Walter H. Beuttler

Walter H. Beuttler

Born in Germany in 1904, Walter Beuttler immigrated to the United States in 1925. Shortly after immigrating he came to the Lord in New York City after entering and attending Glad Tidings, Brother & Sister Brown's church. Graduating from Central Bible Institute in 1931 he entered several pastorates. He was invited to join the faculty of Eastern Bible Institute in GreenLane, PA. in 1939 by Brother Allan Swift and served until 1972. In 1951 God called him to "go and teach all nations."

From: Manifestations of the Spirit

I went to Bible school in 1927. I told you that. I was new in this thing. I knew God wanted me there, and then I met with what I thought was a great misfortune. The school had a matron, and the matron put me on the duty of washing dishes. Of all things: washing dishes! I didn’t like to wash dishes. I didn’t believe in it. Oh, I like to eat on clean dishes, but I didn’t believe that I should be the one to make them clean.

I told the matron, “Miss Sunder, I’m not washing dishes.”

She said, “What!”

I repeated, “I’m not washing dishes.”

She said, “How is that?”

I answered, “I’m a German.”

“What’s that got to do with it?”

“German men don’t wash dishes. That’s a woman’s job. They don’t wash dishes anymore than they would shine their shoes. That’s the wife’s job, or the daughters of the house, not the man. I’m not washing dishes. That’s an insult to my manhood, to my dignity.”

Ooh! You should have seen her eyes. She said, “Walter, you’re going to wash dishes until you like it.”

Well, I could read her face. What I saw made me say within myself, “I think I would be well advised not to say anymore.”
So I didn’t, but I could think what I liked. That’s what I did. What did I think? “Like fun, I will wash dishes!” I was angry. I stamped back to my room and said to myself, “If I’m in a Bible school that believes men should wash dishes, I’m in the wrong school. And if I’m in a religion that believes men should wash dishes, I’m in the wrong religion, and I’m going to quit both the school and Pentecost.” I was angry like a real German blowing his top.

Incidentally, I have changed. Ask Wife back there. Bible school does a lot of things for you that you didn’t figure on.
I packed my cases and walked out of the school in a huff. I was through with Pentecost, once and for all. I meant it. But I knew in a certain city nearby there was going on what they called an All-Day Meeting, the last Friday of the month. This was the last Friday. I’m a little sentimentalist in many ways, and I thought, “I’ll go once more to a Pentecostal meeting, my last one, just by way of sort of saying, goodbye.” So I went.
My suitcases stood out in the hall. The church was in a house, a small group. I sat in front of the preacher in the third row, rebellious in my heart. “But after this meeting, I’ll pack my cases and I’ll go.” Where to I didn’t know, but I wanted to go.

That man came out with an utterance of the Spirit that cut me to the heart. You’ve never heard anything like it. I didn’t in all these years. Nobody knew a thing about the condition I was in. This pastor was a very nice, smooth, very kind Englishman, fine man. I never heard him rough anybody up. He always was so congenial, not this time.
I heard him thunder in the Spirit, “Rebellious man!” And he shouted on top of his voice, “Rebellious man!” And the Lord cut me. In fact, I slumped down between the seats. It was as though a knife had pierced me, and that man came out with my rebelliousness against the will of the Lord. And then he added, “Submit thyself unto the mighty hand of God,” and I realized for the first time that the matron’s hand was the hand of God on me - and a woman’s hand at that! A woman’s hand was God’s hand! Whew! That was hard for a German to swallow.

The tone changed and he said, “And then the Lord will do thus and so.” There was a wonderful promise what God would do if I would submit myself and return to the will of the Lord. I knew what it meant, “Go back to Bible school.”

“Thus shall the secret of his heart be made manifest.” God manifested to me the reality of my rebellious spirit, my great need of submission.

I stayed for the evening service. After the service, I went back to school, but I got there after 10:00. At 10:00 o’clock they lock the doors. The matron’s apartment was right next to the door. She would be the first to open the door. Of all people, she was the last one I wanted to see, so I stood there wondering what to do.

I wondered what I should say. I could hear her already, “Well young man, and where do you come from? Come right in my room. I have some questions to ask you.” I could hear her already, and I was a little scared, really.
I thought, “I’m going to try the door.” Hallelujah, Glory! The door wasn’t locked. Somebody forgot to lock it, or didn’t lock it. I went in stealthily up to my room No. 11, put my things back in the dresser, went to bed, got up, showed up in the kitchen the next morning - washing dishes.

A strange thing happened here. I do not understand it. Nobody asked me where I was. I was gone all day. Nobody asked. The teachers didn’t say, “Why weren’t you in class?” I do not understand it. The matron didn’t say, “Why didn’t you wash dishes yesterday?” Nobody said a word about my absence. I’m puzzled, but I was smart enough not to ask any questions. So I thought, “Well, I didn’t say goodbye, why say hello, and give myself away.”
I washed dishes for four more weeks. The matron came and said, “Walter, I’m now changing your duty. You have washed dishes long enough.”

I said, “Miss Sunder, don’t change my duty. I like to wash dishes.” She was right.
She had said, “You’ll wash dishes until you like them.” But it took a prophetic utterance in the Holy Ghost to expose my awesome rebelliousness to myself and bring me back into the center of the will of God. “Thus are the secrets of his heart made manifest; and so falling down on his face he will worship God, and report that God is in you of a truth.”

You know as a young fellow in the Lord, quite newly saved, I had a hobby. My hobby was turtles, little green turtles. I suppose you have them in New Zealand. I thought they were the cutest things that God ever made. I had never seen them in Germany. In NewYork or thereabouts, you could get them for a dime a piece. I had them in an aquarium. You know those things so captivated me; they so captivated me that they interfered with my devotions. Can you beat that? Turtles interfered with my devotions. (Now this is foolish, but we’re capable of it.)

I had read that you have to let them exercise or their legs would swell. So while I had my prayers, I took them out of the aquarium and let them walk on the floor. I could hear them while they were walking. I didn’t hear them walk, and decided I must look for them somewhere. I’d find them stuck under the bed, or someplace where they crawled and couldn’t get out. So I had to crawl over, under and get them out, and let them walk the other way, and go back to my prayers. Isn’t that silly? And the Lord wouldn’t put up with that kind of stuff, and you can’t blame Him. I don’t.
Finally the Lord dealt with me, severely in the Spirit, to get rid of these things. So I got rid of the turtles, but the aquarium (which cost a few dollars) I did not get rid of. I put it up on the shelf in my closet just in case I wanted to change my mind. Then I’d already have the aquarium, and the turtles you get at Woolworth’s for a dime. So I had this all nicely fixed, and the Lord took notice.

That evening I went to church, and this same pastor, Swift, a great man of God was speaking that night giving a Bible study. I owe him a lot in my own ministry. In his study, his teaching, he came to a place and he said, “Now then, when God asks you to get rid of something, get rid of it, don’t put it up on a shelf.” I was dumbfounded. I knew right away. “Thus are the secrets of his heart made manifest.”

God got to my heart, and I said to Brother Swift after the service, “Brother Swift, what made you say that?”
He said, “I don’t know. It just came along and I said it.”

Well, I didn’t tell him what was up, but I knew what was up: I had to get rid of that aquarium.