November 22, 1963, that evening. My mother, a stanch Republican, wept at the kitchen table. My father, as hard a man as I have ever known, sat in a chair and stared out a window, occasionally wiping his eyes. When the news came through earlier in the day, I was in the back seat of the car because I was home sick and was going with my mother to the bank. We pulled into the parking lot and people were staggering around or just stopped, leaning against their cars. It was strange. Complete strangers hugging one another, talking in hushed tones, looking to the sky for answers. At that moment, we happened to be in Chardon, Ohio and church bells began to ring. Deep sorrowful notes. That evening the lead anchor on TV barely got through his newscast because he kept choking up. Government leaders at every level needed a day before they could face reporters and the reporters willingly allowed them that day.  

July 13, 2024. News people took on somber faces, but there was a feeling of satisfaction. Government officials said the appropriate words, but one New England government bureaucrat posted on social media, "We abhor such violence, but if you are going to take the shot, don't miss." In spite of the fact that two were dead and others wounded, the media people were all rushing around trying to get a different angle on the tragedy. On one of the news feeds that I read (I read both liberal and conservative feeds because I want both sides), the big news was fifth in line after the death of a Hollywood near celebrity, the misadventures of the royal family and other world shaking events. And, of course, people pointing out that the weapon used should have been banned.

So, what has happened in America between John F. Kennedy's killing in Dallas in 1963 and Donald Trump's near killing in Butler PA in 2024?

In June of 1962 the Supreme Court ruled that organized prayer in school sponsored by the school was unconstitutional. By January of 1964 the ban was fully implemented throughout the country. The ruling grew to eventually, in most schools, ban the Bible anywhere in a school building. During the 1960s there were multiple riots in various cities where many died as well as three major assassinations. In schools, dress codes were eliminated. The ability to punish a child was severely curtailed. What once had been referred to as the theory of evolution became the fact of evolution. As society changed, so did the churches. What had once been condemned as sin became accepted. Rarely does a church stand for anything, but rather goes along with the ebb and flow of society. Denominations began to put their theological differences aside and join together by their social justice beliefs, thus causing a breakdown in the theological fabric of the churches. The sense of right and wrong that had governed society crumbled before the wave of evil that swept the world and is still plaguing us today.

And now, the finger pointing has started. The Secret Service is at fault! Well, you fail to secure a relatively small area and a shooter gets to within 130 yards then, yes, you share the blame. The Democrats are to blame! Again, you formulate hate of a man then, yes, you share the blame. The Republicans are to blame! Here you widen the gap by backing such a divisive man then, yes, you share the blame. But who is really to blame?

We have covered all the bases, right?

Not really. The real culprit in the degrading of society at every level, the real culprit in increasing violence, the real culprit in the lack of God in our institutions, are CHRISTIANS. 

What? No, wait! We are the ones who are being wronged!

When was the last time you prayed earnestly for the president? When was the last time you prayed earnestly for your school system? When was the last time you prayed earnestly for the churches? When was the last time you shared your faith with an unbeliever? When was the last time you delved deeply into the Word of God?

What did Thomas Crooks, the 20 year old who shot Trump and killed another man, know of God? Oh, he probably celebrated Christmas, but with Santa rather than Jesus. He probably enjoyed Easter, only with a bunny and colored eggs rather than a risen Savior. I have been to Butler PA on multiple occasions. Churches everywhere! Vacation Bible Schools, Sunday schools, Youth programs.....did young Thomas ever once hear of the true Jesus? Of course, he could have been in church every Sunday of his life and still laid on that rooftop with a rifle. But, did any Christian ever share the Gospel with him?

A Christian has three jobs. Pray. Study the Word (not some quicky devotional, but the real Word). Share the saving power of Jesus. Until we truly begin to do our three non-time consuming jobs, we will continue to watch our world seriously go to hell.  

    Both of my parents were from Kentucky. Actually, from the same little town. Even went to the same little church. Since my father was older than my mother, they didn't connect. They knew each other in a vague sense. But when my father returned from WWII, that gawky little girl who was the daughter of the Sullivans from up on Bender Hill yonder had just reached adulthood, and everything changed. After the war, two of my mother's brothers and their wives and one of her sisters and her husband moved to the same little town in Ohio to find work. The men all farmed and worked in factories and were making more money than they could have in Kentucky. It wasn't long before my parents did the same thing. This little town, Perry Ohio, sits on the shores of Lake Erie and is extremely cold in the winter. Kentucky folk didn't usually come that way. But now, there were four families of hill folk (commonly referred to as 'hillbillies') residing in the township.

    Even though I thought I talked just fine, I found out when I started school that I talked funny. My friends from down the road never said anything about the way I talked, and my family all talked the same way. But I swiftly found out that I was different. For instance, there is no such word as 'heared.' The correct word is 'heard.' I slurred some words. It was assumed that I had a speech impediment and I was forced to take special speech classes. All I was doing was speaking Southern. I just did not know it was a foreign language in Northeast Ohio.

    So, I grew up bilingual. Not only was I fluent in both Midwestern and Southern, but I was also very familiar with the lifestyles of these two very different lands. When we went to visit the Kentucky folks, we went when the tobacco was coming in so we could lend a hand. In other words, we worked on vacations. It is totally different in the hill country, but I was at home there as well as in the great frozen North.

    And then I married a city girl from the city of Cleveland, and I found out that she had no clue about life. Milk came from the dairy aisle in the grocery store. Chicken was over in the meats section. It never occurred to me that someone could grow to adulthood and not associate the food you ate with actual animals. We were married five years before she quit calling cows 'moo-cows.' She gagged the first time she ever ate rabbit. I didn't even try to introduce her to squirrel. She once yelled at a cow for daring to relieve itself in front of her. That would have been funny except we were at the county fair to see our 4-H kids and their projects. But she really didn't know.

    Now in my so-called 'golden years,' I am pausing to reflect back on my dual childhood. It has come to me that others may not know how to survive in the South, so I have put together this aid to prepare you for what is to come once you cross the Ohio River. Pay attention.

    THINGS YOU NEED TO KNOW IF YOU INTEND TO SPEND TIME IN DIXIE:

1. A possum is a flat animal that sleeps in the middle of the road.

2. There are 5,000 types of snakes and 4,998 of them live in the South.

3. There are 10,000 types of spiders. All 10,000 of them live in the South, plus a couple no one's seen before.

4. If it grows, it'll stick ya. If it crawls, it'll bite cha.

5. Onced and Twiced are words.

6. It is not a shopping cart, it is a buggy!

7. Jawl-P? means: Did you all go to the bathroom? As in, Jawl-P before we left the house?

8. People actually grow, eat, and like okra.

9. Fixinto is one word. It means I'm going to do something.

10. There is no such thing as lunch. There is only dinner and then there's supper.

11. Iced tea is appropriate for all meals and you start drinking it when you're two. We do like a little tea with our sugar. It is referred to as the Wine of the South.

12. Backwards and forwards means I know everything about you. As in, 'I knows you backwards and forwards.'

13. The word jeet is actually a question meaning, 'Did you eat?'

14. You don't have to wear a watch, because it doesn't matter what time it is, you work until you're done or it's too dark to see.

15. You don't PUSH buttons, you MASH em.

16. Y'all is singular. All Y'all is plural.

17. All the festivals across southern states are named after a fruit, vegetable, grain, insect, or animal.

18. You carry jumper cables in your truck for your OWN truck.

19. You only own five spices: salt, pepper, mustard, Tabasco, and ketchup.

20. The local papers cover national and international news on one page, but require 6 pages for local high school sports, motorsports, and gossip.

21. Everyone you meet is a Honey, Sugar, Miss (first name), or Mr (first name)

22. You think that the first day of deer season is a national holiday.

23. You know what a hissy fit is.

24. Fried catfish is the other white meat.

25. We don't need no dang Driver's Ed. If our mama says we can drive, we can drive!!!

    There now, that should get you past Louisville or Cincinnati, at least for a few miles. Go and enjoy.

America. Land of the free. Home of the brave. 

A child, old enough to vote but still a child, told me not so long ago that he was a proud Democrat. I thought at the time, and I still think the same, that it was a stupid statement. That thought didn't run through my mind because I am not a Democrat. That thought was there because we have, Republican and Democrat, a seriously messed up government. We expect our elected officials to lie every time they open their mouths. We expect this because we have been lied to for a long time. Even so, though we know we will be lied to, there is a sizable group of Republicans and a sizable group of Democrats who will vote a straight ticket. And that is the biggest part of our problem. People who are not really sure of who is even running for the various offices will vote for the R or D.

Now, some of you will be getting angry at me right now, so let me say, I have no loyalty toward any political party. People divide along party lines. Several years back, one of the men who worked with me at the funeral home, got all fired up at me because I shared this view with him. Actually, he brought it up. He kept getting louder and louder and, since there was a funeral underway, I had to drag him outside. According to him, I was disloyal to the cause. So, I asked him, what does the Bible say on the subject. That stopped him cold. I showed him that those that have charge over us are placed there by God and we are to pray for them. Being a good Catholic, he didn't know much about the Bible, so he could not even begin to try and refute me. You see, that is how I judge candidates, by how they stand for the Lord. And during campaign season, all of them are Godly, family candidates. At least according to their words.

My allegiance, my loyalty, is first toward the Lord. Second, it is for my country. It is not now, nor will it ever be, given to people who will say whatever it is they believe I want to hear. My loyalty to the Lord led me into a lifetime commitment to His service and my loyalty to my country led me to the Federal Building in Cleveland and where I took the oath and joined the armed forces. But if the Republican or Democrat national conventions were held across the street from where I live, I wouldn't cross the street to attend.

But I love this country. This America, flaws and all.

History lesson: The Revolutionary War pitted the British colonies in the NewWorld against the most powerful nation in the world at that time. A group of men gathered in Philidelphia over July 3, 4 and 5. They signed a document that declared independence from England. In so doing, they signed their own death warrants. Some lost their lands, some lost their families, some lost their lives. Why? Because they loved the very concept of their new country. What led the rag-tag colonists to fight a hopeless battle? They loved the concept of their new country. They loved it so much that they died for it. And they won. They wrested control away from England against all odds.

But it wasn't over, even after the treaties were signed. For years, the British navy harassed American cargo ships. They would run down an American ship and force them to stop. Then they would board the ship and inspect the cargo, sometimes taking the cargo but almost always taking abled bodied American seamen to serve on the British ships. This led to the second war between the two countries, known here as the War of 1812. Again, the Americans came away victorious. But again, soldiers and sailors died to secure that victory. 

When you read these histories, especially those written at the time or shortly thereafter, you see the passion of the combatants, the undying love of country that drove them forward. Those in political power considered it a privilege to serve in that capacity, rather than the current feeling that it is a cushy career.

In 1814 the British launched a naval siege of Fort McHenry, the fort that protected river that led to Baltimore. To have seized Baltimore would have gone a long way to have secured a British victory and probably returned America to a colonial possession once more.  

A young lawyer by the name of Francis S. Key had gone aboard a British ship, the HMS Tonnant, to see about the release of an American physician who was falsely accused to harming British prisoners. Key managed to secure the release, but they were detained by the British because they had heard the plans for the attack on the fort. So it was that Key stood at the rail of a ship and watched the 25 hour bombardment of the fort. 1,800 shells and some 700 rockets were fired at the Americans and the Americans fired almost as much back. When the bombardment ceased as darkness came on the scene at the end of the second day, the outcome was still not known. But as dawn broke, a massive American flag with stars and stripes flew above the fort and the British ships were forced to withdraw. Key was so moved that he wrote a poem of four verses. A few more verses were written later by different people, but the words that Key penned expressed his pride and love. Most of us just know the first verse of that poem. It became our National Anthem. But these are the four verses that Key wrote (Just a quick note. Verse 4 is not to be sung in schools since it mentions God. We sure have come a long way, haven't we?);

1.) O! say can you see by the dawn's early light,
⁠What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming,
Whose broad stripes and bright stars through the perilous fight,
⁠O'er the ramparts we watch'd, were so gallantly streaming?
And the Rockets' red glare, the Bombs bursting in air,
Gave proof through the night that our Flag was still there;
⁠O! say does that star-spangled Banner yet wave,

⁠O'er the Land of the free and the home of the brave?

2.) On the shore dimly seen through the mists of the deep,
⁠Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes,
What is that which the breeze, o'er the towering steep,
⁠As it fitfully blows, half conceals, half discloses?
Now it catches the gleam of the morning's first beam,
In full glory reflected now shines on the stream,
'Tis the star-spangled banner, O! long may it wave

O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

3.) And where is that band who so vauntingly swore
⁠That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion,
A home and a country should leave us no more?
⁠Their blood has washed out their foul footsteps' pollution.
No refuge could save the hireling and slave,
From the terror of flight, or the gloom of the grave,
And the star-spangled banner in triumph doth wave,

O'er the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.

4.) O! thus be it ever, when freemen shall stand,
⁠Between their lov'd home and the war's desolation,
Blest with vict'ry and peace, may the Heav'n rescued land,
⁠Praise the Power that hath made and preserv'd us a nation!
Then conquer we must, when our cause it is just,
And this be our motto—"In God is our Trust;"
⁠And the star-spangled Banner in triumph shall wave,

O'er the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave.            

I have discovered many things about people living where I live now. Some have questionable family backgrounds, things that would make you squirm in your seat to hear. Some have had very bad church experiences. You may think that the Roman Catholic Church leaders are the only ones that have abused people and then covered it up, but you would be wrong. Some have been married, unhappily, multiple times and yet would like to try at least once more. Some had wonderful marriages and now miss their spouses terribly. Everyone has a story or two. It can be pretty rugged, or it can be pretty wonderful. But one thing is common here. One thing that everyone will talk about freely.

Everyone here has the perfect grandchildren.

I know, I know.....your grandchildren are the most perfect. I understand. But to listen to folks here, you are dead wrong. You are living a lie. So, I have put together some stories from various sources about grandchildren. It is amazing that even when it is a story of a grandchild doing bad, it is really about an angelic little fart, uh, grandchild.

The first concerns a grandmother as she was in the bathroom, putting on her makeup, under the watchful eyes of her young granddaughter, as she'd done many times before since grandmother lived with the family. After she applied her lipstick and started to leave, the little one said, "But Grandma, you forgot to kiss the toilet paper good-bye!" The little one had mistaken that final dabbing of the lips to take away the excess lipstick as kissing the toilet paper good-bye. Why squeeze the Charmin when you can kiss it.

Many folks here have children scattered all across the country, which doesn't seem to bother them too much. But that also means they have grands scattered everywhere. That creates distress. But all our new forms of communication helps with that. Phone calls, texting, video chats, it really is a very good thing. Not unusual to hear one grandparent explaining to another grandparent what the best app to use when making those calls. It is a special joy to connect with the little ones. One little great-grandson called his grandfather to wish him a happy birthday. "Grandpa, how old are you now?" Grandpa replied that he was 80 now. There was quiet for a moment, and then the little guy asked in wonder, "Did you start at 1?"

One grandmother was visiting her daughter and family and she was having a wonderful time spending time with the two grands. One evening she paid for her daughter and husband to have a night out. The plan was to have a fun night with her two little angels. But without parental supervision, the little ones where more wired than sweet. Finally, grandma had enough and, lovingly and gently, got them ready for bed. Now to relax! After putting her grandchildren to bed, grandmother changed into old slacks and a droopy blouse and proceeded to wash her hair. As she heard the children getting more and more rambunctious, her patience grew thin. Finally, she threw a towel around her head and stormed into their room, putting them back to bed with stern warnings. As she left the room, she heard the three-year-old say with a trembling voice, "Who was THAT?"

A grandmother was telling her little granddaughter what her own childhood was like. "We used to skate outside on a pond. I had a swing made from a tire; it hung from a tree in our front yard. We rode our pony. We picked wild raspberries in the woods." The little girl was wide-eyed, taking this all in. At last she said, "I sure wish I'd gotten to know you sooner!"

And finally, a grandson was visiting one day when he asked, "Grandma, do you know how you and God are alike?" Grandma mentally polished her halo and said, "No, how are we alike?'' "You're both old," he replied.

So now, finish your tea and go on to bed and don't make me come up there!

I would have done anything to get to be active in the ministry when I was 19. 

The Bible college I attended had 84 churches in the mountains surrounding Chattanooga and all the way north to Knoxville. Some of these churches were fair sized, but most were 10-15 people. All the churches had pastors, youth pastors and ministers of music who were my fellow students. It was an effort to provide students with experience in real church situations. I wanted to get involved, so I signed up for any opportunity.

I would have done anything.....

There was a church on a mountain just across the state line in Georgia. They were going to have a revival. In February. Northern Georgia is a lot warmer than where I come from in Ohio, but it was the mountains and it was February. The pastor of this little church was driving his rattle-trap old car up the mountain. It seemed to be getting colder with each rotation of the tires. Next to the pastor in the front seat was the man who was going to preach this revival, the evangelist. The exhaust was leaking into the car, so the rear windows had to be opened. Sitting in the back seat were the pastor's wife and two small children. Oh, and me. I was going along as the guest song leader. I had no experience in this, but the regular guy refused to drive in that weather. Calling me the 'guest song leader' made me sound special, I guess. 

I had just been told that afternoon I was doing this, so I had no music ready. The pastor and the evangelist were talking in the front seat and talking very loudly to be heard over the broken exhaust. I tapped the evangelist on the shoulder and asked him if he had any particular hymns he wanted. He turned in the seat and gave me a glare.

"LISTEN, BOY!" (He was in his last year, so he was four years older than me. I was Boy.) "WHEN I PREACH, I PREACH WHAT THE HOLY GHOST LAYS ON MY HEART. I JUST LET GO AND LET FLY! YOU BETTER GET PRAYED UP AND LET THE HOLY GHOST PICK YOUR MUSC!" 

OK, I had been told. When I got to the church I asked the older lady who was playing the piano what she thought and she said the regular lady wasn't there, so she was playing. She only knew five songs and two of those were Christmas carols. So.....we sang her five songs and I was told on the way home that my services were no longer desired for the rest of the revival. Strangely enough, I was quite happy to sit in my dorm room the next night and listen to the sleet beat at the windows.

2 Timothy 2:15 says, "Study to show yourself approved unto God, a workman who doesn't need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of God." Funny in a way. No where does it say let go and let fly. When the Jews sang on the way to Temple, they sang certain songs at certain places along the way. When children were taught in Hebrew school, the lessons were strict and prepared. We are to be prepared when we step up to teach or sing or preach. Even when we do none of those things, we need to be prepared to minister to someone when they need some Jesus. 

Imagine you are going in for open heart surgery. A man walks in wearing tennis clothes. "Hey, what do you say we do this! Let's see...Oh, my. Your chart says triple bypass. Yeah, I can probably do that. I'll just wing it!" Or someone trips on a root in your yard, cracks a vertebrae and sues you. You don't want your lawyer to be family law and know little about how to help you. You don't want to take your spouse to an expensive restaurant and get a toasted cheese sandwich. Shouldn't you do the best you can to present the Lord in the best way possible? It is our job.

Study!

    What does one write about in the week leading up to Father's Day? Well, of course, Father's Day! We fathers are viewed sometimes as walking ATMs, tellers of lame jokes, less bright than our wives and children and hopelessly inept at the social graces of civilized society. We deserve some praise. But that is not what is on my mind these days.

    Fifty years ago this past Sunday, I graduated from high school. A bit of a wake-up call. Somehow, even with illnesses and struggles and gray hair these last several years, I didn't hear old age rushing up behind me. That is probably because my hearing is going. But I have had to face the fact that eighteen year old Larry is gone for good.

    And yet, I haven't been thinking about my classmates much. It isn't because I have anything against my class, we were just never all that close, even during school. Other classes were, but we just never fell into that groove. My best friend, Keith, was in my class. We met when we were three years old. I loved Keith like a brother. Keith passed away three years ago and left a hole in my heart. But our friendship was mostly out of school. With everyone else, when the final school bell rang for the day, we all went our separate ways.

    No, I really haven't been thinking about my classmates. Mostly I have been thinking about the passage of time and the changes that have taken place. You never could believe a politician back then, but you wanted to believe. Now you don't even consider that they might be telling the truth. We thought a vehicle that got thirteen MPH was pretty good. Now, forty MPH is the benchmark, and government mandate is trying to change that. When four or five guys were all peering into the engine compartment while another guy was bent over the engine working on it, the other guys were offering advice based on their knowledge of auto repair. Now, if several guys are looking into an engine compartment, they are looking to see how you plug it in, since they couldn't find the plug on the outside. Back in the olden days, when we were simple minded folk and before society became so enlightened, we actually thought there were just two genders. Now, since we have become so smart, there are 107 different gender identities. I am not kidding. Just put in Google how many genders are there in 2024 and be amazed.

    Now, here is one for you. According to the Center for Disease control (and why they keep statistics on this is beyond me), every thirty six seconds a marriage ends in the USA. Prisons are full of inmates from broken homes. Obviously, marriages ended back in my day, but it was only seen as the most extreme option. Now, it is the first or second option. In the state of Ohio you have to be licensed in the state to perform marriages (one of the few states that require it). You have to meet several standards to prove you are ordained or licensed by a church. When I returned to Ohio from Indiana, I decided not to reapply for that license. I don't ever want to do another marriage. When the emphasis is more on the party after the wedding and the dress and the cake than the sacredness of the marriage, as it usually is these days, there are problems on the horizon.

    I heard an interview by Red Skelton back in the mid 1090s about the state of comedy at that time. Red was not a perfect man. He was not a pillar of decency. But he was funny. He said in the interview that the problem with comedy in the 1990s was that people thought you had to be vulgar in language and subject matter. When was the last time you heard a comedian who didn't sprinkle in some vulgarity. Some comedians start with vulgarity and get worse as they go along. It is hard to maintain your personal decency while being assailed with garbage.

    So, since June is the 'marriage month,' I thought I would give you Red's secrets to a good marriage. Think what a current comedian would do with this subject and then read Red's. Maybe our problem is we have forgotten how to laugh while learning how to be offended at the least little thing. Everything is so serious and filled with hate. Anyway, Red said.....

1. Two times a week we go to a nice restaurant, have a little beverage, good food and companionship. She goes on Tuesdays, I go on Fridays.

2. We also sleep in separate beds. Hers is in California and mine is in Texas.

3. I take my wife everywhere, but she keeps finding her way back.

4. I asked my wife where she wanted to go for our anniversary. "Somewhere I haven't been in a long time!" she said. So I suggested the kitchen.

5. We always hold hands. If I let go, she goes shopping.

6. She has an electric blender, electric toaster and electric bread maker. She said "There are too many gadgets, and no place to sit down!" So I bought her an electric chair.

7. My wife told me the car wasn't running well because there was water in the carburetor. I asked where the car was. She told me, "In the lake."

8. She got a mud pack and looked great for two days. Then the mud fell off.

9. She ran after the garbage truck, yelling, "Am I too late for the garbage?" The driver said, "No, jump in!".

10. Remember: Marriage is the number one cause of divorce.

11. I married Miss Right. I just didn't know her first name was 'Always'.

12. I haven't spoken to my wife in 18 months. I don't like to interrupt her.

13. The last fight was my fault though. My wife asked, "What's on the TV?" I said, "Dust!"

    And like Red said to finished every show, "And may God bless!"

 

I was young. In Christian college in Chattanoga, Tennessee. I was every bit of twenty years old, so you know it was a long, long time ago. I had been serving in a church in Loudon, Tennessee for a year while going to school. I was inexperienced and extremely unsure of myself, so I was an easy target for jokesters. Mr. Williams, one of our deacons, was the best of the best of these jokesters. One day he began telling me of a preacher who had started a ministry on Saturday evenings and I should go one evening to support him. All the signs were there that should have tipped me off that Mr. Williams was about to make me miserable, but I was impressionable and I respected Mr. Williams. Retired Army major with a chest full of medals from WWII and Korea. He thought it was great fun to torment the young preacher boy. The national average that someone stays in the ministry is only five years, and part of the reason is that nearly every church has a Mr. Williams. 

Anyway, when that Saturday night came, Mr. Williams picked me up and we drove to an old, abandoned cinema. At least, I had assumed it was abandoned. Windows boarded up, just a few letters on the sign outside, an old movie poster still on the wall. Abandoned. However, the preacher he wanted me to hear had rented it and had picked up the trash and debris in the first ten rows and had put an old, beat up pulpit on stage and called it all the only Holy Spirit filled church in the whole county. There was no music, just this preacher ranting and raving up on that stage. This went on for about an hour and a half. Other than Mr. Williams and me, there were maybe ten people there, and most of them were asleep by the end. I was having trouble staying awake myself. You can get so used to yelling that it just bounces off you.

The preacher was winding down and then he said, "Now, brothers and sisters, old Arnold down here has brought a young preacher boy with him and I want to say a prayer over him. Young brother, y'all come down here!" I didn't know he was talking about me. I didn't know Mr. Williams' name was Arnold. I guess I would have sat there quietly, but Mr. Williams was telling me to go down front. The preacher was standing on the elevated stage about fifteen feet above us and he was pointing at a spot on the floor at the base of the stage. So, I got up and went down to that spot and bowed my head. The preacher started praying, then he started yelling, then he started stamping his feet, begging God to fill me with the Holy Ghost. Literally yelling at God. I finally decided I was done and was just about to leave when there was a boom next to me. Startled, I opened my eyes to see that the preacher had jumped from the stage to the floor next to me. His hand smacked on my forehead so hard it dazed me, and then his long, boney fingers wrapped around my head. He started jerking my head one way and then another, commanding me to be filled with the Holy Spirit. It was all I could do to stay on my feet. It finally ended and Mr. Williams managed to hold it together until we got to his truck. Then he roared with laughter. Somehow, I saw no humor there.

I have had some conversations in the last week or so about the filling of the Spirit, and I am surprised at what the world sees and understands about the filling of the Holy Spirit. Almost without fail the unbeliever thinks Christians equate being filled with that raving preacher back in Tennessee. But what is more surprising is that most Christians do not want to be associated with being filled because they think the same as the unbelievers. They don't want to act stupid. So I thought we would look at the Bible.

The gifts of the Holy Spirit allow us to share the Gospel of Christ. The fruit of the Holy Spirit lets others know we are Christians. We are familiar with the gifts, except some Christians use them  for other reasons than to share the Gospel. So let's look, briefly, at the fruit. 

Galatians 5:19-24; 19. Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, 20. idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions, 21. envy, drunkenness, orgies, and things like these. I warn you, as I warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God. 22 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness,  23. gentleness, self-control; against such things there is no law. 24. And those who belong to Christ Jesus have crucified the flesh with its passions and desires. 

We see what the works of the flesh are, and we see what the fruit of the Spirit is. Many believe that being in the Spirit is getting wound up by loud music and shouting from a preacher. But those folks have a hard time living for the Spirit outside of the church. Why? Because the reality of living for the Spirit is so very boring. We want our hearts to pound, but is that the Holy Spirit? Think about the fruit of the Spirit. Love, joy, peace patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control. I don't see shouting there. I don't see loud music there. I don't see speaking in tongues there. I don't see healing with a touch there. Do you show the fruit of the Spirit or the works of the flesh in your own life? 

Do something for me. Think of these things and then think of the person who best shows the fruit of the Spirit. Give them a call and thank them for being an example. I can think of a few and every one of them would be embarrassed to be thought of as a great example. That is called humbleness and that is a hallmark of someone who bears the fruit.

Blessings.