<TITLE>11. Par 34-36</TITLE>L-34 Notice now, just another thing. He said in here to this Laodicean church age, that we're now living in, He said, "I counsel of you to come and buy from Me, fine gold." Said, "You've said that you are rich." Now, how rich is the church today? The greatest buildings it ever had, the most money it ever had. "You say, 'I'm rich, and I have need of nothing.' And you don't know that you are naked, miserable, blind, poor, and wretched, and don't know it." What is it? "I..." and don't know it.
Now, if you seen a man coming down the street that was wretched, naked, blind, and you could run up to him and say, "Sir, you're naked."
"Oh, am I, sir? Well, said, "I'll... you help me?"
"I've got help for you here and come in right quick, let me clothe you." Well if... If he was... If he would listen to you, all right. But what if the man's in that condition and doesn't know it? And the Bible said that this last church age would be that way.

L-35 And you Pentecostal people, you have got the best churches you ever had. And you'd be a lot better off down on the mission with... on the street down here, with a little ten cent pan, beating on the drums, or something like that, calling sinners to repent, than it would be in these great big church you got, turning into morgues. You know that's right.
Now, that... I don't mean to hurt your feelings. I'm your brother. And I'm just telling you the truth. So Laodicean church... That's the reason I said about you women making all yourself up, you Pentecostal women wearing that manicure over your face, you know... Well that stuff, ever what it is. You don't need that. No, sir. That's of the devil.
Let me tell you, there's only one woman in the Bible that ever painted her face, and her name was Jezebel. And God fed her to the dogs. So you see, it's dog meat to paint your face like that. I don't mean that for no joke. This is not a place to joke, friend. I'm just telling you the truth. It's a heathen trait. What's happened?
Now, It said that, "Miserable, wretched, blind, and don't know it.

L-36 I was raised in Kentucky in a little old clap-board shingled house. And Mama used to take all us little Branhams and stick us all in one bed: about three at the foot, and three at the head, and about three or four across the middle. And she would... Then we had just an old piece of canvas she would put over the top of the bed to keep the snow and the rain out of our eyes. And the draft would come through and... At night time when that cold wind would come through, sometimes--Mama called it "matter"--cold would get in our eyes, and it'd stick our eyes together. And I was the oldest, and she'd say, "Billy, come on down."
I'd say, "Mammy, I can't see. My eyes have stuck together."
And my little brother, Edward, he'd say, "I can't see either, Mammy."
You see, we'd caught cold in our eyes. And--and they got infection, and it stuck our eyelids together. And my grandpa was a coon hunter, and used to catch coons, raccoons, and take them out and he would render the grease out of them. And Mama would go get that old pan, set it on the stove, that coon grease. She'd get it real good and hot, and come up there, and massaged our eyes and... And then it--after a while they could open. I don't know what happened, but it softened up the--the matter in our eyes, and--and we could see.


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