By Bob Beanblossom
I am a Christian. I have no pride in the statement, only gratitude for my Savior who died for my sins and subsequently offered full and free salvation to an abject sinner who was dead in those sins (Romans 5:12). While saved beyond any doubt, I remain a sinner saved by His grace (Romans 3:21-24).
I was saved in the Fall of 1955 as I knelt at an old-fashioned mourners bench in a converted one-room land-grant school house in Cedarville, Ohio. I had just turned nine. I was baptized soon after that in a pool, a wide place, in Massey’s Creek, as clear and cold as well water. I was following Peter’s instructions (Acts 3:19). I was indeed refreshed and renewed. The Nazarenes of that day preached a “second definite work of grace” that is “entire sanctification” that brings about the indwelling of the Holy Spirit and prevents backsliding. I also prayed for that blessing, but have since come to hold that, 1) the Spirit indwells fully at salvation, 2) our salvation is sure and secure, and 3) sanctification is a process (1 Peter 3:15) rather than an event. Still, there is the observational evidence, the testimonies, of many fine Christians who, at some time after their salvation, experienced an event that changed their Christian lives significantly, as John 17 suggests. My answer is intentional obedience as I learn more of His Word, pray for not only guidance but the will and power to follow where He leads as He leads.
Since Mom and I moved to Cedarville to live with Gramps and Grandma the year before, I had attended the little Nazarene church with them on Sunday morning, evening, and on Wednesday evenings. I had heard solid biblical preaching from our pastor, and sound Sunday School lessons from Grandma. I learned about the mission of missions, at home and abroad. We had moved from Dayton where we attended church on Sunday mornings, but that had changed as I had become immersed in farm life that started with a preaching program on the radio that opened with the song “Ere you left your room this morning, did you stop to pray . . .” with a big farm breakfast. Then came chores, school, and regular devotions to close out the day. We were “out in the country.” I enjoyed reading and spent hours in the Word. I still do. I had lots of time to think and talk with God.
The Spirit had, through the Word, awakened an understanding in me that I was, even at this young age, an abject sinner incapable of ever being a “good boy” in His sight. My sin and sins were real and required His grace to correct. Salvation would bring about forgiveness and adoption into His family, but not cure the sin nature of the inherent “old man” that would continue to live within. I learned about grace; that salvation is a relationship that begins with an event; as Paul said, life is a battle where my good intentions too often result in less than ideal actions on my part (Romans 7).
We didn’t have the amenities of the modern church. No gym, kitchen or dining area; no worship leader with sound and lighting systems; no youth minister with wonderful fun-filled programs. We had the Word and the presence of the Holy Spirit; we had prayer, fasting, and giving—not just money, but time and energy to those who needed a hand now and then; we had biblically based preaching that was plain and easy to understand, even for a youngster. We didn’t
know what a mentor was, but did know that the church was family and we were part of that family. For all of that I am eternally thankful.
I’m not expert in this field, just a fellow pilgrim. The Word is my source, prayer my strength, and the Holy Spirit my guide. A professor wanted each of us in his class to identify with a “version” of Christianity (Calvin, Wesley, etc.). He was not real happy when I said I was a Biblical Christian. He said that that didn’t help since all Christians are Biblical Christians. I respectfully disagree with the learned gentleman as some of the posts here will show.