I was a minister of the gospel who for many years did not preach the gospel to my flock. How did this happen? Let me back up.
It’s the early 1940s. Picture a zealous young man standing on a billiards table in the small western Pennsylvania town of DuBois, preaching the gospel to my father and his friends. My dad spent most of his spare time as a teenager in the pool hall, smoking cigarettes and losing money. He was raised in a liberal, mainline church. He’d never heard the gospel until a bold, self-appointed herald of the good news perched himself on a pool table and announced that “Christ died for the ungodly.”
The sermon yielded no immediate results, but the message of the cross was clearly delivered. The young preacher never saw the fruit of his labor; he was killed in World War II. But shortly after the war, God saved my newlywed parents—and for the rest of his life, my dad remained thankful for that young man who initially brought him the message of saving grace. He lived the rest of his days committed to the gospel. By trade, he was a top-40 radio DJ. He would
To continue...read the full-length post originally published on this site.
