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 Every
preacher, elder, personal worker who has tried to stir dead or
dying coals into live hot saints, has met the “I’ve Been
Baptized” routine in one form or another. “Our family been
Church of Christers from way back!” “All the big - name
preachers stayed at our house!” “I helped build the church
(building) back in my home town!” And so, on and on.
Someone
has said, “The Baptist preach the impossibility of apostasy;
but we practice it.” Well, it’s nothing for which either
should be proud. Actually, the better one’s background and
opportunity to learn and grow, the greater is one’s
responsibility.
So,
do not allow the humor (?) of the following poem to hide its
more serious aspects.
TICKET FER HEAVEN!
Well,
I wuz baptized on a cold winter day, They busted thu ice and
they pushed it away; And Old Brother Sloakum, thu pioneer, Thu
one whut’s famous fer bein’ queer, Wuz thu one whut put me
under then, And I ain’t about tu do hit agin
Praise thu Lord!! I bin baptized!
Oh,
I ain’t tu strong fer churchin’ ways,
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With thu hypocrites they’ve got these
days: I’ll take me a nip, and a snort er two, And I may be
awhoopin’ afore I’m through;
But
I got me a record, and don’t you ferget, Hit’s good hard
proof thet I’ve been wet
Praise thu Lord!! I bin baptized!
When
I wuz a boy in Tennessee, Some big-meetin’ preachers laid
their hands on me; I’ve set on the knee of Old Brother Tant,
And heard more preachin’ ‘n you can shake a stick at;
Hardeman, Nichols, and Old Joe Blue, Has stayed at our house,
and they’d tell you
Praise thu Lord!! He’s bin baptized!
So come snoopin’ around our place,
Disturbin’ my coon-hounds, and tellin’ Grace ‘Bout mendin’
our ways, and livin’ by thu rules, And bringin’ our kids to
thu Sunday Schools; I got me a Bible, in thu trunk somewheres,
And a genuwine record whut’s writ in there
Praise thu Lord!! I bin baptized!
(Yep, I done it! Robert F. Turner)
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