Have you ever taken a serious look at yourself and asked, "Why does that bother me?" - or - "Why do I have that reaction, those feelings when I experience this? Why does it still trouble me?" Well, while I am not on a psychotherapy kick nor am I ghost hunting - I have long recognized that there were events from my childhood which still bother me, which still cause reactions in me, today.
We, as adults, often see problems of childhood with our children as trivial, not really serious - we often don't realize that some hurts can go deep. And telling them, "Oh, don't let that bother you" very often does not work. Even as an adult, looking back on personal childhood traumas, it is easy to rationalize, "That happened so long ago, forget about it!" Very often easier said than done.
When I was a young boy, about 10 years old, my mom, brother, and I lived in a small duplex in my hometown, Sheffield, Alabama. My mom really wanted to go to church, to know more about God - but she had one major problem. She could not read nor write. Her mother died when she was an infant - and she was basically raised by her four sisters and a brother. This being the South in the 1920s, many people did not go to school. And her siblings, having only attended a few years themselves - saw no reason to send her to school.
So, she grew into a very attractive woman who was smart, but with no education. Yet, she was intelligent enough to hide her handicap from people. When I was a teenager, my mom decided to teach herself to read and write - but believing that my step-dad did not know, she would not ask him for help. When she could visit my aunt in Tuscumbia, she would ask for help. But that was infrequent. And, my brother and I, being typical teenagers, just did have time to help her.
She purchased a 1st grade reader and began to teach herself. Think about that. If you cannot read nor write - when you look at a page of text - it has to look like Chinese scribbling. Yet, she stubbornly persisted. And by the time I went into the Air Force at 17, she could write letters to me and read my letters. True, her grammar was not the greatest - but she could read and write.
All her life she was always ashamed of her lack of education, even when I tried to tell her what an amazing thing she had accomplished. She, virtually alone, taught herself to read and write! Many times I told her, "Mom, the only other person I know who self-educated himself so well was Abraham Lincoln. That puts you in mighty lofty company."
But, until she passed away in 1994, I was not allowed to tell folks what an amazing mother I had - a woman with such innate intelligence that she could teach herself to read and write.
So, why am I telling you about my mom? Because that, indirectly, led to the trauma which has stayed with me throughout my life. As I said earlier, mom wanted to go to church and take her two boys to church. But because she was afraid someone at church would ask her to read something, she was afraid to go. Oh, she could go out with friends to bars and night clubs - for there, if anyone asked her to read something, she could feign having had one too many drinks - and ask them to read it for her. But that would not work in church.
Yet that did not stop her from sending my brother and me to church. The nearest church to our home was the Nazarene church two blocks away. So every Sunday she would get us all cleaned up and send us off to Sunday School. And we kind of liked the Sunday School classes, even though in hindsight, I realize that those people teaching us were most likely far from qualified. After Sunday School when everyone would go upstairs to the sanctuary for the worship service, Bob and I would take off.
When I was about 11 years old, mom married my step-dad, Russell Arthur, a World War 2 vet and a really nice guy. By this time my brother and I were going with friends to the First Baptist church and later hanging out with friends. With my step-dad, mom could go to Wednesday night services at the Nazarene church because she could just mix in with the crowd with no danger of anyone asking her to read.
Then, the fateful day arrived. The Nazarene church was having a Wednesday Night Revival Meeting and had a traveling revival preacher as the main speaker. Keep in mind that many preachers at that time were "seat of the pants" preachers, with no seminary training, little education, and mostly self-taught - but who could give stirring, fiery sermons, designed to make saints out of all we sinners - whatever it took. In later years I have often wondered if they yelled their fiery sermons to cover up for their lack of knowledge and training.
By this time, Bob and I were not attending the Nazarene church at all. But, when mom asked me to go with her and Russell to the Wednesday Night Revival Meeting - I could not say no to her. The Revival Meeting started, the Revival Preacher gets up a full head of steam - and then he announced, "Everyone stand up!" We all stood. Then he told us, "Now, everyone who is saved, sit down." Even though I did not really understand what it meant to "be saved" - I had to figure I was not. So, I remained standing.
Then that fateful declaration, "The rest of you just keep standing there until you decide to come forward and be saved!"
If I had been an adult at that time, I would have given him a one finger wave and walked out. But, being a 12 year old boy, especially in the South, I could not be that disrespectful. So, I had no choice. I had to go forward. And, boy, the spark in that Revival Preacher's eye! Today I can imagine his thoughts at that time, "Hallelujah, here come a young boy and I am going to personally usher him into the family of God!"
I went to the altar and the preacher and several others, maybe elders, the local preacher, etc. - all starting laying hands on me, praying loudly and shouting hallelujahs - and, yes, I got caught up in that emotion and thought I was saved, whatever that meant. Not that evening, nor at any other time back then - did anyone bother to explain to me what it meant to "be saved." In hindsight, I would suggest that I was just one more number, another supposedly saved soul, on that traveling Revival Preacher's resume - and that is all.
I will admit that I felt something when I left the church - but now I see that it was only emotions. That night I went home, a saved person, right? Wrong! And laying in bed that night - this preteen boy began to have carnal thoughts about girls at my school. Whoa! How could that happen? I was saved tonight, right? No, you were hustled.
And, that night my self-esteem, my self-image, went right down the drain. Boy, I was really a lost sinner now - for I had been saved tonight (whatever that meant) - and here I was having such carnal thoughts. I was hopeless.
That mindset stayed with me as I finished high school and went into the Air Force. I had one possible avenue out of sure destruction. I had to find a church which would tell me there is no hell. If there is no hell - then why worry? That became my quest - to find that church. And, I did. When I was 20 years old, I was stationed at Bergstrom Air Force Base in Austin, Texas - and I found a chaplain from a major Protestant denomination who assured me, "Hell is only a myth." Praise the Lord! Now I can continue to live my carnal life and not have to worry about hell.
Yet, down deep, I really knew that was not true. But, on the surface, it at least gave me a way to cover up my guilt as I continued my worldly lifestyle. That persisted until I was 50 years old, when I met a man of God named Pastor Sam Lacanienta. He began to teach me the real Truth - and he and that Irvine congregation loved me all the way to the cross. In our interactive Bible study discussions, and at church, he taught me about God and what it meant to be a true believer. And, in 1987, at the age of 50 I became a born-again believer.
Yet, because of that Nazarene Revival Preacher when I was 12 years old - I still have a strong negative reaction when Pentecostal preachers like TD Jakes, Benny Hinn, Creflo Dollar, and other television preachers start stomping their feet, pounding on the pulpit, and yelling their sermon - instead of just conversationally sharing the Gospel to me. That is how Pastor Sam led me to the Lord, through talking with me in his sermons and Bible studies about Jesus Christ. If Pastor Sam had been another fiery TD Jakes style preacher - most likely today I would not be a Christian believer.
After spending a large part of my life in computer industry field service, sales, and marketing, I have learned a few things about selling. The first thing I learned is that you want the potential customer to be at ease with you, to be comfortable, to feel like you are a friend talking with him. That way, he/she is more receptive to the information you are sharing.
And, sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ is a form of selling. A person can be selling a physical product, i.e., car, computer, etc. - or a person can be selling a concept or a belief. That belief can be the Gospel, or it can be the advantages of a new smart phone. The principal behind the sales effort is effectively the same - you want the person to believe you and to be comfortable hearing about your product.
NO, I am not suggesting a "feel good" church or sermon - leaving out the parts that could make folks uncomfortable. Doing that is to do a great disservice to people who need to know Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. People need to know that hell is a real place and is the only alternative to eternal life in heaven.
What I am suggesting is that folks like TD Jakes who "yell" the Gospel at folks - can often drive people away from Christ. Just as that Revival Preacher drove 12 year old Bill Gray away from God until I was 50 years old. We all know what would have happened if I had died before I was saved at fifty. If so, would I have been another number in that Revival Preachers heavenly tally sheet?
Would YOU be comfortable talking with a salesperson - if that person started yelling at you?
If you went into a car dealership, knowing you need a new car - and the salesperson starts pounding the table, stomping his foot, and yelling at you - how would you react? If that salesperson demanded that you sit down, put away your smart phone, and listen to his full message - would you? No, I am sure that most folks would do as I, in hindsight, wish I had done to that Revival Preacher all those years ago - give a one finger salute and leave.
Because of that Revival Preacher when I was 12 years old - to this day I cannot call anyone "preacher." I have many pastor Friends, many solid Bible teaching Friends - and I call them pastor, teacher, brother - but never preacher. Why? In my mind (with that 12 year old boy still wandering around in there) you can either preach at me - or you can teach me. While I love having knowledgeable folks teach me - do it by talking to me, not preaching at me.
Sharing the Gospel, to me, is teaching and not preaching. Yet, many times over the years on forums, etc., I have had people say to me, "Bill, stop preaching at us! Stop hitting us over the head with your Bible!" And, I suppose that, to a non-believer, any mention of Jesus Christ, salvation, the Bible, etc., is preaching and Bible slamming.
If we are to be effective witnesses, we will always face those types of accusations from non-believers. I have one long time (fifty years) dear Friend on Facebook who told me, "Bill, why are you always quoting the Bible in your posts? Why can't you answer without the Bible?"
And, I responded to her, "Thank you for noticing that my first authority is always the Bible. And, in a post when the Bible is the best answer - why not use it?"
Yet, I will admit that we do have to be careful when sharing with non-believers - for we do NOT want to make them feel that we are beating them over the head with our Bible. Such relationships call for sensitivity and timing. Many times our witness to them will need to be only our Christ-like love for a while. I have a Friend who is a missionary to a Muslim community where he cannot share the Bible or the elders will ban him from their community. In that case, his witness is his Godly love and his willingness to help them with daily needs.
How is your witness? Are you comfortable "talking" with a non-believing friend or family member about Jesus Christ and His eternal life-giving Gospel? Can you effectively share the Biblical doctrines your church believes and teaches? Maybe this PowerPoint video I made in 2009 will help you. I made it to begin a Sunday School class in our new church plant. Please feel free to use it and to share it.
I pray that my personal testimony has been helpful to you. Please feel free to share it with all your FRANs (Friends, Relatives, Associates, Neighbors). Our goal is to bring more folks into the Family of God. Let's do it by taking their hand and guiding them - not by trying to shove them. Just a thought!
God bless, have a wonderful, blessed day,
Bill
We, as adults, often see problems of childhood with our children as trivial, not really serious - we often don't realize that some hurts can go deep. And telling them, "Oh, don't let that bother you" very often does not work. Even as an adult, looking back on personal childhood traumas, it is easy to rationalize, "That happened so long ago, forget about it!" Very often easier said than done.
When I was a young boy, about 10 years old, my mom, brother, and I lived in a small duplex in my hometown, Sheffield, Alabama. My mom really wanted to go to church, to know more about God - but she had one major problem. She could not read nor write. Her mother died when she was an infant - and she was basically raised by her four sisters and a brother. This being the South in the 1920s, many people did not go to school. And her siblings, having only attended a few years themselves - saw no reason to send her to school.
So, she grew into a very attractive woman who was smart, but with no education. Yet, she was intelligent enough to hide her handicap from people. When I was a teenager, my mom decided to teach herself to read and write - but believing that my step-dad did not know, she would not ask him for help. When she could visit my aunt in Tuscumbia, she would ask for help. But that was infrequent. And, my brother and I, being typical teenagers, just did have time to help her.
She purchased a 1st grade reader and began to teach herself. Think about that. If you cannot read nor write - when you look at a page of text - it has to look like Chinese scribbling. Yet, she stubbornly persisted. And by the time I went into the Air Force at 17, she could write letters to me and read my letters. True, her grammar was not the greatest - but she could read and write.
All her life she was always ashamed of her lack of education, even when I tried to tell her what an amazing thing she had accomplished. She, virtually alone, taught herself to read and write! Many times I told her, "Mom, the only other person I know who self-educated himself so well was Abraham Lincoln. That puts you in mighty lofty company."
But, until she passed away in 1994, I was not allowed to tell folks what an amazing mother I had - a woman with such innate intelligence that she could teach herself to read and write.
So, why am I telling you about my mom? Because that, indirectly, led to the trauma which has stayed with me throughout my life. As I said earlier, mom wanted to go to church and take her two boys to church. But because she was afraid someone at church would ask her to read something, she was afraid to go. Oh, she could go out with friends to bars and night clubs - for there, if anyone asked her to read something, she could feign having had one too many drinks - and ask them to read it for her. But that would not work in church.
Yet that did not stop her from sending my brother and me to church. The nearest church to our home was the Nazarene church two blocks away. So every Sunday she would get us all cleaned up and send us off to Sunday School. And we kind of liked the Sunday School classes, even though in hindsight, I realize that those people teaching us were most likely far from qualified. After Sunday School when everyone would go upstairs to the sanctuary for the worship service, Bob and I would take off.
When I was about 11 years old, mom married my step-dad, Russell Arthur, a World War 2 vet and a really nice guy. By this time my brother and I were going with friends to the First Baptist church and later hanging out with friends. With my step-dad, mom could go to Wednesday night services at the Nazarene church because she could just mix in with the crowd with no danger of anyone asking her to read.
Then, the fateful day arrived. The Nazarene church was having a Wednesday Night Revival Meeting and had a traveling revival preacher as the main speaker. Keep in mind that many preachers at that time were "seat of the pants" preachers, with no seminary training, little education, and mostly self-taught - but who could give stirring, fiery sermons, designed to make saints out of all we sinners - whatever it took. In later years I have often wondered if they yelled their fiery sermons to cover up for their lack of knowledge and training.
By this time, Bob and I were not attending the Nazarene church at all. But, when mom asked me to go with her and Russell to the Wednesday Night Revival Meeting - I could not say no to her. The Revival Meeting started, the Revival Preacher gets up a full head of steam - and then he announced, "Everyone stand up!" We all stood. Then he told us, "Now, everyone who is saved, sit down." Even though I did not really understand what it meant to "be saved" - I had to figure I was not. So, I remained standing.
Then that fateful declaration, "The rest of you just keep standing there until you decide to come forward and be saved!"
If I had been an adult at that time, I would have given him a one finger wave and walked out. But, being a 12 year old boy, especially in the South, I could not be that disrespectful. So, I had no choice. I had to go forward. And, boy, the spark in that Revival Preacher's eye! Today I can imagine his thoughts at that time, "Hallelujah, here come a young boy and I am going to personally usher him into the family of God!"
I went to the altar and the preacher and several others, maybe elders, the local preacher, etc. - all starting laying hands on me, praying loudly and shouting hallelujahs - and, yes, I got caught up in that emotion and thought I was saved, whatever that meant. Not that evening, nor at any other time back then - did anyone bother to explain to me what it meant to "be saved." In hindsight, I would suggest that I was just one more number, another supposedly saved soul, on that traveling Revival Preacher's resume - and that is all.
I will admit that I felt something when I left the church - but now I see that it was only emotions. That night I went home, a saved person, right? Wrong! And laying in bed that night - this preteen boy began to have carnal thoughts about girls at my school. Whoa! How could that happen? I was saved tonight, right? No, you were hustled.
And, that night my self-esteem, my self-image, went right down the drain. Boy, I was really a lost sinner now - for I had been saved tonight (whatever that meant) - and here I was having such carnal thoughts. I was hopeless.
That mindset stayed with me as I finished high school and went into the Air Force. I had one possible avenue out of sure destruction. I had to find a church which would tell me there is no hell. If there is no hell - then why worry? That became my quest - to find that church. And, I did. When I was 20 years old, I was stationed at Bergstrom Air Force Base in Austin, Texas - and I found a chaplain from a major Protestant denomination who assured me, "Hell is only a myth." Praise the Lord! Now I can continue to live my carnal life and not have to worry about hell.
Yet, down deep, I really knew that was not true. But, on the surface, it at least gave me a way to cover up my guilt as I continued my worldly lifestyle. That persisted until I was 50 years old, when I met a man of God named Pastor Sam Lacanienta. He began to teach me the real Truth - and he and that Irvine congregation loved me all the way to the cross. In our interactive Bible study discussions, and at church, he taught me about God and what it meant to be a true believer. And, in 1987, at the age of 50 I became a born-again believer.
Yet, because of that Nazarene Revival Preacher when I was 12 years old - I still have a strong negative reaction when Pentecostal preachers like TD Jakes, Benny Hinn, Creflo Dollar, and other television preachers start stomping their feet, pounding on the pulpit, and yelling their sermon - instead of just conversationally sharing the Gospel to me. That is how Pastor Sam led me to the Lord, through talking with me in his sermons and Bible studies about Jesus Christ. If Pastor Sam had been another fiery TD Jakes style preacher - most likely today I would not be a Christian believer.
After spending a large part of my life in computer industry field service, sales, and marketing, I have learned a few things about selling. The first thing I learned is that you want the potential customer to be at ease with you, to be comfortable, to feel like you are a friend talking with him. That way, he/she is more receptive to the information you are sharing.
And, sharing the Gospel of Jesus Christ is a form of selling. A person can be selling a physical product, i.e., car, computer, etc. - or a person can be selling a concept or a belief. That belief can be the Gospel, or it can be the advantages of a new smart phone. The principal behind the sales effort is effectively the same - you want the person to believe you and to be comfortable hearing about your product.
NO, I am not suggesting a "feel good" church or sermon - leaving out the parts that could make folks uncomfortable. Doing that is to do a great disservice to people who need to know Jesus Christ as Lord and Savior. People need to know that hell is a real place and is the only alternative to eternal life in heaven.
What I am suggesting is that folks like TD Jakes who "yell" the Gospel at folks - can often drive people away from Christ. Just as that Revival Preacher drove 12 year old Bill Gray away from God until I was 50 years old. We all know what would have happened if I had died before I was saved at fifty. If so, would I have been another number in that Revival Preachers heavenly tally sheet?
Would YOU be comfortable talking with a salesperson - if that person started yelling at you?
If you went into a car dealership, knowing you need a new car - and the salesperson starts pounding the table, stomping his foot, and yelling at you - how would you react? If that salesperson demanded that you sit down, put away your smart phone, and listen to his full message - would you? No, I am sure that most folks would do as I, in hindsight, wish I had done to that Revival Preacher all those years ago - give a one finger salute and leave.
Because of that Revival Preacher when I was 12 years old - to this day I cannot call anyone "preacher." I have many pastor Friends, many solid Bible teaching Friends - and I call them pastor, teacher, brother - but never preacher. Why? In my mind (with that 12 year old boy still wandering around in there) you can either preach at me - or you can teach me. While I love having knowledgeable folks teach me - do it by talking to me, not preaching at me.
Sharing the Gospel, to me, is teaching and not preaching. Yet, many times over the years on forums, etc., I have had people say to me, "Bill, stop preaching at us! Stop hitting us over the head with your Bible!" And, I suppose that, to a non-believer, any mention of Jesus Christ, salvation, the Bible, etc., is preaching and Bible slamming.
If we are to be effective witnesses, we will always face those types of accusations from non-believers. I have one long time (fifty years) dear Friend on Facebook who told me, "Bill, why are you always quoting the Bible in your posts? Why can't you answer without the Bible?"
And, I responded to her, "Thank you for noticing that my first authority is always the Bible. And, in a post when the Bible is the best answer - why not use it?"
Yet, I will admit that we do have to be careful when sharing with non-believers - for we do NOT want to make them feel that we are beating them over the head with our Bible. Such relationships call for sensitivity and timing. Many times our witness to them will need to be only our Christ-like love for a while. I have a Friend who is a missionary to a Muslim community where he cannot share the Bible or the elders will ban him from their community. In that case, his witness is his Godly love and his willingness to help them with daily needs.
How is your witness? Are you comfortable "talking" with a non-believing friend or family member about Jesus Christ and His eternal life-giving Gospel? Can you effectively share the Biblical doctrines your church believes and teaches? Maybe this PowerPoint video I made in 2009 will help you. I made it to begin a Sunday School class in our new church plant. Please feel free to use it and to share it.
WHAT WE BELIEVE - Our Statement Of Faith - Revised October 11, 2016 (8-18-17 HD)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VC619qohBjc
I pray that my personal testimony has been helpful to you. Please feel free to share it with all your FRANs (Friends, Relatives, Associates, Neighbors). Our goal is to bring more folks into the Family of God. Let's do it by taking their hand and guiding them - not by trying to shove them. Just a thought!
God bless, have a wonderful, blessed day,
Bill
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