Monday, April 23, 2007


The Spring of 1951 has lingered in my memory because of the experiences I had then. I was a young man then, full of zeal which often over ran what wisdom I had.
God had done a new thing in the earth a few months prior, which was called the "Latter Rain" for lack of a better means of identification. It had started in a Bible School in North Battleford, Sask. It spread quickly, though the brethren in charge of the Bible School had not tried to advertise what was taking place.
They did not put a name on it-- that was done later by the folks south of the border. It caused some irritation to the Canadian brothers, but it was quickly out of their hands.
They were awed by the magnitude of the move in their midst, and vowed to never try to control what God had started in their school. This idea prevailed for a long time, but human nature being what it is, the resolve would, in time, be over ruled by the need for some sort of human guidance. Not that God had desired it, but the men felt it was getting out of hand, and would miss the mark of what they thought it was intended to accomplish.
In attempting to "guide" the "Move of God", they inadvertently found themselves at the "head" of what was to become another "machine made by Gene."
It was just as well, for there were several other "Genes" who "made a machine" from that same moving of God's hand. Some of the more prominent ones were in Detroit, Portland, and Vancouver, BC. There were many more to follow, scattered over the globe.
Each "machine" was cranking out different ideas of what the "revival" was all about. Ideologies were flying like birds in the air, thick enough to "darken" the light of what God was trying to do in the earth.
The Canadian folks held a "Feast of Pentecost" convention each Spring. Ralph Megrew and I went in 1951, driving his new Studebaker car.
At Edmonton we were informed that the main road to North Battleford was under water from melting snow. There was another road (unpaved) above water, so we started out. It was about five hours normally, but the frost was coming out of the ground, and the rolls kept us from making good time. Midnight.
It was at that Feast of Pentecost that I caught a glimpse of the true meaning of God's people gathering to worship Him.
My sleeping room was in an office adjoining the auditorium where the services were held. The building was an old Army barracks. Their "pews" were planks on various types of supports, with no back rests. Yet, each morning shortly after six o'clock people started gathering. Some prayed while others worshipped. By nine o'clock there was standing room only.
No one talked to their neighbors or friends, yet there was a steady sound of worship to God. A chorus would be started, and everyone joined in (all without instruments) for a round or two of that chorus. Then the steady sound of worship would resume for a while until someone else started a chorus. This continued from the first people into the auditorium until when the leaders came in at ten o'clock to start the service. There was no need for a "warm up" with a song service. They started teaching right away.
I determined while there that I would try to train the folks in Yakima to do the same. When I returned, we STRONGLY discouraged any talking in the sanctuary before service. We URGED the folks to begin worshipping when they entered the building. Before long, we had them fairly well trained this way, and it sure did change the atmosphere when we gathered.
Believe it or not, I could often tell who had come in to the building by the "atmosphere" which accompanied them as they entered to worship. I always sat on the front row, and never looked back. Those were awe inspiring times-- precious to us.
God honored our reverence in the House of God by stretching forth His Hand to perform various miracles from time to time.

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