By Elmer Ellsworth Shelhamer
DEMOTION AND PROMOTION
Doubtless the Psalmist wrote these words from experience, as well as from inspiration. How true! Today a man may tower above the greatest; tomorrow he may cower before the meanest. As I grow older, and see the possibilities of obscurity and the uncertainty of popularity, I am inclined more than ever to be considerate of others, especially of the poor. I feel like tipping my hat to every ragged, ignorant boy, for later, when he has become a great speaker, I may e glad to find a seat in his audience, or, when he sits as judge, I may need to ask of him a favor. Treat the boy considerately, for you may someday want him to treat you the same. It was the making of Joseph to be thrown into prison unjustly for over two years. It took this to ripen and mellow him. Shortly after my conversion I attended my first camp meeting. It was all new to me. I was a total stranger to the campers and they seemed to think that mine was not a genuine case of religion because I had not been cast in their mold. T received few and feeble "Amens," and was left to stand around alone, without fellowship. It became so noticeable that an on-looker remonstrated with some of the brethren about it. One of the preachers "felt, led" to tell me not to be so noisy during the altar services, while others treated me with cold suspicion. It was a great trial, coming as it did from holiness people and those who should have taken me in and, if need be, taught me the ways of the Lord more perfectly. Right here is where good people sometimes make a great mistake, and become narrow and sectarian toward a stranger, or one who is not of their crowd. Suppose he does not pray or testify with our particular tone of voice; or, grant that he does not dress as plainly as we, will we ever help him by huddling together and treating him as though he were a leper? I remember how I looked upon those ministers! "I would give the world," thought I, "if I could exhort and move the people like Brother P-." But since then the same man has come to me in despair, because his brethren had expelled him for crime. Then there was another brother who could give such fine Bible readings. "Oh, if I could only be with that man and learn the Scriptures!" thought I to myself. Since then, he came some distance to have us help pray him through from a backslidden state. Another brother who was much gifted in song and prayer, but who passed me by when I hoped he would speak, has since spoken, and asked me if I could give him a home. He who hushed me up at the altar service lost his reason and was in a pitiable condition the last we heard. I did not dream at the time, nor did they, that there would be such changes in a few short years. Nor did I even fondly hope that the time would come when the same awkward country boy would be invited to preach on the same camp ground to thousands of hearers. As a result, many seekers came to the altar, some of whom had passed by the lonely boy twenty-five years before. "It is a long road that has no turn." I was assisting a general conference evangelist in a tent meeting. Some of the members found they were not right and the pastor blamed me for "unsettling them." Accordingly, he met me one evening outside the tent and said with a great deal of feeling, "I am very sorry, but I will have to ask you not to take part in any more of the services." I did not want to be a hindrance to the meeting, so, instead of taking my place on the platform, I sat in the audience. After a couple songs had been sung the evangelist looked around to see his helper, and, spying me in the audience, said, "What are you doing down there, Brother Shelhamer? Come up here where you belong." I confess I was in a strait betwixt two, and looked first this way, then that, but finally decided that the evangelist was proper authority. This made the pastor look cheap, and I was sorry for him, but the order was, "Come up higher," and I had to obey. It was another case of "Thorns, then Roses." At the close of this tent meeting I was invited to assist in a good camp meeting in the same city, but have never heard much of the little authoritative pastor since, though that was nearly thirty years ago. I fear he has had his Thorns, but few Roses.
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