The New Neighbors by L. Ervin Wright

Pacific Press Publishing Association · Mountain View, California · Oct 7, 1930

FromSigns of the Times, Vol. 57, No. 39.

Read the full edition

The New Neighbors

By L. Ervin Wright

L. Ervin Wright

The story of how they turn a town upside down; and for the first time the town was right side up.

CHAPTER XX

THE STORY THUS FAR:

Mrs. Winters, her son, Dale, and daughter, Theresa, newcomers to Fairdale, start an active missionary campaign. They are the first Seventh-day Adventists ever to live in Fairdale. Dale holds several Bible studies in the home of Mrs. Helman. In visiting the Reverend Mr. Dodson, pastor of the —— church, Dale is accused of belonging to a cult, and being a proselyter. Theresa conceives the plan of starting a Sunday school. The club hall of the Chamber of Commerce is secured for the Sunday school and also for Dale's lectures. Pastor Dodson begins an attack upon the Adventists. The parsonage of the Dodsons catches fire, and Dale, at the risk of his life, plunges into the burning home and rescues the pastor. The pastor was found to have been seriously injured, and Dr. Watkins secures Theresa, who is a graduate nurse, to attend the injured man. Pastor Dodson has a change of heart, and confesses to Theresa that he has been fighting against the truth of God, and desires that Dale will teach him the faith of the Adventists.

Deacon Wells Makes a Resolution

No one knew about Pastor Dodson's change of attitude but his wife and the Winters, and it was virtually a shock to Fairdale when the pastor, a few weeks later, in the pulpit of his church, made his confession. Those who did not hear Pastor Dodson were rather dubious about believing the report of those who heard him. But these doubts were removed when Pastor Dodson spoke for fifteen minutes before Dale Winters gave his Sunday evening lecture at the Chamber of Commerce hall.

The next day every one in Fairdale was talking about the changed attitude of Pastor Dodson. At Butterfield's “Corner Grocery” a lively discussion was taking place concerning the pastor, when Ezekiel Wells, a deacon in Dodson's church, entered the store.

“Good mornin', Ezekiel,” greeted Ezra Peters, as the deacon approached the group in the rear of the store.

“Good morning, Ezra,” returned Deacon Wells.

“What is the matter with Pastor Dodson?” asked Cyrus Moore.

STRANGE OCCURRENCES

“Yes, what is the matter? That's what I'd like to know. He's been staying in my house ever since he got hurt in the fire, and this Dale Winters has been there about every day since; and he and the pastor have been as thick as hops. They have been studying the Bible together for hours at a time. All I guess is that this Advent has hypnotized the pastor into being an Advent himself, for he hasn't been the same since the fire.”

“Didn't you know anything about this change in the pastor until he spoke at the church yesterday morning?” asked some one.

“No; I didn't!” returned the deacon.

“Maybe he wanted to surprise you, deacon,” suggested Silas Hewitt.

“Well, he did it!” snapped the deacon. “But don't think because Pastor Dodson has turned Advent that Deacon Wells has. No, sir-ee, my father was a ——, and I'm going to be a —— till I die; and that's that.”

“Now, Ezekiel,” said Ezra Peters soothingly, “I wouldn't want to take any stand like that; and I don't think that right down in your heart you actually mean what you say.”

The deacon said nothing, but gave Ezra a hard look.

A FEW LOGICAL QUESTIONS

“You see, Ezekiel,” remonstrated Peters, “that would be an unfair position for you or anyone else to take; and I've always given you credit for being a pretty level-headed man.”

Peters paused. Wells still did not say anything, but his look was more pleasant, and Peters knew that he was winning.

“Now look here, deacon, you and I have been friends for years, and I think I know you pretty well; and if I didn't like you, I wouldn't be spendin' my time talkin' to you about religion. Now I'd like to ask you a few questions, Ezekiel, and if you feel like it, why, answer 'em. In the first place, you say the reason you are goin' to stick to your present belief is that your father believed that way. Now what I'd like to know is, Did your father believe the same as his father did?”

“He did,” asserted the deacon. “My family has belonged to the —— faith for nearly one hundred years.”

“That's a pretty long record, I'll admit, Ezekiel,” commented Ezra. “But evidently your family did not always belong to the —— faith. Is that right?”

“Well, yes—er—they didn't always belong to the —— faith.”

“Well, what were they before they joined the —— faith?”

“They were Catholics.”

“Do you think that the first member in your family who accepted the Protestant faith did the right thing, Ezekiel?”

“Yes, I—I think he did, Ezra.”

“But, Ezekiel, if this ancestor of yours had done as you are doin', he'd been a Catholic like his father, and you might have been a Catholic to-day instead of a Protestant. Now, isn't that so?”

“Well, er—yes, it is, Ezra.”

A LOGICAL CONCLUSION

“Of course it is. Now it seems to me that your rule is not a very good one; and I think that regardless of whether my father was a Catholic or a Protestant or anything else, I must decide for myself what is the truth. We have access to a hull lot more light than our ancestors did, and we are in that respect a hull lot more accountable. My ancestors may have lived up to all the light they had, but the question is, Am I livin' up to all the light I have? I'm a pretty old man and I have never joined any church, but I have done a lot of studyin', and I guess it's about time for me to make my confession. I've decided and my wife has decided to become Seventh-day Adventists. We haven't rushed into this thing with our eyes shut. We have taken our time and have been investigatin' for a long time, but we are now ready to take our stand. I think it would be a fine thing, Ezekiel, if you would come along with us. Of course, Ezekiel, you couldn't become an Adventist a-holdin' on to that pipe.”

“Couldn't? Why couldn't I?”

“Well, Adventists believe that the Lord is soon comin' and that the church He takes to heaven is goin' to be a ‘glorious church, not having spot, or wrinkle, or any such thing; but that it should be holy and without blemish.’ Ephesians 5:27.”

“But I've been a member of the —— church since I was a boy, and they didn't preach that tobacco would keep you out of heaven.”

A CLEAN RELIGION

“That may be, deacon, but these Adventists have a religion that cleans up a man. They believe that the body is the temple of the Holy Spirit, and that he who defiles this temple God will destroy. (1 Corinthians 6:19; 3:17.) Can you imagine the angels walkin' the streets of gold puffin' on a pipe or a

cigar or a cigarette, or a-spittin' tobacco juice on those streets? Your better sense of things tells you that they don't use tobacco in heaven; and I don't think you would ever even think of associatin' Jesus Christ and tobacco together.”

At the kind rebuke of his friend, the deacon took his pipe out of his mouth.

“I would quit this nasty habit, but I can't,” apologized the deacon.

“Then what good is your religion, Ezekiel, if you are a slave to the lusts of the flesh? If Christianity means anything, it means that it can save a man from sin and not in sin.”

“Then I'm afraid I have never been a Christian,” confessed the deacon.

“I wouldn't say that, Mr. Wells.” The speaker was Dale Winters, who had entered the store and had overheard most of the conversation. The deacon turned and looked at Winters with a look akin to consternation.

HUMAN CRITERIONS UNSAFE

“I think, Deacon Wells, that you have probably been living up to all the light you had. You doubtless believed that tobacco was a bad habit, but you have never particularly felt that it might separate you from your Saviour. It is said that the great Baptist preacher, Charles Spurgeon, used to smoke before he would enter the pulpit; but that doesn't give me a criterion to go by. If you really feel that smoking is a sin, then ask God to give you the victory over smoking, and He will.”

“But I have smoked for forty years.”

“That doesn't make any difference with God. If you were as old as Methuselah and had smoked from the cradle, God can deliver you from your habit if you ask Him.”

“I will try it,” vowed the deacon, and, with those words, he threw his pipe and can of tobacco into a box of rubbish.

(To be continued)