Acts of the Green Apples

"One of the most interesting movements in Christianity today is the so-called 'charismatic renewal' in the historic churches -- the manifestations of the gifts of the Spirit" (Church Times, London, England).

London welcomed me with wet streets but a cessation of rain, thereby destroying my illusion forever. Michael and Jeanne Harper failed to recognize me at the airport because I had gaily worn my blonde wig on the plane. They finally identified me by a process of deduction and with typical British tact welcomed me as though they had not been in doubt for a moment.

The Savoy was one of the few places that lived up to its advance billing. The sheets were linen, the china was Wedgewood and there were hot and cold running maids. The first evening provided supper in the dining room, where I peered through the gloom at the menu. The waiter smoothly suggested that because of the vision problem we merely request what we wished. I didn't tell him the real problem. The menu was in French and the Lord didn't furnish interpretation.

I wasn't really able to see London because I was always going somewhere or coming from somewhere -- sometimes with a plump little grey-haired missionary running interference. I traveled by train, taxi, and Volkswagen -- and even by air to Scotland. My speaking engagements were with Anglicans in either vicarages or churches, with the exception of two meetings at Caxton Hall, a press conference at the Savoy, and a ministerial meeting in Scotland. My memory of it all is hazy, as it seemed one long succession of hurrying somewhere in order to get back early to go somewhere else. The people were friendly, the vicarages chilly, and the response excellent. One of the high points was arriving in one town and being met by the vicar in a black limousine. I tactlessly commented that the automobile resembed a hearse. He happily replied, "Oh, it is. I was the best car in town, so we borrowed it to meet you!"

The press conference was interesting as two of the reporters stayed after to ask more questions. One wished to receive the baptism in the Spirit and asked how. I told him, and he left hastily to "go home and pray." The other received the gift right there. It was a nice ending for a press conference.

Through all this mad activity a Pentecostal student telephoned and requested an appointment. I don't remember, but I think I talked to him over tea. In fact, I don't even remember exactly what he wanted -- perhaps just to talk to someone. However, the grapevine carried the news of the meeting to the other major Pentecostal denomination in England, and an Anglican minister relayed the fact that the other denomination was "put out" and felt they had been neglected. I asked how this could be rectified, and it was decided that we would invite a representative of the other denomination to tea. This was vetoed as the first denomination then felt they had not been officially represented by the student. So both denominations were invited to send a representative. This caused more of a problem as the denominations could not decide just what level of representation they should send! Eventually it was squared away and the Assemblies of God sent Donald Gee and Elim Church sent their leader. We had a pleasant tea, but the gentleman from Elim was troubled. He telephoned me later to explain how upset he was. He said he had been to one of the Caxton Hall meetings and had seen me pray for a number of people for the gift of the Spirit and had heard practically all of them speak in tongues. His problem was that he had been raised to consider the gift of the Spirit difficult to acquire, and was having trouble accepting the fact that the people had received so easily.

At the Caxton Hall meeting I had talked on the movement of the Spirit in the Church and my personal experience with Him. Around fifty people stayed to receive the gift. I explained the Scriptures and that the experience came through faith in Christ. I then laid my hands upon their heads and asked God to fill them with the Holy Spirit. I bent my head to listen and be certain that the person was praying in tongues and then passed on to the next. When I came to one woman whom I had never seen before, I found myself saying, "It's easier to say, 'God, I'll give you my life, go to Africa and be a missionary,' than it is to turn over your tongue to the Holy Spirit and allow Him to put His words on it. Do you think you can do it?" She said, "I'll try." We prayed and she spoke in tongues. Later she came to me and said, "You know, I am a missionary to Africa!" But, of course, I hadn't known --

Another event that occurred at the first Caxton Hall meeting has remained in my mind. I was the primary speaker, but before I was introduced a number of ministers spoke at some length. As I sat waiting I knew God wanted me to speak in tongues, and I didn't like the idea at all. Mentally I pointed out to Him that I was a woman, which made things difficult enough, an American to further complicate everything, and the living end would be for me to get up and speak in tongues. It was almost as though God said, "You're going to." I further explained that if I did they wouldn't understand what it was all about. The answer appeared to be that I would explain it for them. I didn't like the way this whole internal conversation was going. I told Him I couldn't possibly interrupt the speaker, and just then the speaker said, "I present to you -- Jean Stone." And there I was.

By this time I was warm all over and sort of shaky and not at all pleased about what was before me. After a few introductory remarks (while the language from God was almost bubbling inside me) I explained the difference between praying in tongues and speaking in tongues publicly. THen, feeling like a complete idiot, I said something to the effect that I was experiencing an "urging" from the Holy Spirit to speak publicly and we would wait for the interpretation. No sooner were the words in tongues out of mouth than God sent the interpretation: clear, concise, marvelous and right to the point. It was one of the most lucid and wonderful interpretations I had ever heard. Imagine my feelings, on being introduced to the "interpreter," to discover he stuttered so badly he had difficulty saying hello. I frequently find God astonishing.

An afterlight on this talk was that it was taped and later played at All Souls' Church in London. I was told that a married couple received the Holy Spirit while listening to it, and that the husband later became an Anglican minister -- due, he claims, to receiving the Spirit.

Around two hundred people received the power of God while I was in England and Scotland, and I remember the high church and the low church Anglicans' claiming the Holy Spirit even made them love each other! I recall the fantastic high teas in Scotland and the Scots' telling me that this was wonderful for me but that they were too reserved -- they could understand their English cousins' receiving such an experience and were happy for them, but they said they were just too Scottish. That night in a Church of Scotland close to fifty "reserved" Scots received the gift of the Spirit, and they were much more demonstrative about it than the English had been.

From there I went to France, where a customs official screamed at me vociferously in French and made me cry. From then on I was wary of all Frenchman until Hong Kong, where I met a group of French nuns and a French priest who found a place in my heart forever. But that comes later.

I did find one poster in France worth the trip. In the American drugstore in Paris is a large sign reading, We Have Genuine Imported California Champagne. Try and top that one.

Previous to all this had been the trip to Alaska to speak in the Episcopal Church in Fairbanks. The Alaskans were as friendly as the Scots and it was fun. Moose meat was not only worth tasting -- I was so taken with it that they sent some home with me, along with many other gifts. Alaskans must be the most generous people anywhere. I loved them all. We didn't understand each other too well, as I was bundled in fur to accommodate the ten-degree-below-zero weather, and they were all in sweaters. I inquired why they didn't wear furs, and they replied that they didn't get them out until the cold weather set in!

I have always loved Mexico, but my Mexican lecture tour was disappointing -- perhaps I traveled in the wrong circles. Primarily we were speaking to missionaries, and I found them more interested in "potty training" the natives than harboring a passion to talk about the Lord Jesus. Many of the "sent ones" appeared to be there because they had no better place to go, and they confided that their mission was to fit into the community -- a process expected to take many years. It was not the Pauline approach to evangelism. And rather than being thrown down the steps of the local religious establishments or tossed into jail, like St Paul, some of them were busy figuring out how to buy property. Of course there were the exceptions. A notable one was Dorothy Long, a pretty little blonde who heard me speak, stayed to argue doctrine, became convinced, and received the gift of the Spirit. For her dedication she was asked to leave the missionary organization of which she was a part. It worked out well as she married a widowed Mexican minister with seven children. She is now happily engaged in being a pastor's wife in an indigenous church.

Before that trip I had found myself becoming weary of organization and materialism and had confided to a few close friends that I would like to chuck it all and be a missionary. This struck them as intensely amusing. They couldn't imagine me without a maid and a swimming pool, or traveling without a mountain of luggage. But after Mexico I decided that nothing could ever induce me to be a missionary. God had other plans. On April 17, 1967, my husband and I awakened to the ringing of the alarm clock. As he sleepily groped to shut it off, I said brightly, "I just dreamed that I spoke in tongues and interpreted. Would you like to hear the interpretation?" What can a man say when at 7:30 AM his wife inquires if he wants to hear from God?

I explained that I had dreamed we were going to China as missionaries. In the dream I saw a map and the section to which we appeared to be going was in the area of Yunan, Szechwan and Tibet. We were getting ready to leave but had some problems: we didn't have enough money and all of our friends and relatives were against our going. One of my aunts said to me, "Don't you have some words to say, so you won't have so much trouble?" I thought, "I can pray." I stood up and said, "Father in Heaven, obviously this is not Your will for us to have so much difficulty, so it must be Satan trying to keep us from fulfilling Your plan. We come against him in the name of Lord Jesus and ask that You stop his activities." Still in the dream, I began speaking in tongues. I remember thinking, "This is not my normal prayer language. I wonder if it is the language of the people where we are going?" Suddenly I knew what the interpretation was and spoke it:

Is My arm short that I cannot raise up a standard against the enemy who would short-circuit your work? I shall surround you with armies of angels to protect you and shall send you forth where the light of the Gospel has never fallen, and you shall be effective in that strange land and shall bring many into a knowledge of Jesus Christ, and the people there shall call you Fire and Wind because of your ministry.

And that was when the alarm went off.

Richard stared at me, "Don't you know American can't go there? That's Red China."

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