Dr. Ray Dugger

 Dr. Ray Dugger

It was May 5^th, 1972, when I got saved. I became a member of the local Baptist church, a congregation of 40 to 50 people. Those people did not quite know what to do with me, a farm boy brought into a new culture of Christianity. Eventually I was to bond tightly with these people and feel an allegiance to these people that was as strong as a family allegiance.

I had not been in the church long when our Pastor accepted a call to a church down in Fresno, and left us bereft of a leader. The denomination (American Baptist) soon helped, and an interim pastor was on his way, all the way from Sacramento, about 50 miles from us.

I remember the first time our pastor came to us; the church still maintained a tradition in those days. The pastor was the last person to enter the church on Sunday morning, and all the church would stand and turn to view his coming in; we do the same with brides today. To my surprise, no one appeared in the aisle. The organist kept playing and we kept waiting. Finally, to our relief, we could see a small figure ever so slowly coming down the aisle, incrementally shuffling his way to the front of the church.

I watched as he finally reached a seemingly impossible hurdle. There were three steps up to the stage. Could this poor figure possibly make those three steps? The whole church watched with bated breath as he ascended one step at a time. At last he made the pulpit, and gripping the sides of the pulpit seemed to fill him with strength. He looked out over the small congregation and let us know right away that he was sent from God.

“One of your deacons got ahold of me this morning and let me know there were two things that I was to stay away from as a preacher. One was the Holy Spirit and the other was that we were not to talk of Satan.” He paused, and then continued, “We will be speaking on two topics the next months, the Holy Spirit and Satan.”

I was looking all about, trying to figure out who he was talking about, but there was not a clue to be had. For the next forty minutes, he spoke thunderously, the word of God pouring forth from his mouth. His watch, taken off his wrist and laid on the pulpit, ticked to the 12:00 position, and he stopped, with what was to become known as his common comment, “I know you ladies have a roast in the oven to get out, so we will stop there.”

Little did I realize how much this man was going to change my life. Over the next few months I was to learn what one man, wholly given to the word of God could teach me. It was to change this poor farm boy’s view of the Word of God forever.