Meeting the Blind Hymn Writer of "Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

Ago, I met the lady who wrote that chorus and the hymn. Did you know she was blind? She was blind. She wrote "Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus." There are so many young people here tonight, I thought I would take just a few moments to share with them, especially because I was a teenager when I was baptized. It meant a lot to me. I wanted to do something for the Lord, so I started to go to Christian Endeavor meetings.

First, one day I went to a friend of mine. Jim Wilkinson was his name. I said, "Jim, can you preach?" He said, "No, can you?" Well, I said, "I've read a paper in the Christian Endeavor." He said, "I've read a paper too, but who would ask us to preach?" Oh, I said, "We can take care of that. Let's start in the open air. I'll invite you, then you can invite me." He asked, "How do you get a crowd?"

Did you know that my career began as a musician? I played a ukulele, just a tiny little ukulele, but my friend Wilkinson couldn't sing in tune. He would always sing an octave lower in H flat. We never struck the same note together, but we always gathered a crowd of Irish music lovers. Then I stood on the edge of the sidewalk and preached. You say, if you'd never preached before, how could you preach? I'll give this as a word of advice to any aspiring young preacher: never try to preach beyond your experience. My mother led me to Christ when I was just nine. The verse she used was, "He was wounded for our transgressions," from Isaiah. So I preached on that. It meant something to me.

Then we had another musical number with the ukulele and the basso profondo, and some moved on while others joined the crowd. Then Jim took his turn to preach. We got such a blessing out of it, we decided to form a band of 24 young men to do this kind of work once a week. We decided not to let any girls join our group; we didn't want to be driven to distraction. So we started that way.

Well, I remember I was still a teenager when one of the fellows, as we always had prayer before we started out, said, "Does God really answer prayer, or is it just coincidence?" I said, "Well, why don't we try and find out?" He said, "How would you find out?" I said, "Let's keep a record." So I got a notebook and opened it, and ruled down a line. On one side of the page, we wrote the date and the thing for which we prayed. We left a space for the answer and the date on the other page. This was a real practical test.

I still remember the first request. I said, "Fellows, there are 24 of us now, and my ukulele is no good. I just strike a chord, and nobody hears it after that; it's so quiet. Let's pray for a banjo mandolin or a piano accordion or something like that." So we wrote that down. Three days later, I had a phone call. A fellow said, "This is Bert Bradley." I said, "Do I know you?" He said, "I've just come to the city from the country. I'm a bank clerk. I'm a friend of Sidney Murray. He told me you're having open-air meetings. Could I help?" Well, I asked, "Can you do anything? It's no good taking along extra baggage, you know." Well, he said, "To tell you the truth, I'm not much good at public speaking. I can't even give my testimony without getting mixed up, but I play a banjo mandolin. If that'll help you, I'll help you in your music." There was our answer to prayer.

We kept a record like that for a year, and I discovered that God had answered, not always yes. I remember once we prayed that it wouldn't rain. It came down in sheets of rain, but we were forced to take shelter in a little Presbyterian church where they had a struggling midweek service. For at least 20 young fellows to come in and help take over, that pastor was really encouraged, so we were glad it rained that night. It was all in the Lord's purpose.

The head of a big organization in London heard of what I was doing. Now, I'd been six years in business. I worked in the office of a large bakery concern. My heart was in the preaching ministry, but my stomach was in the bakery, of course. But this man heard of what I was doing and offered me a salary to do this kind of work under the auspices of their organization all over the world. I was delighted. Just think of somebody paying me for what I wanted to do! He told me he'd give me enough money to support my mother. I was the only support of the home. My mother was a widow. I told you my father was dead, my brother was dead, my sister was ill, and I was the only support of the home.

So I went straight back to my home city and told Mother and told others that I was going to leave home to do this kind of work. They all congratulated me. One man said, "God has opened a door for you." But the day after I gave up my job, my friend in London wrote me a letter to say he had to go to India and China and Japan, right around the world for missionary conferences. He was going to be away for about a year. His committee wouldn't be responsible for me while he was away, so he told me to go back to work again.

I could have gotten my job back. It was much easier to give me back my job than train somebody else for it. But the more I prayed about it, the more I felt God was calling me to this work. So I told my friends that I was going to start out by faith. But why would you dare do this? It was during the Depression. You youngsters don't know what it was like during the Depression. People were starving. There was no social security, no unemployment insurance. There were soup kitchens and bread lines. This was during the Depression. They all told me I was crazy.

I still remember one man who was the exception. I remember him with gratitude. His name was Sidney Murray. He said he didn't know whether I was crazy or not. All the others thought I was. Mother said, "What's going to happen to us in the meantime?" I said, "Mother, I'll send you the usual amount of money each week." "I know you'll try, but where will you get it?" Now, I wasn't an evangelist traveling around holding weeks of meetings. I'd never held a week of meetings in my life. I was just a youth speaker, you know, speaking at young people's meetings occasionally.

So I started out. I gave all the money I possessed to my mother, and I started out. I arrived in Liverpool with two shillings and eight pence, which in those days was 65 cents. Now, of course, money went further in those days than now, but even so, 65 cents wouldn't take you very far. I had a bicycle, a change of clothes, and a Bible. The only friend I had within 150 miles of Liverpool was a Roman Catholic Scoutmaster whom I had met at a jamboree. I was a senior Scout, so I went to see him. He said, "Where are you going to sleep at night?" I said, "In bed." He said, "Very funny. Where are you going to get your next meal?" I said, "I don't know where I'll get it, but I know where I'll put it." I wasn't feeling quite as cheerful as that. It was like whistling in the dark, you know, keeping up a brave front, as it were.

There I was in a strange country, England. I'd never been in England except once for a short vacation. He said, "What are you going to do?" I said, "I'm going to do evangelism." He said, "What's an evangelist?" You see, in the Roman Catholic Church, there are only four evangelists: Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John. They talk of Matthew the evangelist and Mark the evangelist and so on. Well, I said, "An evangelist is one who travels with the Gospel." But he said, "In the Catholic Church, when a man has a vocation for the priesthood, we send him to a theological college. I thought Protestants did the same." I said, "So they do." Then he asked, "Why are you doing it differently?" I said, "I feel called."

He offered to lend me enough money to go home on the next ship to Ireland, but I said, "Frank, I don't want to borrow your money. As the scripture says, 'My God shall supply all your need.' If that's true, I can depend upon it, but if it's not true, the sooner I find out, the better." So I started on my bicycle on a journey that was to take me all around the world.

When I reached Chester, an old English city with a wall around it, it began to rain heavily. So I prayed that I might reach Shrewsbury, about 40 miles south, without getting wet. Now, you'd agree that you couldn't cycle 40 miles in the rain and not get wet. I was very thin in those days, but even so, I couldn't do that. But I got to Shrewsbury without getting wet, and yet it rained all the way. Now, most American kids say, "Did you hitchhike?" Hitchhiking was unknown over there. It wasn't until the GIs went over during the war and showed the limeys how to do it that they knew what hitchhiking was. In 1933, if you'd stood in the road in England with your thumb out like that, they would have thought you had a sore thumb. So I didn't hitchhike.

But this lorry driver—truck driver, they call them lorries over there—this truck driver shouted, "Hello there!" in such a friendly way, I knew he must have made a mistake. English people don't speak to strangers. I used to think they were snooty, but they're not. They're reserved. They're shy. They just don't speak to strangers. So I wheeled my bicycle over. I said, "Did you mistake me for someone?" "Oh yeah," he said, "I thought you were a friend of mine called Burt Cook." I said, "That's funny. I have a friend called Burt Cook too." He said, "But you're not English." I said, "No, I'm from Ireland." He said, "I knew you were a foreigner as soon as you opened your mouth." Then he said, "You wouldn't know the Burt Cook that I know because he was English." I said, "I was in England once before just for a short holiday, and I met this Burt Cook. Herbert J. Cook was his name, in Northampton. He was studying for the Methodist ministry." He looked at me in amazement. He said, "Blimey, mate, it's the same bloke!" He said, "Where are you headed for?" I said, "London." He said, "Not tonight." I said, "No, it'll take me three days on a bicycle." "How'd you like to ride with me?" I said, "Are you going to London?" "No, no, I'm going down the other way to Cardiff, but I could take you as far as Wellington." So I said, "Where's Wellington?" He said, "That's near Shrewsbury." I was praying that I might get to Shrewsbury without getting wet.

I still remember it as if it were yesterday: the narrow winding roads. They do have motorways now, but they didn't then. Narrow winding roads, and he was driving this big truck around the bends, and I was witnessing to him about Christ. Finally, he said, "Well, Mr."

Orr, they're a little more formal over there. They give you your title, you know. Well, Mr. Orr, he said, if I were to be converted right now, he said, how do I go about it? I said, you pray, and I explained the way of salvation. We drove around another bend. He said, if I pray right now, am I supposed to close my eyes? I said, keep your eyes open, and the Lord will understand. He got converted with his eyes open.

I arrived in Shrewsbury. It was 11 o'clock at night. I had nowhere to stay. However, the Salvation Army over there in those days had working men's hostels where you could get a bed for a dime, something like sixpence it was. I thought that'd be something in my line. I had much less than 65 cents now, so I stopped a policeman. You can picture an English Bobby. I stopped him and I said, could you tell me where I could get cheap accommodation for the night? He looked me up and down. He said, what do you do for a living?

Now, I knew exactly what was in his mind. During the Depression, they arrested people out of work as vagrants because they were tempted to steal and so forth. They made them work in some kind of workhouse or something like that and then let them go again. What do you do for a living? Now, what could I say? I couldn't say I was a clergyman; I'd not been ordained. I'd been a bookkeeper, but I wasn't a traveling bookkeeper, so I said, I'm an evangelist. He said, you don't look like an evangelist to me. Well, I said, what's an evangelist supposed to look like?

Well, now, of course, everyone tries to look like Billy Graham, but in those days we didn't have a pattern. So I said, what's an evangelist? Well, he said, you're very young. I said, I'm 21. What is that, young for an evangelist? How long have you been an evangelist? I said, just a little while. He said, well, how long have you been an evangelist? I said, not very long. He said, I have reasons for asking. How long have you been an evangelist? Well, I said, sir, if you must be technical, I started at eight o'clock this morning.

He said, do you have anything to show that you're genuine? Now, I had six letters of introduction with me. When my friends heard I was going away, oh, they thought I was crazy. They thought, well, we'll do anything we can to help. I had a letter written by an Episcopal rector, a Presbyterian minister, a Baptist minister, a Methodist minister. The last one of the six was written by an obscure friend of mine who worked in what was called in Dallas a storefront mission. He wasn't well known. I didn't ask him for a letter; he volunteered. I was going to leave it behind, then I thought if he was nice enough to write a letter, I might as well take it with me. It was the nicest and most enthusiastic letter of all.

I thought this policeman in the middle of England wouldn't know anyone in Ireland anyway, so I showed him the letter written by my obscure friend. He read it through, and then he shook hands warmly. He was a converted policeman. He was a deacon in the Shrewsbury Baptist Church, and he was a close friend of the William Philip that wrote that letter in Ireland. He took me home that night. I slept in a feather bed. Next morning, I had two eggs for breakfast.

Frank Nelson, my Roman Catholic friend, said, where are you going to sleep at night? Where are you going to get your next meal? That was my first night. Something clicked. If God can take care of me one day, he can take care of me tomorrow. If the Lord takes care of me this week, he can take care of me next week, this month, next month. You see, when the disciples went to the Lord and said, Lord, increase our faith, he didn't say, very well then, I'll give you a great big ready-made faith. You can put it up on a shelf and admire it, and anytime you need some, reach for it. No, no. He looked for the smallest thing he could find, a grain of mustard seed, and he said, if you have faith this size, you can move mountains.

I learned that lesson. In other words, you use the little faith that you have, and God's way of measuring isn't like ours. You've got only a pint of faith, use it. You find you've got a gallon. You've only got a gallon of faith, use it. You find you've got a tank full. That's the way it works.

And so I roughed it. I slept under a haystack sometimes. I was telling the pastor that when I came to Texas first, I slept all night in the car in Lubbock, but at least I had a car. In those days in England, only a bicycle, but you can put a bicycle under a haystack too. I was cycling in Kent near London when my old bicycle broke down. I discovered I needed new handlebars, a new front fork, new back wheel, new front wheel, new three-speed gear, new crank, new pedals, new tires, new tubes, and several new parts. So I decided to pray for a new bicycle or the money to buy one.

I had to wheel that bicycle 10 miles. Have you ever wheeled a bicycle for 10 miles? You get all twisted to one side, and then you walk on the other side. I was asked to spend the Christmas vacation with an Englishman at a place called Gravesend. By the time I got there, walking and wheeling, I was late for supper. They'd gone out to a meeting, but they left the back door unlatched, and I let myself in. There was a note on the table: make yourself at home, and there was some food under a nice little cloth.

Now, I was praying for a new bicycle, and the answer to prayer came so unexpectedly. A Baptist church, the Baptist pastor on the other side of the River Thames in Essex, had suddenly taken ill. His deacons were in desperation trying to get another preacher to take his place two days before Christmas. Most people have made their arrangements for Christmas in advance. They called this one, that one, and they said, sorry, we've other arrangements. I don't know how they got my name. I certainly don't know how they got my address, but they called me long distance and asked me if I'd come and preach the Christmas sermons in that church. I told the deacon on the phone, but you don't know anything about me. He said, Mr.

Don't be offended, but we're so hard up we take anybody. I preached in that church; nobody knew that I needed a new bicycle. But another man came up to me after the meeting. To make a long story short, he wanted to know if I would be offended if he offered me a Christmas present—a bicycle that he had custom-built in Coventry, the best bicycle built in the world at that time. It was a hand ball-bearing, beautiful machine. Of course, I said, "What makes you offer it to me?" I had no intention of refusing it; it's just unusual. I wonder how many times Pastor McDonald has been offered a bicycle after a meeting. So I said, "What makes you offer it to me?"

He flushed; he was embarrassed. English people are much more sensitive, you know. There is a difference in national temperament. An Englishman's always afraid of making a fool of himself, so he's very careful what he says. An Irishman doesn't care whether he makes a fool of himself or not, so he doesn't care what he says. An American doesn't realize when he's making a fool of himself. So he got red in the face and explained that his father died and left him some money. He bought a car and couldn't be bothered with the bicycle anymore, although it was the best bicycle in the country. He hung it up in the shed, but he said, "If you'll accept it, I'll be glad to give it to you," and he put on new tires. I really enjoyed riding that bicycle; it was a super centaur. I remember once, even though we find this hard to believe, that in Hertfordshire I had come down a hill and I'd worked up speed and I passed a car. The man speeded up and shouted to me, "You were doing 35!"

Well, I don't want to take all evening telling you that was just my first few weeks of adventures. Maybe I'll tell you one more story. I was on my way to Soviet Russia. Someone, when I wrote my first book, said it's easy for things like that to happen in a Christian country like England, where people are kind-hearted. I thought, well, if I were to go to Russia, where it's not a Christian country, that would shut them up. I traveled all the way to Moscow and Leningrad and back again. But I was in Copenhagen, Denmark. I arrived there with just one dollar, five Danish kroner, five crowns. I didn't know anyone in the whole of Denmark, but someone had told me there was a fine Lutheran layman, a businessman who knew all the Lutheran churches and the free churches. Get in touch with him; if he takes a liking to you, he'll arrange meetings for you.

I looked him up in the phone book. His name was Sorensen, and to my dismay, I discovered that Sorensen was the commonest Danish name, just like Smith in English-speaking countries. I used to wonder, by the way, where all the Smiths came from, but I found out in Toronto. By the way, I was talking to Dr. Paul Smith of the People's Church in Toronto this afternoon. His father was Oswald Smith, and I was preaching for Oswald Smith, and I discovered where all the Smiths came from. Down near the Union Depot on Front Street, there was a big sign that said "The Smith Manufacturing Company." There must have been a Sorensen Manufacturing Company in Copenhagen because there were pages of Smiths, four columns to a page.

Now, could you imagine someone from, say, Bolivia arriving in Dallas and speaking to a policeman saying, "I'm looking for a man called Smith." What would the policeman say? He'd say, "Well, what initials?" "Well, I don't know the initials." Well, the policeman would say, "I give up. I mean, you look in the telephone directory, all the Smiths." So I found pages of Sorensens, and I thought, now can't I remember anything else about him? Oh, it came back to me. You know the way when you think a little bit, it comes back. His name was Nils, N-I-L-S. So I went back to the phone book. There were only five Nils Sorensens. I thought, well, I'm not going to phone; with only a dollar, you're not going to waste a nickel on the phone. So I thought, well, now this is the first I've all day, nothing to do. I had nowhere to go and eat, just a dollar on me. But I walked to the first address, to Kleinsgade, a little street with an apartment block. I went upstairs, found the name Sorensen, rang the bell. A lady came to the door. I began in my very best Danish, "Verse a snealer her Sorensen her," if you please, is Mr. Sorensen here?

She replied in Danish, but her Danish was quite different from my Danish. Now, don't be too severe on me; I'd only been there two or three hours and didn't speak the language very fluently. So I asked for the second time. I made a little variation. I said, "Is Mr. Sorensen at home?" She just repeated the same thing over again. I was going to close the door on her. I was going to ask her the third time; she closed the door on me. Now, you know it's useless to argue with a lady; she always gets the last word. But if you don't understand the last word, it's humiliating. I don't know what she was saying; she may have been saying, "I've told you already," and just closed the door.

I went down the stairs, and suddenly she opened the door and called me back. She went into the house and came out again with a red-covered book in her hand. It was my first book, published in England only three weeks before, published in English, which she couldn't understand. She said, "Photograph dee dee." I replied in faultless Danish, "Ya ya ya ya ya." She talked to me in Danish; I couldn't understand her. I talked in English, and she couldn't understand me. So she telephoned her husband. He spoke business English. He said, "Mr. Orr, this sounds incredible." I said, "What does?" He said, "Miss Anna Christensen, one of our Danish lady missionaries in the China Inland Mission, sent me your book just last week and told us to pray that you would come to Denmark. I read your book; I enjoyed it. I thought it'd be wonderful if you come and stir up our young people. I prayed that you would come, but I did not expect you would come so quickly, and now you telephoned me from my own house. Let me talk to my wife again."

So I called her over, and she talked in Danish. She laughed a lot; I didn't know what she was laughing about, but then she gave me the phone. He said, "My wife has asked you if you will stay for supper." But he said, "You don't seem to understand; stay for lunch." It was so. I stayed for lunch and then came back for supper. I was hoping they'd put me up for the night as well, but they were a married couple without children. They had a utility apartment right downtown, and so they didn't ask me to stay. However, they took me along to a meeting in the Technical Institute ballroom, and I preached to 500 people. I remembered it as if it were yesterday. Ten after ten, the meeting was over. I stepped outside; it was bitterly cold, it was below zero. Sorensen said, "Well, brother, that was splendid. Now I want you to do me a favor." I said, "What is that?" He said, "I want you to change your hotel." I said, "What for?" I should have said, "What with?" Well, he said, "Down by the City Hall, there's an excellent Christian hotel run by Christian management, and they give special discounts to preachers. So I will go with you to the hotel where you're staying to apologize for you." I said, "You better wait here; I'll get my own baggage." I'd left my suitcase in a little candy store. "Well," he said, "you weren't long." I said, "No, no trouble." He said, "No, you mean they weren't disappointed you did not sleep there for the night?" "Apparently not," he said. "Let me carry your bag." He said, "Of course, you understand, while you're in Denmark, you'll be my guest." That was good news because I didn't have the money to pay for the hotel. He introduced me to the booking clerk and said, "Now, good night, Mr. Orr. I'll come for you tomorrow morning at 10 o'clock. I must open my mail at the office first." The clerk, in the meantime, went down the list of rooms and said, "I'm sorry, Mr."

Orr, we don't have a single room in the house. I was back to square one. Oh, he said, don't misunderstand. We have double rooms, we have family apartments, we have suites of rooms, but they're more expensive. He said, but CERN is such a good friend of ours, we'd be glad to let you have the more expensive room for the cheaper price. Come upstairs. I followed him along the corridor. He opened the door, switched on the light. There was a big family apartment. Now, I've been praying for a bed, but there was a grand piano and a reading desk and a writing lamp, a writing desk, a reading lamp in it, a sofa, and four chairs and four beds. He said to me, you can sleep in them turned about if you like. We charge the same price. He thought that was a joke, but I didn't. I slept in all four beds that night.

That's the way it went all the way into Soviet Russia, but I could take a week of meetings to tell you about adventures in other countries. That all happened during the Depression, and I found those little books of mine were a great encouragement to people who were really hard up, wondering if God did answer prayer. Yes, he answers prayer. Well, I didn't mean to take all that time, but when I saw that youth choir and heard them sing so well, I thought I'd share this with them.

And now I want to talk to you very briefly, my last message in the series on living the Christian life. Our Lord Jesus himself told his disciples, nevertheless, I'm telling you the truth, it is to your advantage that I go away. For if I do not go away, the counselor will not come to you, but if I go, I will send him to you. And when he comes, he will convince the world of sin and of righteousness and of judgment: of sin because they do not believe in me, of righteousness because I go to my Father and you will see me no more, of judgment because the ruler of this world is judged.

I want to talk to you about the counselor, the comforter. That's a strange word, the comforter. It doesn't mean what we mean today. It's a Latin word, con, with, fort, strength, the strengthener. The Greek word is paraclete, the one who stands alongside to help. I'll give you a really good illustration: a co-pilot. If you, if I don't go away, the co-pilot cannot come to you, but if I go, I will send him to you. And when he is come, he will convince the world of sin, he'll guide you into all truth, and he'll glorify me. So there we have the work of the Holy Spirit.

Now, I have to hurry through. Every true believer is born again by the Spirit of God. This seems to be very clear. John chapter 3, we're born of the Spirit. This experience they talk about today, it's a popular phrase in America, being born again, to talk about born again this and born again that. And sometimes when a man goes to jail, they say he's a born-again convict or something like that. But what does it mean to be born again? It means that our whole nature is regenerated by the Spirit of God.

Let me say something further. Every true believer is indwelled by the Spirit of God. Paul said to the Corinthians, don't you know that your bodies are the temple of the Holy Spirit and that God's Spirit dwells within you? And then a word of warning: you do despite to the temple of God, your body, God will deal with you. I say that strongly to young people today: your body is the temple of the Holy Spirit if you're a believer, and don't you ever think of disgracing him in that particular respect. Every true believer is indwelled by the Spirit of God.

There was an old Scottish lady who was asked how she knew she was truly a Christian. She said, it's better felt than telt, that Scottish dialect, better felt than telt. And the teaching of the epistle of the Romans is that every true believer is assured by the Spirit of God. The Spirit bears witness with our spirit that we're children of God. You know in your soul, he tells you.

I remember when one of my boys was a tiny little fellow. He was born in Oxford, and I remember he came running in, playing with some other children outside. He was upset about something they said to his mother. "Mama, Billy says that I'm not your little boy." My wife said, "Such nonsense." He says, "Billy says that you and Daddy found me in a garbage pail." My wife said, "He's just teasing you, take no notice." I was typing in the front room; she was in the kitchen talking to him. Then he says, "Mama, how do you know I'm your little boy?" I thought, this is interesting. I stopped typing. My wife said, "I was there when you were born." That satisfied him. The Holy Spirit regenerated you. If you're born of the Spirit, he knows that you're his child, and he tells you.

Every true Christian is sealed by the Spirit of God. I don't know if in your hymn books you have "This hymn book belongs to First Baptist Church Garland" or something like that. Generally, there's a seal. It's a mark of ownership. God puts a mark on you. Every true Christian is guaranteed by the Spirit of God. In the King James Version, it's called an earnest. That's an old banking term; it's a down payment. The Holy Spirit is given to you as a down payment of what's laid up for you in heaven.

Then we come to a controversial term: every true believer is baptized by the Spirit into the body of Christ. Now, the verse of scripture I want to quote is, of course, from Corinthians: for by one Spirit are we all baptized into one body. Every true believer has been baptized into the body of Christ, just as a bricklayer takes a brick, surrounds it with mortar, and places it in a wall, and it becomes part of a wall which is part of a house. It's still a brick, but now it's part of a house. The same way, the Holy Spirit takes each believer and baptizes him into the body of Christ. He's now a member of the body of Christ, and that, of course, is composed of all true believers, not only members of the General Convention of Texas. Every believer is part of the body of Christ.

Now, when I said this is controversial, some people use the term baptism of the Spirit to denote the endowment of power that believers may receive in their service for God, the endowment of power from on high. Sometimes someone comes to you and says, have you received the baptism of the Spirit? I don't quarrel with that use of the term, but I prefer to use the term the filling of the Holy Spirit, the initial filling of the Holy Spirit. It may be renewed time and time again. You might say, well, why do you make that preference? Well, I'll put it this way: anytime the Holy Spirit in the book of the Acts describes a believer having an experience of power, the term used is the term filled or full. All the disciples were filled with the Spirit. Stephen, a man full of the Holy Ghost, full of faith. The term used is full or filled.

The second thing is, nowhere in the scripture does it exhort us to be baptized in the Spirit. You'll find the term is be filled with the Spirit. Now, I recognize that it's quite legitimate to describe the Welsh revival as a mighty baptism of the Holy Spirit when the Holy Spirit was poured out upon all believers. And I know also that people may have a real endowment of power, and if you want to use the term baptism, I don't mind. But the term that the Holy Spirit uses both in the narrative of the Acts and in the epistles is the term filled.

Then there's a third reason. The term baptism of the Spirit is used quite differently by some believers. For instance, in the Salvation Army, when they talk of the baptism of the Spirit, they're referring to the endowment of power. The same thing is true of the Christian Missionary Alliance. The same thing is true of the Assemblies of God. The same thing is true of the charismatic movement, where they use the term baptism of the Spirit for the experience of being endued with power from God. On the other hand, some people say, no, no, the baptism of the Spirit is a baptism of the believer into the body of Christ.

I'd like to point out to you that in the 19th century, nearly everyone used the term baptism of the Spirit, including D.L. Moody and Reuben Torrey and Charles Spurgeon and others like that. But it's my preference to use a term that they all understand. I have spoken in Springfield, Missouri, to the First Assembly of God, the mother church of that denomination, and I spoke of the initial filling of the Holy Spirit. They all knew what I meant. And yet, when I would be speaking, I was speaking on Thursday, was it, in Dallas Theological Seminary. I spoke on the filling of the Holy Spirit, and there were some who said amen. They knew what I meant too. So that's my preference, but as I say, I don't quarrel with people who use the term baptism. I'm more concerned with the experience that people may receive power from on high.

But the last term, you notice I said every true believer is born of the Spirit, indwelled by the Spirit, assured by the Spirit, sealed by the Spirit, guaranteed by the Spirit, and baptized by the Spirit into the body of Christ. But he may or may not be filled with the Holy Spirit because there is an exhortation: but be filled with the Spirit. If everyone were filled with the Spirit as everyone is indwelled by the Spirit, I mean every believer, then the Apostle Paul wouldn't exhort us to be filled.

Now, when I came to the States first and I traveled through the South, I found many Baptist churches that were actually afraid of any teaching about the Holy Spirit. They were scared. I remember visiting a Baptist seminary. I'll not mention where it was, but they treated me with courtesy, but they didn't give me an opportunity to speak to the students. I wondered why. They put me up in the VIP quarters and said, anything we can do for you, but they wouldn't let me meet with the students. I found that some poor fellow about three years before had jumped out of a window, said he was filled with the Spirit, and jumped out of a window and broke both legs. Poor fellow. And so the president of that seminary, when he heard that I was interested in the ministry of the Holy Spirit, he thought, filled with the Holy Spirit, you jump out windows. Some people were actually scared of any reference to the work of the Holy Spirit. Well, that's not true today. More people are in the ministry of the Holy Spirit than ever before.

Well, I want to tell you what it means. This is the key: when a man is converted, remember it doesn't say, Oh God, convert me. It says, repent and be converted. That's something for a man to do, to turn. The word convert means to turn. That's something for us to do. But what does God do when a man repents and is converted? He regenerates him. He's born of the Spirit of God.

Now, on Friday, I spoke on commitment from Romans 12:1: present your body a living sacrifice, give everything you have to God, every department of your life. That's something for man to do. It doesn't say, Oh God, present me. No, no, it says, present your body a living sacrifice. But what does God do with the believer who says, Lord, you can have all of me? He fills him with the Holy Spirit. Here's the promise of the Lord Jesus. You can't do better than this: he who believes in me, as the scripture has said, out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water. That's King James English, 300 years old, and they use another obsolete term there. So most pastors, when they read the King James Version, make a little change. They say, he who believes in me, out of his inmost being shall flow rivers of living water, out of his heart shall flow rivers of living water. I studied Greek under Professor Julius Manti. They still use the Dana and Manti Greek grammar. He was a brilliant student of Greek. He studied under A.T.

Robertson of Louisville, and he was professor of Greek when I was studying. I went to him and I said, "What is this word here that's translated belly or heart or inmost being?" Well, he said it's a Greek collective singular. He said the word means the vital organs. You see, a man may lose an eye and survive; he may lose a leg and survive, but he can't lose his heart and survive. He can't lose his liver and survive. Now we have transplants; let's call them the transplant organs because they're essential to life. These are the vital organs. I said, "Well then, could you translate it: 'He who believes in me, as the scripture said, out of his vitals shall flow rivers of living water'?" He said, "Exactly, that's the word—not belly, not heart, but out of his vitals." I said, "Then could you say out of his vitality shall flow rivers of living water?" He said, "That's better still because it's a figure of speech."

Now, have you ever met anyone and you could say there's someone who has rivers of living water flowing from his vitality? I'll mention one person. It was my privilege to introduce her in many parts of the world. Have you ever heard of Corrie ten Boom? Let's see how many people here have ever heard of Corrie ten Boom. Did you get a blessing? Of course, you did. I never knew anyone that wasn't blessed through meeting Corrie ten Boom. Those of you who never met her, did you see the film "The Hiding Place"? What a touching thing. Now, Corrie was a dedicated Christian. I knew her so well. She was a member of our team for three years, and I could say everywhere she went, she was a blessing. And you do meet people like that. You don't have to agree with them about everything. For instance, take Miss Bertha Smith, sometimes a controversial figure, but everywhere she goes, she challenges people. She has spiritual power, there's no doubt about it.

I meet people like that. I was in New Orleans recently, and I heard Jack Taylor, who used to be in Castle Hills down in San Antonio. What a blessing he was. I consider myself a sort of experienced person, but he brought a real blessing to me. Every time I've heard Jack Taylor, I've appreciated what he had to say. So there are people like that; everywhere they go, they have rivers of living water. This is the promise. You say, "Well, it says he who believes in me, then every believer has this." Oh no, just look around this church. Would you say that everyone in the church has rivers of living water flowing from his life? No, there are some that are pretty dry. There are some who have some water, but they need to get sort of banked up again, as it were. They go from conference to conference hoping to get a little bit more power. No, no, this is the privilege of every believer. This is the prerogative, the option of every believer to have power.

This is tied in with the exhortation of Paul the Apostle: "Do not get drunk with wine, for that is debauchery, but be filled with the Spirit." And the verb there is in the continued tense: be filled and be filled again. Don't get drunk with wine. I was preaching in India when a man belonging to some way-out group came to me and said, "You know nothing about this ministry. If you were filled with the Holy Spirit, you'd act like a man who was drunk." I said, "Why do you say that?" "Well, on the day of Pentecost, they thought the disciples were drunk." I said, "Look, I was a chaplain for four years, and I've put many a man, many an officer or man to bed drunk rather than see him lie around and get hurt. But I've noticed there are four stages of drunkenness. The first stage is the very happy stage. When a man is first intoxicated, he's full of goodwill. He says, 'Buddy, old buddy, is there anything I can do for you?' That's the time to ask him for a loan. When people get intoxicated, the first stage is a happy stage. It's not the next stage. The next stage is the belligerent stage. He wants to fight. He says, 'You insulted him.' You say, 'I didn't say a word.' 'You insulted me by not saying a word.' He's prepared; he's trying to provoke you to fight. The third stage is exhibitionism. He becomes disgusting; he loses inhibitions. The fourth stage, if I may use the colloquial, he's out cold; he's unconscious."

I said to the Indian, "How do you think the Apostles behaved on the day of Pentecost? Were they out cold, unconscious? Were they disgusting? No. Were they belligerent, trying to pick a fight? No. They were just like people who had been celebrating at a wedding; they were just full of joy. So it says, 'Don't get drunk with wine, that's excess, but be filled with the Spirit.' Your whole life may be filled with the Holy Spirit."

Now, what's the purpose of all this? Well, I would say for witnessing, for suffering, for preaching, for service. Every time you find the word filled or full of the Spirit, you find some strong active verb. They were filled to do something. You learn a lot by studying the men who were filled. The Apostle Peter was filled with the Spirit. He stood up before those people—remember, he denied Christ with oaths and curses—but he stood up before those people who could have torn him apart, and he told them, "You're murderers." He preached so powerfully that 3,000 of them were converted. The Apostle Paul was converted on the road to Damascus, but he was told to go into Damascus to the house of Ananias, who prayed for him that he might be filled with the Holy Spirit, and he was. Stephen was filled with the Holy Spirit; that prepared him for martyrdom. Philip the evangelist was filled with the Holy Spirit.

What about you? You may say, "Well, that must maybe only for the Apostles." There are so many people who say it's not for today. Oh yes, it is for today because if you think of any man who is really used of God, you find he has a testimony of being filled with the Holy Spirit: John Wesley, William Booth, Charles Finney, D.L. Moody, Hudson Taylor, A.B. Simpson, yes, and I will add a word, Billy Graham. Because I remember talking to Billy for an hour after midnight on the first of September 1949, and we got into the woods to pray. He came back and said he had met God in a new way. You say, "Yes, you've mentioned outstanding people. You've mentioned the great heroes of the faith, the Apostles, and these great evangelists and missionaries. Maybe it's only meant for the great servants of God." No, no. How many believers were there in the upper room on the day of Pentecost? 120? No, no, not 120. It says about a hundred and twenty. That's what it says, about a hundred and twenty. How many names do you know? Supposing I said take a piece of paper and write down the names of those who you think were present. You could write the eleven disciples; Judas was dead, he had committed suicide. You could write down the names of the two candidates for Judas's place. You could write down the names of the four half-brothers of Jesus. You could write down Mary and Martha, Mary Magdalene, and Susanna. You'd have to say about 20. If you subtract about 20 from about 120, that means there were a hundred anonymous people who were filled with the Holy Spirit. You never hear of them again. It's not only for famous people.

I remember preaching in a big state church in Norway, the city of Boulder. It was a great privilege for a Baptist preacher to get in an official state church, Lutheran state church. I really enjoyed preaching the gospel there. At the end of the meeting, the rector of the church called on a lady who was visiting her hometown for the first time in 50 years to give a word, and she spoke so powerfully in Norwegian. That woman had gone out to Africa and had preached to the Zulus long before any missionary got to them. I have met all sorts of people who had been in that part of South Africa, and they said, "Oh, she was a saint." I knew her; she was my wife's mother. Most men make fun of their mothers-in-law, but my wife's mother was a saint. I remember in New Zealand, I met an old Plymouth Brethren doctor, and he said, "Have you ever thought of getting married?" "Oh, I thought about it, but I'm only a week at a time in a place. I think it takes more than a week's acquaintance." Well, he said, "Let me give you a word of advice. Before you take the bird, have a look at the nest." And I like to tease my wife by saying I met her mother first. This old doctor in New Zealand said, "Many a godly woman will have a flighty daughter, but she'll turn out all right. She's followed by her mother's prayers, but very seldom does a flighty mother have a godly daughter." You know about whom I was speaking; you don't even know her name. Her name was Martha Carlson, yet she was a woman filled with the Spirit of God.

Now you say, "What is the evidence of being filled with the Holy Spirit?" It's very simple. Jesus said, "You will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you." That's the primary evidence, the power. But what's the abiding evidence? Some people think that it's one of the gifts of the Spirit, but I'm much more inclined to say that the abiding evidence is the fruit of the Spirit: the love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, meekness, moderation—all nine. If you have one, you have all nine. Don't think of it as an apple, a pear, a peach, a pomegranate. Think of a cluster of grapes. If you have one, you have all nine. If your heart's full of love, it's full of joy. If your heart's full of joy, it's full of peace. Love, joy, peace. You couldn't imagine someone coming back from a conference saying, "Oh, I had such a blessing there. My heart's full of joy, and I'm just worried sick." You couldn't be worried sick if your heart's full of joy. Love, joy, peace—the fruit of the Spirit towards God.

But the next three—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness—they're not towards God. Could you imagine, for instance, even when you're in trouble, saying, "Now God, I've been very patient with you"? You can't be patient with God. You can't say, "I've been kind to God." God doesn't need you. You can't be good to God; you can't do him a favor. He's the Almighty, but you can be patient, kind, and good to your neighbor. That's manward. But the last three gifts—love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness—it says in some translations faith, but the words fidelity, faithfulness, meekness, and moderation. If you're filled with the Holy Spirit, you are not a fanatic because the Holy Spirit is a spirit of moderation. You may be dedicated; some people may not understand you. I know some good Christians who are thought to be eccentric, but I think they're really Christ-centered, but the world doesn't understand that. But if you are filled with the Holy Spirit, you're filled with moderation, you're filled with meekness. I've met some Christians who are arrogant; they can't claim to be filled with the Holy Spirit. And if you're filled with the Holy Spirit, you're faithful. These are the marks of being filled with the Holy Spirit.

Now you might say, "Well, what about the gifts of the Spirit?" Well, first of all, let's mention the gifts: wisdom, knowledge, faith, healing, power, prophecy, discernment, tongues, interpretation of tongues. There are two other gifts mentioned: that's helps and governments. And then there's a gift of a pastor, a gift of an evangelist, a gift of a teacher, the gift of a church planter, the gift of a prophet. I know at least 16 gifts, but most people think of the list: wisdom, knowledge, faith, healing, power, prophecy, discernment, tongues, interpretation of tongues. And some people think that the only evidence of being filled with the Holy Spirit is the speaking in tongues. Well, I feel that these gifts are more like weapons given to us for service, not like the fruit, which is abiding. You see, the Russian communists might put some Christian in jail in Russia, can't do anything, can't exercise his gift of evangelism if they won't let him out of the cell, but he can be filled with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, and the rest. He's got the fruit of the Spirit, but he can't always exercise his gift. The gifts are more like weapons that God gives us for service.

But when it comes to this question of being evidence of being filled with the Holy Spirit, I was preaching in a big church in Duluth, Minnesota. The Assembly of God pastor came every night, and he said to me, "I use different words to us, but I'm really enjoying your talks. Could you lunch with me tomorrow?" So we had lunch together, and while we were having lunch, I asked him this question: "Have you ever known of anyone who spoke in tongues to your satisfaction, you felt it was the real thing, but then got out of God's will seriously but still spoke in tongues?" Well, he said, "We don't like to talk about this outside the denomination. It's one of our problems." He said, "I put a man out of our assembly last winter. The fellow was engaged in a wife exchange, and when they sorted themselves out, he came back and wanted to take part in our meetings." He said, "I went to him and said, 'If you open your mouth, I'll expose you.' He left in a rage." I said, "Did he join some other Assembly of God?" "Oh no," he said, "we have some discipline. He's joined another Pentecostal group." "Well, didn't you feel that you ought to talk to the pastor?" He said, "I called up the minister; he just cut me off. 'Always two sides to a story, brother,' and he just rang off."

Now the point is this: you ask anyone who emphasizes the gift of tongues, "Have you ever known of anyone who had a gift that you were satisfied about and then got out of God's will and still spoke in tongues?" Nearly everyone will say, "I could tell you cases like that." That shows it is not the abiding evidence. These gifts are gifts for service: wisdom, knowledge, power, wisdom, knowledge, faith, healing, power, prophecy, discernment, tongues, interpretation of tongues. These are the nine gifts that are listed. But you know that when people discover something and this becomes their distinctive, then they go overboard often about it because they have to defend themselves. I've always been open in that way. I don't deny these things. What I'm more concerned about is these people who manipulate gifts. For instance, I regard the prosperity cult as a heresy. Somebody wrote to me and said they discovered exactly how much God blesses you when you give to him; it's three times. So they said, "If you were to send us $25, we guarantee that you will receive $75 in return." I responded, "You got it all wrong. If you believe this, you should send me $25, then you'll get $75."

I have sometimes heard some people say something that turned out to be prophetic, seemed to be like a gift of prophecy, but I've known of people to manipulate it. A friend of mine was at a big rally in Minneapolis, and somebody thought he needed straightening out because he didn't go along with them, decided to do it in a word of prophecy. Got up and said, "Behold, I the Lord thy God am speaking in the midst of thee, and behold, my servant Patrick has done many wonderful things for which he'll receive his reward, but he has yet many things to learn if he'll only learn to listen." That was really taking him off. Who was doing this, supposedly the Holy Spirit? That was a word of prophecy. I said to my friend, "Were you much impressed?" He said, "Not at all, but I see with your background." He said, "If the Holy Spirit were talking to me, he would know that my name is not Patrick. That's my nickname, not Patrick." Then it struck me, imagine someone so arrogant as to pretend to be the Holy Spirit. That's what I call manipulation of gifts. Yet I have heard people say things that were fulfilled. The only test of prophecy is the fulfillment.

Now, I don't want to get into controversy and divert your attention, but I've said that the abiding evidence of the filling of the Holy Spirit is the love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, meekness, moderation. But God does give gifts. For instance, directly after Billy Graham's experience at Forrest Home, he became the most powerful world evangelist. The anointing on Billy Graham is for drawing people to Christ; that's his gift. But I'm going to ask one other question: is this an emotional experience? But it could be, and it couldn't be, one or the other. I was speaking at Forrest Home at that very conference I told you about where Billy Graham was another speaker. I'm an extremely unemotional person. When someone tells a funny story at our table and everyone roars with laughter and I don't laugh, my wife immediately says, "My husband is much amused." She apologizes for me; she doesn't want the person to think that I was mad at them or something. I've been along with Roger McDonald and John Cramp and others back and forth, and we've had many a humorous story to exchange, but you haven't heard me laugh. It's just not my nature. I don't cry easily either. I'm not emotional. But the night that I gave my life completely to God, seeking to be filled with the Holy Spirit, I wept like a child.

I told this to a thousand students at the Forrest Home conference, but I didn't want them to think that they had to weep like a child. So I looked around; there was Henrietta Mears, the great Sunday school teacher, sitting there. She's dead and gone now, a wonderful woman of God. I said, "Miss Mears, come and tell us your experience." Then it struck me when I said, "Come and tell us your experience," I didn't know what her experience was, but I felt led of God to