Here we see the newly renamed H.A. Ironsides dormitory on the campus of Bob Jones University. Everyone can breath a sigh of relief that the KKK associations of the previous name that adorned this building have all been wiped away.
But wait a moment…what’s the on the seventh window from the left on the second floor?
Ah. Well it’s good to see that someone is keeping the grand old traditions alive on campus. That display must make the minority students on campus feel incredibly welcome. Well done.
By request, this weeks challenge is to make up an evangelistic-style tall tale of fundamentalist proportions.
How many people can you get saved with one Chick Tract and half a page of Scripture torn from Ezekiel? What’s your crowning achievement in ministry? Exactly how big is your…Sunday School?
Let’s hear all about it!
The lore of fundamentalism is rife with the terrifying specters of a thousand faceless enemies that threaten to destroy your life, wreck your home, pervert your children, and embarrass your pastor. These threatening figures come cloaked in all manner of cunning disguises. They look like your co-workers, your neighbors, and maybe even your own family members. They are the bogeymen of fundyland and the tales of their evil should keep you from ever straying too far from home.
There’s hardly a group that isn’t a card-carrying member this fearsome horde of evil. Why, if I stand upon the front porch of my house and gaze past our massive Scripture verse lawn signs, I can see the faces of the enemy all around me…
Look, right down there at the corner there’s the nice Catholic grandma who always waves hello to people and gives them cookie as she tries to send them to hell with her idolatry. Also I’m pretty sure that fruitcake she gives out at Christmas has alcohol in it. Every time she gives me one I hand her a tract about how wrong it is to worship Mary so hopefully I’m getting through…
And there is Miguel and his partner Jim. They always offer to cut my grass in the summer and shovel my walk in the winter time but I know that’s just their way of making me accept their filthy lifestyle that is going to be the ruination of our entire country. They do have a really nice lawn, though…
And then there’s that Nigerian family that just moved in on the other side of the street. The man said something about being an Anglican but I sure hope they’re not secretly bringing us any of that African voodoo. I’ll get my loudspeaker system and KJV Scourby tapes ready just in case we need to repel the darkness…
Well, I’d better get back inside now. One of the neighbors just started his car and I can hear it playing that terrible rap music nonsense. Better get inside and make sure the windows are closed so the kids aren’t exposed to it…
In fundyland a healthy dose of paranoia isn’t nearly enough. The bogeymen are everywhere.
Welcome to the website of Martin “Marty” Cook. Marty is real mensch as evidenced by his list of wins at the bottom of his home page including Over 5,000 professions of faith and a personal high bus attendance of 360. You can also peruse his list of favorite bus kids names, some poetry about bus kids, and Gospel magic that one would assume he performs for bus kids.
It was also from his links page that I learned about this cool new search engine named “Google.” I’ll definitely have to check that out.
Here are a couple of war stories from the files of Jack “By His Own Admission The Most Awesome Preacher Since Ever” Hyles.
TOO TIRED TO SHOUT
One day I went soul winning with Bob Keyes, who was then my Assistant Pastor. Bob was an excellent soul winner and still is. I was doing the talking and the lady had a little baby who was misbehaving. About the time the lady was ready to get down to pray, the little boy said, “I want my bottle.”
Mama stuck the bottle in his mouth.
“I don’t want my bottle.”
She took it out.
“I wanna bottle.”
She stuck it in.
“I don’t want my bottle.”
Then I prayed silently, “Lord, do something about this little rascal or he is going to mess up the whole thing.” Do you know, he stopped and looked spellbound, as if he were in a trance. I said to myself, “Well, glory to God!” For about fifteen minutes that little baby didn’t move. He didn’t move his eyes; he just looked. The lady got converted.
When we left, I said to Bob Keyes, “Bob, praise the Lord!”
He said, “Amen, but why?”
“Did you see what God did to that baby?”
He said, “What?”
I said, “All of a sudden, at the crucial time, that baby froze.”
Bob said, “Well, I’m sure that the Lord had something to do with it, but I may have helped a little, because I had a ball point pen behind the coffee table going up and down, up and down, up and down. Preacher, I did that for fifteen minutes, and I’m worn out! I’M TOO TIRED TO SHOUT.”
HE COULDN´T EVEN SPELL THE WORD “JESUS”
He was a Mormon but had never been saved. It was on our regular visitation night when I first met him, and in a few minutes he was led to saving faith in Jesus Christ. Soon after, I won his brother to the Saviour. They were both rough-and-tough bricklayers but became tremendous soul winners.
I nicknamed him “Bear” because he walked like a bear and was a massive physical specimen. Though he could not spell the word “Jesus,” he has in these fourteen years since he has been saved won hundreds and hundreds to the Saviour.
One Sunday we ate in his home. He and his wife were so proud of their house because it was lovely and new. I noticed, however, that one bedroom closet door had scratches all over it. I inquired as to why that one door was so marred with scratches. Bear wouldn’t tell me, but his wife told me the reason.
Before Bear got saved he went hunting every weekend. He would put a scratch on the stock of his rifle every time he killed an animal. He asked his wife if he could use the closet door for his soul-winning “stock.” He would place a scratch on the door for every soul he had won that year. I counted 167 scratches on the door.
One day Bear picked up a hitchhiker and tried to tell him about Jesus only to find the hitchhiker was deaf. He resorted to showing the man a Gospel tract only to find that the man could not read. Bear stopped the car, got out, got on his knees, made the form of a cross, pointed to Heaven, pointed to his heart, bowed his head, and formed his hands beneath his chin in a prayer position. The man got the idea, fell to his knees and began to weep. He pointed to Heaven and to his heart, assuring Bear that he had been saved.
The man who couldn’t even spell “Jesus” now knows Him, and for these many years has led hundreds to know Him too. He is still active in his church and in personal soul winning.
For more breathtaking adventures in soulwinning that demonstrate exactly how awesome and wonderful Jack Hyles was, check out the entire text of Jack Hyles’ Favorite Soulwinning Experiences.