Casper Warren has already won for himself a state-wide reputation as a Christian worker. Last year he was asked to speak at a conference of Sunday School superintendents held at Goldsboro.
Only last week he made an address at a conference of Sunday School workers held in Raleigh. His work was so well known that churches in Florida and Texas have sought his services as a Sunday School worker.
Many people in Dunn do not know that the Sunday School of the First Baptist church is considered the best in North Carolina. Under the leadership of Mr. Warrant, it attained the advanced or AA-1 standard. There are only six of these advanced standard schools in the Southern Baptist Convention, and only one other in North Carolina, and that a country school near Shelby, N.C.
Now, he goes to the Seminary at Louisville to become a preacher. In taking his departure he directed the following letter to his church, The first Baptist, here: To live is to choose. It is not a matter of choice whether one shall choose or not. The dawn of every new day brings us to the forks of the road where we must decide the things that go to make up our lives. Those who are contented in their pursuits do not have so much difficulty in making the proper decisions, but those how are not must sooner or later face squarely the cause of their unrest. The causes of such unrest differ with respect to the life of the individual.
My life has been all that any young man could hope for, yet for several years there has been a strange tug at my heart, with an apparent warning that we are out of place when we remain in a profession or position, that fails to call into play, in the highest possible way, the greatest number of our best faculties. In moments of prayer and medication and even amid the crowding cares of life, it has come unbidden and unwelcome to disturb and trouble. I couldn’t understand.
About 12 years ago in the old wooden church that many of you in memory hold so dear, my Sunday School Teacher remarked that he believed God would some day call one of us boys into full time service for Christ. Though only a lad of 12 or 13, an unseen finger seemed to point me ??? (word obscured). I couldn’t understand.
During my high school life, I was convinced that my lot would be found either in the profession of law or the ministry. Why two? Oh, the perplexities this question has caused me to endure. I couldn’t understand.
During the first three years of my college course, it was unusually noticeable that I, a law student should take such an interest in Y.M.C.A. and B.Y.P.U. work. I could not be satisfied to lie around on the Campus when these meetings were the option. I could not understand.
At my post in the army where the atmosphere was nil but religious, where ?? religious service was conducted by a Catholic chaplain, I was instrumental in organizing a Bible Class and procuring the service of a Baptist minister in a nearby town as preacher. A few weeks passed and he was called away. The task fell to me, by request of the boys, many of whom were among the so-called “rough and hard-boiled” class. The activities of our teacher’s church ceased and it was there a few weeks later that I first participated in organizing a B.Y.P.U. which led to the reopening of the church. I don’t know why I chose these things nor why the fellows chose me. I couldn’t understand.
How handicapped I was in my senior year at College to face each day the glaring question, “Shall it be law or the ministry?” Only God will ever know how ?? to see the close of that year. ?? that I could have stopped the whole of time and remained in college forever, was often my thought, but such a thought had no place in the infinite plan. Why should I feel this way? I couldn’t understand.
My highest ambition was to be a good lawyer, but until a few days ago I couldn’t understand why everything seemed to draw me from it, why my very nature seemed to be perverted. So alone with God I’ve settle it all and now I understand and Now I must pass on.
“I hear a voice you cannot hear
Which says I must not stay;
I see a hand you cannot see
Which beckons me away.”
Oh how it hurts to leave you, you who have been so dear and meant so much to me. Yes, “I’d stay in the garden with Him, but He bids me go.” How weak and unworthy I am but His Grace is sufficient. I can’t do much but:
“There’s surely somewhere a lowly place,
In earth’s harvest fields so wide,
Where I may labor thro’ life’s short day
For Jesus, the crucified.”
In view of the above facts I regretfully yet cheerfully tender my resignation as superintendent of our Sunday School, and if in your opinion I am worthy to enter upon further preparation to be your representative for Christ, I shall appreciate your letter of approval to the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, Louisville, Ky.
God bless you every one and may His guiding Spirit overshadow, protect and comfort you and when His will shall have been accomplished, may we meet within the eternal gates to share His Glory forever.
From the front page of The Dunn Dispatch, Sept. 22, 1922
No comments:
Post a Comment