There were two reasons I chose to attend the Pentecostal church. First, my grandfather was a Pentecostal pastor. Second, it was my mother's preference. I can remember as a young boy getting up on Sunday morning, eating breakfast, and walking to church. Even when my mother was unable to go, I would be there.
June was typically revival month back in those days. In June of 1944 our evangelist for the week was a Mrs. Wilson. Women evangelists were not uncommon in the Pentecostal church. As was my habit, I was there Sunday morning, front and center, with every intention of attending each night that week. After the choir finished their song, Mrs. Wilson walked to the pulpit and preached a stirring salvation message. I don't remember anything in particular that she said; I just remember feeling a strong desire to respond. When the invitation began, I rose from my seat and went foward. Before I reached the altar, I began weeping. I knelt down and started asking Jesus to save me. Several members of my Sunday School class gathered around and began praying for me as well.
When the altar call ended, the pastor of the church asked me to step up to the pulpit and share with the congregation what Christ had done for me. Still crying, I stood behind the pulpit and said, "I don't know all that Jesus has done for me but I know He saved me."
The pastor put his hand on my shoulder, looked at me square in the eye, and said, "Charles, grow up and be a good boy. And when you die, you will go to heaven." [This pastor was telling Charles that his salvation must be maintained by being a good boy. The implication is that if you are not good you can lose your salvation which is what the Pentecostal church teaches and believes.]
Easier Said than Done
It didn't take me long to realize that being good wasn't easy. To compound the problem, just about everything a twelve-year-old boy considered fun was a sin according to the Pentecostal church. I was continually confessing my sins, begging for forgiveness, and hoping I wouldn't die before I had time to repent!
During that time I began sensing God's call in my life. That meant one of two things in those days, becoming a preacher or a missionary. The awareness of God's call in my life only darkened the cloud of guilt under which I lived. How could I ever help anybody else when I am constantly waivering? I would wonder. What if I stood to preach and wasn't even saved?
[Pentecostals never know at any given time if they are really saved because they believe they can lose their salvation at a moment's notice. This teaching does not give their adherents any peace of mind about their salvation or their eternal destiny. What is the point of salvation if it can be so easily lost?]
At age fourteen I joined the Baptist church. My decision was purely a social one. The Baptist church had a larger youth group than the Pentecostal church, and that meant more girls! That was when I discovered not everbody believed as I did. I first heard the phrase "eternal security" in that little Baptist church. Even as a teenager I was a diligent student of God's word. Armed with my list of verses, I was prepared and even eager to present my side of the issue. No one made a dent in my theology. And I never expected anyone to, because I knew the Scripture was clearly on my side.
When I left home for college, I was a staunch believer in the doctrine that one could lose his salvation. Often in our dorm the conversation would turn to religion. Over and over I would pull out my arsenal of verses and present my case. Frequently, I found myself standing alone. But my view was strengthened by the carnal lifestyles of many with whom I debated. Men who claimed to be saved and yet whose actions gave no indication of their having a relationship with Christ. Intellectually, I was more persuaded than ever. But deep inside a battle was raging.
Despite my strong defense and quiver of verses, I couldn't make it all fit. The events of that Sunday morning in 1944 were fixed in my memory. I remember for the first time feeling that I was at peace with God. I knew I had been born again. The possibility that I could lose all I had gained that Sunday morning seemed a little farfetched. And the idea that I could lose it and regain it repeatedly was difficult to comprehend.
Although I was troubled by my internal struggles, I never felt alienated from God. I had an inner peace even at my lowest times. Somehow I knew He still loved me and accepted me. My repeated requests for salvation were more a ritual than an heartfelt sense of need. I never felt lost. Yet the Scripture seemed to be so clear on that point. Consequently, I remained resolute in my defense.
Seminary Days
In the fall of 1954 I entered Southwestern Theological Seminary. Once again I found myself in heated discussions concerning the issue of eternal security. I continued my study of what I considered the pertinent passages of Scripture. For a long time I did not understand how anybody could think the Bible taught that the believer was eternally secure. But slowly that began to change.
Strangely enough, it was my intense study of the Scriptures that caused me to begin doubting my position. This was not a sudden change. It took time. Nobody convinced me. On the contrary, after a while, nobody even wanted to talk to me about it; I had pretty much run the issue into the ground by that point. But as convincing as I was, I had no peace about the subject. So I continued to study.
Verse by verse I picked my way through the passages used to support each view. Through this process two things became apparent. First, I was guilty of ignoring the context of many verses I quoted to defend my view. As I began digging deeper into the events and discussions surrounding these passages, they took on a different meaning. Second, I discovered through my study that the concept of salvation through faith alone cannot be reconciled with the belief that one can forfeit his or her salvation. If I must do or not do something to keep from losing my salvation, salvation would be by faith and works I specifically remember the day this particular truth dawned on me. I found myself at a theological fork in the road. To maintain my position, I realized I would have to abandon my belief in salvation by faith alone.
It was as if a light came on. Suddenly I saw it. I wanted to shout. I felt like a man just released from prison. I began to thank God that I had been wrong all those years. I thanked Him for the relentlessness that had kept me searching and praying. Then I was struck with the most awesome thought of all. I had been eternally secure since that day as a twelve-year-old when I prayed, asking Jesus to save me.
That morning was a turning point in my life. It was far more than a shift in my theology. It introduced me to the true meaning of unconditional love. It was the beginning of my lifelong journey into the mystery of God's amazing grace. Terms such as peace and joy took on a whole new meaning. They became part of my experience not just my vocabulary.
I realized how little I had really trusted God. You see, it is difficult to trust someone when you are never really sure where you stand with that person. Security came to mean a great deal more that a guarantee of where I would spend eternity. It was the perfect word to describe the sense of intimacy I felt with Christ. I was secure. Secure in His love and acceptance of me. Secure in His daily will for my life. Secure in every promise He had made. And of course, secure in where I would spend eternity.
I'm Not Alone
I continually meet people who believe as I once believed. If it were simply a theological difference I would be content to agree to disagree. It is far more than that. I know the bondage to which that kind of thinking leads. I have lived with the guilt and the fear fostered by that view. Jesus said, "And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free" (John 8:32). Freedom comes from knowing the truth. Bondage results from missing it.
. . . Hopefully you will be set free to enjoy the relationship God has paid so dearly to provide. It is a relationship from which fear and worry are absent. I know from experience that until you settle once and for all the question of whether or not you are eternally secure, this quality of joy will elude you. . . hopefully you will be able to face life with the confidence that comes through knowing you are eternally secure.
[If you are currently attending a Pentecostal/charismatic/Faith Movement/Victory Churches, and this subject has not come up recently, you need to ask them if you only need to be saved once or whether they believe you can lose your salvation. If they believe and teach that you can lose your salvation you need to get to a Baptist church or one that believes in eternal security. If you don't you will never have the peace of mind that salvation was intended to give you.]
By Dr. Charles Stanley
