CLARITY …

Sizzlers Massage Parlour is a seedy brothel tucked away in a side-street running parallel with Sea Point pavilion, and on the outskirts of Cape Town.  On the outside it looks like any other quaint and humble little cottage amidst densely overgrown shrubs and trees surrounded by a white picket fence.  Perhaps the idea is to create ‘a home away from home’, belying the perverse activities developing within the confines of its decaying walls.  It is also a stone’s throw away from Van Graaf’s Pool - exclusively a men’s only entertainment area, cordoned off by high walls.  Notwithstanding this, the setting is picturesque as a gilded spherical moon suspends languidly over rugged mountains defining its contours.  To the fore a fine mist hovers over a passive sea, waves interlacing as they rise and fall, echoing in the midnight air. The salty tang of the sea air is refreshing and somewhat intoxicating.  Amorous lovers stroll in silence lost in a world of their own, as weary joggers wheeze past them unnoticed.  A virtually flawless setting yet ironically for South Africa this day is to become notorious for the Sizzlers Massacre, or perhaps The Satanic Rites High Day 

It is 00h10 on 20 January 2003 and for the Satanists it’s full moon - a time where barbarous ceremonies are performed and sacrifices are made, where witches and wickers believe that Lucifer bestows on them supreme power during this course of action. However, not all wicked and iniquitous people are Satanists but since the sadistic brutality of many transgressors is so harsh one can be forgiven for confusing the two personas. 

Nevertheless, within the confines of this quaint and humble cottage, Lucifer prowls around lured by the charismatic scent of religious apostates now in his custody.  Tonight he rubs his calloused hands together in glee after summoning legions of demonic militia and two or more of his carnal assassins to gatecrash Sizzlers and to wreak havoc.  He chortles vindictively as a tall, young man’s terror grows whilst those around him are being shoved, terrorized and hacked.  Ah yes that’s Warren Visser, grandson of Pedro Antonio Bera who unwittingly bequeathed his daughter’s soul to him several decades ago, and then refused to comply. She’d become a discourteous insubordinate and hazardous to his Kingdom but after tonight she’s bound to convert.  It’s a matter of killing two birds with one stone – the objective is to ‘kill the child, and defeat the mother’.   

His eyes flit covetously over his ambushed prey with a deep sense of satisfaction brought upon by a burning hatred for mankind.  Now that these backslidden Christians have deliberately strayed into his domain he has carte blanche to do whatever he pleases with his subjects.  It is not without egoistical pride he muses over the susceptibility of man to his ingenious perversity of this world.  However, with these religious deserters it involved mere elementary snares and delusions to entice them away from his sworn Enemy, God so as to  cause Him endless anguish.  It goes without saying that the part that he enjoys the most is watching the God of All Ages witness, through unshed tears, His rebellious children’s traumatic ordeal.  For what caring parent takes pleasure in his children’s defiance and rebellion only to watch helplessly as they self-destruct.  Of course, it would be easy for God to intervene but He won’t because He’s allowed man the freedom to choose.  However, this would also entail leaving them to follow the consequences of their decisions.  God calls – man ignores, God forewarns – man’s rebellious, Satan entices – man’s seduced (John 8:44), Satan destroys his unsuspecting victim … leaving God to grieve over man’s defiance and self-destruction.  The Prince of Darkness is still chuckling at the outrageous naivety and incoherent optimism of these apostates as he marches forward into battle... 

Alas, the possessed bodies of Satan’s assassins are worse than our informal taxies during peak hour traffic – congested and bustling with incredible energy.  The entire spiritual realm is concealed from the human eye while demons cram into the room until it is dim with hideous, appalling creatures (Rev 12:12).  Satan, and his militia commandeer the assassins who terrorize and injure the frightened, trembling men.  Flashing swords of outnumbered shining beings (called upon by flimsy prayers going out from the Parlour in this eleventh hour) strike out furiously at these hideous demonic mercenaries.   The battleground reverberates with malicious shrieks and swords clashing, whilst another brood of vindictive demons try frantically to confuse their victims minds with terror and turmoil to avert the insufferable last minute repentance or worse still – a revival.  With this perturbing thought in mind they foolishly commandeer their servants to tape the men’s mouths shut.   

Warren rolls around desperately in an attempt to wriggle free from the clutches of a carnal assassin - his spirit pleading hysterically as he feels the blunt carpet knife burrow into the soft flesh of his throat while profanity flies back and forth between these sadists.  A blood curdling scream forces his lips apart causing the duct tape to tear painfully into the fleshy folds of tissue.  The realization that he will never see another day causes his distressed spirit to cry out louder.  After three hours of being bound and gagged his fingers are numb and cold as ropes cut into his wrists and hands, obstructing the blood circulation.   Despite his anguish, his stomach churns in revulsion at the sight of an assassin drenched and glistening in perspiration and blood, sweat pouring from his brow as it clings in beads to his disheveled black hair - a foul reek of body odour and blood stings his nostrils.  There is no indication of mercy within the dark and brooding eyes akin to bottomless abysses mirroring his twisted soul where malevolence and cruelty prevails.  Distressed, Warren looks past the bound and gagged victims, across the room to where a short, thickset armed executioner paces nervously – beneath the ginger thatch, protruding eyes meet his gaze briefly.  For one microsecond this assassin’s expression portrays shame, only to disappear as quickly as it appeared ... engulfed by the wrath and brutality of the night. 

Hopes and dreams shatter as Death ruthlessly conquers its victims.  Destruction tears through the place like a hurricane with Greed hot on his heels…. searching... dousing petrified victims with petrol, stabbing and slitting their throats. Amid the cruelty, abuse and profanity, Fear calls once – twice, forcing Death’s hand… Hidden in the looming shadows, the treacherous Manipulation observes Destruction nervously – audacity deserting her.  Events have run amok … materialism was her inspiration - never mass execution!  She calms down once she remembers Perjury - her redeemer!  Vengeance yawns, settling into a more comfortable position … only a matter of time before she is commissioned … not now but shortly and dozes off, lulled to sleep by the sweet promise of victory!  Hysterically Warren cries out ‘Oh God, I will never see morning.  Today I am surely going to die!’ … his dream of the Angel of Death (Numbers 22:23), the Scripture God gave him in Romans 1: 24-32, God knew all and yet he, Warren continued vehemently denying ever working at a M2M brothel!  Devastated, his spirit cries out feverishly as his terror mounts ... Amidst this turmoil and trauma he becomes aware of a familiar presence - somewhere.   Mom … it’s his mother!  Although there’s no physical manifestation of her being there he is consciously aware of her presence.

“Oh Mom ... help me  ... I am so scared ... Mom, please pray for me!” his tormented spirit cries out!  While he can’t see her he is aware of her warmth ...  embracing him gently in her arms, stroking his head in her lap tenderly like she did when he was a little boy.  The years roll back as he feels her soft touch soothing away his tears while rocking him comfortingly.   In a trembling voice no longer shrill and angry she prays earnestly for her son’s salvation, for his spirit, his safety, and for the blood of Jesus to cover him ... !! His spiritually enervated mother who had been incapacitated by the doldrums of this world heard the frantic calls of her dying son in the deep of the night, as God so chose.  She pleads for her son with such passion and intense fervency while propelling them into a divine realm unbeknown to him.   What both of them are unaware of are the shrieking, hideous demons who, on approaching them spin away violently, diving for cover at the mere name of Jesus. 

His tears subside and helplessly he shuts his eyes while listening to her softly crooning “What a Friend we have in Jesus...”  It is not her customary off-key pitch, but a sweet, harmonious tone reverberating through the heavens in unison with choirs of angels as they descend in multitudes around him.  “God forbid if this is heaven and I’ve died without repenting first” he panics frantically while blinking and squinting at the magnificent sight before him, his quaking spirit unable to process the incredible beauty.   However, once the flurrying of their wings subside with concern lulling shock, is he able to absorb the entire awe-inspiring revelation of their opalesce magnificence and imperial splendour.  Apparel long and flowing, their pinions reaching great magnitudes, while their immeasurable statuesque is unrestricted by the physical realm, a hallowed aura exuding an intense agape … love so sanctified that it seems to absorb the horror of the malice around them.  Surely their shimmering opalescence and resplendence is a manifestation of a greater God in all His Glory.

With a heavy heart Warren rolls over onto his stomach leaning his flushed face against the coolness of the floor, sobs of shame and regret racking his body.  For the first time he cries overtly, not for his own demise but tears for all those families affected by his selfishness and immorality (Romans 1:24-32) resulting in their crying out in anguish to their grieving Father. How on earth did he get drawn into something this corrupt … this wicked?  He prays for those he hurt, and the victims gagged and bound helplessly alongside him - pending execution.  He cries out for forgiveness. His burning, passionate plea floods the throne room, reaching his anguished Father’s ears even as archangels and seraphs raise their trumpets.  Heavens shudder with the loud rejoicing and elation of celestial beings as Warren and a small number of collaborators names are written, within the eleventh hour, in the Lamb’s Book of Life.  In the meanwhile their loving Father bends His silvery head, covering His face with unsteady hands, powerful shoulders heaving with emotion, tears flowing freely through the burly fingers.  They are the tears of a loving, caring Shepherd Who relentlessly scouted lofty mountains, crags and briers for signs of His lost sheep.  Then when He found them, elated He brought them back … promising Himself never to let them wander off again. (Matthew 18:10-14) (John 10:1-30)

Warren’s mother’s presence wanes as an extraordinary glow fills the room creating a stir within him but it is his bound hands that prevent him from rolling onto his back – instead he twists onto his side and catches his breath as, out of the menacing, looming shadow of death the most magnificent figure imaginable emerges, emitting a radiance.  His face shines like the sun, and his clothes are like daylight (Psalm 104:1, Habakkuk 3:4).  “Don’t be afraid, Warren.  Our Father says it’s time for you to come home now, boy.  He’s concerned about you being out in the dark” (1Peter 5:8-9) whispers a voice as gentle as the wings of a dove.  As Warren squints in the bright light - the screaming, profane threats and gun blasts are ultimately absorbed by Jesus’ Presence.  “Jesus … God, forgive me … forgive me my terrible sins.  Don’t let me die like this!  Oh God, help me” (2 Cor 6:2). 

Moved by Warren’s anguish, Jesus crouches beside him and extends a pierced hand  comfortingly.  Tears fill His eyes for Warren’s fear is a reminder of His own two thousand years ago while being nailed to an old splintered tree erected on a hill … The most widely discussed event of all History! His strangled cry of horrendous pain tore through the air while wooden nails were being hammered into His limbs.  Flesh and bone ripped as His body sagged with the agonizing floggings and weight as the hours dragged by.  The greedy flies that settled on warm, sticky blood that trickled into His eyes from His bleeding brow ... Not even that could block out the sight of horror in his own beloved mother’s eyes while she sobbed agonizingly.  Even less could His excruciating pain and humiliation erase his sadness as those He loved mocked, jeered and spat on Him.  The pungent fumes of vinegar pushed under His nose.  All His tortured body craved was water in the scorching sun – His tongue felt shriveled and glued to his palette (Matthew 26-28) … Shuddering at the horror of the memory, while looking down at His young charge He murmurs “It was worth it”.  The words He had repeated countless times.  By Him being crucified He overcame sin and conquered death so that all those who believe in Him may have everlasting life! (John 3:16) “Today,” Jesus whispers as gentle as the heartbeat of a dove , “You will meet me in Paradise” (Luke 23:43). 

Placing a compassionate hand on Warren’s head He continues comfortingly, “Warren, fear not for Our Father has heard your plea, and has summoned me to fetch you home.  He has forgiven you and washed you clean with the blood of the Lamb.  God will undo Satan’s wickedness and use it for the good of His children.”  (Romans 16:20). 

Jerking back his head, he observes for the first time the gaping punctures in Jesus’ hands.  Oh God, it's not a merely a parable  ... Jesus is not just a legend ... He's real!  He recalls over the years how his Granny shared Bible stories with them, pointing out animated pictures with long, tapered fingers – her blue eyes shining with passionate devotion for her Father.  Ashamed, he closes his tear-filled eyes and lowers his head in humility, taking a deep breath.  Seconds later he slowly looks up into Jesus’ radiant face, green eyes wide and tranquil.  He wants to ask about his Gran but there’s no time now … later.  For now he smiles gently “If my Father has forgiven me then I am ready to go home” (Romans 8:38-39).  The terror Warren once experienced disappears, and in its place is an unanswerable yearning to be with his Father …

“NO!! NO!! NO!!  STOP!!! STOP!!” shrieks Satan fuming, and foaming at the mouth in his feeble attempts to prevent this execution for once again his plans are about to be foiled by the Son of God.  Let it be known, people are more useful to Satan while living in sin.  For them to die converted, their sins atoned – and “washed away by the blood of the Lamb” defuses all his diabolical plans and strategies... usurping him of all his authority, leaving him and his servants totally defeated! However, not even the Prince of Darkness is able to defy the laws of nature, nor delay the high velocity of the slug blazing through the midnight air as it pierces Warren’s cranium, exploding in excruciating pain for one fraction of a second … Without realising the transformation, Warren's body slumps as his spirit is released (Luke 24:39).  It is then that he flies, without thinking, into the outstretched arms of the Son of Man, the excited expression on his face glowing with the radiance of Jesus’ love, forgiveness, and mercy.   

It’s the Presence of Jesus walking with the new convert between His army, and Satan’s seething rage that sends hideous, screeching demons diving for cover!  With sudden realization, Warren gasps at the sight of his own motionless, bullet riddled form on the ground at his feet, surrounded by angels (James 2:26).  In another part of the room demons laud each other as bodies shatter, whilst hordes of evil spirits shriek in rage and hatred.  All this while multitudes of angels gather around Warren and several new converts (2 Corinthians 5:1-4).  Jesus waves away the demonic militia rebuking them sternly, causing the demonic forces to hastily recoil away from a relieved Warren who says “Oh my Lord, what have I done!  What about my Mom?  This will destroy her!  I know that You allowed her to be with me in spirit, comforting me in my final moments.  I also realise that in actual fact she’s not truly aware of my passing on, since her mind cannot possibly discern nor comprehend what her spirit perceives”

Jesus puts His hand lightly on His charge’s arm and replies “That’s being taken care of Warren.  God will use the bad, for the good of His people.  As we speak My Father is sending His angels out to comfort her when she hears of your passing.”

“Jesus, forgive me for doubting but I know my Mom.  She’s going to be so distraught that she might not even hear them.  Please give her a sign that I am with You.  I have to see my family again ... I need to be reunited with them!”. 

Jesus nods thoughtfully and later as the fading, ‘unidentified’ form of a young victim of the Sizzler Massacre is hurried into Grootte Schuur Hospital, they strap an identification bracelet to his wrist … naming him “Peter”!  Peter the disciple, and “fisher of men” who was used greatly to bring glory to the Kingdom of God.  Peter the disciple who, as he walked towards Jesus on the waters of a violent storm, started sinking as he lost faith (and focus) in his Lord (Matthew 14:27-31).  So if an infant, christened Warren Visser on entering this world twenty-two years ago, and renamed Peter upon leaving couldn’t, through drowning in the transgressions of this world (Mark 4:15), bring to the Lord the unsaved as God intended … then the memory of ‘Peter’ will direct countless masses to the Kingdom of God.  By now God's plan was in progress, as regrettably too much time had been wasted already.  

Meanwhile, a goliath angel hovers protectively around the body of young Warren alias “Peter” while it functions … lest its inhabitant should request to go back to this world shrouded with evil.  Eventually through lack of interest, his heart is brought to a final standstill ...   

Gasping in awe, Warren twists around to witness the splendour around him … how could return after all he has seen.  It’s at that moment that he realizes that looming shadows have been transformed into shimmering heavens. The overwhelming splendour exceeds all artistic imagination.  He catches his breath at the multitudes of regal, joyful beings blowing trumpets whilst rejoicing.   Oh, if only Mom, Michael and Leigh-Ann (Luke 16:25) could see this – if only he could tell them about it but that would mean he would have to return and there was no ways that he was going to leave this majestic, spiritual realm.  What total harmony and tranquility ... the whole realm seems to be bathed in love so pure and righteous (2 Cor. 5:6-8 RV, Phil. 1:23). Besides, he thought smilingly to himself, nobody would ever believe him!  Stretching his arms out in front of him, he pulls excitedly at new and shining garments (2 Cor. 5:1-8, Phil. 1:23; Luke 23:43), his flushed face reflecting a greater glory.  Number 7 Graham Street, shrouded with a menacing evil disappears along with his fear of heights as they soar higher and higher to an unfamiliar plane ...

It is then that over all the houses and hills Jesus extends a hand indicating his Mom curled up in a fetal position whilst her groaning spirit is deeply distressed and restless.  He can see her agonizing over his wellbeing, realizing for the first time how much she truly loves him.   

“Mommy”, he calls out excitedly trying to interrupt her tormented, and distressed thoughts.  “Mommy” he calls again calmly and peacefully this time.  As if by miracle she leaps to her feet, running expectantly to the window.  “Warren” she calls out in answer … calling repeatedly, and finally crestfallen stands quietly in the still of the night staring hopefully out into its bleakness … awaiting the answering call of her son.  How he longs to bid her farewell, and ask her forgiveness.  If only he can reassure her of his safety, or share with her all that he has seen - and that he’s on his way home!  Yet he has this urge to keep progressing homewards.  He knows she’ll understand and watches in awe when at that moment giant celestial beings congregate around her protectively.  As they reach out and touch her shoulder soothingly her agonizing spirit is instantly comforted.  For a brief moment as she stares up into the twinkling sky, mother and son are united in the celestial realm - caught up in a moment of divine peace, and unconditional love both realizing that “neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate (*the bond between mother and child) or * anyone from the love of God, that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8 :38-39).  Contented, he continues with Jesus to cross homewards.   

Yelping in surprise he jumps back as heavy bullion gates swing open without celestial or mechanical intervention, revealing choirs of angels euphonious trills of silver singing.  Surging with excitement he breaks into a run, tearing over luscious green pastures - his feet barely touching ground.  He runs past sparkling streams, succulent fruit trees, cascading waterfalls, and up grassy slopes.  How delightfully light and airborne he feels … 

“I’m home Father … everyone.  It’s me, Warren - I’m home!” he yells enthusiastically while saluting a smiling Joseph, bounding past Moses and into his Granny’s outstretched arms.  His beloved grandmother – her eyes bright, shimmering with excitement and tears as she gathers him closely to her while his young Uncles and cousins commune excitedly in the throne room.  Oh, what a joyful gathering as they weep tears of joy at seeing him, his heart swelling with happiness and love.  Over his Gran’s shoulder his eyes linger briefly on the backdrop for in the distance he sees worn footpaths leading through lush meadows to enormous mansions, cherubims plucking nimbly at harp strings, little ones playfully splashing around in sparkling streams flowing through the valley, while others stroll serenely through scenic gardens.  The entire setting is gilded in a deep ochre hue with iridescent undertones. Hesitantly and with wet, tear-stained cheeks, Warren draws nigh to the throne of the Great God of All Ages where soprano tones reverberate harmoniously, filling the air with golden halcyon song.  

The love … this love is like nothing he has ever experienced ... so pure, powerful and righteous as it wells up within him, spilling over into melodic worship and adoration for the King of all kings!  His heart leaps excitedly as he raises his face upwards, tears flowing freely.  He’d heard so much about his Father but there are no befitting words to bring justice to our Lord in all His splendour, as He sits majestically on His throne surrounded by a sea of faces ... His precious children.  At Warren's hesitation his overjoyed Father, El Shaddai, raises Himself out of the high-backed chair and crosses the floor to embrace His trembling son, calling  “Quick! Bring the best robe and put it on my son, and let’s have a feast and celebrate.  For this son of Mine was dead and is alive again, he was lost but now is found.”  (Luke 15:11-31). The throne room resounds with the merriment of His jovial laughter.  The love and joy that radiates from His glorious countenance is totally indescribable and completely overwhelming ...   

It is then that the truth dawns on him how fleeting the physical realm actually is, and how much importance he foolishly placed on it!   Materialism and folly is man’s demise. Especially when few realise that the physical realm is merely a trial period for God to separate His sheep from the goats when it comes to deciding who should spend eternity with Him.  Life is one split second of eternity … If God hadn’t awoken prayer warriors to intercede for him … he breaks off, shuddering (Matthew 8:12). Dropping to his knees in absolute mortification, he buries his flushed face in his hands.  There is a short silence, followed by a soft footfall before a gentle hand stills his trembling form, lifting him gently to his feet.  His Father’s tone is gruff with emotion and affection as He whispers “Don’t be frightened My precious child.  We have waited so long for this moment but now that you are here, just know that you have been pardoned for it was My Son Who died for your sins so that you may be forgiven” (John 3:16).  Reprieved, Warren is lost in his Father’s embrace, his body shaking with tearful emotion while God rocks His beloved child soothingly, gently wiping away his tears (Rev 21:4).   Oh, how the heavens reverberate and tremble with the harmonious rejoicing of multitudes of heavenly hosts at Warren’s homecoming - and the union of Father and son (Luke 15:11-31).