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A Burden for Souls - Evangelist Rolfe Barnard - brought
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A Biography of Rolfe Barnard
http://www.thebibleistheotherside.org/message13.htm
Compiled from his own personal recollections and taped
sermons, especially "Saved from Infidelity" and "Watching
Men Die," Barnard's Sermon Notes, and from correspondence
with his daughter, Mrs. R. C. Moser, of Clemmons, North
Carolina I well recall when Rolfe Barnard first came to
my hometown, Ashland, Kentucky. It was the spring of
1950. I was a teenage boy and attended, along with my
mother, younger sister and brother, a large Baptist
Church. It was one of the most influential churches in
Eastern Kentucky with a membership of about 1,000. Some
way, I do not recall how, they scheduled Rolfe Barnard to
come and speak. In those days evangelistic services were
conducted annually, sometimes more often. They were known
as "revival meetings." Some of the most prominent
evangelists in America came to our church. Evangelistic
services were extravaganzas: there was almost a "show
biz" atmosphere. They featured fancy musicians, former
boxers, convicts and entertainers as speakers, and all
kinds of gimmicks and goodies for the youth. Aeroplane
rides were offered for those who brought enough people to
church and there were rewards for those who induced
others to walk down the church aisles after the sermons.
It was the big boom and everyone seemed to enjoy it.
I do not recall there being much permanent good effect of
these "revivals." After all the excitement died down,
people usually went about their sinful ways of living as
before.Like all the guest-evangelists who came, the
picture of Barnard was placed on posters and nailed all
over town. Beneath his picture was an interesting slogan.
It said, "The evangelist who is different." Exactly what
was different about him the posters did not say. The man
looked to be in his late forties. The only thing
noticeably different about his appearance was that he
came across as somewhat sombre there was a slighly
menacing look on his face. Normally, evangelists had
broad smiles and shining faces advertising the jolly good
fellows they were. After a few sermons in the church,
folk knew just how different Rolfe Barnard was from the
evangelists who had visited the church before. There was
none of the flashy demeanor, but a grave and dignified
bearing like one who had been sent on a mission. One soon
got the impression that he was not there to whip up
religious excitement, but to deliver a message from God.
The message was as startling as it was different. It
centered around the character of God, a God about whom
most had never heard before. The deity most were
acquainted with was a nice sort of fellow who did his
best to save people, but was often frustrated in the
attempt. Many times I have heard preachers say, "God has
done all He can for you, now it is up to you." I used to
listen with astonishment to this statement, for I
wondered why I should seek help from a being who could
not help me. Barnard, on the other hand, preached a God
Who was sovereign and omnipotent, One Who dispensed His
mercy according to His own discretion. He preached that
sinners were not to come to God with the idea of helping
Him out of His dilemma, but they were to come as guilty
sinners, suing for mercy. He exalted the holiness of God
and the strictness of His Law. This, you can be sure, was
different. Rumors began to spread all over town that a
Calvinist had come to Ashland. Some reacted with
amazement, some with confusion, others with down-right
anger. But a small group rejoiced and said, "We have been
wanting to hear this for years." My father, who believed
in the doctrines of grace, started attending the services
and announced to all of us that there was one at the
church preaching the theology in which he believed.
The pastor, after much heart-searching and Bible study,
came to believe in the doctrines of grace as a result of
this meeting, and invited Barnard back in the summer of
1951 to hold a tent meeting in a large park downtown. In
the intervening months a division developed over the so-
called "five points" of Calvinism with the majority
becoming more hostile. The pastor was a very talented and
gracious man with a winsome personality, and he tried to
woo as many as possible to the "new" view, but most
stiffened and gave him trouble. The church had a very
active youth group, including a choir. I was a member of
this choir and also sang in a quartet with others about
my age. I had been baptized at the age of 12, but was
utterly without any vital relationship with God in my
life. There was in fact a terrible, aching void in my
heart which I could not understand. Still, I did not even
want to consider that I was not a Christian. The two-week
meeting in the park was a memorable event. The crowds
were fairly large, considering the type of preaching
which was sounding out. Barnard boldly preached the
Gospel as he understood it, often denouncing the
superficiality of modern religion. We were all fascinated
with his style, though he seemed awfully stern and rough.
Plain truths of the Word of God were set forth, even the
harshest, in their naked reality. One of his favorite
texts was "God will have mercy upon whom He will have
mercy," Romans 9:15.
Shortly after the meetings started, there began to be a
breaking up. Many, mostly adults, began to go forward
after the messages and state publicly that they were lost
and wanted prayer. These, and others who sat trembling in
the audience, were under "conviction of sin." The amazing
thing is that most of them were church members. I
remember one night the piano stopped playing during the
invitation and the pianist went to the front seat and sat
down sobbing. We all knew she meant that she wanted to be
saved. Prominent church leaders such as deacons, Sunday
School teachers, and youth workers began to acknowledge
that they had been false professors or deceived about
their state before God. Our male quartet was singing each
night under the big tent, and as it turned out later, not
one of us was converted at that time. One night Don, one
of the members of the quartet, went to the front where
the pastor and evangelist were standing and asked for
prayer. It was announced that he was lost and needed
Christ.
It was at this point that I became involved in the
picture. God was about to set me straight.
At that time I had the notion that anyone who had any
religious feelings such as "seeking after God" was a true
Christian. I misunderstood the text in Romans which says
that there is none that seeketh after God (Romans 3:11).
At any rate, it rankled me somewhat that my friend had
been disturbed by the evangelist. At this very time my
own soul was torn asunder because I had no real assurance
of salvation, but I had a reputation of being a young
theologian who believed in Calvinistic doctrine. I
thought this would be a good time for me to show my skill
in counselling and to help my friend who was in trouble.I
went to the front of the tent where Barnard and the
pastor were talking to Don. Butting in like the immature,
upstart youth I was, I said to him, "Don, you do not need
to worry. You are seeking God. The lost man does not seek
God. Therefore you have the life of God in you, you are
saved," or words to that effect. Never, till the day I
die, will I forget what Rolfe Barnard said to me. Looking
straight at me with his piercing eyes, he said, "Young
man, a believer is not seeking Christ, he has found
Christ!"
Ten pointed arrows piercing my body, or a jolt of
electricity would not have shaken me more than those
words. Barnard had not only corrected a false notion
which would have led Don astray, but also he put his
finger on a raw nerve in my own life. With this
statement, through the work of the Holy Spirit in my
heart, he stripped aside the shroud of pseudo-religion in
which I had been hiding, and left me standing exposed to
my true condition. I did not know Christ! I was angry. As
my parents drove home, I said little, but within I was
seething as I resisted the prickings of the Holy Spirit
on my conscience. Was this abrasive preacher right? Was
it true that seeking is not enough, one must actually
find Christ? If so, I knew I was lost, a fact I did not
want to face. That night, I told my mother that I wanted
her to pray for me, because I thought I might not be
saved. I expected her to have some words of comfort, for
after all I was a good boy, supposedly, one of the model
young men in the church. She had no soothing balm for me,
but only said, "Son, I'll pray for you."
What went on in the next 24 hours would take many pages
to tell, but briefly I will say that I spent the most
miserable night of my life that night wrestling with the
condition of my soul. The next morning, somewhat humbled,
I told the pastor and the evangelist (there were morning
services) that I was lost. I recall well the pastor's
words. He said, "John, this is not surprising, since most
of our best young people are coming to realize that they
have never had a real experience of grace." There were no
words of counsel given me except these, "God saves
sinners." This is all that was said to me about how to
get relief. This seemed like a brush-off, but I went
away. Before the day was over, God used the words of the
song, "Jesus Paid It All," to bring peace to my heart.
Through this song, Christ and His substitutionary work
came before my mind. The Holy Spirit seemed to be telling
me that it was for me that Jesus had died, and that all
my sins were put away forever. That night I joyfully
confessed Christ to the crowd and later was baptized,
along with twenty or so others who were converted in the
tent meeting.
I have given this firsthand account of Barnard's ministry
in one city because it illustrates in a capsule way the
leading elements of his evangelistic preaching. What
happened in the church in Ashland is a sample of what
occurred in dozens of places throughout America and parts
of Canada. While different churches and communities
responded differently to Barnard's preaching, there were
many instances, in the 1950's and 1960's, especially
where churches were claimed for truth, and many sinners
were converted.
Rolfe Pickens Barnard was born on August 4, 1904, to
James and Julia Barnard in Gunterville, Alabama. He often
stated that his father and mother gave him to God to be a
preacher while he was still in his mother's womb. He grew
up in a Godly home and was taken to a Southern Baptist
Church and Sunday School during his youth. Like so many
children, he made a decision to be baptized and join the
church when very young, but without being truly
converted. When he was eleven years old, a missionary
visited the church in the little town where he lived and
asked all who were willing to go to come forward. Soon
Rolfe was walking down the aisle and made this
commitment. He seemed to sense from that time that God's
will for him was the Christian ministry.
In a remarkable sermon entitled "Saved From Infidelity,"
Barnard explains how he struggled with the seemingly
inevitable course to which he was destined: preaching the
Gospel. He was evidently a precocious youth for he
entered Hardin Simmons University in Abilene, Texas, at
the age of 15, to study for a legal career. While in
college, he sought peace with God for his troubled
conscience, but whenever he thought of God he thought of
preaching, and this he had rejected. He was willing to do
anything but that. He evaded the issue by long hours of
weeping and praying. He "rededicated himself to God," in
fact, he did "everything he knew to do." But the storm
within continued to rage. Rolfe was in a terrible
agitated state. Then his rebellion reached a point where
he said, "God, keep Your hand off me!" His heart
hardened, and he turned to infidelity. This, as he said,
gave him an "alibi" or "hiding place," and enabled him to
sleep. His determination to avoid the ministry led him to
abandon the evangelical faith (outwardly, at least). He
became an outspoken infidel on the college campus, and
his bold disposition and intellectual acumen made him a
natural leader of the unbelievers. An infidel club was
organized and he was its president. Rolfe Barnard had
declared all-out war on God!
On Friday nights, 300 young rebels gathered to poke fun
at the Bible, and dare God to do anything about it.
Leading them in their blasphemy was a tall, angular youth
who had been dedicated to God as a minister from his
mother's womb. When this young man was leading the
skeptics he was haughty and presumptuous, but at night,
when alone, the God of his parents loomed large before
him, and the gathering clouds of His wrath frightened
him. Remarkably, he would curse God during the day and
pray to Him at night. These are his own words, "I say to
you, and this is the truth, before I could sleep at night
I'd get down on my knees and say to God, 'If You'll not
kill me tonight, I'll surrender to you tomorrow.' " Rolfe
Barnard became, literally, one of the most miserable men
walking the face of the earth. He was a hard and bitter
young man, determined never to serve God or even darken
the doors of God's House.
On graduating from law school, he was offered a junior
partnership in an outstanding Texas law firm, but instead
he decided to move to the Panhandle area of Texas to
teach in a school. He did not explain this move. In
Texas, at that time, one had to be a church member in
order to teach in a school, so he joined the church the
first Sunday after moving to town. Although he was now a
church member, he never attended. In fact, he remained a
confirmed infidel. "For years," he said, "I blasphemed
everything high and low, but they kept me on the church
roll." When he moved from one place to another, he moved
his letter of membership, but never participated in
church activities. Then a remarkable thing happened. A
church elected him to teach a men's class, shortly after
he had joined, and he felt that to keep his reputation he
should accept. The incredible situation existed of Rolfe
Barnard moving into a new community and being elected to
teach a men's Bible class while he was shaking his very
fist in the face of God. This type of situation is
perhaps more common than one might suspect, especially in
some parts of America where membership in a church is
essential to social status, and in some cases one's
occupation depends upon it. As a Bible teacher, Barnard
was a big success. The people were impressed with his
knowledge of the Bible and ability to communicate. After
he became an evangelist, he described himself during
those days as a "hypocrite" and "devil."
Then the event occurred which forced Barnard's hand, as
it were, in the great issue between him and God: whether
he would surrender to preach. The pastor of the church
resigned, and Sunday after Sunday the people simply went
home. Given the battle in his heart he had been fighting
for so many years, this created a dilemma in Barnard's
mind too great for him to bear. One Sunday he went home
to his boarding-house, entered the bathroom and locked
the door. There, as he later said, "The battle was fought
out." God won. Rolfe Barnard got up off his knees and
went directly across town to the home of the Sunday
School superintendent who was asleep in a rocking chair
waiting for dinner. The young Sunday School teacher
walked over to the Superintendent and woke him. "Brother
Mills," he said, "I've come to tell you, the Lord has
saved me and I want to preach next Sunday." I will let
Barnard relate the conversation between him and the
layman in his own words.
"The Superintendent said, 'Well, it's about time.' He
sure let me down. I had wanted him to say, 'Oh, isn't
that wonderful!' Instead he said, 'Well, it's about
time.' I said, 'What do you mean?' He said, 'Things have
been going on. A couple of letters came to Panhandle,
Texas, post office. One of them was addressed to the
Superintendent of the Sunday School of the First Baptist
Church. The other was addressed to the Pastor didn't know
any names. They were identical letters. Some old white-
haired woman from Abilene, Texas, said, 'My boy's coming
to your town to teach school. He's called to be a
preacher. He's not even saved. He's in an awful mess.'
She said, 'If you could find it in your heart, build a
fire under him. Don't let him have a moment's peace.' And
he (the Superintendent) said, 'Boy, we've been doing it.
We knew you weren't saved, but we elected you to teach a
men's Bible class. We've been meeting once a week and
asking, 'Lord, make the fire a little hotter.' We've been
waiting.' " The letter had come, of course, from Rolfe's
mother. The method the Texas Baptists used to build a
fire under Rolfe Barnard was a strange one, and one we
could easily criticize, but God moved in a mysterious way
and overruled the mistake of His people in calling out
His chosen servant and sending him on his way. It was
while he was still a school teacher that Barnard moved to
Borger, Texas, to do evangelistic work. Borger was one of
those boom Texas oil towns. Oil was discovered one day on
a man's ranch, and within six months, tens of thousands
of people had flooded into the community and built a
town. As in the famous gold rush of the 1850's, people
came there from everywhere to get rich quick. Various
types of businesses sprang up, but there was not one
church in town. Saloons, gambling halls and houses of ill-
fame flourished. Public women swarmed on the main street
which was two-and-a-half miles long. According to
Barnard, uninterested men had to walk at arm's length
from the buildings in order to avoid being grabbed.
The Baptist Association in that part of the country
bought an empty lot and commissioned Barnard to start a
church on it. He did not have a cent, so he went up and
down the streets collecting money to build a church
structure. A Baptist deacon rebuked him for this method,
stating that he was soliciting the devil's money. Barnard
answered, "Satan doesn't own anything. All is the
Lord's." One of the businesses he intended to solicit was
the one operated by A. P. Borger who "owned the town."
When he got there he found several deputy sheriffs
waiting for him, along with a photographer from the local
newspaper. The sheriffs were "dressed in ten-gallon hats
and wearing two handguns." He was informed that no money
would be collected at that business until they had been
given a sample of his preaching. Barnard immediately
stepped upon a large beer keg and delivered a message on
"death." The essence of this message was that those
present were going to die physically, and if they
remained outside Christ, their souls would die eternally.
The photographer took Barnard's picture while he was
preaching. The next day the Texas newspapers showed the
young minister standing on the keg preaching to this
unusual audience.
Death was an appropriate subject, for death was all
around him.
A lethal gas from the oil wells destroyed the lungs of
many who worked them. In a short time scores succumbed to
"gas consumption" for which there was then no cure. In a
gripping message entitled, "Watching Men Die," Barnard
states that he preached at as many as seven funerals in
one day. The bodies of the dead were usually taken back
to their own hometowns for burial. He also tells about
several frightful death-bed scenes of people who listened
to him preach but rejected Christ. Such were some of the
circumstances of Barnard's ministry in Borger, Texas. It
was a frontier situation in every sense of the word. He
preached to rough, tough, hardened sinners. His converts
consisted of drunkards, gamblers, prostitutes, and money
sharks, as well as ordinary people. I believe that one
can understand better Barnard's "shoot from the hip"
style from the pulpit if the way he began his ministry is
taken into consideration. He made a good evangelist to
rebels for he himself had been a rebel before his
conversion. On October 25, 1927, Barnad married Hazel
Hayes Hilliard at Amarillo, Texas. In January of the next
year he enrolled in the Southwestern Baptist Seminary at
Fort Worth, Texas. This school was founded in 1905 by
B.H. Carroll, who, like Barnard, was a hardened infidel
before his conversion. Dr. Carroll, though he never
attended Seminary himself, was a giant in every respect.
He was thoroughly orthodox, a brilliant scholar, and a
commanding preacher.
When Barnard went to Southwestern, it was the period of
the beginnings of the erosion of traditional Southern
Baptist theology. The emphasis, so conspicuous since, on
programs and fund-raising, and the downgrading of
theology was showing itself. On the faculty at the time
was W.T. Conners, whom Barnard often quoted with great
respect and appreciation. Conners was a mild Calvinist,
and wrote several books on doctrine. Barnard also studied
under the famous Southern Baptist Evangelist, L.R.
Scarborough, a very influential figure. Unquestionably,
Barnard's ministry was molded by his instruction at
Southwestern. But this does not account for the direction
his preaching took, especially in the 1950's and 1960's.
Upon graduating from Seminary, Barnard pastored churches
in Portales, New Mexico; Denton, Texas, and Wetumka in
Oklahoma. When the Second World War broke out, he bacame
a chaplain and served in this capacity for two years. I
do not believe that Barnard was a Calvinist during the
first years of his pastoral work and evangelistic
ministry. Judging from his sermon notes, however, he was
always thoroughly evangelical and Biblical in his
preaching. As far as his style is concerned, I think
anyone who heard him and knows about the personality and
ministry of C.G. Finney, an American evangelist of
another day, could not but see a considerable
resemblance. He often quoted Finney, and there are
statements in his older sermon notes which indicate that
he held, at one time, to Finney's view on man's will. But
even so, Barnard, so far as I can tell, never
countenanced the "easy believe" type of evangelism which
has predominated in America in this century.
Some of the so-called "new methods" of Finney he employed
in his revival preaching. He usually gave a public
invitation after his sermons, though I'm not sure that
this always pertained. He did this, however, not as a
means of salvation but as an opportunity for the
converted to openly profess faith in Christ. He was known
at times to single out specific individuals for notice
from the pulpit, particularly if they were opposing him.
This was a well-known tactic of Finney. One is reminded
that, in every age when God is bringing about a
reformation of some kind, he uses all types of
individuals, including those who seem, to some, tactless
and blunt. When the tide of error and compromise is
flowing all one way, very outspoken and forceful
personalities arise to stand against the current. Such
was Savonarola, Martin Luther, and Spurgeon. Barnard was
in this tradition.
Like many before him, such as Asahel Nettleton and A.W.
Pink, Barnard believed that submission to Christ was an
essential element of conversion. There were no words too
scornful for him to use in denouncing the view that one
can become a Christian by accepting the finished work of
Christ while living in rebellion against Him. Throughout
his ministry he was one of the few American evangelists
who taught that sanctification is an essential part of
being a believer. The "Carnal Christian" theory has
prevailed to a tremendous extent in the U.S.A. in this
century. This has led to some professing believers living
lives in open sin and disobedience. That error was
anathema to Rolfe Barnard. In this sense, he always
belonged to the Puritan school on conversion.
In 1946, he moved to Winston-Salem, North Carolina, to
teach at Piedmont Bible College. Although he was then,
and always remained, a Southern Baptist, his tenure at
this school brought him into close fellowship and
association with some of the leaders of the independent,
fundamentalist movement in America, such as Dr. John R.
Rice. Dr. Rice wields immense influence among
fundamentalists in America, and is an outspoken opponent
of modernism and liberalism. During the late forties,
Barnard combined evangelistic meetings, such as city-wide
crusades, with Bible conferences. At one of these
conferences at Greenville, Mississippi, he preached from
the sixth chapter of John and in his message he revealed
that he had come to a Calvinist view on election. Present
at the conference were Dr. Rice and other personalities
in the fundamentalist camp.
There were some in the audience who were, or came to be,
sympathetic with his exposition, but most were vehemently
opposed to it. This conference became a sort of pivotal
point in his life, because his preaching of the doctrine
of special grace produced a "parting of the way." From
then on, Rolfe Barnard was censored in the wide
fundamentalist circles in which he had been moving.
"Hyper-Calvinism" was the label then fixed upon him, and
upon those who believe that election is gratuitous and
not a reward for foreseen faith. In vain have many
explained to fundamentalist leaders that there is a
difference between Calvinism and hyper-Calvinism. This
unfair charge has become simply another part of the
reproach of Christ for believers in sovereign grace.
Following the Greenville conference, word went out in
fundamentalist circles that Rolfe Barnard had departed
from the faith. He was ostracized, like the untouchables
of India, by his former friends. Invitations for city-
wide crusades stopped. His ministry continued, but mainly
in small churches. He became a controversial figure. But
he was endowed with a valuable quality which kept him on
his course: complete lack of the fear of man. He was one
of those rare souls who was willing to stand for the
truth, even if alone. God crowned his labors with revival
blessings in many places in the fifties and sixties, the
meetings in Ashland being one example. He preached all
over the South, Mid-west, and Canada, and there are
thousands today who can testify that God used him in
bringing them to salvation. Quite a number of preachers
were converted to a belief in the sovereignty of God.
Many unusual things happened during his evangelistic
meetings and anecdotes could easily fill a volume.
Barnard was endowed with a powerful set of lungs and a
good voice of medium range. He was an excellent singer,
and often sang special songs in his evangelistic
meetings, accompanied by his wife, Hazel. Occasionally,
he violated all rules of elocution by shrieking at the
top of his voice during a sentence. He did this not by an
interjection of some kind but during a sentence. For
example, he might say, "The purpose of the cross is the
glory of God." On "glory" he might say "glooooo" at the
top of his vocal capacity. He did this when his emotions
reached a high pitch and he felt very, very strongly
about something. Needless to say, such outbursts were
earsplitting, and did devastating things to gauges on
electronic recording equipment. No one, I suppose, could
possibly recommend this as a method, generally speaking,
but I can say that this peculiar individualistic trait
did have a startling and awakening effect upon an
audience. As a rule, it was very difficult for people to
sleep when Barnard was preaching!
I heard Barnard preach many times. There were occasions
when his sermons were ordinary and unimpressive. But in
the right context, he was one of the most powerful
preachers I have ever heard. In the midst of an
awakening, when the powers of heaven and hell were
visibly in conflict, he had a peculiar unction that
cannot possibly be described. Like Finney, whose style he
followed, and Nettleton whose theology he accepted, he
could hold an audience spellbound at such times. Rolfe
Barnard's gifts were not primarily pastoral. He seemed
ill-fitted for a settled type of ministry. He once said,
"Some like to live within the sound of a chapel or church
bell. I want to run a rescue station within a yard of
Hell." He was not a builder; he was a trailblazer. He was
not a Timothy, charged to take care of the house of God
he was a John the Baptist crying in the wilderness. He
emphasized greatly the Lordship of Christ and repentance.
One of his few printed messages was entitled, "John the
Baptist Comes to Town." It is a characteristic sermon,
and I count it one of my personal treasures. Although
Barnard was often misunderstood, and disliked by many, he
was a man, I believe, who had an uncommon love for the
souls of men, especially sinners. His messages, many of
which are available on tape, demonstrate plainly that he
had a fervent desire that lost people submit to the
claims of Christ. In some of them, Calvinist though he
was, he literally begs them to lay down their arms of
rebellion, "stack arms" he would sometimes say, and
receive God's forgiveness through repentance! Out of the
pulpit Barnard was, as a rule, withdrawing yet friendly.
In relaxed, social circles, he had a way of badgering his
friends, but in a way that was always taken good-
naturedly. I recall one occasion when I became the object
of his teasing. In 1963, I, along with several other
people, was visiting his home in North Carolina. I had
just married, and was making plans to go to the
Philippine Islands as a missionary. While at his house I
wrote a letter to my new bride. When Barnard discovered
it, he said, "John, I understand you want to be a
missionary. Before you leave my house I feel I ought to
do something to help you. I want to pay for your letter
to your wife." With this remark, he handed me a postage
stamp! Thus did Barnard support my missionary deputation!
This, of course, brought a round of hearty laughter.
While preaching in Prairieville, Louisiana, he had a
heart attack, and died on January 21, 1969. His funeral
was conducted by Pastor Henry Mahan in a funeral home in
Winston-Salem. I can think of no more fitting climax to
this article than the words of Pastor Mahan:
His message of sovereign mercy was an awakening message.
It was impossible to remain neutral when Barnard
preached. Like the Apostle Paul, when Barnard preached,
there was either a riot or a revival. As he said so many
times, "When the true Gospel of Grace is preached, the
believers will be glad, the rebels will get mad, and the
pharisees will be confused."
His message was truly the Gospel of God's glory. He
clearly defined the "good news" as a work God does for
the sinner, not something the sinner does for God. He
declared how God can be just and justify the ungodly
through the righteousness of Christ Jesus, our Lord.
Date Published: 2009-05-13 10:47:40
Identifier: ABurdenForSouls-EvangelistRolfeBarnard-BroughtByTheSchoolOf
Item Size: 39368645
Media Type: audio
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