Boat Rockers

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                                                    Chapter 16

                                        The Boat Rockers

 Fellowship meetings in the California Central valley during the mid-forties
were at once instructive and destructive. Fellowship depended on whose ship
you were in.
 
 As I look back, I must now confess that the zeal of the Lord had eaten us up.
We were told not to rock the boat, but we figured that one bettered his
argument if he had learned how to swim.
 
 The meetings were held on Saturdays, beginning with an afternoon service.
Afterward , we partook of the carry-in food from the area churches. The
evening service was always well attended.
 
 
There was a mixture of organized opinion on what constituted the new birth
message. Then, there were a few independent preachers that didn't know whose
side to get on.  Some of the preachers were reckoned to be respectables, while
others were considered outlaws. Perhaps the outlaws looked at the respectables
the same way.
 
 The Pentecostal Church Incorporated and the Pentecostal Assemblies of Jesus
Christ were about to merge. Preachers had their feelers out and in a quest for
Apostolic fellowship, we were seeking for anyone that was fundamentally sound.
 
 When we met at Brother I. H. Terry's store-front church to discuss the coming
together merger, we listened to arguments for and against our coming together.
Brother Terry and Brother Sherman Langford spoke for the merger and Brother
Hurley against it.  The church had once been a pet shop until Brother Terry
converted it to a church. In his zeal for the Oneness message, he placed a
sign in the window which read:  "All Trinities are going to hell."
 
 Brother Jimmy Davis and myself did not approve of the merger on the grounds
that a number of the P.C.I. brethren did not believe in the essentiality of
the Holy Ghost. Both before and after the merger, the same question kept
coming up,  "When is the blood applied?" Many contended that it was at the
alter. We knew this to be true, but their understanding was that the Holy
Ghost baptism was not essential for salvation. Our group contended the blood
was applied throughout the Tabernacle service and it was not complete until
the ritual was finished.
 
 Those fervored Apostolic preachments that were heard in the valley's
fellowship meetings, (we called them  "Battleship meetings") reminded me of
the wars that Josephus wrote about, only on a miniature scale. Our Pentecostal
forebears left us with a mixture of creeds and beliefs.  Annihilation, British
Israel, and soul sleep were thrown up for grabs. One preacher told me he
handled snakes. He emphasized the plural word there, saying one was not
enough. Another said he preached with a Gila monster in his shirt. Church
boards were hewn down and women preachers had their calling uncalled.
 
 We took turns "taking a text" on those whom we reckoned as our enemies--the
compromisers.  If none were present, we tested the belief and patience of one
another.

 And yet, at that time, this had to be, for silence works nothing out.  Our
search was for the faith once delivered to the saints. At the meetings, every
minister was given time to say a few words. I soon learned how illiterate a
number of us were.  It seemed a number of us could not tell time.  On home
made pine slat benches and cheap folding chairs, the saints sat transfixed as
an assortment of Pentecostal pronouncements were hurled at them.  In concrete
block coliseums or in batten board arenas, Apostolic gladiators sallied forth
to slay lions of error and giants of compromise. Every thrust of their
unctioned spear-like words seemed as though the Christians were once more
embattled at Rome.
 
 With the merger now but a few months past, one could not expect total
agreement.  Indeed, there are a number of things we have not agreed on to this
day and may never be settled. Overall, a positive message took form and for
the most part, was settled on.
 
 Today, some 49 years later, I find that some of those preachers have died
with their boots on, while a few have changed, but not for the better.  A few
remain mavericks and others have moved away.
 
 After a time, for the most part, the Pentecostals took on a conservative
look. The saints followed example.  A foundation was agreed upon that
conformed to scripture.  Sell all you have to get bible convictions while you
are yet young, for the years have a way of softening a man. Sometimes for the
better; sometimes for the worse. 

 WE consciously, or unconsciously, acquire the habits, beliefs and mannerisms
of those with whom we company.  The longer I live, the more I appreciate
discovering convictions and Gospel Truth in my formative years. It is
difficult to take up the slack or change when we grow old. I will always have
a special place for Andrew Baker, Jimmy Davis, and I. H. Terry. They were
dedicated to the Apostolic doctrine. Their steadiness made me strong.
 
 I shall not apologize for human spirits that ofttimes were harsh and severe.
In a sense, we were at war, not at a tea party. WE felt that problems of
eternal moment were at issue.  Wars are won by  contest and not by ignoring
the enemy at the gate.
 
 In looking back, I recall that we were branded as ignorant, rude, wild and
inconsiderate, And yet, by those very means, a foundation for good , sound,
fundamental doctrine was established.  Truth comes in small measures and
creeds take shape slowly.  A sort of peace lasted for almost half a century.
But now  , after visiting the west again, I note something arresting.  I find
a resurgence of compromise and rethinking convictions.
 
 How sad! Truth once cherished in the burning hearts of a dedicated few, may
one day become parroted  phrases and meaningless creeds, to a multitude of
those who profess to be our followers. Every generation must discover truth
for itself.
 
 How High My Mountain 
 An Autobiography by Elder Carl Joseph Ballestero
 copyright 1991
 All rights reserved