<TITLE>05. Par 18-24</TITLE>L-18 Each one tries to think he's a little smarter than the other man, each denomination. The Methodists will say, "We got the smartest men." The Baptist will say, and the Church of Christ, and so forth, they all, "We, we're the smartest. We... Our--our people, we don't let just the ordinary men go out and preach the Gospel." But they handpick them. (O God, have mercy.) Handpick them; if they're indocumated with their certain doctrine, then they put them in the church. God can't touch him in no way. I want somebody to preach to me that's been hand-picked by the Holy Ghost, God has raised up, not picked by men or denominations.
All knowledge... They say, "Oh, we know all about it," and some of them doesn't know the first alphabet of the Holy Spirit. They deny It.

L-20 It reminds me of a little book I read one day in California, about ten years ago. I picked it up in an old bookstore. I forget who was the author, just a little ten cent book, but it had some good sense to it, though it seemed jokingly and cunningly. But I found something in there that sounded like God to me. And one of the little stories started out like this.
One morning in a great chicken pen, there was a certain little rooster that thought he'd had all the knowledge that there was to be known. So he flies up on a box and beat his little bill against the box four or five times, flew back his little head, and crowed like you never heard a rooster crow. And the others, he attracted their attention, and he said, "Ladies and gentlemen of this chicken pen, I would like to speak to you all this morning on some great educational program we have just designed." Said, "I have required a lot of knowledge in my studying," as he pulled his little glasses over his bill. And he said, "I have decided that we chickens can better ourselves by more knowledge. Therefore, I can tell you that where, if we will dig and work in a certain pen or hole, we'll find a certain vitamin that'll make us crow better, prettier feathers. And, oh, I can tell you how we can en-better ourselves in many different ways."

L-21 And the little pullets with their little red combs, they just cackled and said, "Isn't he a darling?" And they certainly admired him. "Oh, he is such a brilliant rooster." Reminds me of some of these here seminary preachers: "Such a brilliant man. There's no need of us hanging around with the rest the chickens; we all ought to go with him."
Well, before the little fellow got his speech finished, there was another little chicken that didn't have such bright feathers, come running in from the rest of the chicken yard, and said, "Boys, just a minute. I just heard the latest bulletin on the radio. Chickens went up four cents on the pound; we're all going to the slaughter tomorrow. What good's your knowledge going to do?"
Brother, all the knowledge that we can accumulate, what good does it do? We're six-foot of dirt. We're all dying by inches and by minutes. Our knowledge means nothing. We want to know Him. But they do that.

L-24 As I was remarking sometime ago about a certain little canary, and he thought he knowed all the knowledge that--that need to be knowed, and he knowed so much that he could tell all the rest the canaries about the human beings. So he flies up on his cage and he begins to speak about the human being, how he knowed all about them. And all of a sudden, a professor from Purdue walked up and begin to speak some high-polished words to him, and the little fellow batted his eyes and turned his head. Now, he had eyes; he could see the professor. He had ears; he could hear him. But of course he didn't know what he was talking about. Why? He's got a canary brain. He's just a bird-brain. That's all he's got. He hasn't got a human brain, so he can't think like human beings.
And neither can a human being think like God. You're human, and all the worldly knowledge is no more than a canary brain. All that you do, you just hurt yourself with it. You've got to have the mind of Christ.


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