Commandos I Have Known

W. Carl Ketcherside

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     Today I am going to write about some commandos for Christ whom I have met. It may be easier for you to grasp what I mean by commandos through learning of actual examples. But first, I must mention that I am spelling commandos differently than I did in January. Then I spelled it "commandoes." The change is not an accident. It is an illustration of how we may help one another.

     Our daughter, Sue, who lives in Denver is a critical reader of what her father writes, and not long ago she wrote that she wished I would not spell the word "commandoes," because the preferred spelling was without the "e". I have long ago learned that I can profit greatly by listening to my children and grandchildren. Besides that, I checked in my own dictionary and found that Sue was correct.

     Commandos are soldiers who often fight apart from the regular army, but always as a part of it. They may drop behind the lines and have to fight their way out singlehandedly. They are where the action is! They must be versatile and inventive, adapting their strategy to the changing tides of the conflict. Sometimes they are misunderstood by the regulars, and frequently are under criticism by "the brass" who want to run "a spit and polish army" careful of its image.

     Commandos are rugged in-fighters who must stand up and slug it out with the foe. With them it is "do or die." They either win or perish for there may be no rescue squad when they are hemmed in and cut off. There can be no "gold-bricking" or "goofing off" because all that they hold dear is at stake. They are not rocking-chair soldiers or front-office generals.

     One of the first such soldiers of the cross whom I remember was a man with very little formal education. He was born in a rude cabin in the Missouri Ozarks to humble parents who were also illiterate. He grew up in a community where the settlers spent much of their time in drinking and fighting, but even as a boy he believed there was something better beyond the hills. As a young married man he came to know about Jesus in a backwoods campmeeting, but when he sought to become a preacher for the group his answers were too Biblical for the examining committee.

     Eventually he came in contact with the restoration movement and was intrigued with the possibility of being a Christian only. By this time he was a lead miner laboring each day for meager pay in the bowels of the earth. But each night in the glow of a kerosene lamp he hungrily read and studied the sacred scriptures. He was obsessed with the idea that he must share the good news with others. Soon he had the neighbors in the village coming to his primitive home every evening, sitting in the yard and listening to him as he spoke from the porch.

     So fervent was his proclamation, and so honest were his rough hearers, that one

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after another of the hard-rock miners gave up drinking and swearing to be immersed of him in a clear stream which flowed nearby. All day long he talked to his fellowhelpers underground and they enlisted under the banner of the King. At first these humble folk met in an open grove, but as the chill nights of autumn came they pooled their meager resources and purchased an abandoned saloon and converted it into a meetinghouse.

     Here men of little education, but caught up by a sense of urgency, exhorted one another and testified of the grace of God in their lives. Years went by and the one who began it all grew older. His spirit was never quenched. Congregations were established in the hill country and in villages. He walked hundreds of miles with the message. Always poor in this world's goods, his home was still ever open to the needy. The latchstring hung on the outside.

     In the closing months of his life, though retired from gainful employment, he labored almost singlehandedly to erect a meetinghouse where there had never been one before. Here he gathered a small handful of saints together and taught and shepherded them as he had done with so many other little bands in the past. With a firm resolution to visit every home in the town, he started out one morning on a task expected to cover many weary weeks of walking and knocking on doors. Before he had gone the first block, he threw up his hands in a convulsive gesture and fell in the street. A massive hemorrhage had exploded in his brain. His body hardly twitched where it had fallen in the dust. He died doing what he loved to do, with his armor buckled on and his face toward Jerusalem's walls.

     I know another man, who still lives, and who has been an inspiration to me. When I first met him he was a cotton farmer with a very meager education, laboring hard and long to eke out a living and educate his children. There were but few books in his plain home, and his vocabulary was limited, but he read the Bible with such avidity that he actually began to talk in the lovely cadence of the English of King James.

     In a home where hospitality ruled and no stranger was ever turned away the conversation soon turned to a discussion of the word of God, and it became so interesting that those who came for a few minutes lingered for hours. There was never an opportunity overlooked to share insights in the revealed truth of the ages.

     Finally, circumstances came about so that the little farm was sold, and the farmer began to work with a road-repair group. These men represented various shades of religious belief and opinion, but the one of whom we speak taught and shared constantly while working with the crew. One rainy day when the men sought shelter in a country schoolhouse he took advantage of the opportunity to go to the blackboard and lead a study for those who sat in their mud-stained overalls. His theme was the priesthood of all believers, and he illustrated with a crude chalk diagram as he talked.

     I cite these two cases to show that commandos for Christ are not necessarily drawn from the ranks of the intellectually elite. An uneducated lead miner and a humble cotton farmer, with hearts aflame for Jesus, have done more than thousands who have advanced degrees in some scholastic discipline. They labored without acceptance or encouragement because of their commitment to Him "whom having not seen we love."

     Then something happened. One night when the husband was in a distant city

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at a sales convention, the wife found herself strangely troubled and depressed, and unable to sleep. She arose and put on her dressing gown and went into the living-room. She felt an irresistible urge to pick up the Bible and read. She selected a copy of The New Testament in Modern English, and opened it at random. By sheer coincidence, she began at Matthew, chapter twenty, which records the parable of the farmer who went out early in the morning to employ workers for his vineyard.

     Although she was reading in a detached manner, a certain sentence seemed to leap out of the page and burn itself into her consciousness. "Then about five o'clock he went out and found others standing about. 'Why are you standing here all day doing nothing?' he asked them?" When she read this she could not erase it from her mind. A horrible feeling of emptiness and futility swept over her soul, bringing with it a gushing flood of memories.

     She saw again her childhood home in the country and the little rural meetinghouse where she had made her confession of faith in the Christ. She remembered the surge of joy which enveloped her when she was baptized and she thought of how far she had come to be able to dwell in such a beautiful home. All of a sudden the things in which she had shown so much pride seemed like ashes in her sight. She began to weep uncontrollably. She returned to her bedroom and got down upon her knees, placing her head on the edge of the bed as she used to do when a child. She prayed as she had never prayed before, confessing her guilt and failure, asking forgiveness and pleading with the Father to show her the way He would have her go.

     Finally she made a vow that she would not draw back but would accept any work in the vineyard without doubt or quibble. When she had said this a burden lifted from her heart and a feeling of peace came in to take its place. She lay down and slept beyond her regular waking time. The very next day the preacher called her and asked her if she would teach a class of little children in Vacation Bible Study. He explained that the church was going to make an all-out effort to improve its image in the community and see if they could offset the influence of the Baptist Church two blocks away, which had always enrolled a majority of the neighborhood children.

     Even as the preacher was talking there flashed over her being a feeling that she did not want to be a part of a political power struggle, in which little children were the pawns to project a partisan image. She would not give an immediate reply, but promised to pray about it. True to her word, she began to talk aloud to God while she was doing the luncheon dishes. She found this was strangely easy to do, although she had never done it before. And even while she was praying in this informal strain a thought struck her like a bolt out of the clear blue. Why should she drive twenty miles each day to teach a class of little boys and girls to enhance a "church image" when there were scores of boys and girls, Jew and non-Jew, playing in the streets of the very subdivision in which she lived?

     Immediately she dressed for calling and went to the homes of her neighbors and told them she would like to have their children come to her home each morning for two hours. She was going to convert her family room into a schoolroom where she would teach the children songs and choruses, tell them Bible stories and have them do memory work and present little skits and plays. Because there was no sectarian organization involved she found Jewish, Catholic and Protestant mothers willing to send their children.

     Soon these mothers were taking their turns coming and bringing cookies for refreshment, and listening to the recitations. The daily studies lasted during the entire school vacation and when the children returned to school the mothers requested a study period one afternoon per week, and they met to probe the Bible for the meaning of life--women who had been poles apart only a few months before.

     I must not leave this account without mentioning that the sister whose prayers

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had launched this invasion "behind the lines" was criticized by the preacher. She was told that she should have brought a carload of children ten miles to the church building where the teaching was under the supervision of the elders. The question was raised as to what would happen to the church if everyone began teaching somewhere else than at the "proper location."

     One day the brother of whom I write suggested that they each bring a copy of the new testament scriptures the following day and begin studying together thirty minutes daily while eating. Several opposed the idea because of a fear that it might lead to arguments but five agreed to participate. The next day nine men were in the group sitting on boxes in the warehouse, but four were mere listeners.

     They started with the gospel according to John at the suggestion of one of the men and when they begin sharing their views about miracles the group of onlookers grew until there were about twenty in the circle. More and more of them began to show up with testaments and the daily studies increased in interest. A sub-foreman who had scoffed at the idea at first began to edge closer and finally became convicted of his sin and privately asked the brother to baptize him. Others began coming to his house at night to talk with him further and eventually he had baptized seven men. In turn these influenced their wives and children for the Lord, so that families were united in the Christ.

     I know a man who operates a gasoline service station on an excellent corner who became convinced that Jesus had placed him there to witness of his faith, and that selling gasoline was merely a way to pay expenses while he was doing so. He had a very attractive little folder printed with the caption on the front page, "I'd Like To Have You Meet My Best Friend!" On the inside he told the story of how he once drank and lived an immoral life, and of how he sought the help of psychiatry to no avail, and then, when contemplating suicide, he was introduced to Jesus, and how this made the great difference.

     When he fills the tank and the customer signs the credit card slip, the brother says with a kindly tone and a gentle smile, "I do not know how you feel about things like this, but I'd like to have you read this little folder when you find time." Literally scores of people have returned to talk with him about it and his business has grown beyond expectation.

     Then there was the college student who resolved to take Christ's claim upon his life very seriously. He needed a job for the summer in order to secure funds to go to school in the autumn. He prayed very earnestly for God to have his way in the matter and to lead him into a situation where he could testify of his faith. He drove his car to the filling station as soon as he had finished praying, and while the owner was filling the tank with gasoline he said to the brother, "Do you know where I can find a young man who would like to work for me this summer?" Although he could not see how this would

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provide the opportunity he wanted the Christian student decided to accept the job and trust in God.

     He also resolved to take advantage of every opportunity to speak of Jesus and many openings were given. While repairing a tire one day he began talking with the owner and ascertained that he was the Presbyterian clergyman from the largest congregation of that denomination in the area. The preacher invited him to come and address a youth meeting, and as a result of his Biblical knowledge, asked him to speak to his whole congregation one Sunday while the preacher was on vacation. When young people with special problems came to the Presbyterian clergyman they were sent to the young man at the service station, and he taught them the way of truth more perfectly.

     I must not leave this part of my theme without mentioning another brother who owns a filling station and automobile repair business in a community of black residents. He talks to his customers about the Savior at every opportunity and with such effectiveness that he has been invited to speak at their several denominations to huge crowds on special occasions. These men are waging the battle where the action is. Their pulpits are grease racks, gasoline pumps and car fenders. They are being heard because they are fighting on the life front!

     Women from different congregations began to take hot subsistence meals and serve up to fifty or more children each Saturday. The run-down facilities were soon outgrown. A congregation of white saints purchased a condemned building and spent a great deal of money and hundreds of hours of hard labor before it would pass city inspection for use as a teaching facility.

     Meanwhile the white brother married an outstanding girl who was dedicated to the frustrating task of working in the black ghetto, and they were able to expand their efforts. They found it necessary to defend their neighbors from political exploitation by City Hall, and this threw them into definite involvement in opposition to the white structure downtown. They learned from bitter experience the manipulation of depressed and downtrodden humanity by the government hand-out programs.

     They have now won the confidence of the black community and are the elected representatives on self-help projects such as "Operation Bootstrap." They are concerned with one of the most outstanding and rewarding programs in our nation to train men for needed labor, to rebuild the community without direct government aid, and to bring in industry to provide jobs. Through all of this, they have never lost the sight of their chief objective which is to bring a knowledge of the Christ to culturally deprived human beings.

     It has not all been smooth sailing--but incredible as it may seem, the greatest opposition has come from some Churches of Christ. In spite of the fact that the work is under the supervision of the

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bishops of an autonomous congregation, vigilante committees composed of elders from other congregations have felt called upon to investigate it. Some of these have withheld support on the basis of a species of bigotry which seems almost unbelievable even among some of us who used to make a specialty of it. The charge is that some of the workers who volunteered to help are from congregations which use instrumental music.

     Of course the Spirit of God will triumph over this kind of provincial and factional thinking, but one finds himself saddened by the thought that in a world writhing in crisis, where human needs are an engulfing flood, that there are those who would prolong human misery and suffering in the midst of abject squalor while they stand afar off and debate their doctrinal differences. It is apparent that there are two classes which we shall have always--the poor and the Pharisees!

     I salute a group of young Christians in another city which I shall not name who have established a store-front oasis manned by a young brother who became hooked on dope while yet in high school. He was not a believer at the time and was being reared by his mother who had been deserted by the father. The lad drifted from bad to worse. He began by smoking reefers or pot, and soon went on to become an acid-head. He became a police character and spent a good deal of time in the lock-up. Twice he was institutionalized for "the cure" but it did not last. Then one evening someone took him to a crusade conducted by Billy Graham and he felt an uncontrollable desire to surrender his worthless existence unto Christ.

     The counsellor assigned to him was a young man from the Churches of Christ and he met with him every evening for a week, and finally immersed him in the name of the Lord. The two of them decided they would penetrate the gray world of mental fog where frightened men and women fight the "monkey on their backs," and bring a ray of hope to that world of despair. They rented a storefront building and with the help of a group of college young people, scrubbed and cleaned and painted the inside. They furnished it with cast-off furniture, refusing the offer of new equipment as being out of place in such surroundings.

     Now a coffee urn stands always ready for those who drop in. There is good wholesome reading material. There are impromptu prayer sessions which are unstructured except by human need and agony. The members of two congregations help support the work with their money, although some have expressed the hope that not all of those who are reached will start attending with them because it might hurt their influence in their suburban communities to have converted "winos" and former street-walkers among the membership.

     One cannot help but think of the worn-out story of the old colored man who made application to affiliate with a white congregation. The "somewhats" in the group suggested that he not be too hasty in pushing for membership recognition, but rather pray about it for awhile. Three weeks later, when one of them asked him if he had prayed about the matter, he replied that he had, and the Lord had told him not to worry, that He also had been trying for years to get into that congregation and had not been successful either.

     It is not always a ghetto area where such commandos operate. I know of a couple who were so thrilled when the Shepherd found them and rescued them from the pit, that they decided to turn their home into a rescue mission. The very informality of their approach has made possible a tremendous success. They have had boys who were adjudged delinquent paroled to them by the courts and have introduced those who were "turned on" and "tuned out" to Jesus.

     These have brought other young people in dire need. The family room has been turned into a place of open conversation and confession. Each night of the week a prayer session is held and all seek to draw near to God, although the words addressed to the Father may be in the jargon or argot of "junkies" and drifters.

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It is amazing what has happened in the lives of those who feel that they are understood and accepted in spite of bizarre dress and unconventional hair lengths. All of us need to learn that Jesus never got any one out of where he was to love him, but he loved him to get him out of where he was. It makes a difference if our love reaches in to taverns, dives and off-beat places, because light always shines brightest on the darkest nights.

     It is their theory that they should actively seek justice, relieve the oppressed, defend the fatherless and plead the widow's cause. They hold that this cannot be done by men who put their official standing ahead of principle. They are sick of bribery and chicanery. So these young men are studying civics and sociology, and probing into the science of government with a sense of commitment which is seldom seen in our day.

     There will be opposition to their planned invasion of the political field. Some of it will come from the cynical "city hall crowd," and some of it from gang leaders who call the political shots and control the political "big shots." But a good deal of the opposition will proceed from Christians who hold the idea that to mess with politics is to forfeit your character. It is their view that, regardless of motives, one will be contaminated if he takes an active part in the making or enforcement of laws. He should limit his efforts to criticizing officials.

     I do not share this rather morbid view and I cannot help but wish that Christians were in every office in this land. The men of whom I speak, who are majoring in the field of jurisprudence as a high calling, are of high caliber. If they maintain their ideals they can and will make a difference. I know a number of brethren who are serving in the political arena as the elected servants of the people and they feel that they are ministers of God called to perform a great task.

     I do not wish to prolong this article unduly. For example, it would take much time and space to describe the faithful men and women who are teaching the various disciplines on the college and university campus. They are bringing a sense of The Presence into the seething, fermenting academic complex of today. I hold that the field of higher education should belong to Christ and we should bring its very thought processes into subjection to his sovereignty.

     It would please me if we could develop a strategy of penetration by which we could infiltrate and secure the entire domain of education for the advancement of the principles of that righteousness which is found in Him. I am not talking about making it the tool of any party or sect. This would be disastrous. I am simply saying that all education should be slanted toward perfecting the skills and abilities of men according to the ideals exemplified by him. All truth is one truth, whether arrived at by revelation, experimentation or rationalization. No one ever teaches any truth without teaching God's truth! The God of ethics is the God of mathematics. He is also the God of my salvation!

     This is my Father's world, and every good gift comes from him. It must be channeled into his service. Whether one has a talent for teaching psychology, biology, history, science, literature, or home economics, he must realize that in its exercise he is a servant of the Most High. God is concerned with every person on earth "from him that sitteth on the throne to the maidservant behind the mill." There is no area of life that is left untouched by our witness. To go into all the world means much

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more than simply putting a missionary in the capital city of every country. The world is more than a shrinking ball spinning thru space. "All the world" is not simply a geographic expression. The concern of God is not alone with land or cities or oceans, but with human beings and human hearts--the world of reason and will and conscience. The commandos for Christ are the fearless fighters who are even in advance of the well-drawn and recognized front lines of battle.

     They parachute into dark asphalt jungles where the foe lurks in every dark corner of the stinking streets and alleys, they invade the ranks of the sophisticated where the sword strokes are parried with keen scintillating mockery, they drop from sight in the suburban world where sin is refined and distilled into a product of tantalizing aroma appealing to the languid and sensuous culture of our day. But wherever they choose to fight, the commandos never forget their allegiance unto him. One of the best of their number put it thus: "It is our aim, therefore, to please him, whether we are 'at home' or 'away.' For everyone of us will have to stand without pretence before Christ our judge, and we shall be rewarded for what we did when we lived in our bodies, whether it was good or bad. All our persuading of men, then, is with this solemn fear of God in our minds."