I am new listening to your podcast. The one blessing of growing up in church is recorded below. I do not recall anyone mentioning this yet, but I could be mistaken. Or maybe this rich heritage was a unique feature of our church as the one true entity.
I grew up in an independent church in Guess Where, USA. I was saved at about age 8 when an evangelist came to hold services. The one thing about this golden age of 60s to 70s was the emphasis that they put on disciplining children. Most of the pastors and wives were very aggressive in responding to any interruption in service. Children of any age (post diaper) would lose their rear for these infractions. “Speak a little louder Rev, your son is screaming too loud in the vestibule!” A frequent favorite sermon would include the following verses listed below.
He who spares his rod hates his son, but he who loves him disciplines him promptly.
Discipline your son, for in that there is hope; do not be party to his death.
Do not withhold discipline from a child; although you strike him with a rod, he will not die. Strike him with a rod, and you will deliver his soul from Sheol. Foolishness is bound up in the heart of a child, but the rod of discipline drives it far from him.
Chasten thy son while there is hope and let not thy soul spare for his crying. (Schofield notes include giving them more to cry about)
My dad was so faithful. He must have thought that he should work out his salvation with fear and trembling, but it was me doing the latter two actions. And just like the in the original garden, there was an apple tree in ours. It was an example of regeneration since removed branches sprouted anew. The best method appeared to be the swing through and then back. Two directions make changing stances obsolete.
I did not know that welts on the back of a person’s legs were temporary and boys were not born with them. When I got to be sixteen, I discovered that I could finally wear shorts. I also made a mental note to never have pencils or sharp objects in my hands when the pendulum swung. I had to pull an impaled pencil out of my leg once, but it is only graphite which is harmless.
After one such sermon mentioned above, my father and I met the pastor at the front door upon exiting. Since I was now a teenager and I stood taller than my father, he inquired what he should do now for discipline since I was not a little boy anymore. Pastor, relying on the spirit’s guidance, suggested that my dad utilize a 2 x 4. I remember looking at the man of god and his glare at me never wavered. He emphasized that he was totally serious.
I wondered then if there was ever any way that I could show my appreciation for his shepherding care. A pie or some banana bread might do the trick, but for some reason I let this opportunity pass. Fortunately or not, my father did not move on to bigger, but better things. There just seems to be a time when things lose their effectiveness. I built up an immunity to physical pain and in fact he moved on to psychological methods.
Funny how some of these things seem like they just happened yesterday. It really is the gift that keeps on giving. Do you think there will be a crown of faithfulness for not missing the target when we all get to heaven? Maybe a belt would be a better remembrance.
It was just such a golden age and I thought worthy to reminisce. To be honest though, I never forget the spiritual blessings. All verses referenced above are from the KJV.