En route to Israel, Eric and I had a long 11-hour layover in London … ON PURPOSE. I want to share about some of the encounters from that cold and rainy day.  Simply put, we took the train from Heathrow into downtown, walked about an 8-mile circuit that started near the site of the Smithfield burnings during the time of Bloody Mary. Many saints were burned at the stake for their allegiance to the Word of God at this spot. There are no markers or commemorative plaques, but “God is not unrighteous to forget” (Hebrews 6:10). We thought to preach here, but it was raining and very few were out and about. Thus, we navigated some residential alleys, giving out a few Gospel tracts here and there. One man was hanging out his window, doing what the Lord only knows. I handed him a tract. There were a couple of guys living in tents under a bridge. We asked if they would take some Gospel material, and they replied, “With pleasure.” We got pretty wet crossing the Blackfriar Bridge on foot in the rain and found shelter at a coffee shop. A big black man behind the counter took a Gospel tract and thanked us for taking the time to leave the airport and walk the streets of his city.

From there, we trudged south and ended up at the Metropolitan Tabernacle, a Baptist Church that started in 1650 and moved to the present site in 1859 while Charles Spurgeon was its pastor. Spurgeon preached many a sermon at this spot, and many that you can read today were transcribed in this place. The front part of the building is all that survived the German bombings in WWII. Everything looked closed, but upon ringing a bell at the back and explaining ourselves to be two Baptist missionaries on a long layover who simply wanted to see the church where Spurgeon preached, James, a relatively new believer, gave us entrance. He took us into the sanctuary, and Eric bought a couple of books in the book shop. We encouraged James in his Christian walk, and he was very blessed. His parents came from Jamaica, and he was born in London. Despite a Christian upbringing, he dove into the world and walked away from the things of the Lord. Not long ago, he was converted and biblically baptized. Since, he has been working in the bookshop. We exhorted him that Jesus is returning soon and that we must faithfully occupy until He does. It was a blessing to uplift a brother in the very place where a true prince of preachers once uplifted many and continues to do so far beyond the grave.

From Spurgeon’s church, we slogged up to the Westminster Bridge and tracted a few of the tourists taking pictures with Big Ben. I thought I would be able to give out some Nepali Gospels of John, but a group of four men looked at me quizzically when I spoke Nepali to them. They were from the Philippines, so I gave them English tracts. Later, I spoke Nepali to a man working in the train station. He said he understood but then confessed he was Indian and could not read the Nepali when I offered him the Scriptures. I was a bit bummed because the last time I was in London (about 16 years ago), I overheard lots of Nepali on the trains and even gave out a few copies of the Nepali Scriptures. This time, I went prepared with material but found no one.

We tracted a few folks in the Westminster area and then walked slap dab into the middle of a very antisemitic “Free Palestine” protest that involved a line of people wrapped all the way around the Parliament building. There were yellow-vested cops everywhere and “Palestinian” flags everywhere. They were chanting “From the River to the Sea” (i.e. Death to all Jews in Israel). Eric and I stopped in the midst of that mess just to observe. I knew if I started preaching, I would either be arrested or mobbed to death. One woman offered us a flag. We politely refused, and if looks could kill, our death would have been quick and painless. Later, I noticed a group of white Jewish women with t-shirts that read “Jews Against the War in Gaza.” It was strange seeing such folks yoked up with a mob literally chanting for the death of Jews. I just shook my head, approached, and quietly said to one of them: “The Messiah is the only one who can fix all this mess and end these wars. Oh how we need the Messiah.” She glared and responded, “Are you talking about the Messiah?” I said, “I certainly am.” She then quipped rudely, “He ain’t c’oming.” I left her with these words: “Oh yes, He most certainly is; and His name is Jesus the Christ.”

I read later that this mob projected “From the River to the Sea” on Big Ben. A Jewish MP correctly described this the next day in the House of Commons: “Last night, a genocidal call of ‘From the river to the sea, Palestine will be free’ was projected onto this building. That message says no Jew is welcome in the State of Israel or in that land. This is going to continue happening because we’re not dealing with it.” Very, very sad. We are living in dark days, day foretold long ago. Notwithstanding, the future is Christ the King.

At Paddington, we gave out a few more Gospel tracts, nabbed a shower for about $9, and enjoyed a classic fish-and-chips in a low-lit pub near the train station.” I had some British pounds in my possession I had acquired while walking these streets many years ago, and I just wanted to get rid of them. We had no need for cash this particular day as everything seemed to be cashless and touchless. I asked the LORD for an opportunity to bless someone with these, someone who would know how to use them. Back in 2008, what I had was worth about $40. Today, it translates to about half that in dollars. I knew once we entered the underground subway, the opportunity would be lost. We milled around searching for someone in need. Before dinner, I had noticed a man seated on the sidewalk with a cup in front of him. He was staring downward. I thought to give those pounds to him, along with a Bible, AFTER we grabbed a bite to eat. I got a lesson from the Lord in Galatian 6:10: “As we therefore have opportunity,” means don’t delay, even for an hour. When we exited the pub the man was gone. Bummed, I asked the LORD for another opportunity. As we approached the stairs down into the tubes, I gave up. Then, I heard Eric say, “Hey Jesse, there is someone over there.” I turned and saw a disheveled man seated with his back against the wall and his hat turned upside down and lying upon the ground in front of him. Someone had dropped a single coin in there. I walked up to Daryl and said, “Sir, the Lord wants me to give you everything I have in my pocket. I then dumped a handful of British Pounds into that hat. His expression … “Whoah.” I continued, “But I also have something of far more value and far more important than money.” I handed him a Bible with a leather cover. A big smile came across his face, and he thanked me profusely, claiming that he needed a Bible. I put my arm around him, exhorted him in the things of the Lord for a moment, and then told him I had to catch a flight. As I descended into the tubes, my pockets were much lighter, and I thanked the LORD. I’ve had those pounds for more than a decade and was glad to be free of them.

Back at the airport, both Eric and I were much interrogated by El Al security. They simply couldn’t wrap their heads around why we would want to travel to Israel in the middle of a war. The female security officer asked me, “Are you not afraid?” I simply said, “No.” They asked us many questions and then took everything out of our carry-on luggage, searching every nook and cranny. I felt sure the Hebrew Gospel tracts and Bibles would be a problem. Finally, they finished their searching and put everything back in those bags. They said nothing more, other than “Ok, you are free to go. Have a nice flight.” Praise God. During this process, a Jewish man approached and simply said, “Thank you for what you are doing. I know you are going to Israel at this time, and it just makes me so happy. Thank you for caring about us and our country.” Eric and I were the only Gentiles on that flight, and there were many orthodox passengers. One couple was so upset that they could not sit together. Eric offered to give up his seat for them, and she replied: “Oh, thank you, thank you. God will repay you.” I interjected, “The Lord won’t ’repay’ us. He has already PAID for us Himself.” I was seated with two young orthodox boys. They were perplexed when I pulled out a Bible and started reading during the flight. They kept looking my way, and I could tell their wheels were turning. In Israel, it is against the law to attempt to “proselytize” minors. I’ll do it anyway, but it is risky. With the parents seated behind me, I figured the wise thing was simply to let the open Bible be a quiet witness as the plane engines droned through those dark night hours.

It had been a long day, and I didn’t know where we would find the strength to deal with immigration in Tel Aviv, pick up the rental car, and drive the hour to our apartment at the edge of Jerusalem. But, the Lord carried us through. All came to pass without a hitch.

I love long layovers. They are great opportunities for the Gospel, and I’ve had a few over the years …. Istanbul, Frankfurt, Munich, Dubai, Seoul, Tokyo, Mumbai, Buenos Aires, Santiago, Montreal, and now twice in London. One of this day’s first encounters took place shortly after we exited immigration into the terminal. At a bag storage booth, a young man with a kipa approached, and he asked if we were going to Israel. Daniel took a Hebrew Gospel tract and thanked us for coming to his country in a time of war. At that moment, we knew it was a great time to visit Israel, not for ourselves, but for the glorious Gospel of the blessed God which was committed to our trust (I Timothy 1:11).

As we have therefore opportunity, let us do good unto all men, especially unto them who are of the household of faith” (Galatians 6:10).

Jesse Boyd, Full Proof Gospel Ministries