Called to serve Hispanics - Venezuelan finds his spiritual place bringing the Gospel to Hispanics at a Stafford County church.

www.fredericksburg.com By BRIAN BAER FREDERICKSBURG.COM

Jose Dávila paces a spacious stage, shouts rhythmically into an oversized microphone and, in an instant, takes command of the 300-seat room he stands before.

At times--when the Lord overwhelms him--Dávila bounces on his toes and his stout frame leaves the ground in dramatic bursts.

"Hallelujah!" he shouts. "Hallelujah! Hallelujah!"

The word, one of the few understood by many present, echoes back at him.

Dávila's deep voice thunders up the aisles, into a foyer and, quite possibly, across the Strong Tower Ministries parking lot in southern Stafford County.

And then, suddenly, Dávila is still.

He's whispering now, eyes closed, left hand lifted toward the sky.

Before him, in long rows of interlocked folding chairs, dozens of followers watch the small man in the fancy dark suit, crisp white shirt and heavy black glasses.

Many have now opened their raised arms--the better to allow Jesus Christ into their prayer.

The unity service of both English- and Spanish-speakers is a prelude to the Rev. Jose Dávila's first all-Spanish worship planned for tomorrow at 4 p.m. Strong Tower plans to continue a service in Spanish the same time every Saturday afternoon.

On this night, halfway through Dávila's message, 14 Hispanics file in the back door and take seats a few rows from stage left.

Dávila is caught up in his sermon on "unity in the body of Christ" and doesn't notice the latecomers.

But he knew they would be there.

Just as he knew that he, a 43-year-old man from Venezuela, would be there, too.

God told him so.

Jose Dávila's story is one of God and Gospel, preaching and saving, family and faith.

But to stop there would sell short the journey that has brought him to this country, to this church, to this day.

Jose Dávila and his wife, Beatriz, both earned master's degrees in Venezuela; his in human resources, hers in occupational therapy.

Married in 1985, the two lived a good life--high-powered jobs, a nice home and busy social lives.

Dávila, an HR director for a large hospital, also had a few guilty pleasures.

He bet the horses, enjoyed a few drinks and loved to dance into the night at Caracas discos.

Raised a Catholic, he had many times resisted his father-in-law's invitation to visit an evangelical church. One Sunday 13 years ago, Dávila gave in.

The decision changed his life.

Dávila said God called out to him that morning, and he responded by accepting Jesus on the spot--in front of 3,000 parishioners.

Dávila dove into his new faith, completing three years of evangelical training in Venezuela.

In 1993, Dávila said God spoke to him again.

Go to America, he said the voice told him, and preach the Gospel to Hispanics in that country.

Two years later, an American company visited Venezuela in search of occupational therapists to work in the United States.

Beatriz Dávila was offered a job, her husband a new life.

Both quickly accepted.

"This is the answer," Jose Dávila thought.

The family--the Dávilas now had an 8-year-old daughter, Joysbeth--arrived in Miami where federal agents went so far as to pull apart the child's baby dolls looking for drugs.

Welcome to America, the family thought.

The Dávilas landed in Washington a few hours later, and the late-November cold drove Jose Dávila back into the National Airport terminal. His wife had to coax him back outside.

While Beatriz Dávila moved on to her job, her husband had nowhere to go. Unlike his wife, he had no work visa, spoke little English and knew no one.

Just months earlier, he was an executive, a corporate problem-solver with his own office.

Now a Burger King clerk was snapping at Dávila because he couldn't explain what kind of burger he wanted.

Dávila passed the time at home washing clothes, cooking meals and watching after his young daughter.

He picked up part-time work throwing Mary Kay makeup parties in the family's apartment. His wife translated his sales pitch.

He sold Oriental rugs and worked in a plant nursery, watering, spraying and moving greenery.

At one point, he collected glass bottles outside a high-school football stadium.

"God was humbling me," he said.

Today, Dávila drives a forklift for McLane Mid-Atlantic, a grocery distributor in Stafford County. He's often on his feet more than eight hours a day, pushing bottled water, Gatorade and other goods around a warehouse.

But he's found a sense of belonging.

He's earned a reputation as a champion pingpong player and will test his skills in a company tournament later this month.

For years, the family moved from one apartment to the next. They now live comfortably in an upper-middle class home in Stafford Lakes with their poodle, Spunky, and their new bird, Elvis.

After eight years, America has become a part of them.

Joysbeth, now a junior at Stafford High, makes fun of her dad's passion for Harrison Ford movies, especially "Air Force One."

Dávila also confesses a weakness for Macy's at the Pentagon City Mall and has a soft spot for country music star George Strait.

For her part, Joysbeth prefers rappers DMX and Ja Rule.

Although his English is still limited, Dávila now moves easily among local restaurants.

His favorites include the Olive Garden, Red Lobster, Formosa, the Golden Corral and, a new find, the Paradise Diner on U.S. 17 in Falmouth.

The family still visits Venezuela for holidays and other special occasions, but Dávila no longer has the urge to stay there.

In an interview in his living room, he said, "This is home now."

The Dávilas have attended nine churches in America and have settled into this one.

Beatriz and Jose Dávila's sister, Joise Salgado, spotted Strong Tower Ministries when it was still a storefront church in the Lee's Plaza Shopping Center next to Hard Times Cafe.

They stopped in for a couple of services, and the family quickly found comfort.

Strong Tower now occupies a cavernous new building off Ferry Road, complete with a praise rock band, state-of-the-art sound system and huge screens for worship services.

A couple of parishioners work a sound board in the back of the sanctuary.

The computers are broken on this Sunday night, so the Spanish Jose Dávila speaks doesn't show up for people to sing or follow along with.

But Salgado, his sister, is on stage translating his message for the dozens of English-speakers who also have turned out for this unity service. The Rev. Kevin Mihlfeld, pastor of the church, calls it Torre Fuerte, which means Strong Tower in Spanish.

Along with the 14 Hispanics who arrive late, about 20 others are scattered about the room. Before the night ends, Dávila will hug each one.

But for now, he is talking, preaching, singing.

The title for his first praise song, "This is the Day," says as much as the lyrics.

The sanctuary is filled with applause, "Hallelujahs" and Hispanics rejoicing in the message of a Venezuelan man who gave up everything for this very moment.

For more information on services in Spanish at Strong Tower Ministries, call 374-1588 or on the Web at strongtowerministries .com/torrefuerte.html.

Date published: 3/7/2003