How They Entered Canaan J.B. Chapman Part 2

BLJ: More testimony from Dr. J.B. Chapman.

The language was of course not discriminate to me, but its sentiments were intriguing, and I found myself hoping that I might sometime come to where I could rejoice in an inheritance as complete as this one seemed to be to those who sang with the Spirit and with the understanding.

Having no basis for opposition and prejudice in any former contacts or training, it seemed to me just the logical thing that there should be in the religion of the Lord Jesus Christ complete deliverance and satisfaction for those who put their full trust in Him.

There was not in my mind and heart any tendency to dub these people extremists or to argue that what they believed was fanaticism. They impressed me as good, sincere, happy people, and what they taught seemed to me to be just about what one should expect from a God who is infinite in power, wisdom, and goodness.

The evangelist had another engagement for which he had to leave on Monday. But the brethren who were responsible decided to continue the meeting for a few days in the hope that the revival which they had prayed for and which had come only in meager measure might fall upon them. The preaching was done by volunteer ministers who chanced to be on hand when the need arose. I do not remember much of what was preached during that week, but I do know the Spirit of God was among the people, and that among about forty I was one to whom the call came. One night I went forward and gave my hand -- but was only partly in earnest, and nothing came of that.

God uses strange providences to accomplish His purpose. As a result of my conviction, I had become something of a champion of the holiness people, and felt that it devolved upon me to resent any evil done to them. One night I stopped to talk with a friendly boy of my own age outside the tent, and then went in and sat with him on the back seat. The seats were wooden frames over which canvas was tacked to make the place for the people to sit, and also to provide for folding the seats when the time came to move the equipment. My new friend was one who thought he should do despite to the people who ran the meeting; so when there was considerable noise of singing and praising at the front, he took out a large, hawk-billed knife, stuck the blade down through the canvas of the seat, and drew it toward him, making a rent a foot and one-half long in the new, strong cloth. He had expected my commendation. Instead I turned on him in strong resentment, called him a coward, and said he would not do that to anyone who was willing to take his own part, but would pick on a crowd who had already publicly announced that they would not resist evil; that if he were really brave he would go to a dance and pick a fuss with the crowd there. I told him that he knew he would get his head skinned there, so he came here and picked on good, unoffending people, and that I had a good mind to take him outside and beat him up for their sakes.

The boy was dumfounded. Finally, he said, "Well, if you think so much of these people, you had better go down to the front and show yourself to be one of them."

I accepted his challenge, and moved down two-thirds of the way to the front; and I account that boy one of the great benefactors (although unwittingly) of my life.

My place well up toward the front was good for the purpose. And that night, on what seemed to be the final proposition, I went up and gave my hand on the promise that I would not be asked to stay at the altar, but that someone would be sent to my seat to pray for me.

One of the very first to come to me was my mother. Mother began by saying, "This boy has never heard me pray for him. O Lord, have mercy on me and on him."
A Christian worker encouraged me to "Come on up to the front where it will be more convenient to kneel and to pray," and I was glad to go.

The plan for altar work in those days was to alternate praying and singing and exhortation, leaving it to the seeker himself to join in the praying and to make his own profession, if one was to be made at all. The service continued until a late hour, and until there were no seekers left except me.

It seemed to me that at last I came up, as it were, to the edge of a precipice, and was being urged to step off that edge. I thought of the ground behind me, and knew there was no peace there; but to step off upon the unknown, with what seemed to be no support for my feet, was indeed a trying requirement. Then the little group of helpers stood about me and sang:

I came to Him, my heart was sad: They're all taken away, away.
He saved my soul, and now I'm glad; My sins are all taken away.

Suddenly, like a revelation, came the realization that my sins would all be taken away if I would but step off the edge of that precipice upon the promise of God. Immediately, and without further delay, I stepped off. There was no perceptible fall at all. For there, immediately under my feet, were the unfailing promises of God. As I stood upon them, there came to my heart a sense of pardon and peace such as I had never known before, and without the slightest hesitation, I arose and said, "My sins are all taken away. I am a Christian." There filled my heart in that moment a joy that was truly unspeakable and full of glory.

I went to the individuals still left in the audience, including the boy with whom I had had the trouble at the beginning of the service, and told them how great things the Lord had done for me and had had mercy upon me; I testified and exhorted with great liberty and blessing. It seemed to me that surely many would come.

They did not come that night, but the next night and the nights following, some did come, and I had the joy of feeling that so soon as that I was beginning to know the joy of helping a soul find God. That first night, while I was in the bliss of the first ecstasy, one friend of the former life, a boy we all called Bill, shook me violently, and said, "Jim, this won't do. You will have to sober up. This will drive you crazy."

In those days it was common to express fear that people would "go crazy over religion," and Bill thought he saw in me indications that I was about to become unbalanced. You don't hear much about that going crazy over religion any more. But not everybody knows that the reason for the disappearance of this word is that the statistics show that the number of people who become unbalanced because of excessive religion is so small as to be negligible in the whole. Honesty now compels men to leave religion out of the list, and give the higher rating in the matter of causes of insanity to alcohol, venereal diseases, maladjustment because of anger and hate, and other such things standing in a category quite apart from religion.