I would be glad if you would remember
my ministry in your prayer.
I'm over the three score years and ten
now, into my seventy-second year.
Naturally at that age you begin to number
your days.
I want to use them for the best,
and my first priority is to write, because
after I write, what I write may be
read after I've gone.
On top of that, a pastor of one
of the largest churches in California, who has
about ten thousand attending a Sunday, asked me
to come and preach one Sunday a month,
and he said he would videotape the addresses.
I've just tried them out.
I'm lecturing in January for three hours a
day at Fuller Theological Seminary, and three hours
is rather a lot to be on your
feet lecturing.
So I hit on the idea of lecturing
for an hour, then showing one of the
videotapes, while I went and had coffee, and
then came back and lectured for another hour.
It didn't always work.
For instance, I turned over two tapes, said
I'd be gone for an hour.
When I came back, instead of listening to
the second tape, the students were having a
prayer meeting.
They'd been stirred by the first tape.
I'd be glad if you'd pray about that.
Then a colleague of mine, who was actually
preaching with me in 1933, as a young
layman as I was, Stanley Donnan, now retired,
an electronics wizard, has been trying to put
together any tapes, audio tapes, that he's found,
trying to make a library of them.
He's not a businessman, but I said I'd
be very glad if you'd do it.
So by the way, I hope you'll send
a set of the tapes from here to
Mr. Donnan, or send it to me and
I'll give them to him.
So these are ways of extending ministry.
But no one's indispensable in the Lord's work,
yet I feel that whatever I've learned from
the Lord about the subject of revival, I
want to pass on.
Now as far as the concluding word is
concerned, I have sought the Lord's guidance.
I'm sure on a night like this, when
there's so much snow around, most of those
who have attended are already committed Christians.
Yet I haven't been able to throw off
the impression that I should speak on the
way of salvation.
You know what the hymn says, tell me
the old, old story, for those that know
it best are hungering and thirsting to hear
it like the rest.
Yet there may be someone here for whom
it's meant.
If for instance anyone wants to wait behind
to talk to me, I'll be glad to
talk to them.
So it's not possible for me to say
goodbye to all my friends afterwards.
I would like to thank them for their
encouragement here, and I'd like to say that
it's been home from home to stay with
the connects in their home.
I find it's quite the fashion nowadays for
people to put a visiting preacher in a
motel.
I don't like it.
I think of the lifelong friendships I've made
through staying in homes.
But you know people are ready to do
that, just to put granny and grandpa in
an old people's home rather than have them
stay around.
They put preachers off by themselves in a
hotel.
Some prefer it, but not me.
I'm a family type.
All right then, final message tonight.
Last Sunday night I spoke on repentance.
Do you remember?
What does the word mean?
It means to change.
And I told you the first word in
the mouth of John the Baptist, the Lord
Jesus Christ, the Twelve Disciples, the Seventy Disciples,
the Apostle Peter, the Apostle Paul, is the
word repent, which means to change.
Now when Billy Graham went to Haringey, one
of the bishops over there criticized him and
said there was far too much emphasis upon
decision.
He said decision is not a New Testament
word.
That discipleship is much more important.
Well of course Billy Graham himself would have
agreed that discipleship is much more important than
decision.
What would a decision be without discipleship?
But if I'd been there, I would have
told the bishop that decision is in the
New Testament.
Not quite the same word, but the word
repentance means a change of attitude.
How could you change your attitude without so
deciding?
Supposing a boy decides to run away from
home, he gets as far as New York,
then he repents, turns right about face, comes
back again.
Can he do that without deciding?
Of course not.
The trouble is the word repentance, because as
I said, it's lost its meaning, has been
replaced with this word decision.
And when Billy Graham speaks of the hour
of decision, he really means the hour of
individual repentance.
So I want to talk to you about
decision.
We make decisions every day of our lives.
My wife was born in Africa, the only
member of our family to be naturalized.
My father was an American citizen, though I
was born in Ireland, I didn't need to
be naturalized.
If you're born in a stable, it doesn't
make you a horse, you know.
I find I was an American citizen by
birth, but my wife had to be naturalized.
And I learned something of it.
You have to declare your intention first of
all, and then after a period of residence,
you take the oath of allegiance.
In marriage, there's a double decision.
You must have the intention, you apply for
a license.
That doesn't make you married.
You must declare your truth before witnesses, in
a church or in a civil ceremony.
When I enlisted in the Air Force, I
first of all wrote to the chief of
chaplains, announced my intention of becoming a chaplain.
They informed me of the requirements, and in
due course I was notified to proceed to
4th Army Headquarters and take the oath as
an officer.
In matriculation into university, you declare your intention.
The university examines your fitness, and finally you
are matriculated.
They make much more of that in British
universities than over here.
By the way, when I was in my
teens, I took the University of London matriculation
examination, and the University of Chicago offered me
two years' credit for it.
So a matriculation certificate means something.
But it begins with an intention, ends with
a declaration.
These decisions don't last forever.
You may decide what to have for breakfast.
That's a decision, but it's not a lasting
decision.
You may decide where to go to college.
Once you're through, you enter the profession of
your choice.
You may decide to enter military service.
You do so for a period of a
year's service.
But when you make a decision for Christ,
it's an eternal decision.
It's for this life and the life to
come.
Therefore I won't make an apology for speaking
on life's greatest decision.
You may be surprised to know that in
the 10th chapter of the Epistle to the
Romans, there's a short passage of scripture, six
verses, that deal with this subject.
I'll read them to you.
Romans chapter 10, beginning at verse 8.
But what does the scripture say?
The word is near you, on your lips
and in your heart, that is, the word
of faith which we preach.
Because if you confess with your lips that
Jesus is Lord and believe in your heart
that God raised him from the dead, you
will be saved.
For man believes with his heart and so
is justified, and he confesses with his lips
and so is saved.
The scripture says no one who puts his
trust in him will be put to shame.
There is no distinction between Jew and Greek.
The same Lord is Lord of all, bestows
his riches upon all who call upon him.
For everyone who calls upon the name of
the Lord will be saved.
Those six verses contain the kernel of the
gospel.
Now, some of you may say that it
didn't mention the word repent.
The Apostle Paul said, Whereupon, O King Agrippa,
I was not disobedient to the heavenly vision,
but first at Damascus, then at Jerusalem, then
throughout Judea, then to the nations.
I told them they should repent and turn
to God, and produce works meet for such
repentance.
He never gave up preaching repentance.
This is related to his main message, and
I want you to take it in.
Believe it or not, once I was a
sports reporter in Ireland.
My editor told me once, the secret of
good reporting is get the facts.
You may write a clumsy sentence, we can
always rewrite it.
You may misspell a word, we can always
correct the spelling.
But if you don't get the facts, we
can't invent them.
So you should always ask yourself the question,
who did it?
How was it done?
How did it happen?
What was involved?
Where?
When?
And I'm going to take those interrogative pronouns
tonight.
Who must decide?
Why must we decide?
How do we decide?
What does the decision involve?
Where and when?
You'll find all the answers in those six
verses, keep them open before you.
Who must decide?
Well, you'll find it says there is no
distinction between Jew and Greek.
The same Lord is Lord of all, bestows
his riches upon all who call upon him.
There is no distinction between Jew and Greek.
You say I'm neither Jewish nor Greek.
This doesn't apply to me.
But the Apostle Paul was not referring to
nationality.
You may say well I'm Canadian, I'm Mexican,
I'm an American citizen.
You may say anything you wish to say,
but he's not referring to nationality as such.
There is no distinction between Jew and Greek.
In those days the Jew was the God
-fearing man.
So far as a personal God, a creator,
is concerned, the Greeks were a godless people.
They believed in many gods, the creation of
their own imagination.
The Jew was the church-going man.
The Greek was the pleasure-seeking man.
The Jew was the religious man.
The Greek was the irreligious man.
And the Apostle Paul is saying, whether you're
religious or not, whether you go to church
or not, whether you fear God or not,
you must come to decision.
This seems to hit church-going people harder
than non-church-going people.
I remember in Bombay, an Indian came to
me and said, Thank you, Sahib, for your
sermon.
I said, Thank you.
He said, Are you a Christian?
I said, Oh yes, I am a Christian.
He said, How long have you been a
Christian?
I said, I've been a Christian all my
life.
He said, Surely you've had some personal experience,
you've been converted or confirmed your faith in
some way.
I said, Sahib, you do not understand.
It was not I that was converted, it
was my great-great-grandfather.
He was converted and brought the whole family
out of Hinduism into the Christian faith.
So he said, Not only am I a
Christian, but I come from a long line
of Christians.
I said, You know the Taj Mahal Hotel?
He said, Yes.
I said, Suppose you saw a young couple
having breakfast there, and they look just like
a honeymoon couple, and you say to the
young man tactfully, Have you been married long?
He said, We're not married.
But our parents were married, our grandparents were
married, our great-grandparents were married, and we
both come from a long line of married
people.
Even my Indian friend laughed at that.
My father and mother brought me up with
a hearty respect for holy matrimony, but it
didn't make me married.
That was a personal decision.
But not only in India, but in the
United States.
A man told me, I'm a Presbyterian from
a way back.
I said, From how far back?
He said, The Revolutionary War.
So I said, Did you know George Washington
personally?
How could you be a Presbyterian from a
way back?
Yet that's the basis of so many people's
profession.
It's family religion.
I just read the other day, some young
fellow says, I've lost my faith.
He went to university.
He said, You haven't lost your faith, the
pastor said.
You've lost your parents' faith.
Why don't you get one of your own?
That's the point.
Who must decide?
Everyone, religious or non-religious, church-going or
non-church-going.
Believers or atheists.
Who?
Everyone.
That brings us to the second question.
Why?
Again, you'll find the answer here.
Why must this decision be made?
Verse 10 says, Man believes with his heart
and so is justified.
He confesses with his lips and so is
saved.
There are two theological words, and some people
don't like them.
Man, justified, saved.
He believes with his heart in order to
be justified.
We talked about that one night.
What does it mean to be justified?
To be set right.
That supposes there's something wrong with us.
We need to be set right.
If you want to know anything about the
sinfulness of human nature, go and talk to
the police or the FBI.
It's more than a theological question.
We know there's something wrong with human nature.
We need to be set right.
We need to be saved.
When we were in Brazil, my wife got
a telegram from Africa to say that her
sister, who had married a Baptist minister and
gone to Central Africa, was critically ill, terminally
ill with cancer.
My wife took the children and crossed the
South Atlantic, made arrangements for the children, went
up into Central Africa, and nursed her sister
until she died.
The doctor told her that her sister must
have had cancer for about eleven years.
This was surprising.
She was such a healthy woman.
But then my wife remembered that some eleven
years before, she claimed a backache.
Apparently it had slowly metastasized.
A Melbourne specialist said something to me that
sounded brutal.
He said, I wish cancer hurt more.
I wish it were more painful.
I said, what?
He said, I wish it hurt more at
the beginning when we could do something for
it.
That's the trouble.
In its early stages, we're not aware of
it.
I don't mean to harrow anyone's feelings, but
perhaps one in ten listening to me has
cancer.
Maybe I have.
And isn't that a type of sin?
You don't need to be public enemy number
one to be a sinner.
You do read of some shocking crimes these
days, but it isn't only shocking criminals that
are sinners.
We're all sinners.
We fall short.
Why do we need to make a decision?
Because we need to be saved.
The very promise is made, thou shall call
his name Jesus, for he shall save his
people from their sins.
Not only from the consequences of their sins,
but from their sins.
We've asked two questions.
Who must decide?
Everyone.
Why?
Because we're all sinners.
So it brings us to the natural question,
how do we make such a decision?
You must confess with your mouth.
You must have the right intention.
You must give the proper declaration.
Both.
Some people do one without the other.
I remember at the end of World War
II, a friend of mine who had fought
in Montgomery's army in North Africa asked me
to go to his wedding.
I went, but I was extremely ill at
ease.
There was something about that girl's attitude that
made me uneasy.
In fact, some days before the wedding, I
said to him, are you sure you're doing
the right thing?
And he said rather crossly, it's rather late
to talk about it, we're getting married on
Tuesday.
I'm glad he didn't ask me to perform
the ceremony, it would have been on my
conscience.
Well, about a month later, he came to
see me and he said, I'm in trouble.
I said, what's your trouble?
He said, my wife.
Well, I said, you've only been married four
weeks, perhaps it takes a little while to
get adjusted.
Look, he said, we went to Edinburgh for
our honeymoon and she wouldn't even speak to
me.
I said, what do you mean she wouldn't
speak to you?
He said, she's hot, you know, like a
schoolgirl.
I'm not speaking to you.
I had to admit it was a bad
start.
So I said, are you living together like
man and wife?
He said, we've got an apartment.
I didn't ask you that.
I said, are you living together like man
and wife?
No, he said, we're like two disagreeable lodgers.
Oh, he said, she makes my breakfast for
me.
He said, should I divorce her?
I said, you don't need to divorce her.
If you go to the judge and tell
him what you told me, the judge will
annul the marriage.
It's not enough for a girl to take
the vows of marriage.
She must mean it.
And there's such a thing as consummation of
a marriage.
She must mean it.
But the opposite is also true, isn't it?
When I was in business in Ireland, there
was a young lady in our office, engaged
to be married, but her boyfriend was one
of these terribly shy fellows from the country.
Every time she said, John, don't you think
we ought to get married next June?
He got so scared he went away and
didn't come back for two weeks.
When I knew then they'd been engaged 17
years.
He had bought her a lovely diamond engagement
ring, but you don't even admire it if
you said, oh, Ruby, what a lovely ring.
She thought you were being sarcastic.
She'd caught the fish, but she couldn't land
him.
In fact, after the war, when I went
back to my native city, one of the
first things I asked when I went to
see my old friends at work, whatever happened
to John and Ruby?
They said he was killed during the blitz.
He was a gentleman with the right intention,
but he wasn't willing to make the declaration.
It must be both.
You must confess with your lips.
You must believe in your heart.
You must be prepared to say so, but
you also must believe it in your heart.
I once flew into Chicago to see an
old professor of mine.
He said, where did you come from?
I said, Los Angeles.
When did you leave?
I said, this morning.
He said, did this jet travel?
You know, he said, when I was young,
it took two and a half days by
train to go to Los Angeles.
I said, still it takes a couple of
days.
I said, Professor, you travel for the seminary
in the summer.
Why don't you fly?
No, he said, I go by train.
But I said, Los Angeles, you'd say two
days going and two days coming back.
I know.
But I go by train, as nature intended,
he said.
Well, I said, are you scared of flying?
No, he said, insurance rates are much the
same for rail travel as air travel.
In fact, he said, you're more in danger
of being knocked down on Washington Boulevard here
in Chicago.
I said, then are you afraid you might
get on a plane for Los Angeles and
end up in Havana?
No, he said, I think they'd take me
where I'm supposed to go.
I said, then why don't you fly?
Don't you believe in aviation?
He said, yes, but not that much.
Now, he believed in flying.
So did I.
What was the difference?
I bought my ticket, checked through the gate,
walked up the ramp, found my seat, fastened
my seatbelt, and committed myself to the pilot.
You must confess with your lips.
You must believe in your heart.
Now, perhaps the most important question is, what
does this decision involve?
I mean, decide about what?
Again, we have it here, very clearly.
If you confess with your lips that Jesus
is Lord, and believe in your heart that
God raised him from the dead, you will
be saved.
You see, it doesn't concern a religion.
It concerns a person.
I remember speaking for InterVarsity at the University
of Chicago, and a girl raised her hand,
she said, I don't understand all this.
If a man believes in communism, he's a
communist.
If he believes in socialism, he's a socialist.
She said, I believe in Christianity, am I
not a Christian?
I said, not necessarily so.
She said, then I don't get it.
I noticed she was wearing an engagement ring,
so I said, could I ask you a
personal question?
She said, yes.
I said, do you believe in marriage?
She said, obviously, I'm engaged to be married.
I said, would you stand up and tell
all the girls present why you believe in
marriage?
She kept her seat.
She said, that's too personal.
Oh, I said, forget about your boyfriend.
Tell us why you believe in marriage as
an institution, a philosophy.
I said, no, love is blind, and marriage
is the institution for the blind.
She smiled, she got up, she said, I
haven't given this much organized thought, but marriage
gives a woman a career, a home of
her own, a family of her own, social
prestige.
Oh, she said, there are many good reasons
for marriage.
So I said, so you believe in marriage?
She said, yes, sir.
I said, I wonder how many girls here
present believe in marriage like that.
There was a lot of giggling, and then
they all raised their hands except one.
I said, girls, I'm a chaplain of the
United States Air Force, and I'm recognized by
the state of Illinois to perform marriages.
This young lady says, if you believe in
communism, you're a communist.
If you believe in Christianity, you're a Christian.
Now I understand you all believe in marriage.
I said, why wait?
Allow me to pronounce you all married.
Well, there was a roar of protest.
One girl said, you're making fun of us.
Another girl shouted, you've got to get a
guy.
Well, I said, what was wrong with what
I said?
This girl said, oh, Mr. Orr, marriage is
not a philosophy, it's a personal relationship.
I said, exactly.
To be a Christian is not a philosophy.
You don't decide that Christianity is a better
philosophy than Buddhism, or whatever.
You simply put your trust in a person,
a living person.
You must believe in your heart that he's
alive right now.
But you must also confess that he is
the Lord.
Most people confess he was a great teacher,
a great man, a great martyr.
But that's not what's involved.
You must confess that he is Lord.
My son David, who's now a lawyer, came
home from Sunday school when he was about
four, talking very cheerfully about God.
God said this and God said that.
God did the other thing.
I was a little curious.
I said, David, what do you think God
is like?
He said, that's easy, Daddy.
I said, easy?
We were taught that God is omnipotent, omniscient,
omnipresent, transcendent, immanent, immutable, immeasurable, eternal.
I said, it's easy.
He said, yes, Daddy.
I said, what's God like?
He said, God's just like Jesus.
And I couldn't say anything better than that.
He is the living revelation of God.
In him dwelt all the fullness of the
Godhead bodily.
The prophet said, Thus saith the Lord.
He said, Verily, verily, I say unto you.
His deity is clearly taught, and this you
must believe.
So it brings us to the last question.
Where and when?
Well, here's the word again.
Verse eight.
The word is near you, on your lips,
and in your heart.
That is the word of faith which we
preach.
What word?
Phillips translates it, the secret of believing.
Surely you've met somebody who seems to have
the secret of believing.
Sometimes you've said, I wish I had your
faith.
The word of faith.
The secret of believing is near you, as
close as your lips and your heart.
During the Battle of Manila, I was trying
to sleep one night while the artillery was
beating down the old wall city of Manila.
The Japanese fought to the last man.
I should have tried to go to sleep
first, but I like to read a little
while, get comfortable, and then go to sleep.
But I tried to sleep, I couldn't sleep.
There were twenty-five army cops in that
old tent.
Twenty-three other officers besides me.
There was always one frog in the pond
to start the other frogs croaking.
And soon they were all snoring.
Some snored bass, some baritone, some tenor.
I tried to sleep.
You have no idea the wrath that rises
in your throat when you try to sleep
and you have a barrage of snoring.
It must have been after midnight I heard
a step on the gravel path.
It was a pilot looking for a bed.
He had been flying all day and half
the night.
All he wanted was a place to lie
down.
When he came underneath the tent and heard
the barrage of snoring, he began to swear.
He said, where is that light?
Why doesn't the army do things right, bunch
of morons?
He said, if they're in business they'd be
bankrupt.
I said, if you stand right where you
are, reach out your right hand, you'll find
a cord hanging there.
I want to tell him, pull the cord,
the light will come on.
But he wouldn't let me finish.
He started swearing again.
I said, don't swear at me, I'm trying
to help you and you won't listen.
He could have sworn all night.
It wouldn't have helped him.
He could have asked me to give him
a diagram of the wiring of the tent.
He couldn't have seen it in the dark.
He could have asked me the nature of
electricity.
I wouldn't have told him even if I'd
known.
What did he need to do?
It was within his reach.
All he needed to do was pull on
the cord, the light came on, and his
bad temper evaporated.
He apologized for his bad language.
He didn't learn when the war would end
or when he'd be back stateside.
But he saw all he needed to see.
That's my illustration of this.
The word is near you, as close as
your lips and your heart.
The secret of faith.
Suppose you put it up.
It's still the same decision tomorrow.
You must confess with your lips, you must
believe in your heart.
Suppose you say, wait till I graduate from
college.
Still the same decision, believe in your heart,
confess with your lips.
Wait till I get married, believe in your
heart, confess with your lips.
Wait till I retire, confess with your lips,
believe in your heart.
Wait till my deathbed.
And the minister who prays with you can't
tell you anything more than believe in your
heart, confess with your lips.
So in that sense, it's as close to
you as it ever will be.
As close as your lips and your heart.
The secret of believing.
Yes.
I was in Lapland, among the reindeer, when
I decided to propose to the girl that
I married.
And the trouble was, she was in Africa.
So I had to propose by cable.
I could hardly wait till that cable came
back, and she turned me down.
But I sent another cable saying I was
coming anyway.
So I traveled all the way out.
When I got there, I traveled away upcountry.
Finally, when I met her, I proposed to
her on the station platform.
And I proposed to her every day after
that.
She must have married me to get rid
of me.
On our honeymoon, I said to her, when
did you actually decide to marry me?
And she said coyly, wouldn't you like to
know?
I said, that's why I'm asking.
After all, I had proposed every day.
So I was a little curious to know
when.
Well, she told me it was in such
and such an evening.
Gosh, why didn't you tell me then?
She said, I wanted to be sure.
Mother advised this, my sister advised that.
Somebody else advised something else.
It was a big decision to leave home
and travel all around the world.
Your kind of life.
She said, I want it to be my
decision.
So she waited till next morning, and then
she told me.
I'm glad she told me.
You don't like anyone else to tell you.
So I said to her, let's go and
tell your mother, her best friend.
That night we announced our engagement.
Her brother was a station master.
At dinner.
When we were married, it was a public
ceremony.
I had to get a special license because
I traveled out a long distance and didn't
live there.
At the day of the wedding, she could
have backed out.
That's a woman's privilege.
Up to that moment, she could have backed
out.
But once she said it publicly, it was
final.
Now why do I say this?
Because far too often we put the cart
before the horse regarding making a decision for
Christ.
Sometimes we expect people to make a public
declaration before they've made a private decision.
Therefore, I think I'll conclude this meeting by
saying, you know enough to decide.
It's as close as your lips and your
heart.
Why don't you decide in your heart first?
And in due course, you can let the
world know.
Let us bow in prayer.
Who must decide?
Everyone, including you.
Why?
Every last one of us is a sinner,
needs to be saved.
How?
It's too full, we believe in the heart,
confess with the lips.
What?
That Jesus is Lord, that he's alive today.
Where and when?
Here and now.
Today is the day of salvation.
Now is the accepted time.
You know enough to decide.
So why don't you just say in your
heart, I want to be a true Christian.
Now if you are already a true Christian,
you don't need to say that.
If I said to my wife, don't you
think we ought to get married, she'd say,
we are married.
If you are a true Christian, you've no
doubt about it, you're satisfied, you don't need
to make a decision.
But if you're not sure, or not satisfied,
or if you frankly realize you're not converted,
your life hasn't changed, you've never truly repented,
changed your attitude and turned around, then you
can decide right now.
Just simply tell the person most concerned, Lord,
I want to be a true Christian.
I've tried to make it so clear that
I wouldn't need to answer any questions further.
But if you've said in your heart, Lord,
I want to be a true Christian, I'll
be glad to pray for you.
Is there anyone here tonight who did say
already, right now, Lord, I want to be
a true Christian.
I'd like to pray for you.
How can I pray for you if you
don't let me know?
This is private.
I understand your feelings.
But if you prayed that prayer, would you
let me know simply by raising your hand
quickly and taking it down again?
I'll pray for you.
Yes, God bless you.
Anyone else?
Yes, I see your hand.
Anyone else, you say, Lord, I want to
be a true Christian.
I'll pray for you.
Raise your hand, take it down again.
Yes, I see your hand too.
Anyone else?
Now remember, if you are a true Christian,
you don't need my prayers.
But if you're not sure, if you're not
satisfied, or if you just know you're not
converted, I'd be glad to pray for you.
Anyone else, just raise your hand and take
it down again.
I'll pray for you.
Lord, we pray for those who have sought
prayer, that this may become a real experience,
true faith, for Jesus' sake.
Amen.
Now before we close, I'd like to say
something else.
I was converted on the 15th of January,
1921.
And let's see, that's 62 years ago.
Is there anyone here who was converted more
than 62 years ago?
Would you raise your hand?
Alright then, let's say, is there anyone here
who was converted more than 50 years ago?
Would you raise your hand?
Where was it?
Where?
In Warrilson Memorial Church, 50 years ago?
51 years ago.
I'm only going to ask one question.
Are you sorry you made the decision?
Never.
Is there anyone here who made the decision
for Christ between 40 and 50 years ago?
Would you raise your hand?
Yes.
Where was it?
April 1933.
Southport, near Johnstown, Pennsylvania.
Could I ask you, are you sorry you
made that decision?
Anyone who made a decision for Christ between
30 and 40 years ago, would you raise
your hand?
Where was it?
In Ohio.
Are you sorry?
Anyone between 20 and 30 years ago, would
you raise your hand?
This lady back here, where was it?
In Minnesota.
Are you sorry you made that decision?
Well, I don't want to prolong the questions,
but anyone made a decision for Christ in
1982 or this year, 1983, would you raise
your hand?
Where was it?
Right here.
Are you sorry you made that decision?
Now you may say, why are you asking
such obvious questions?
I have met men in the Army who
wished they were in the Navy.
I have met people in Minnesota who wished
they were in Florida.
I have met people who were married and
wished they were single.
I have met people who were single and
wished they were married.
I have never yet met a person who
was truly converted and was sorry.