Ernest Landers

In 1924, I was on my way to California when I stopped in Portland, Oregon, for a day or two of rest. During that time, the Lord permitted me to come into contact with the Apostolic Faith people. I was standing at the corner of Sixth and Washington when a big truck-like car drove up. Some members of the Apostolic Faith Church got out and began to hold a street meeting there. I don’t believe I would have listened if I had not been standing there already, but what they said interested me. They testified to how the Lord had saved their souls and healed their bodies. The drunkard, the dope fiend, and the moral man all had the same testimony of salvation and deliverance. That kind of power in the Gospel was a revelation to my soul. I had never heard anything like it.

Some of the men said the Lord had healed their bodies of incurable diseases. I thought that was remarkable. I made up my mind to investigate, because I had tuberculosis, a dreadful malignant disease of the lungs, and was unable to find a cure for it. My mother and brother had died of the same thing, and the physicians had given up on me.

I had been raised carefully in a good home in Germany, but I had never heard of people being healed by the Lord. My folks were proud, stiff-necked members of the Lutheran faith. We went to church, and I attended Sunday school and Bible teachings, but divine healing wasn’t preached where I came from. The word “salvation” was mentioned in our church, but I was under the impression it was just another word for religion.

Though I was taught and educated under the strictest discipline in the Lutheran doctrine and in fundamental Christian belief, my parents failed to teach me the way of salvation. I could pass for a good Christian boy, and later was considered a fine, polished young man, but I was not a Christian. I did not harm or cheat anyone, and I lived a clean, moral life, but I did not have Jesus in my heart.

My father was the senior member of a shoe manufacturing concern, so I received a fine education. I went away to school and when I came back, I was an affirmed unbeliever. I no longer believed in the virgin birth or the divinity of Christ. No, I could not believe. The devil had robbed me of faith. Instead, I had turned to the religion of the mind. I had a lot of nonsense in my head, but no reality–just pretense.

In this deplorable condition, I came into my first Apostolic Faith meeting on a Sunday night. The congregation had already started singing, and I was impressed by the music. I took in the meeting with interest. At the close, I made an effort to go forward to the altar, but people were kneeling everywhere and there was no room for one more. About half way down the aisle, someone set a chair in front of me and asked if I wanted to kneel and pray. I bent my stubborn knees and cried out for mercy.

I forgot all about my sickness, my weak and emaciated body; my only concern was for my soul. I prayed hard giving up my rebellion and unbelief, and the Lord came in and saved me and made a real change in my life. Afterwards, the leaders in the church prayed for me, because I was just skin and bones. The next morning, I found that the Lord had healed me of that terrible disease, tuberculosis.

That was twenty-five years ago, and I am still under the Blood and have the victory today. God has healed me on many occasions since then, and He has sanctified me and filled me with the Holy Spirit. He has never failed me. I praise the Lord for this wonderful old-time Gospel.