By the
time I was eight years of age, my father was a full-time pastor and had
gained considerable recognition for himself. He was overseer of a three-state
district for the Assemblies of God. His district included |
Although
absent from the individual congregation for weeks at a time, his close
relationship to the Lord kept him aware of every secret situation. Nothing
passed him by. |
Upon arrival
at each church, a business meeting would be held prior to the service. It was
then that Dad produced a little black book, whose appearance provoked
curiosity to the innocent and trembling fear to the guilty, for his word of
knowledge ministry was known by all members. |
"Sister
Miller," he would begin, "the Lord showed me that on January 9th,
you told a lie on Sister Kelly to try and make her leave the church." |
He never
had to ask if it were true, for the revelation from the Lord was so accurate
and descriptive that no protest could arise from the lips of the guilty one.
Repentance was immediate and revival resulted. |
And so the
visits to each of his pastorates would bring swift correction along with spiritual
exhortation and a deepening love for God's power. At the same time many souls
were won for the |
The
biggest event of the week for a preacher's family was, of course, going to
church. Our lives had become church centered. Church provided our religious
education, social activity and our entertainment. Some might think we would
have grown bored with having to attend church so often, but not so in my
father's circle of ministry. Something unusual and often miraculous was bound
to happen. |
One of the
most outstanding miracles I stored in the treasure chest of my memory took
place at a revival in the old "Glory Barn" in the little town of
Big Stone Gap, Virginia, a community about twelve miles from where we lived
in Norton. |
The building,
donated by Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, who owned the adjoining property, was once an
unused barn, which had been converted into a place of worship. |
This
donation was a result of the prayers of the people of Big Stone Gap, who
wanted to attend a full-gospel church but had to drive several miles away to
a church further up the valley where my father pastored. |
When their
willingness to offer this building as a church was made known, my father
found that he had another congregation. |
Because of
its construction it easily held large crowds, and evangelists, such as James
Hamil (who met and married my father's piano player) and Otto Lunsford,
filled it to capacity, preaching old-time gospel with signs following their
ministry. I personally saw the blind see, the deaf hear, the dumb talk, large
goiters disappear and short limbs grow to full length. Because of these and
other miraculous happenings, it had rightfully earned for itself the name of
the "Glory Barn." |
People
came in spite of the totally alien appearance of the church building. Each
uncomfortable bench was made by laying a rough-hewn plank across two logs; it
still maintained its dirt floor which had been packed smooth by the feet of
the many people who frequently jammed the building for the worship services. |
On this
particular evening the service was about to begin. Some worshipers were
already seated. Others mingled in the aisles greeting fellow Christians.
Their voices, mixed together with the noise of the musicians on the platform tuning
up, created a cacophony of sound. |
The naked
electric bulbs, hanging in their sockets by a thin wire from the rafters
overhead, scattered their sparse light about, dispelling the darkness in the cavernous
building. I made my way onto the platform to ask permission to sit with my
friends in the rear. The crudely constructed platform, with its cracks so
wide they challenged any young boy to spit through them, squeaked and creaked
as I walked to where my father sat leafing through his Bible. |
Having
received my orders on church behavior, I had no sooner sat down with my
buddies when the song leader stepped forward to open with prayer and announce
the song. |
Joyous
singing filled the air, "There's going to be a meeting in the air in the
sweet, sweet bye and bye..." |
Clapping
hands picked up the rhythm and here and there some feet kept a tapping pace.
The songs were accentuated and punctuated with enthusiastic "amens"
and "halleujahs." It wasn't long before some of the people began
dancing up and down the aisles, eyes closed, arms stretched upward, oblivious
to those around them. They were following the leading of King David in 2
Samuel |
I looked
up to see a group of people enter the building and take their seats about
halfway down the aisle. Among them, I noted, was a cousin of mine. I was
mildly surprised for his family was not known as church-goers. |
I sat there
smiling to myself, enjoying the scene which met my eyes, until suddenly what
I saw filled me with indignation and caused a red flush to creep up from
beneath my collar. |
There sat
my cousin and his group mocking the worshipers. Observance of those around
them produced a mimicry that was not motivated by the Spirit. They pretended
to jerk, shake, and move their mouths in jabbering words as if they were
"speaking in tongues" and were "in the Spirit," then,
they would turn to one another for approval. This would produce an
instantaneous outbreak of giggles and smothered laughter. I realized as I sat
a few rows behind them that they had not come to worship, but only to have a
few laughs at the expense of God's children. |
People
nearby began to turn and stare, becoming agitated and upset by the
disturbance, but not really knowing what to do. I noted that some of them
dropped their heads in prayer concerning the disrespectful behaviour. |
As the
service progressed, each portion of the meeting, with its various
participants, would provoke that group of irreverent men and women to further
imitate the actions of what they called the "holy rollers." I
wondered what my father would do when it came his turn to preach if they kept
this action up. Would he denounce them from the pulpit, proclaiming them as
an abomination in God's house? |
But
instead, when his turn came, he arose, read his text and began to fervently
and mightly preach the Word. The power of the Holy Spirit became a hovering Presence,
unseen, but felt by all. It seemed to envelop my father and add its weight to
his words. |
As my
father preached with his usual zeal, his deep |
Soon his
coat was hastily removed and flung with abandon to a nearby empty folding
chair, landing in a crumpled heap. |
He rolled
his shirt-sleeves up past his elbows to give more freedom to his articulate
gesturing as he emphasized each phrase. His tie was hanging loosely about his
now unbuttoned collar, perspiration streaming from his brow, reflecting the
light of the bare bulb hanging just overhead. His white shirt looked like he
had just come in from a rain shower. |
His
already soaked handkerchief, snatched from his hip pocket, mopped his
forehead. |
The
audience was caught in the spell. Shouts of "amen" followed each
positive statement. |
I looked all
around the building and noted the mood of the crowd, and saw that even the
eyes of that unbelieving group seemed riveted upon my father, but not without
sneers of contempt upon the faces of a few. I thought to myself, "It'd
serve them right if God would pronounce judgment on them." |
These
thoughts had scarcely entered my mind when I heard gasps hiss through the
audience. I looked up to see people rising to their feet and moving to the
center of the aisle where a woman had collapsed on the floor. |
"She's
dead!" someone cried. |
I sucked
in my breath as the shock ran through me. The whole audience seemed to rise
to their feet as one. |
The woman
who now lay lifeless had come with the group that had just previously been mocking
the power of God. She had been sitting on the end of the pew and had just
toppled over into the aisle. Those gathered around her checked her pulse,
trying in every way to see if they could determine if life still existed in
the still form, but it seemed of no avail. |
All eyes
now turned to my father, who had kept right on preaching. |
"Brother
Pat, she's dead!" someone yelled. |
But my
father kept right on preaching to the amazement of the congregation. The
situation at hand did not deter him from his duty. He always believed in
moving in the Spirit, not ahead of Him. |
Then
suddenly, while still preaching, he stepped down from the pulpit, his full
weight causing a stirring of the dust on the floor. He hastily moved toward the
place where the dead woman was lying. The people cluttering the aisles parted
to make a path for him. |
Suddenly,
he stopped several feet away, and with his left hand raised to heaven, his
right hand thrust forward, his forefinger pointed at the woman, and with a
voice that seemed to shake the very rafters, he thundered, "I say unto
you, in the name of Jesus, rise up and walk." |
Excitement,
mixed with disbelief, caused a murmur to ripple throughout the crowd at his
bold command. |
Suddenly,
before our very eyes, the quickening power of God began to bring life back
into the seemingly lifeless form. As movement was detected, frightened
children clung to their awestricken parents. Tears streamed down the faces of
both saints and sinners as sinners knelt to pray and saints began to rejoice
while the woman stood to her feet. |
So much
dancing and rejoicing took place that I could no longer see anything else
from my short height. |
Needless to
say, a revival broke forth that lasted for some time to come, and it spread
across the countryside and won many souls to the |
Such was
my heritage. |
|
From: THE
MIRACLE OF MURLIN HEIGHTS by Clifton E. Snodgrass, pag. 31-39, Whitaker House
1976, |