Memorial Day, 2019

     To many, Memorial Day is the unofficial beginning of summer.  The three day Memorial Holiday is a time of relaxation with family gatherings, barbecue on the grill, civic parades and celebrations, and, if one is a race fan…the running of the Indianapolis 500, which has been run during every Memorial Day weekend since 1911 with the exception of the WWII years.

     West Berlin, 1965               My dad, R.L. Downing, 1945

    However, the true purpose of Memorial Day is much more somber.  It is a day and a moment in which a grateful nation pauses to remember the men and women who have died while serving in the U.S. military defending our country against those who would do us harm.  The holiday is not to be confused with Veterans’ Day in November which is meant to honor all military personnel, both living and dead.  On Memorial Day, we give special honor to those who have paid the supreme sacrifice that we may enjoy the freedoms we hold dear today.  There was a time when churches across the land on the Sunday before Memorial Day paid special homage to our fallen heroes with songs of patriotism and pledges to the flag; this year at my church there was barely a mention of the day of remembrance.  Commitment and sacrifice to our country are foreign concepts to those who have never been called to serve.

   Memorial Day began as Decoration Day in 1868 after the American Civil War.  It was first commemorated at Arlington National Cemetery when 5,000 volunteers decorated the graves of 20,000 Union and Confederate soldiers who are buried there.  At that time, the nation was still reeling from the effects of four years of civil war, which to this day is the most devastating war in our history.  There were more casualties in the Civil War than in all other wars the U.S. has fought from that time to the present, and tragically, in many instances, it was brother against brother.  Of the 1.1 million casualties the U.S. has suffered since 1862, 600,000 were lost in the Civil War alone.

As the twentieth century wars took their toll with World War I and World War II, the Korean Conflict, the Vietnam War, and now our present struggle against terrorism, Memorial Day, as it has come to be known, has evolved into our honoring all military personnel who have died while in service of their country.

     For the first 100 years, Memorial Day was observed on May 30, but in 1968 Congress changed the date to the last Monday in May to allow the public to enjoy a three-day holiday.  Many states resisted changing the date at the time because they felt it would undermine the meaning of the day, and time has proven that the three day holiday has contributed to the public’s somewhat nonchalant observance the day’s purpose.

     There are still some traditional observances which occur on Memorial Day.

(1)            At most military cemeteries and federal office buildings on Memorial Day, the flag of the United States is briskly raised to its topmost position on the flagpole, then slowly and solemnly lowered to the half-staff position only until noon, at which time it is again raised to full staff the remainder of the day.  The half-staff position is to honor the more than one million heroes who have given their lives in service to their country.  At noon, the flag is raised to honor the living who have resolved not to let the sacrifices of the fallen be in vain, but to rise up in their stead to continue the fight for liberty.

(2)           In the shadows of the nation’s capital in Washington, D.C., the National Memorial Day Concert takes place.

(3)        At exactly 3:00 p.m. local time across the nation, citizens are encouraged to pause for a moment of silence and remembrance for our fallen soldiers.   

          1965                                       2015        

On May 3, 1915, Colonel John McCrae, an officer with the Canadian army in the Flanders area of Belgium during the First World War, observed after months of fighting that poppies seemed to grow well around the graves of young fallen soldiers.  He was inspired to write this poem which is written from the viewpoint of the dead and speaks of their sacrifice and serves as their command to the living to press on:

                                                In Flanders Fields.

                   In Flanders field the poppies grow

                   Between the crosses, row on row

                   That mark our place, and in the sky

                    The larks, still bravely singing, fly

                   Scarcely heard amid the guns below.

                   We are the Dead.  Short days ago

                   We lived, felt dawn, saw sunsets glow

                   Loved, and were loved, and now we lie

  In Flanders field

  Take up our quarrel with the foe

  To you from failing hand we throw

  The torch, be yours to hold it high.

  If ye break faith with us who die

  We shall not sleep, though poppies grow

  In Flanders fields.

In 1918, inspired by the poem, a woman named Moina Michael attended a memorial wearing a silk poppy pinned to her coat and distributed over two dozen to others present.  Within two years the poppy had become the official symbol of remembrance.

   We who live in this country today enjoy spiritual freedom because of the sacrifice of our savior.  As we enjoy our families and celebrate over this holiday period, may we also give honor to those who also made the supreme sacrifice to make our country’s freedom possible. In the words of Abraham Lincoln…

          ”May we resolve that these dead shall not have 

          died in vain---that this nation, under God, shall

          have a new birth of freedom---and that the 

          government of the people, by the people, and

          for the people, shall not perish from the earth."  

    

 May God bless the United States of America.

More God? No, Thanks!

    In religious circles, the start of a new year brings the same emotions to individuals as in any other organization, be it business, personal, or otherwise.  A new year brings a time of reflection, perhaps regret, but always a determination to make the new year better than the one before it.  Another year of experience hopefully brings a higher level of wisdom and increased ability to handle what life throws at us.  New goals are determined, bad habits are put away, and sights are set on higher aspirations.  We as mortal humans always want to think that we are getting better and better.

    Recently, our pastor delivered a stirring sermon with a simple title, “More!”  In his sermon, he asked us to not merely desire more in our relationship with God, but to realize that to receive more, we had to be willing to give more…not in money, but in consecration, prayer, and time:  consecration in the way we live our daily lives, commitment to communication with our God through prayer, and time to the church through faithful attendance. The next Sunday the same theme was emphasized with his sermon “Activate the Promise!”  He reiterated that God has made many promises to those who are faithful to Him, and the way we activate those promises is through our rededication of our faith, prayer, and time.

    If you have attended church for several years, you would probably agree that none of what we heard in the sermons of the last few days was new material.  But the message of rededication is always timely and effective; we as humans need to be reminded on a fairly regular basis of what is really important in life and where we should be placing our priorities.  Our pastor is very effective in taking a sermon the theme of which we have heard many times and make it seem as fresh as today.

    But it was last Sunday morning as he was concluding his “Activate the Promise!” message that I realized that we as a group of people have a way to go before we reach that euphoric state of higher blessing.  The pastor preached his heart out for nearly an hour, and as he was ending his sermon, a spirit of dedication seemed to settle over the congregation.  He then asked those who were willing to offer more to the service of God to come forward to pray as a sign of rededication.  That was the moment when it became abundantly obvious where the interests of many alleged members lay.

     In my position as an usher, I sit near the rear doors of the auditorium.  As the pastor gave his call to come forward, there were many who began their walks to the front…but I was shocked at the mass exodus of probably 75-100 persons.  You would have thought that the pastor had dismissed the service instead of given a call to come forward.  With quiet music playing and audible prayers coming from the front, these people chatted and smiled as they blithely strolled out of the church…completely untouched by the sermon.  The somewhat telling fact of this situation was this:  our church prides itself in being a “diverse” church…whatever that means.  It is a contemporary philosophy which has no basis in scripture, but it makes us feel good. Regardless, it was noteworthy to me (and mentioned by more than one other person) that ninety percent of those who headed for the door at the first opportunity were all members of a single group.

    The conclusion has to be reached that there are many church attendees who, if they honestly answered the question, “Would you like to have a better relationship with God?” would answer politely, “No, thank you.”  These are the attendees who limit their church time to a 45-minute session per week and then call themselves “faithful Christians.”  These are the attendees who come to church to groove and sway to the music and jump up when the preacher’s preaching and yell, “Amen! Preacher!”...and then split for the door at the first sign of a call to prayer.  These are the ones who talk like the world, dress like the world, think like the world, and live like the world…but want to be called “Christian.”

    The church has always had “hangers-on.”  People who come to church, not to be guided, blessed, or saved, but just to gain the sensation of church so that they can profess to be church goers.  They are in every church.  They are the ones who come to receive only and never to give.   If the church is offering a free dinner after a church service, they are the first in line.  If the church is having dinner after a church service as a fundraiser and is charging $10.00 per plate, they are nowhere to be found. 

    When I witnessed the mass exodus from our church last Sunday, I was embarrassed for our church and for our pastor.  I honestly hoped at that moment that he had not noticed all those exiting souls who were rejecting what he had so eloquently preached.  But at the same time, I was reminded of the parable of the wheat and tares.  Rather than tear out the tares (weeds) from the wheat and perhaps damage some of the wheat, the farmer determined to let both grow side by side until day of harvest.  On the day of harvest, the wheat would be separated from the tares…the wheat going to a good purpose and the tares into the fire.  So it will be on the day of judgement.

     I am reminded of Elijah when he came to the people and asked, “How long halt ye between two opinions?  If the Lord be God, then follow Him; but if Baal, then follow him.  And the people answered him not a word.” (I Kings 18:21)  Last Sunday, there was a group of people who were, in effect, given that very same challenge, and, just like the children of Israel, they “answered not a word.”  But their actions spoke louder that any words, anyway.

   

Can We Be Perfect??

       Ever since Adam and Eve were placed in the garden, we as humans have acknowledged and perhaps even embraced our “humanity.”  We recognize that we are imperfect creatures, subject to the whims of circumstance and emotion.  To put it in a more modern vernacular, we throw out the phrase, “Every man has his price.”  Of course, in our current enlightened society and with increased sensitivity to political correctness, we probably should make that statement, “Every man or woman has his or her price.”  Regardless, you get the point.  We as a general populace readily profess that we are willing to sell our possessions, wives, kids, souls, reputations, and futures if the price is right.  As proof, check out the latest news wherein athletes, businessmen, and common individuals abandon contracts if offered a better deal elsewhere, common thieves sell their futures for whatever they can find in your car, and reputations are tossed aside if offered enough incentive.  Finally, Christians sometimes dismiss all that they have professed for years if faced with enough stress, disappointment, or temptation.

   Many churches accept the fallibility of people and actually build a church on the concept of inevitable imperfection.  Salvation and forgiveness are considered sort of like prepaid gift cards; since it is inevitable that we will fall, we make no attempt to avoid failure because we can always whip out the “forgiveness” card and make everything all okay.  There is no incentive to really change a life style. “Come as you are!” the churches proclaim, “and you can stay as you are, because, since we’re all imperfect, we’ll be a happy family of social imperfects.”  The informality carries through to the church service itself, where the pastor delivers the “word” in jeans and tee-shirt, the members appear as though they just came from Walmart, the music is hip and contemporary, and there’s plenty of snacks, drinks, and activities for everyone.  There are no requirements for membership…just come and join…and you’re in.

    Interestingly, in contrast to this contemporary, laid-back approach to religion, the scriptures give evidence that God has always demanded perfection from those who profess to follow him.  The history of the children of Israel in the Old Testament gives multiple testimonies of the explicit instructions God gave for worship, for sacrifices, for the building of the Tabernacle in the Wilderness, for the Jerusalem temple, and even to individuals for various actions, and failure to follow the orders led to dire consequences.  We hear a lot of discussion in our schools today concerning “no tolerance” rules, which mean fundamentally “one strike, and you’re out.”  It appears that the God of the Old Testament was the originator of that concept.

     The definition of perfect is “pure, complete in all respects, without defects, flawless, complete excellence.”   There are no degrees of perfection….an item is either perfect or it is not.  An item is either pure or it is not; an item is either flawless or it is not.  Yet, in comparison to the word “charity” which appears only 26 times in the scriptures, the word “perfect” appears 124 times…usually to describe a person that God himself called “perfect” or to describe what God demanded as a life style for an individual.  Job was described as “a perfect man,’ and God told Abraham in no uncertain terms, “Be thou perfect.”  Note the following scripture…could this be the eleventh commandment?   Deuteronomy 18:13   “Thou shall be perfect with the Lord thy God.”  A sampling of additional verses:

• Genesis 8:9   “Noah was a just man and perfect in his generations.”
• I Kings 15:11  “Asa’s heart was perfect with the Lord all his days.”
• Psalm 101:2   “I will behave myself wisely in a perfect way…I will walk within my house in a perfect way.”
• II Kings 8:61   “Let your heart therefore be perfect with the Lord your God…to walk in His statures, and to keep His commandments.”

    This requirement for perfection extends into the New Testament in the words of Jesus Christ himself:

• Matthew 5:48  “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.”

    And throughout the letters to the churches the apostles, repeated:

• II Corinthians 13:11  “Finally, brethren, be perfect, be of good comfort, be of one mind, live in peace…”

   The apostle even described the type of church that the Lord was preparing for himself:

• Ephesians 5:27  “That he might present it to himself a glorious church, not having spot,  or wrinkle, or any such thing, but that it should be holy and without blemish (perfect).”

    The most fascinating scripture, however, is the following where the apostle exhorts the brethren to “continue to press toward the mark for the prize…” and acknowledges that he is addressing “perfect” people:

• Phillippians 3:15  “Let us therefore, as many as be perfect, be thus minded, and if in anything ye be otherwise minded, God shall reveal even this to you.”

     After reading these and most of the other 124 scriptures concerning perfection, I had to ask myself a question.  How can anyone who is a descendant of Adam’s race, born into imperfection, become perfect as scripturally required?   How can something imperfect ever be made perfect?  The answer lies in the following scriptures…just a sampling of many:

• Hebrews 9:22  “And almost all things are by the law purged (purified, cleansed, made perfect) with blood; without the shedding of blood is no remission.”
• Hebrews 9:14  “How much more shall the blood of Christ, who through the eternal spirit offered himself without spot to God, purge (cleanse) your conscience from dead works to serve the living God?”
• Titus 2:14  “Who gave himself for us, that he might redeem us from all iniquity, and purify (perfect) unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works.”
• II Samuel 22:33  “God is my strength and power; and he maketh my way perfect.”

     Through baptism in the name of Jesus and the infilling of the Holy Ghost as describes in several chapters of the Acts of the Apostles, we are made perfect through His salvation.  We are described as becoming “new creatures in Christ,” but our salvation is just the beginning of our journey.  However, having been made perfect (pure) through remission in His name, how do we maintain our purity?

• I Peter 1:22  “Seeing ye have purified your souls in obeying the truth through the Spirit….see that ye love one another with a pure heart fervently.”
• I John 2:15  “Love not the world, neither the things in the world.  If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him.”
• Phillippians 2:12-15  “Wherefore, my brethren, ….work out your own salvation with fear and trembling….That ye may be blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke.”
• Phillippians 4:8  Finally, brethren, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest….whatsoever things are pure…..think on these things.”
• Matthew 5:8  “Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God.”

When a potter picks up a lump of clay, he does not see a malformed, unsightly bit of wet dirt; what he sees is the finished product…a beautiful ceramic vase or other work of art.  The beauty of salvation is that, although God does demand perfection, when He looks on us, He does not see us as we are.  Rather, He sees what we can become if we allow Him to mold our live in accordance with His will.  Do we become the perfect creature overnight?  No, it is a process of development, and with our human nature resisting that spiritual nature we have taken on, we sometime stumble and make mistakes, but He understands:

• I John 1:9  (The apostle was writing this letter to people already in the church.) “If we confess our sins, he is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.”
• Psalm 86:5  “For thou, Lord, art good, and ready to forgive, and plenteous in mercy unto all them that call on thee.”

Disappointed...in God?

    I wrote in a previous blog (“Into the Batter’s Box…Again) of my experiences with cancer-related issues.  I closed that little essay with the statement that at that time (November 2014) I had been diagnosed with chronic lymphocytic leukemia, commonly referred to as CLL.  I was comforted at the time by my skilled doctor at M.D. Anderson Cancer Clinic that CLL was a very slow working form of leukemia, sometimes not active for years, and that my level of progress of the disease was very low.  It was, he said, just a matter of monitoring the problem with no treatment planned on the horizon.In March of 2015 I revisited MDA (the term of affection for M.D. Anderson) and after $16,000 worth of testing (!) was again reassured that all was under control, and monitoring would continue as needed.  I felt comfortable with the diagnosis and prognosis.  After that date I felt well and hearty, probably partly because I lost a lot of weight on purpose, and as a result I had less baggage to haul around, so I had a corresponding reduction in blood pressure and periods of extreme fatigue.  But…the disease was still there lurking somewhere in my bloodstream.

    Fast forward to April, 2016 at my church, anyone who was a relatively faithful attendee during that time will tell you that we heard several unusually powerful and moving sermons from our pastor, our associate ministers, and even visiting ministers about the healing power of God, and as each sermon was delivered, it seemed that the message was directed to me…to the point that in one sermon the minister referred to “a faithful member of the church who is suffering from cancer.”  I understood at the time that the minister was probably referring to one of our established members who was known to be suffering from the dreaded disease, but even with that, the statement came close to me, primarily because I had not advertised my own health situation very openly.

   During two separate services, when prayer for the health-challenged was offered, the ministers of the church anointed me with oil and prayed as the scriptures suggested, and I felt a tremendous touch of…whatever you want to call it…virtue, healing, spirit, or God (all the same, anyway), and I, after the second prayer, felt that my situation with leukemia had possibly, even probably, been abated.  I felt such to the point that I looked forward to my visit to MDA in June 2016, because I fully expected my doctor to look at my lab work and tests and be amazed at the unexplainable positive changes that had occurred in my blood.  I was so confident that I told my wife that she did not need to travel with me to MDA, because I was expecting a very positive outcome to my tests.  She was scheduled to work that day, and usually she canceled her work to go with me, but that morning I drove away from our home in high spirits.

    All my tests were done by 10:30, so I dawdled and wandered around until my 1:00 appointment with Doctor Ravandi, who had been my doctor since 2008.  At precisely 1:00 p.m. I was ushered into the patient’s room and as usual interviewed by his nurse, then his physician’s assistant.  The PA was looking at the computer screen on the desk asking me questions about my medications, feelings, last six months’ events, etc., and when he finished, he left, saying that Doctor Ravandi would be available in a few minutes.  The computer was still running, however, and I, being the nosey soul that I am, decided to take a look at my medical charts and the results of the blood tests of three hours earlier.  What I saw (I had learned to read those charts), left me cold.

   It was abundantly clear that my “dormant” CLL was on the move.  Without getting into technicalities, everything about my blood that was supposed to be low was rapidly increasing, and everything that was supposed to be high was dropping like a rock.  I was stunned and disbelieving, and under my breath whispered, “Oh, God, can this be true?”  I felt as if I had been promised a valued prize and at the last minute had it snatched away.  When Doctor Ravandi entered the room a little later, I did not react much to what he had to say because I was already a little numb.  I have described in an earlier essay the moment I was told I had cancer in 2008.  This moment was not as traumatic as that, but it was a shock, anyway.  He told me what I had already determined but offered the analysis that the progression of the disease had not reached the treatment stage.  By next April (my next appointment), however, he stated if the current activity continued, we would begin some sort of procedure.  Apparently, the general consensus is that until a certain level of progression in some diseases is reached, early treatment can actually be counterproductive.  It’s sort of like when I had the blockage in my carotid artery in my neck cleared in November 2014, the blockage had been there for at least eight years, but until the blockage reached 70%, no surgery was planned.  Doesn’t make sense, but that’s the way it’s done.

    I said my goodbyes to my medical team and headed home.  I had a hard time concentrating on the traffic because I was so disappointed in the news I had received.  I had been so confident…so full of faith…in the expectation of receiving a great report that I had trouble grasping what had taken place.  If you’ve ever tried to pray and drive in heavy traffic at the same time, it’s pretty challenging.  Actually, I suppose anytime one gets on the streets of Houston, praying while driving is a necessary practice.

    In a short while, however…even before I arrived home…I began to feel a comforting spirit from God descend around me, and I remembered some of the statements I have both said and written during earlier trying times.  God’s time is not our time; sometimes healing comes, and sometimes it does not.  If we were all healed every time we became ill, we would all live forever, but our forever will come in the next life, not here on earth.  I taught a series of lessons a few years ago on “Seeking the Will of God,” and I learned that the only stated will of God in the scriptures is that “none should perish, but all have eternal life.”  Everything that He allows to happen to us is geared toward pushing us in the right direction to insure our eternal salvation.  Healing occasionally comes, wealth may come, earthly security may come, but those blessings are at best only supplemental to His divine plan for us…that we be saved.  It is our job to accept His plan for each of us and follow his leading and inspiration.  He promised, “I will be with you…even to the end of the earth.”
     As it turned out, my blood reports continued to deteriorate to the point that, in April 2017, I began chemotherapy treatments.  However, due to the advances in medicine in just the last couple of years, my chemo treatments consisted of a pill taken daily instead of injections or intravenous procedures.  As a result, I was spared the long drives to MDA.  By March of 2019, for the first time in five years, my blood counts were all in the acceptable ranges.  God moves at His chosen pace, not ours.

    So, in those instances when God does not move with the speed or in the way we would like, there may initial disappointment, but just as children eventually understand that their parents still love them in spite of saying “no,” the disappointment will quickly fade and the love for Him will remain as strong as ever.  I understand that in His time, all will end well.  I will live each day enjoying the blessing of having His spirit near me.  Healing may come, but, if not, He is still my provider, benefactor, and soon coming King.  Blessed be the Name of the Lord.

"And They Spake with Tongues..." Acts 19:6

    If you are a Pentecostal, an Apostolic, or an evangelical Christian who believes in glossolalia, the spiritual phenomenon referred to as “speaking in tongues,” this little essay may be of interest to you, but if you are a nonbeliever in the concept of spiritual edification through an experience such as glossolalia, don’t waste your time. Even if you read it you probably wouldn’t believe it…which, of course, is your inalienable right.  Actually, the idea of “believing” in speaking in tongues is somewhat misleading. Those who do not believe are those who have never experienced the phenomenon and as a result will never have to worry about the experience. Interestingly however, for those who aspire to experience speaking in tongues, belief in the possibility is a prerequisite to the experience. Finally, to those who have experienced the sensation, it becomes no longer a matter of belief but a matter of fact.  The “believer” becomes a “knower.” “Receiving the Holy Ghost” becomes as much an incontrovertible fact as the daily rising and setting of the sun.

     This essay has not been written to convince anyone via biblical scriptures of the validity of “speaking in tongues as the spirit gives the utterance” (to quote a famous verse.)  It is assumed that the reader has already read the many scriptures referring to the experience and understands that receiving the Holy Ghost with the evidence of speaking in tongues was one of the foundations of the early church and is still evident in the 21^st century.  What I would like to talk about for a few sentences are my own experiences with the phenomenon over the past many years.  First let me discuss my general observations of how speaking in tongues works in most church congregations…that is to say, those congregations which in fact do “believe.”

     The date/time that a believer speaks in tongues for the first time…and concurrently changes from a “believer” to a “knower”...is the moment that the believer is said to have “received the Holy Ghost.”  That date is celebrated as a spiritual birthday for when he/she is “born again” of the spirit.  That moment fulfills and repeats the experience mentioned many times in the New Testament concerning believers being “filled with the Holy Ghost, with the evidence of speaking in tongues.”  So the first time a believer experiences speaking in tongues is with the initial infilling of the Holy Ghost.

     In addition, throughout a believer’s life there will be moments of close spiritual relationship with God…usually moments of intense praise or worship…when the phenomenon of speaking in tongues will reappear.  Both scriptures and ministers refer to these moments as times of “refreshing” or “blessing.”  Whatever the reason or God’s purpose, the result is generally a strengthening of the resolve of the recipient to continue to attempt to live a life which is pleasing to God.  These moments of speaking in tongues may be during very personal prayer time and done in a quiet emotional manner or loudly in a church during a noisy emotional group worship and praise service.  Unlike the initial receiving of the Holy Ghost, which signifies a spiritual rebirth of a person, these moments of praise and speaking in tongues reflect simply instances of intense blessing and refreshing.  They are memorable moments of a more personal spiritual communication with our God.

    The frequency of these special blessing moments varies with each person.  There are some persons who, after the initial receiving of the Holy Ghost, seldom if ever speak in tongues again for the rest of their lives; there are others, however, who seem to have the ability (or spirituality) to speak in tongues practically on a daily basis.  After all, even the great Apostle Paul stated that he was happy he “spoke in tongues more than you all.”  I have neither the scriptural knowledge nor personal wisdom to judge a person on the frequency of his/her speaking in tongues, but I do not believe that the frequency of tongues is evidence of a person’s spirituality.  In fact, I suspect that the measure of value of the frequency of tongues may be closely related to a law of economics, namely the law of supply, which states the greater the supply of a commodity, the lower the value.  A person who cannot walk into a church house without speaking in tongues cheapens the value of the experience.  As in the economic law of supply, there is a point of equilibrium where the frequency of supply represents the true value.

    The third use of tongues in scripture is described in the book of Isaiah when the prophet wrote, “With stammering lips and an unknown tongue will He speak to his people.”  There are moments in a church service, usually moments of quiet and intense prayer, when a minister or even a member of the congregation will begin to speak in tongues.  Inevitably during these moments a quiet hush will engulf the audience and a deep, reverential spirit will sweep the room.  If the moment is right, a few seconds later, another audience member or minister will begin to repeat the spiritual message, but this time in English (or the home language of the congregation) so that all can understand what instruction or edification God may have for the listeners.  It is a time of intense personal self-evaluation, and many times the message is one of encouragement and personal reconsecration.

    There is another aspect to all three types of speaking in tongues I have described…that of the accompanying spirit that complements each evidence of speaking in tongues.  Because speaking in tongues is a physical manifestation of a spiritual move of God, it can be duplicated easily by persons who wish to misrepresent their spirituality.  I have a close friend who, when he was seeking God in his earlier years, was taken into an office by a Pentecostal minister and told he would “teach him how to speak in tongues.”  My good friend, although young in his spiritual walk, knew there was more to speaking in tongues than learning a few syllables of unintelligible gibberish.  He received his own Holy Ghost experience later. 

    Shirley and I have, over our many years of church attendance, been in countless services in which there was speaking in tongues.  In the vast majority of cases, the accompanying spirit verified the validity of the worship we felt.  But because humans will be, well, human, in every church there are occasions when the speaking in tongues is suspect.  I am not a professional linguist, although I was Russian interpreter in the military years ago.  When listening to a foreign language, however, I have learned to listen for repeated or common syllables or phrases, and even though I may not understand the meanings, I can recognize the repeated terms.  Occasionally I can hear someone who begins to speak in tongues, and I can predict what they are going to say because they say the same phrases over and over again, service after service.  I do not judge them; perhaps they have their own pet phrases in their communication with God.  But the economic law of supply pops into my mind each time I hear them.

    On June 4, 1958, about 11:00 p.m. on a Wednesday night at a Texas UPC Youth Camp, I received my personal Holy Ghost.  Even though I was just a teenager, it was a euphoric, life changing experience, and I changed from a “believer” to a “knower.”  Scoffers and doubters can discount the experience, but not to one who has truly felt the moment.  Throughout the years during times of personal worship and instances of high praise in church services, I have spoken in tongues, but I would not describe myself as one who is quick to speak.  I have always been somewhat of a realist who needed concrete proof of a concept before accepting it as fact.  Even today during moments when I feel the spirit of God about me, I have a tendency to ask myself whether I am just feeling the emotion of the moment or whether it is in fact God’s spirit touching me. That probably explains why, even though I grew up in church, it took me until I was fifteen years old to receive the Holy Ghost…long after all my peers had enjoyed their own baptisms.  The whole idea of speaking in tongues seemed far-fetched and unreachable for me…until it actually happened.

    A few Sunday nights ago, I experienced a sensation that I have never felt in a church service in my 65 years of church attendance.  We had a visiting minister who delivered a wonderful sermon, but to be totally honest I don’t remember what it was about, I guess because of the experience I had toward the end of the service..  At the end of his sermon the minister and the church began to pray and within a matter of minutes a spirit of deep, profound worship spread over the entire audience.  There was no shouting, no noise…just a sort of cross between a moan and a sound of many voices fervently, yet quietly praying.  The minister, with his sensitive and guiding spirit, told us to pray more fervently because “God is wanting to speak to us.”

    I mentioned earlier the phenomenon of “tongues and interpretation” occurring during a church service.  In most situation, those who speak in tongues during these times are said to have the “gift of tongues.”  It is one of the gifts of the spirit that was given to the early church along with the gifts of faith, healing, discerning of spirits, and others.  I have never considered myself as having any special gift (and still don’t), but when the minister instructed us to pray and “wait on the Lord,” I, in a matter of seconds, felt an overwhelming flood of spirit which prompted me to stand and raise my hands in intense worship.  I began to weep and quietly praise Him under my breath.  I wept, not with sadness, but an intense feeling of gratitude and humility, and the more I worshipped, the more I felt I needed to say something out loud.  I began to speak in a low voice, and I was speaking in tongues, yet I could not bring myself to speak loudly as if to the church because, even as I spoke quietly, I felt unworthy and unqualified to be in such an esteemed situation.  I was afraid that I would say something wrong or would stop the other unknown person in the audience who had the true message from delivering to the church what it needed to hear.

    The church waited in hushed anticipation for what seemed like an eternity while I struggled with the spirit which I felt…a spiritual pressure to speak but a fear to do so.  When it seemed like the moment of communication had nearly passed, a woman across the audience, a precious soul who has delivered messages in tongues before, began to speak.  She spoke in tongues for just a short while, but then delivered the interpretation which struck me like a freight train.  She said in her interpretation, “Fear not!…Fear not to desire and enjoy the manifestations of the spirit!”  God was talking to the church, I’m sure, but the message was also telling me to not be afraid of being used by the spirit.  I began to worship Him even more earnestly, grateful for His touch, and somewhat amazed that He would send a message I felt directly intended for me.

    Days have passed since that moment, and I can’t get it out of my mind.  I have dreamed about it and contemplated it, and also wondered, since I failed to follow His guiding spirit in that singular instance, will He ever touch me like that again.  At the following Thursday night prayer meeting, I prayed with an earnestness I haven’t felt for a long time.  It is not the phenomenon of speaking in tongues I desire, it is the feeling of the closeness of His spirit that so affected me that I will never forget it.  It left me with a determination to reach more fervently for Him and to be sensitive to His spirit.

Men's Conference 2015

  

Jerry Stewart, John Cook, Prentiss Smith

  Most Pentecostal people are social animals; they love to get together…be it for a church service, a lunch, a dinner, a home visit, or simply a cup of coffee.  Perhaps it is because we share a like faith and consider that shared faith not just a spare tire to use in time of sickness or trouble, but rather a template for living.  In doing so, a spiritual bond forms that very truly can become stronger than blood relations, and we as believers and participants in the spiritual march learn to depend on and assist one another in time of trouble or victory.

    The United Pentecostal Church, International, being the organizational glue that connects like-minded churches across the nation, divides America up into districts, and within each district are smaller administrative groups until one finally gets down to the organization of a local church.  There are men’ groups, women’s groups, seniors’ groups, young married groups, single young people’s groups, youth groups, kiddie groups…you name it…all designed to foster a comradeship and spiritual bond of fellowship.

    My group is the SODWAOTHs…Senior Old Dudes Who Are over the Hill.  OK, OK, I sort of made that up on the spur of the moment, but there really is a group called the South Texas District United Pentecostal Church Men’s Fellowship. (I think “fellowship” is the last word in the title.)  This group of men, led by an administrative staff, meets once a year for a South Texas Men’s Conference…although calling it a “conference” is a bit of a stretch.  It really isn’t a conference, but rather lots of music and lots of preaching.  There are no conference committees, no issues to be discussed, and no seminars to attend…just some heavy duty preachin’.

   Actually, the more I think about it, there is a local group called the SODWAOTHs, and we meet every Friday at our local Denny’s Restaurant to solve the issues of the day.  We never gossip…everything we talk about is absolute fact.  We determined a few weeks ago that we would try visiting the upcoming South Texas District Men’s Conference one more time.  Our last visit to San Antonio had been…shall we say…disappointing (See my blog “The Concert”  http://www.bobdowning.blogspot.com/2013/05/the-concert.html ), and we had pretty well written off ever going back.  I mean, the last place I heard music like that, they were serving hard liquor.

    But this time there was a powerful incentive to go back to the “conference.”   Our own beloved pastor, David Fauss was to be one of the speakers, along with a Reverend Jerry Dean, a minister who visited our church about a month ago and delivered one of the most astute (and ignored by most ministers) sermons I have ever heard.  We decided that with proper preparation (heavy duty ear plugs, a backup iPod with decent music, and an escape plan, if needed, in the conference auditorium, it would be worth the effort to go hear what we knew would be at least two outstanding sermons.  The meeting was to be Friday night and Saturday, May 15-16, 2015, so we made hotel reservations and prepared to head west.  In the final head count, there were four of us: Brothers (spiritually) Jerry Stewart, John Cook, and his father-in-law, Prentiss Smith, and myself.  I was glad Brother Smith was coming along because he is a long standing member of Bethel Tabernacle and a board member of impeccable credentials who would give us instant respectability in case we got ourselves in trouble.

    Whatever was to happen on Friday, it had to happen after our Denny’s breakfast, so it was not until around 11:00 that we finally headed out Interstate 10 toward San Antonio.  We were in Brother John Cook’s Honda Pilot.  Just as an aside, I sold Hondas from 1982 until 1994 and I must say Hondas have come a long way.  I still have enough gasoline in my blood that I instinctively appraise every car I get in, and the Pilot was a very nice vehicle indeed.  We four guys and luggage had plenty of space and were very comfortable for the trip. 

   Brother John Cook probably was the most uncomfortable one of us, mainly because he was doing the driving and it was raining buckets…all the way to the Drury Inn at IH-10 and Loop 1604.  We arrived there around 3:00 p.m. and in short order were on our way to our rooms:  John and his father-in-law in one and Brother Jerry Stewart and I in the other.  The Drury Inn is a very nice place…immaculately kept, handy to the church, with free breakfast, and free snack goodies from around 5:30-7:00 each evening.  Of course, at the price we paid we should have gotten free filet mignon dinners, but in the comparative price scheme of things, it was a good deal.  The hotel did not disappoint.

     Since it had been a long time since breakfast and it wasn’t 5:30 snack time yet, we decided to visit the attached Applebee’s for a late lunch, and we enjoyed the usual outstanding Applebee’s chicken salad, burgers, and whatever else the other guys ate.  By the time we finished we had just enough time to run upstairs and don our ties and jackets and head back down to the car.  The church, Hope Community Center, pastored by Brother Randy Scoggins, was only a couple of miles away, and we arrived about 7:00 p.m.  After standing in line to register and get our identification badges, we took our seats….close to the door (escape route, remember.)

     About 7:30 the first event took place which caused me to have a very unexpected flashback.  The lights dimmed slightly, and a large video screen lit up, and the first words we began to see along with ominous music and a gruff voice were “revolutionaries,” “overthrow,” “resistance,” “non-conformance,” “the status quo,” “giving our life to the cause.”  The video presented the message that we were to be revolutionaries in a hostile environment, fighting the status quo, and resisting every influence of the Evil One.  The message itself was no doubt sincere and in its hyperbole encouraged us to stand firm in the faith, but the terminology reminded me of 1966.

    In 1966 I was serving in the United States Air Force Security Service and  responsible for various intelligence gathering activities in West Berlin, Germany.  In that year I was with a group of intelligence analysts who had gained access to several Communist Party recruitment movies.  Designed to fire up a disgruntled populace, these videos and movies used the very same terminology as the video I was seeing at this men’s conference.  Don’t get me wrong, the message for us Christian men in the video was probably good, but whoever produced the video, I suspect, had no sense of history.  To some, being a revolutionary does not mean being a devout Christian.  But in all honesty, I’m sure the producers meant well, and I did not find it offensive, just really interesting.

    Well, anyway, we got through that without raising the red flag of revolution, and sure enough, the next event was an explosion of sound from the pulpit as we were primed and charged in preparation of this awesome, life changing evening.  Then the music started, and the second surprise fell into my lap: we were not deafened by a cacophony of thundering sound.  Oh, it wasn’t my kind of music, and I will argue to my dying day that it was not even “church music,” but it was at least bearable and at an acceptable volume.  The music was what I term concert music…entertaining, religious oriented, designed to get you out of your seat with its rhythm, joyful, even stimulating.  I will be the first to admit this style of music is conducive to enthusiastic praise, but, like when Houston Rockets player Dwight Howard slams home a thunderous dunk, there may be a jolt of excitement, but it is shallow and quickly fades.  Our churches have forgotten how to worship…a totally different concept of communication with God. (See blog “Praise…or Worship?”  http://www.bobdowning.blogspot.com/2010/05/praise-and-worship.html ) Our services now are measured by the amount of movement and decibels that are created. 

    There was a lead singer, stylishly dressed in some kind of jean-looking pants and either dark sneakers or boots, with his shirttail hanging out underneath his sport jacket (no tie), along with five or six women backing him up.  Well, anyway, to get away from the negativity, we survived the music and were happy our ear plugs stayed in our pockets.

   Brother Jerry Dean, however, did not make the conference because of a death in his church, but as a substitute we had South District Texas Superintendent Ken Gurley…not a bad substitute, indeed.  To Shirley and me he is Kenny because he grew up with us in our church in Baytown.  He is a few years behind Shirley and me, and of course, to teenagers, a difference of seven or eight years is like an eternity, so we did not associate with the Gurley boys very much, but we are well acquainted with their parents, whom we love and still admire to this day.  But Kenny…excuse me…Brother Gurley has been very successful in the ministry and has become a powerful preacher and pastor and very influential in the Texas District.  Over the years, every time I have heard him speak, his message has been powerful and memorable.  Friday night was no different.

       Zombies, interestingly enough, were his subject, and he tied their existence to the church and gave examples of spiritual zombies…alleged Christians who go through the motions of viable church members, but are spiritually dead and unproductive.  I won’t attempt to re-preach his sermon here because I don’t have the talent, but the message was to the point and applicable to each of us; attending church is not enough…we need to be living, productive workers for the kingdom of God.  Needless to say, he had his audience on its feet, and much rededication and recommitment was offered by us listeners after his sermon.

     I was sorry to miss my good friend and old Wyoming hunting buddy, Juan Rodriguez in service tonight.  I asked his pastor, Brother David Caruthers, of his whereabouts and he said Juan “had church duties this weekend.”  Maybe next time….  After church services there is (I think) a rule that all Pentecostals must go somewhere and eat, so we went back to the hotel and into Applebee’s and enjoyed a late snack.  Well, a little more than a “snack,” but we were hungry.

    Saturday morning we were dressed and packed by 7:45 and headed downstairs to the free breakfast, which was quite complete and very good.  These two days are playing havoc with my Nutrisystem diet plan, but I will recover next week…I hope.  By 8:30 we had eaten, checked out, and were heading to Brother John’s Honda to drive to the church.  As we were loading up the car with our luggage, Brother Fauss came gliding up in his recently purchased Corvette, a gorgeous 2004 convertible with a candy apple red paint job and tan convertible top.  I think I lost some of my “street cred” with my pastor when I traded my ‘Vette for another car a few weeks ago, but, what can I say? The ‘Vette was good for looking cool and going fast, but not too comfortable and I’m getting (choke) more…um… mature and prefer more creature comforts.  He greeted us, roared off, and we headed to the church…arriving there about 8:45.  At least for a change it was not raining, though it was a bit foggy.

    We started off with another video, not quite as in your face as yesterday’s, and the light-their-fire music started again.  I was surprised that there was only the male singer who-would-not-qualify-as-best-dressed singing…there were no backups at all.  A keyboard and a drum set (do we REALLY need anything else these days?) provided the music, (there may have been a bass player…I can’t remember) although the guy on the keyboard did have a microphone, so he may have backed up the lead guy some.  Anyway, they did their thing, and then we got to the preaching.

    Our own Brother David Fauss was the first speaker, and in venues like this, he carries on the family tradition proudly.  His dad, Brother O. R. Fauss, was, hands down, the best camp meeting and conference speaker I have ever heard, but I’ll tell you his son, Brother David Fauss, can fill his dad’s shoes pretty well.  He preached on the story of Elijah and Elisha, and the mantle that Elijah left for Elisha when his translation took place.  His message to ministers and saints alike: “Pick up the mantle!”  Like these two great prophets, we need to pick up the mantle given to us and use the power that we have been given.

      By the time Brother Fauss threw his coat (mantle) into the air, the place was rocking, and some guy ran up and caught his coat on the fly and put it on.  I was beginning to wonder if Brother Fauss was going to get his coat back.  Then there was the guy who bounced up and down the center aisle flailing his coat on the floor like he was putting out a grass fire.  I think that was supposed to be his mantle, but I couldn’t figure out what he was supposed to be doing with it. Two or three other guys were up around Brother Fauss shouting (literally) and waving about as he was attempting to preach.  I fully expected Brother Fauss to stop and say something like, “OK, let’s settle down a bit….”   Here’s a minister who will stop his sermon in mid-sentence if your cell phone goes off during a service.  But he kept preachin’ and the people kept shoutin’ and we all had a grand old time.  Toward the end of his sermon, he emphasized the need for the youthful ministers and saints to listen and heed the wisdom of the elder ministers.  At the very end, he asked all ministers over fifty years old to form a line at the front of the auditorium.  He then instructed the men under forty to walk by these senior ministers and be prayed for, and a long line formed for that purpose.

     Except we didn’t fit into either line.  So there we four guys stood…nobody within 30 feet of us while everyone else was either praying or being prayed for.  We felt hurt, and alone, and our self-esteem was shattered!  We started tearfully to go ask Brother Fauss, “Don’t we count at all?”   Had we become “disposable saints?”  Now, before you get all bent out of shape, we were laughing when we talked about this afterward.  We understood the point of Brother Fauss’s actions and appreciated the message he had delivered.  It was an outstanding sermon, which is what I fully expected when I signed up for the conference. 

     I would not have wanted to follow Brother Fauss in the pulpit to minister, but Brother Roger Blackburn, Men’s Fellowship Director for the South Texas District, did and preached, and preached, and preached a good sermon about rededication.  By the time he had finished it was 12:15 and it was decided to take a ten minute break, so we walked outside.

    We had been in our seats since 8:45, and, although Brother Randy Scoggins, the host pastor, was scheduled next to preach, the old adage was realized again, “The mind can absorb only what the end can endure.”  We were pretty well preached out, and someone mentioned maybe we should head back home.  A vote was quickly taken, and in five minutes we were pulling back onto Loop 1604 heading east.

    The weather had turned sunny and we had a good trip home, stopping in Seguin at a Chili’s for lunch.  I had another good fajita chicken salad.  I also ordered a hot chocolate melting cake dessert…only because it was my favorite dessert on the Carnival Magic cruise ship and I wanted to, you know, compare them.  The one on the ship was just right for one person, but when this one was brought, there were four spoons in it, and it was enormous!  And wonderfully good.  Fortunately my brethren saw my plight and volunteered to help me dispose of all the cake.

    The rest of the way east on IH-10 was uneventful.   We dropped Brother Jerry off first, and then I said goodbye to the two remaining friends about 4:45.

    The conference was worth the trip because of the ministry…but it was thoroughly enjoyable because I got to spend it with some of the greatest guys I have ever been privileged to know.