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The Lamb In The Midst Of The Throne The Lamb In The Midst Of The Throne

The Lamb In The Midst Of The Throne Order Printed Copy

  • Author: T. Austin-Sparks
  • Size: 530KB | 76 pages
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About the Book


"The Lamb in the Midst of the Throne" by T. Austin-Sparks is a book that delves into the importance of Jesus Christ as the center of God's purposes and plans. It explores the significance of Jesus being portrayed as a Lamb in the book of Revelation and how this symbolism points to His sacrificial death and ultimate victory over sin and death. The book emphasizes the centrality of Jesus in the believer's life and the powerful impact of His redemptive work.

A. A. Allen

A. A. Allen Born in Sulphur Rock, Arkansas, in 1911, he grew up with an alcoholic father and an unfaithful mother who lived with a series of men. “By the time I was twenty-one,” recalled Allen, “I was a nervous wreck. I couldn’t get a cigarette to my lip with one hand. . . . I was a confirmed drunkard.” (Lexie Allen, God’s Man of Faith and Power, p57, 1954). Two years later he served a jail sentence for stealing corn in the midst of the depression and thought of himself as “an ex-jailbird drifting aimlessly through life.” It was at this point that Allen was converted in a “tongues speaking” Methodist church in 1934 He met his wife, Lexie in Colorado and she became a powerful influence in shaping him for his future ministry. Licensed by the Assemblies of God as a minister in 1936 began an effective evangelistic ministry at a small church in Colorado. After a two year pastorate he spent four-and-a-half years during World War II, as a full-time revivalist. He was the worship leader, musician and preacher but low finances and mediocre results took their toll on this father of four children. He left the itinerant ministry in 1947 when he was offered the security of a pastorate in a stable Assemblies of God church in Corpus Christi, Texas. Soon after moving to Texas he heard news of the revival and read a copy of ‘The Voice of Healing’ magazine which he found incredulous and labelled the revivalists “fanatics.” However, in 1949, he attended an Oral Roberts campaign in Dallas where he was enthralled by Roberts’ power over the audience and left convinced that the revival was from God Back in Texas, when his church board refused to sponsor a radio program, he resigned and began conducting revivals again with the hope that he too might develop a major healing ministry. In, He sent his first report to The Voice of Healing in May 1950, from Oakland, California, “Many say this is the greatest Revival in the history of Oakland” in what was to become typical AAA style. He said, “Although I do not claim to possess the gift of healing, hundreds are being miraculously healed in this meeting of every known disease. I do not claim to possess a single gift of the Spirit nor to have the power to impart any gift to others, yet in this meeting, as well as in other recent meetings, all the gifts of the Spirit are being received and exercised night after night. (The Voice of Healing May 1950) Observing the burgeoning ministry of others he noticed that the evangelists who were drawing the largest crowds were doing so under canvas. In the summer of 1951 joined the ranks of the tent ministries giving a down payment and commitment to pay off the remaining amount as the ministry grew – and it did. He established his headquarters in Dallas and in 1953 launched the Allen Revival Hour on radio. He conducted overseas campaigns in Cuba and Mexico regularly, and by1955 was broadcasting on seventeen Latin American radio stations as well as eighteen American ones. Allen’s sanguine personality expressed itself in his enthusiastic reports, unparalleled showmanship and startling miraculous claims. He was a persuasive preacher, with a compelling presence and unusual empathy and rapport with the common people. He preached an old-time Pentecostal message with consummate skill. His message of holiness resonated in the hearts of those reared in austere Pentecostalism. His stage presence and theatrical approach endeared him to the economically deprived working class and also to black communities. Ever the showman he made religion enjoyable and church-going fun. But, above all, it was the power of God which attracted the huge audiences over the years. Thousands were converted in the midst of dramatic public healings and deliverances from evil spirits. Nothing was ‘done in a corner’ but all was employed to support the message that Jesus was alive and interested in the needs of ordinary people. A. A. Allen considered himself the most persecuted preacher in the world. The Assemblies of God were not happy with his apparently questionable, or at least exaggerated, claims. His readiness to publicly counter-attack his accusers brought a continual stream of criticism and alienation from mainline Pentecostals. But the accusation that he drank abusively was the straw that broke the camel’s back. In the fall 1955, he was arrested for drunken driving while conducting a revival in Knoxville, Tennessee. The local press took the opportunity to attack and expose Allen and the beleaguered minister forfeited his bail rather than stand trial on the charge. Whatever the truth was Allen called the incident an “unprecedented persecution” aimed at ruining his ministry. As always he employed even the worst accusations to reinforce his claims that his commitment to God’s work in God’s way was truly from heaven, despite the fact that the Devil continually tried to destroy his ministry. His Miracle Magazine published his defense: Allen declares that all this is but a trick of the devil to try to kill his ministry and his influence among his friends at a time when God has granted him greater miracles in his ministry than ever before. . . . If ministers pay the price of real MIRACLES today, they will meet with greater persecution than ever before. The only way to escape such persecution is to fold up and quit! But we are going on! Will you go on with us? (Miracle Magazine October, 1955) Gordon Lindsay felt that the Voice of Healing had to take “a strong stand on ethics.” Allen resigned from the group, pre-empting their imminent dismissal. He immediately began publishing his own magazine, and, although he affected a cordial relationship with his former colleagues in the Voice of Healing, feelings remained strained. In some ways independence suited Allen. His daughter recalled: The Knoxville event also led to Allen’s separation from the Assemblies of God. It was suggested that he “withdraw from the public ministry until the matter at Knoxville be settled.” Allen’s response was to surrender his credentials as “a withdrawal from public ministry at this time would ruin my ministry, for it would have the appearance of an admission of guilt.” By the mid-1950’s many of the more moderate ministers tried to continue to work with the Pentecostal denominations – or at least to remain friendly – but Allen repeatedly attacked organized religion and urged Pentecostal ministers to establish independent churches which would be free to support the revival. He charged that the Sunday school had replaced the altar in the Pentecostal churches and that few church members were filled with the Holy Ghost: “Revivals are almost a thing of the past. Many pastors, and even evangelists, declare they will never try another one. They say it doesn’t work. They are holding “Sunday School Conventions,” “Teacher Training Courses,” and social gatherings. With few exceptions the churches today are leaning more and more toward dependence upon organizational strength, and natural ability, and denominational “methods.” They no longer expect to get their increase through the old fashioned revival altar bench, or through the miracle working power of God, but rather through the Sunday School.” In fall 1956, Allen announced the formation of the Miracle Revival Fellowship, an alternative fellowship intended to license independent ministers and to support missions. Theologically, the fellowship welcomed all who accepted “the concept that Christ is the only essential doctrine.” Allen urged laymen as well as ministers to join his fellowship, through his “Every Member an Exhorter plan.” Although Allen announced that “MRF is not interested in dividing churches,” he also disclosed that “the purpose of this corporation shall be to encourage the establishing and the maintenance of independent local, sovereign, indigenous, autonomous churches.” The fellowship listed more than 500 ministers in its “first ordination Interestingly, as other ministries were struggling and the revival was waning, Allen’s charisma and ministry skills coupled with well-staged revivals and an amazingly gifted team, enabled him to re-establish his ministry and rebuild a substantial and effective work. Miracle Magazine was resounding success. At the end of a year’s publication in 1956, it had a paid subscription of about 200,000,and, according to Mrs. Allen, was “the fastest growing subscription magazine in the world today.” In 1957, Allen began conducting the International Miracle Revival Training Camp, an embryonic ministerial training centre. In 1958, he was given land in Arizona where he began building a permanent headquarters and training centre. At the height of the 1958 crisis in the revival, Allen announced a five-pronged program for his ministry: tent revivals, the Allen Revival Hour radio broadcast, an overseas mission program, the Miracle Valley Training Centre, and a “great number of dynamic books and faith inspiring tracts” published by the ministry. In 1958, Allen purchased Jack Coe’s old tent and proudly announced that he was moving into the “largest tent in the world.” His old-time revivalism, up-beat gospel music and anointed entertainers continued to attract the masses. Allan died at the Jack Tar Hotel in San Francisco, California on June 11, 1970 at the age of 59. Some claim that Allen died an alcoholic because the coroner’s report concluded Allen died from liver failure brought on by acute alcoholism. Others know that he had battled with excruciating pain from severe arthritis in his knees, for over a year. It is true that Allen had undergone surgery on one of his knees and in June of 1970, was considering surgery on the other knee. They believe that the Coroner’s Report of “fatty infiltration of the liver” was a result of the few times he used alcohol in his last days to alleviate the excruciating pain of his arthritis. Whatever is true of his death the life of A. A. Allen was one of extraordinary commitment to Jesus Christ which brought victory over the enemy of mankind. A. A. Allen was a true survivor. Even though the revival was declining in the late 1950’s and 1960’s his commitment to old-time faith-healing campaigns ensured the continuing testimony of signs and wonders to the next generation. He may have had his personal ‘quirks and foibles’ but the testimony of thousands of the blessing they received, the enduring love for God that resulted and the demonstration of the power of the Gospel are good reasons to give God thanks for such an amazing life!

God Can Meet Us in the Ashes

Strict practitioners would not have approved of my methods, but on one long ago mid-winter Wednesday, I smeared ashes on the foreheads of my two preschoolers and myself. An offering of the hardwood that had heated our home the day before, these ashes were not “ceremonially correct” in any way. At the time, I did not know that traditional Ash Wednesday ashes come from the remains of Palm Sunday palms. I did not even know about the forty days of Lent to follow. However, I did know about sin — my own and my children’s. We were in “time out” season with one of our sons. At our wits’ end, we had exhausted Dr. Dobson, Elisabeth Elliot, and every parenting resource available in the nineties. “Why is it so hard to be good?” our little Dobson-buster would ask. His younger brother’s eyes would fill with tears whenever they were caught in collaborative naughtiness. In this parenting pressure cooker, maternal apologies had become a daily occurrence. I was hoping to model repentance — while at the same time atoning for sharp words and a short fuse. “I was wrong; please forgive me” were the words through which my sons were learning that their mother had not outgrown the struggle against sin. Ash Wednesday gives Christians an opportunity to grow in our understanding of where to take that struggle. Reclaiming Lent for Christ Historically, our earliest Protestant ancestors revolted against the idea of Lenten practices, and with good reason. In the pre-Reformation mind, penitence, ashes, and self-denial had become ends in themselves. Gradually, however, a biblical understanding of lament has re-entered Christian orthodoxy, anchored in an embrace of our fallen-ness. Ashes on the forehead rightly represent our need to “repent in dust and ashes” (Job 42:5–6), and our identity as “a people of unclean lips [who] dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips” (Isaiah 6:5). Jesus pronounced a blessing upon those who recognize their poverty of spirit and mourn the effects of sin on their life and in the world (Matthew 5:3–4). Grounded in gospel truth that prompts genuine penitence without crippling guilt and deep conviction without devastating shame, Ash Wednesday invites the believer to a renewed awe of our great salvation. While there is no merit in the wearing of ashes, a season of mourning leading up to Easter may actually enhance our celebration of Resurrection Sunday. A Wednesday to Teach In my challenging season of parenting, Ash Wednesday became a visual aid, a teaching tool to reassure my young sons that our sin does not signal the end of God’s love for us. In our home, hymns around the breakfast table always matched the season, and one year, we learned all four verses of a “cross hymn” in the weeks leading up to Easter. Rich hymns of the faith offer deep gospel truth that requires explanation (but not dilution) for little singers: When I survey the wondrous cross On which the Prince of Glory died, All the vain things that charm me most I sacrifice them to His blood. The vain-ness of the “vain things” Isaac Watts wrote about becomes abundantly clear when we remember that nothing lasts forever. “Remember that you are dust” is the lyric of Ash Wednesday. God made us from dust, and our bodies do not live forever. This is a dying world we inhabit: everything from goldfish to grandfathers eventually stops living. And we mourn the loss. Without becoming morbid or frightening, we can prepare our children for the inevitability of death by putting it in the context of the gospel. Thomas á Kempis prescribed a regular pondering of and preparation for death as a route to happiness. Author Gary Thomas suggests that we present-day believers ought to join á Kempis in allowing the reality of death to act “like a filter, helping us to hold on to the essential and let go of the trivial.” For believers, the “essential” is the eternal, and the eternal comes to us through the cross. The paradox of death leading to rebirth only appears to be a contradiction. All of Christ’s gifts are given to us through death — his death. And it will only be through a different death — our death — that we will finally receive the fullness of life that Jesus died to impart. A Wednesday to Remember My sons and I stood before a mirror together, the three of us with our smudged foreheads. We talked about our struggle to obey God and our sadness over sin — the sin that causes mayhem in our home, hurt feelings between brothers, and, worst of all, separation from a God who loves us. When a little boy is struggling with disobedience, even as a preschooler, he already feels the grit and grind of life on a fallen planet. He may not be able to comprehend sin’s cosmic scale: “For the creation was subjected to futility, not willingly, but because of him who subjected it, in hope. . .” (Romans 8:20). But he is already well-acquainted with the collective groaning, and can love the truth about the hope of our future deliverance from the struggle: “. . . that the creation itself will be set free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God” (Romans 8:21). Reading selected, age-appropriate portions of the crucifixion story from Luke 22 and thinking about Jesus’s willingness to endure the weight of all the sins of the entire world on his body provides a focus for the wearing of our ashes as a symbol of our grief — mourning that we have sinned and caused division from God and sadness over the suffering Jesus endured when he died in our place. A Wednesday to Rejoice If good behavior is all I have to bring to Jesus, he cannot help me. The warm welcome of the gospel on a frigid day in early spring takes into account a little boy’s hopelessness in the face of temptation. Our sin does not signal the end of our relationship with God. It’s a beginning, for it turns out that weakness is a powerful claim upon divine mercy. Learning to hate sin at a young age, to war against it, and to receive God’s forgiveness is a celebratory milestone. There is a reason to rejoice because of Christ’s obedience to all that God commanded. Then, his love in paying the penalty for our failure to obey gives us a reason for hope, even against the backdrop of my own parenting fiascos and my sons’ serial naughtiness. God knows well the stuff we are made of. “He remembers that we are dust” (Psalm 103:14). As a loving heavenly Father, he longs to supply every need for righteous living — in fact it is only his righteousness that will suffice. This orientation provides a solid foundation for a lifelong relationship built on the assurance that God’s purposes will not be thwarted by my sin. He delights to meet me and my children in the ashes. Article by Michele Morin

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