, o Lord, most merciful; it is because of people like us Your name is desecrated!

It reminds me of this devotional by Nicky & Pippa Gumbel: ‘When I felt secure, I said, “I shall never be shaken”’ (Ps 30:6). I know the feeling when faith is riding high, I feel nothing will knock the confidence I have in the Lord. Sometimes, through problems, difficulties or sickness, that confidence is rocked. ‘When you hid your face from me I was dismayed’ (v.7b). Then I’m back calling on the name of the Lord for help (v.2).’

After over six months of languishing again and again between Newark jail and the Psychiatric hospital, finally, the judge at the New Jersey courthouse accepted a social-worker-mediated-insanity-plea. For what? An aggravated crime of threatening a police officer with dire consequences in the capacity of a servant-of-God.  But not before banning me from ever entering the state of New Jersey again. I got a state sponsored flight ticket to Albuquerque, New Mexico where my thammudu/younger-brother (Su-dheep) was doing his doctoral studies in Environmental engineering at UNM. With his influence i got to complete my MS studies, transferring credits i earned there at UNM to NJIT and obtained the degree. But even with medication, i lasted less than a month in a job as a Programmer Analyst. Pastor Skip Heitzig was pastor at Calvary Chapel where i attended that also excommunicated me for unknown reasons, allegedly for a “divisive spirit”. Some of my first epistles were written via fax upon a flying-fish letterhead to this leadership at this church from where i was put out. I ended up returning to India but not before tonsuring my head, disgusted with life, and as a sign of the Precursor to Fire Baptism that is to come, having received it myself, presumably crucifying the son of God all over again. That was 1994 for me.

This time, the fall from the now less attractive “heaven,” was not as severe as at first, because i was almost getting used to this sort of upheavals. But true to God’s promise back in 1992 “watch night service” (Gen28:15), i was back in India, disappointed, no doubt.

We are talking now, after February 17th, 1995 when i got kicked out of both my job as well as my church (Calvary Chapel at Albuquerque). I tonsured my head and returned to India via Singapore in disgust.

As i had a relapse and returned to India, my mother presumed that the allopathic psychiatric drugs did not cure me. Little did they know that no matter how much drugs got ingested into me, unless circumstances improved, for which i was desperate for, there is not going come about a marked change in me. God was surely roughing me up and hardening me (not in the sense of the heart but in the sense of preparing me for a battle). She took me to a homoeopathic doctor, who put me off the former and introduced these symptom inducing drugs, which were expected to find innate like-cures-like solution to my illness. That was the onset of illusory crawling worms all over my body. We ditched homeopathic drugs, not knowing that was how they worked. I was back on Lithium.

If faith in Jesus meant blessing, prosperity and happiness, i wasn’t having it in the miniscule. I reverted back to old ways and became a total hypocrite.

These were such days of desperation because fantasising by way of western cinema (which was borderline pornographic, when compared to our conservative Indian culture) was high. Anything western was consumed liberally. But i am sorry to disappoint some gay people with what follows. Finding myself in a world where there was a dearth of “quality” woman (according to the standards of the world of borderline-pornography in which i lived) that even a man (eager to give me fellatio) was enough for me, while i visualized a woman. What is shocking to me on hindsight was that i was taking residence in Jehovah-shammah (which meant in a very eschatological and hallowed sense, “the LORD GOD is there”). Those were the days during which we were hunting for a cardiothoracic surgeon around the city to operate on my mother, who needed a second heart operation and god-servant Bro. K. Phillip gave us shelter there. Seeing that these western women on the celluloid were insulated from me, i am not surprised that i yielded to the seduction of this gay individual who got me drunk on beer. He happened to be a white American, serving as a reporter at the United States Information Services (USIS), attached to the US Consulate in Chennai. I do believe i was a sex maniac and here seduced into bisexuality. Neither was i, a eunuch! But mortifying my body was all the more sensitizing me, which i guess, was God’s very intention. I must get sexed up enough to want to get married and settle down! God even used AIDS to put a virtual “no-entry” skull sign on brothels/etc if i ever happened to cave into relieving myself sexually. I was thirty one years of age.

But pornography has indeed left me to focus more on the physiology of sexual sensations and not on the relationships for which these sensations are intended. But i wasn’t going to become gay for sure, if that was what Satan had in mind. My imagination paid off, at least for now, in favour of women in general! But Satan’s attempt to smear me black in front of the angelic host, may have gained ground.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 6:

The call and onset of my ministry

Allow me now to rehash some of the finer details of my interaction with God and of my coming into ministry. After i returned to the U.S.A in 1992 when i was fellowshipping at Beth Israel Messianic Congregation in New Jersey, God spoke to me through Matthew 9:9 (“Follow me”) and i helped with “Hope of the World” ministries. Most of 1993 however i spent time in seclusion undergoing traumatic mental agony when God was etching i believe, unintelligible writings on my heart which only now (as Luther says) make sense when they are read in reverse. In 1994 while i was fellowshipping at Calvary Chapel in Albuquerque, New Mexico, i wrote letters to the Pastors there on the “Backsliding” / Rededication paradigm. But i was depressed when the Lord brought me back again to my village in India and i despaired even of life all over again. When i was about to give up the Lord’s work in March of 1995, God spoke to me through Luke 9:62 NIV – “No one who puts his hand to the plough and looks back, is fit for service in the kingdom of God.” In November 1995 when i thought God gave up on me, He spoke to me through Isaiah 41:9b – “You are my servant; I have chosen you and have not rejected you.” During 1995 God also spoke to me through 2 Kings 7:9 – “This is a day of good news and we are keeping it to ourselves.” So i had my testimony printed in the form of a tract titled, “Who is Jesus?” reaching out to Hindus and Agnostics. I also took the name Caleb, as the Spirit led me, to testify with my name as well, among my relatives and friends. In 1996 when i got my New Year’s promise in Deuteronomy 31:8 (“The Lord Himself goes before you and will be with you; He will never leave you nor forsake you; Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged”), i kept up the letter writing to Church leaders at Jehovah-shammah, Madras, India as the Spirit led me. The letters ranged from “The Sabbath,” “The Law of God,” “KJV Bible,” “Worship,” “Works,” “Communion,” “Praise the Lord,” “Jehovah-shammah,” etc.

On January 8, 1996 when the Lord spoke to me through Genesis 12:1 (“Leave your country, your people and your father’s household and go to the land I will show you”), i came to the USA again in October to take up a job. On January 14, 1996 God once again confirmed His call to me through John 15:16 – “You did not choose me, but I chose you and appointed you to go and bear fruit – fruit that will last.” On September 4, 1996 Brother K. Philip, a governing member of the Hebron Fellowship and sister assemblies in India, encouraged me by telling me that his daily portion that day was Matthew 3:17 – “This is my son, whom I love; with him I am well pleased.” Later in 1999, God also promised me that He would make me a light unto the nations. I trust He will.

Anna, my lily of the VALLEY, having been born in a very humble house–the “rose of sharon” (പുഷ്പം):

On April 16, 1998 when i was seeking God’s guidance to marry Anna, who was lovingly called പുഷ്പം (pushpam: malayalam for ‘flower’), God answered me with 1st Chronicles 22:11 – “Now, my son, the Lord be with you, and may you have success and build the house of the Lord your God, as He said you would.” Bro. Eddy Williams, elder at Jehovah-shammah later revealed to me that that verse was also a confirmation of Call from God into ministry. I understood that Anna would be my helpmeet who would share my passion of building the tabernacle/temple of God, which is today dBride.ME digital Church of local churches.

Likewise, the Lord also gave Anna, a verse from the Bible to solidify His will that she should get married to me. That verse was: “Do not be afraid to go down to Egypt, for I will make you a great nation there” (Genesis 46:3). Bro. Paul Sudhakar, who helped with match-making, counselled her that in the Bible, Egypt stands for America. And sure enough she got various other confirmations, particularly a sign she asked from the Lord that came true, where her earthly father, on a specific occasion, should instruct her to get married when a good proposal comes her way. (BTW, it was through responding to a single advertisement in The Hindu daily that sealed her future with me.)

As part of the building up of that House, on September 17, 1998 the Lord showed favour toward me (Psalm 104:10-13; Psalm 132:11,12; Matthew 13:47; Luke 17:22-24) and i launched out into Internet teaching ministry through an ecumenical web-church and Internet forums: Web-Church.net, BrideOfLordJesusChrist.org, Yahwehshammah.org, Caleb.net, news://alt.religion.hindu, news://alt.religion.christian.bible-study and news://alt.christnet.bible. On March 7, 1999 before i laid the foundation stone — the Ten Commandments — on the caleb.net site (which is Softpill.org today), God spoke to me from Ezra 3:8 saying that i should be a supervisor in the rebuilding of the Temple of God. Later, i came to understand that it is a spiritual temple/house that God had in mind for me to build.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter 7:

Consecration

On March 9, 1999 the word of God came to me through Exodus 32:29 NASB (“Dedicate yourself today to the Lord …in order that he may bestow a blessing upon you today”) and immediately i turned in my resignation letter to a secular job with UnitedHealthCare, St. Louis. Around the same time when i telephoned my mother in India about my dedication, she was not for it at first. But the Lord constrained her that very night through her daily devotional (Exodus 22) and spoke to her saying, “Do not hold back offerings …. You must give Me the firstborn of your sons.” She immediately called me and cheerfully told me to go ahead with my dedication. On March 13, 1999 God spoke to me through 2 Kings 9:3 –“Thus says the Lord: I anoint you king over Israel.” I did not know what to make of this. I merely believed that this is God’s way of showing His approval for my dedication.

As i became anxious because i was not doing God’s will of going to Tyre, Lebanon, thus the Holy Spirit called me just now (2014-03-07) for the third time: “Son of David.” I believe this is confirmation that the Lord wants to set up a Global Caliphate at Tyre, Lebanon, using me as a caliph.

On May 29, 1999 i published a book on Sanctification, “Lovest thou Me?” on the WWW. I agree with John Wesley, that Salvation is by “faith that works by divine love.” That is Salvation is by Grace + Faith + Fruit. It is a concerted effort of five – the Father, the Son, the Holy Spirit, the Church and self (synergism).

 

 

Chapter 8:

Return to India with Clay five months inside womb

Fast forward two years, we were back in India with a mission to bring the universal church together and form an eThrone. With this lofty plan also came much temptation. I had conquered the consciousness but not the subconscious. I was having these sexual dreams to which i could not put a leash to. I confided with Anna and contemplated getting a castration. She took me to a psychiatrist at Yerragadda Mental Hospital in Hyderabad, who reminded me about my marital obligations. I prayed and the dreams became fewer.

The next significant thing was we visited Israel upon a call from the Lord, saying, “I will go ahead of you into Galilee, and will meet you there.” The fact that God took us to Eretz Israel in spite of all hardships was surely worth it. What’s more, Clay was three months old as we carried him around, while touring the land.

 

Also in the year 2000, the great Servant of God Bro. Bakht Singh was “called to glory” (went to be with the Lord). He was the one who planted worldwide (especially in Andhra Pradesh and Tamilnadu) over five hundred of what may well be called the God’s-Will-Driven churches.


 

Chapter 9:

9/11

As a feather in my cap, i got to dream the 9/11 WTC attack only four days ahead of time when i was living at Jaffar Ali Bagh, Hyderabad, India. Of course, while i was asleep!

 

In these last days, i have been sent by the Holy Spirit with an apostolic commission to the lost sheep of the House of Jesus Christ with the Words:

 

“Wrap the body in fine linen cloth!” (Matthew 27:59).

“The fine linen is the righteous acts of the saints” (Rev 19:8b).

 

Fast forward to 9th December 2013 A.D. by the decree of the Father/Lord Jesus Christ, the Agape Justice is “Son of David” (Jer23:5-6; Isa11:1-10; 9:6-7) as well—the world-Sovereign de jure (Matt28:18).

 

Hope you enjoyed the content and will visit here often. Abiding in His grip,

Caleb Surésh Motupalli

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