A Strange Challenge.

(an excerpt from the book ‘A Man Called Of God’ by Gordon Lindsay)
The doors of the great municipal auditorium of the City of Portland, Oregon, were opened early that November evening of the year . At six o’clock many people had already stood in line for a long time awaiting opportunity to enter and secure a choice seat. When the caretaker at the appointed time went his rounds to unlock the doors, he was somewhat puzzled to find such a large crowd awaiting him. It was a little strange, he observed, for there had been no unusual advertising, and religious services, even when extensively advertised, as he remembered, rarely attracted enough people to fill more than a fraction of the auditorium.

The caretaker could have noticed also that the people did not follow the common custom in church services of filling up the center and rear pews first, but rather rushed forward to get the seats nearest the front. But soon these were gone, and those toward the rear and in the balconies were occupied also. Once more the caretaker had reason to take note, for firemen assigned to the routine duty of seeing that city ordinances regarding public safety were observed sent word to him that the building was full and that he must at once shut the doors and see that no one else entered.

There was, perhaps, more than one unusual feature to this meeting. Ministers from the ranks of many denominations occupied a large section of seats on the platform. If all who were in the auditorium were counted, they undoubtedly would have numbered several hundred. Such a gathering of local and out of city ministers to a revival service was a rare occurrence in the city, and no doubt had never been witnessed on such a scale before.

What was the attraction that had brought together this large concourse of people? It was not the singing or the special music. For although both were excellent and inspiring, yet it was evident that the people were waiting with restrained impatience until the preliminaries would be concluded in anticipation of what was to follow.

The cause of this large gathering could be stated in few words. It had been told over the city that a man by the name of William Branham was coming to town and would speak in the Municipal Auditorium. Concerning this man, it was said that an angel had appeared to him in a special visitation, and gifts of healing were being manifest in his ministry. For, believe it or not, despite the trend of materialistic thinking that has engulfed the intelligentsia and the schools of learning of our day, it is evident that deep down in the heart of the human being there does and always will exist a longing for the manifestation of the power of the supernatural. Man lives a fleeting fragile life in a world marked everywhere by decay, disintegration and death. Materialistic and modernistic theology, which have nothing to offer man one moment after his death, cannot satisfy the inherent longing of the human soul for survival. In the world confused by a thousand conflicting voices, each claiming authority and clamoring for recognition, it is not unnatural that man should long for some visible manifestation of the power of God to confirm and attest to the genuineness of the message of those who speak. Jesus did not deny this fundamental urge and desire of the human soul, for He declared,… “I am the Son of God. If I do not the works of my Father, believe me not. But if I do, though ye believe not me, believe the works: that ye may know, and believe, that the Father is in me, and I in Him.”

The services of the first two nights aroused tremendous interest; and now on the third night the building was filled with people waiting again for the speaker to appear. The writer, who was directing this brief campaign, in preparing to turn the service over to the evangelist asked the people to stand to their feet and sing the chorus, “Only believe, only believe, all things are possible, only believe.” While the great congregation sang, a slight little man with modest demeanor and a friendly smile entered, then came and stood behind the pulpit. The singing ceased, and a hush fell over the audience as it listened intently when he began to speak. As he proceeded, it was apparent that the listeners were impressed by the graciousness of the speaker as well as his evident sincerity and humility. The evangelist, taking the thought of faith inspired by the chorus that had been sung, began the theme of his message. “Yes,” said he, “All things are possible to him that believeth. There is nothing that can stand before faith in God, and if the people here tonight will believe God with me, we shall see that God will honor that faith and confirm it before the eyes of this entire congregation.”

As the audience listened with rapt attention to the slight little figure on the platform, perhaps only one anticipated the startling drama that was about to unfold. Certainly the director had no such intuition, and the interruption which was about to occur could not have been more unwelcome. For suddenly our attention was directed to a man far back in the building who was making rapid strides, apparently in the direction of the platform. At first we supposed that some emergency had arisen; perhaps someone had fainted or had taken seriously ill in the auditorium. But as he drew near, we observed with no little misgiving that his countenance bore a demoniac grin, as to suggest that the man was demented, or violently insane, and apparently had broken away from those who had him in their care. We were to learn later what indeed would have been more disturbing had we known it at the time, that the man was not insane, in that he did not know what he was doing, but was a notorious and vicious character who had previously run afoul of the law 11 for disturbing and breaking up religious services. Jail sentences had not taught him a lesson, and now seeing his opportunity to cause a large commotion and again break up a service, he had come forward for that purpose.

Up the steps he strode without pausing. Now he was on the platform assuming a menacing attitude that by this time was attracting the attention of the entire congregation. Two sturdy policemen standing in the wings, becoming aware of the distraction, were about to come forward and lay hands on this disturber, but we could see that this would result in a scuffle and the excitement created could well ruin the service. Moreover, the evangelist had apparently put himself on the spot for he had just declared that all things were possible to him that believed, and that God would always back up His servants who put their trust in Him. Indeed, the meeting had reached such a high state of expectation, that reliance on the officers of the law, though perhaps entirely justifiable in the present instance, did not seem to be the Divine order. We knew nothing else to do but to hastily wave the officers back, and call attention to the evangelist as to what was taking place. But he himself was already conscious that something was wrong. Speaking quietly to the audience and requesting that the people unite with him in silent prayer, he turned to meet the strange challenge of this evil antagonist.

As he did so, the man with the evil gleam on his countenance, which reminded one of the hideous grins the heathen engrave on the faces of their idols, began to impudently accuse and curse the speaker. “You are of the devil, and deceiving the people,” he shouted, “an impostor, a snake in the grass, a fake, and I am going to show these people that you are!” It was a bold challenge and every one in that audience could see that it was not an idle threat. As the intruder continued to revile the evangelist, hissing and spitting, he made motion to carry his threats into execution. To the audience it appeared to be an evil moment for the little figure on the platform, and most of them must have felt exceedingly sorry for him. The officers attempted again to come to his aid but were waved away, and now in rejecting their assistance the speaker had deliberately accepted the challenge of this wicked antagonist whose size and fierceness had convinced the audience that he was well able to carry out his boasts. No doubt, critics who had slipped into the auditorium out of curiosity expected a swift and pitiful conclusion to the unexpected drama that was now coming to a climax. Certainly they could see that there was no room for trickery. The man on the platform would have to have the goods or else take the consequences.

In the moment of suspense that followed, one could not help being reminded of the story of the challenge of long ago, when the bold Goliath cursed little David in the name of his gods, and boasted that he would tear him limb from limb. The startled congregation, as the hosts of Israel must have been in their day, looked on the scene with wonder and amazement, hardly knowing what to expect next, but fearing the worst. The gathering of 12 ministers on the platform reviewed the situation with no little dismay, knowing that unless God did a very unusual thing and backed up the speaker in a supernatural manner, the evil intruder, who had successfully broken up religious services in the past, would now do so again. Some were much disturbed that the policemen had not been permitted to take charge of the situation and believed that this error of judgment would allow this demon possessed man not only to ruin the meeting and thus bring reproach on the cause of Christ, but also might actually result in physical injury to the speaker.

The seconds passed, however, without the awaited climax happening. Presently it appeared that something was hindering the challenger from carrying out his evil designs. For some reason he was not proceeding with the execution of his boasts of physical violence, but was rather contenting himself in hissing and spitting and uttering the most fearful imprecations. Softly but determinedly the voice of the evangelist now could be heard rebuking the evil power that dominated the man. His words, spoken so quietly that they could be heard only a short distance, were saying, “Satan, because you have challenged the servant of God before this great congregation, you must bow before me. In the name of Jesus Christ, you shall fall at my feet.” The words were repeated several times. The challenger ceased to speak, and it was evident that it was now he who was laboring under a strain. Strong as he and the wicked forces were that controlled him, strengthened by every evil spirit in the building, apparently they were gradually succumbing to another Power that was greater than they, a Power that responded at the whisper of the Name of Jesus! Soon it was evident that the man realized he was being overcome, but nothing he could do apparently could reverse the situation. A tense battle of spiritual forces now summoned every bit of strength that he had in him. Beads of perspiration broke out on his face as he put forth a last desperate effort to prevail. But it was all to no avail. Suddenly he who a few minutes before had so brazenly defied the man of God with his fearful threats and accusations, gave an awful groan and slumped to the floor sobbing in an hysterical manner. For quite a while he lay there writhing in the dust, as the evangelist calmly proceeded with the service as if nothing had happened.

Needless to say, the great congregation was awed by the scene that had transpired before them, in which God so signally vindicated His servant, and loud praises to God filled the spacious auditorium. The policemen too, startled by what they had witnessed, openly acknowledged that God was in their midst. Need we record that in the healing service which followed, a wave of glory was manifest that will never be forgotten by those who were present. Many miracles of healing took place that night as a multitude of people were ministered to in the prayer line.

But who was this little man who spoke with such words of authority and whose ministry had been confirmed by such a remarkable demonstration of Divine power? His name was 13 William Branham, of Jeffersonville, Indiana, and his ministry was to have wider and wider reverberations until, at the time of this writing, the effect of it has reached throughout the world. Many in the City of Portland that night glorified God, for they knew that He had again visited His people. Many ministers too, realized that God had come into their midst in special power. They believed that what they had witnessed was a token of greater things that God was preparing to do for His people. Some, indeed, had their ministry revolutionized. Among these was a young preacher, whose wife had witnessed the bold challenge of the demon possessed man. She persuaded her husband to attend on the last night. As he sat and watched a little deaf-mute child’s ears opened so it could hear and repeat words, God spoke to him, and said, “This is the work that I have called you to do also.” The next day he turned the responsibilities of his church over to certain members of his congregation and locked himself in his room, determining to remain there until he was sure God’s will had been revealed to him. Out of a period of earnest soul-searching was born a ministry that was to result in the salvation of thousands of souls and was to be accompanied by a multitude of signs, wonders and miracles. This young man was Evangelist T. L. Osborn.

Strangely enough, as the campaign concluded, we heard that a few doubted. Why would God choose a man of such unpretentious background, who had such a limited knowledge of this world’s wisdom? Nor could they understand the principle which Paul spoke of in I Cor, where he said, “For ye see your calling, brethren, how that not many wise men after the flesh, not many mighty, not many noble, are called: but God hath chosen the foolish things of the world to confound the wise; and God hath chosen the weak things of the world to confound the things which are mighty; and base things of the world, and things which are despised, hath God chosen, yea, and things which are not, to bring to naught things that are: that no flesh should glory in his presence.

But by far, the majority believed and rejoiced. Although it was physically impossible for the evangelist to minister, other than in the briefest fashion, to the thousands of disease ridden bodies who sought healing, yet it was remarkable the number of wonderful testimonies that came out of that meeting. And if those who allowed doubts to come into their minds did not profit to the extent that others did from the meeting, the many who did believe to this day point to that brief campaign in the City of Portland as an hour of visitation never to be forgotten.