Some churches are so COLD, FORMAL & DRY, people sit like a WART ON A PICKLE; sour, indifferent & puckered up.
People grunt out a little “AMEN” once in a while, LIKE IT HURTS THEM & everyone stretches their neck like geese to LOOK AROUND.
God’s Spirit is Joy, Peace, & Love, but a bug called the palmerworm, began to eat all the fruits of the Spirit off the Bride Tree.
It ate all the JOY away.
The church sold its birthrights in exchange for a CLASSIER, more FORMAL group of people that didn’t get carried away.
They didn’t want people to cry, shout, dance & praise God like those Acts 2 babes the Holy Ghost produces.
They preferred to be a cold & formal morgue.
They are DEAD, ICE COLD, church members, embalmed with MAN-MADE doctrines & creeds.
When anyone shouts AMEN, they turn to see who said that. What a shame!
W M B ~ So this little ol’ palmerworm begin to eat that fruit of joy out.
“Now, looky here. You people make too much noise. I tell you, all this crying, this saying ‘amen,’ and this shouting, that’s nonsense. There’s nothing to that.” See?
First thing you know, you set in a big morgue, you know, set there, all of them dead.
Some of these embalming fluids of so-called Doctrine, of creeds pumped into their veins where the Spirit of God ought to be running, where the old church creed pumped in there.
No wonder they’re icy cold and dead. Spiritual thermometer, ninety below zero. Yeah. Somebody say, “amen,” everybody stretch their neck around like some kind of a goose or something, want to know what said that. It’s a shame.
When, the Spirit of God ought to be joy, peace, love. But this little old bug started eating on it. He eat all the joy away.
The Restoration Of The Bride Tree
W M B ~ Now, you know that John and Jesus were second cousins.
So she said, “Here comes Mary, my cousin.”
And she run out the house, got her little shawl and put around her. She run out, and she met Mary and threw her arms around her and begin to HUG HER.
You know, I wish people loved one another again like that, don’t you? Oh, my, they’re COLD, aren’t they? Just as cold as a WART ON A PICKLE …
I never seen anything in my life like it. Oh, it’s terrible. NOBODY HAS ANY MORE FRIENDSHIP.
Brother Arganbright, you remember long years ago, when we used to have the farm, and something went wrong with the neighbor over there?
He got sick; and we’d go over and cut his wood, and get the corn in, and plow the corn, or whatever it was.
WE HELPED TAKE CARE OF ONE ANOTHER.
Now, you don’t know your neighbor’s dead till you read it in the paper or somewhere. That’s right.
WE DON’T HAVE NO MORE LOVE ONE FOR ANOTHER.
And we come out, right here not long ago. People don’t even act right to one another.
I was going downtown…(She’ll get me for this, my wife.) So I was going downtown; this lady said, “Hello, Sister Branham.”
I looked over to her, and I said, “Meda.” I said, “That lady spoke to you.”
She said, “I spoke.”
I said, “How did she hear it when I couldn’t hear it setting near you? And I know my ears is good; my hearing’s all right.” I said, “How—how’d she hear you?”
She said, “I—I—I smiled.”
I said, “Oh, my…” A little, old silly grin.
Now, THAT AIN’T SPEAKING. No, sir, I like a good, old fashioned, PUMP HANDLED HANDSHAKE like that. I—I LIKE TO FEELED IT.
The Unchangeable Word Of God
W M B ~ And the next morning, them blanket heathens, walking down the street in Durban South Africa singing, “Only Believe” behind seven truck loads where twenty-five thousand miracles were performed in one minute.
And we are SMART and EDUCATED (See?), and we set like a wart on a pickle.
Don’t know…“The ox knows his stall. THE MULE KNOWS THE MASTER’s CRIB; MY PEOPLE KNOWS NOT.”
Well, that ought to shake your heart to say, “Lord God, I am healed. I believe it.”
Be Certain Of God
W M B ~ And it’s got to a place till when you go to the churches, it’s either SO COLD AND FORMAL and dry, till the SPIRITUAL THERMOMETER WILL GO FIFTY BELOW ZERO.
The people set just like a wart on a pickle, just as SOUR and INDIFFERENT and PUCKERED UP.
And if you hear somebody, way back there in the corner, might GRUNT OUT A LITTLE “AMEN,” once in a while, LIKE IT HURTS THEM, all of them will stretch their neck like geese, to look around, see what took place.
You know that’s the truth. I’m not saying that for a joke. This is no place to joke. That’s the Truth. Right. I’m saying it because it’s the Gospel Truth.
Hebrews, Chapter Seven #1
W M B ~ I believe it’s a good thing. Sure it is, as long as there’s a good spiritual college, send him away. But when you take him to these OLD, COLD, FORMAL MORGUES …
You know what a MORGUE is:
WHERE SOMEBODY’s DEAD and they take him there and PUMP SOMETHING IN HIM, KEEP HIM DEAD.
The Faith That Was Once Delivered To The Saints
W M B ~ They think their body’s so pretty they have to show it. Don’t you realize that’s the devil?
That’s right. Stripping their clothes, only the insane does that. Legion did it because he was crazy. Notice!
And we have that, but that’s called “style,” that’s called “modern.”
WE CALL IT “THE DEVIL!”
I got the Bible to prove that it’s the devil. IT’S DEVIL POSSESSION, demon possession (not oppression).
Possession, HE’S GOT YOU! That’s right.
Tell them about it? They’ll blow up. They want nothing to do with It! No, sir.
THEY GOT THEIR OWN IDEAS, BECAUSE AT THEIR MORGUE THEY GO TO, THEY NEVER REBUKE IT.
Sex appeal is practiced in schools and in churches, and PASTORS ARE AFRAID TO REBUKE IT, very seldom anything.
The Evening Messenger
● SHARE the link BELOW. There are over 1000 Quotes separated into topics to help you study God’s Words of Life.