The Wall That Melted Like Wax

In the autumn of 1989, Pastor Christian Fuhrer opened the doors of St. Nicholas Church in Leipzig, East Germany, as he had every Monday evening for six years. What began in 1982 as a small prayer gathering for peace had swelled to thousands. The German Democratic Republic — a regime that declared God dead and demanded absolute allegiance to the state — watched nervously.

On October 9, 1989, seventy thousand people poured into the streets of Leipzig after the Monday prayer service, carrying candles. The government had stationed troops and prepared hospitals for a massacre. But the soldiers never fired. One Communist official later admitted, "We were prepared for everything — except candles and prayers."

Within a month, the Berlin Wall fell. A concrete barrier that had stood for twenty-eight years, guarded by armed towers and razor wire, crumbled not before tanks but before the quiet persistence of people who gathered to pray.

The psalmist knew this pattern long before Leipzig. "The Lord reigns," Psalm 97 declares. "The mountains melt like wax before the Lord of all the earth." Every regime that sets itself up as ultimate — every ideology that demands the worship belonging only to the Almighty — will eventually buckle. Righteousness and justice are the foundation of His throne, and no wall built on injustice can stand forever.

When the candles flickered through the streets of Leipzig, light was dawning for the righteous. The Most High was doing what He has always done — toppling idols and making the earth rejoice.