They Did Their Part: Now Its Time for Us to Do Ours
They Did Their Part: Now It's Time for Us to Do Ours
On this Memorial Day weekend, which also happens to be Pentecost Sunday, we find ourselves at a unique intersection of remembrance and spiritual renewal. It's a moment to pause and consider a haunting question: What legacy are we leaving for the next generation?
The Warning of Moses
Before the children of Israel entered the Promised Land, Moses delivered a sobering message that echoes through the centuries. In Deuteronomy 4:9, he warned: "Only be careful and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them slip from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them."
Moses gave three clear instructions: Remember it. Live it. Teach it.
But did Israel listen? Just a few pages later in the book of Judges, we read a devastating statement: "After that whole generation had been gathered to their ancestors, another generation grew up who knew neither the Lord nor what he had done for Israel."
In one generation, the knowledge of God was lost.
How does this happen? How can a people who witnessed miracles, who saw God part waters and provide manna from heaven, fail to pass that faith to their children?
Moses gave three clear instructions: Remember it. Live it. Teach it.
But did Israel listen? Just a few pages later in the book of Judges, we read a devastating statement: "After that whole generation had been gathered to their ancestors, another generation grew up who knew neither the Lord nor what he had done for Israel."
In one generation, the knowledge of God was lost.
How does this happen? How can a people who witnessed miracles, who saw God part waters and provide manna from heaven, fail to pass that faith to their children?
The Price of Freedom
Memorial Day reminds us that freedom comes at a cost. Soldiers throughout American history have given their lives so we could enjoy the liberties we often take for granted. They sacrificed so we could worship freely, speak openly, and live without tyranny.
But have we forgotten? Has Memorial Day become merely a long weekend for cookouts and trips to the lake rather than a solemn day of remembrance?
More importantly, what are we doing to preserve and pass on the freedoms they died to secure? Are we teaching the next generation the value of what was purchased with such precious blood?
They did their part. Now it's time for us to do ours.
But have we forgotten? Has Memorial Day become merely a long weekend for cookouts and trips to the lake rather than a solemn day of remembrance?
More importantly, what are we doing to preserve and pass on the freedoms they died to secure? Are we teaching the next generation the value of what was purchased with such precious blood?
They did their part. Now it's time for us to do ours.
The Pentecostal Heritage
This same principle applies to our spiritual heritage. Pentecost Sunday celebrates the outpouring of the Holy Spirit recorded in Acts 2—the birthday of the church. After the disciples prayed, "they were all filled with the Holy Spirit and spoke the word of God boldly" (Acts 4:31).
The Holy Spirit wasn't given for personal comfort alone. It was given for power—power to be witnesses "in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
Consider the story of the Azusa Street Revival. In 1906, a humble holiness preacher named William J. Seymour arrived in Los Angeles to pastor a small church. When he preached about the baptism of the Holy Spirit with the evidence of speaking in tongues, the congregation locked him out.
Stranded in a new city, Seymour began holding Bible studies and prayer meetings in a house on Bonnie Bray Street. Soon, the Holy Spirit fell. People were filled with the Spirit, healed, and transformed. The crowds grew so large they moved to an abandoned Methodist church building on Azusa Street—a former livery stable with an orange crate for a pulpit and planks over nail kegs for pews.
For three and a half years, services ran continuously—three times a day, but really never stopping. People came from around the world. Miracles happened. Lives were changed. The Los Angeles Times reported on the "weird babble of tongues" but couldn't deny the miracles.
From that humble mission, disciples spread across America and around the globe, carrying the fire of Pentecost. Churches were planted. The Assemblies of God was formed in 1914. Generations have been blessed because those early believers did their part.
But will we do ours?
The Holy Spirit wasn't given for personal comfort alone. It was given for power—power to be witnesses "in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth."
Consider the story of the Azusa Street Revival. In 1906, a humble holiness preacher named William J. Seymour arrived in Los Angeles to pastor a small church. When he preached about the baptism of the Holy Spirit with the evidence of speaking in tongues, the congregation locked him out.
Stranded in a new city, Seymour began holding Bible studies and prayer meetings in a house on Bonnie Bray Street. Soon, the Holy Spirit fell. People were filled with the Spirit, healed, and transformed. The crowds grew so large they moved to an abandoned Methodist church building on Azusa Street—a former livery stable with an orange crate for a pulpit and planks over nail kegs for pews.
For three and a half years, services ran continuously—three times a day, but really never stopping. People came from around the world. Miracles happened. Lives were changed. The Los Angeles Times reported on the "weird babble of tongues" but couldn't deny the miracles.
From that humble mission, disciples spread across America and around the globe, carrying the fire of Pentecost. Churches were planted. The Assemblies of God was formed in 1914. Generations have been blessed because those early believers did their part.
But will we do ours?
The Missionary Sacrifice
The cost of spreading the gospel has always been high. In 1924, Eric and Lucille Clyburn arrived in Upper Volta (modern-day Burkina Faso) as missionaries. Within two weeks, Eric contracted dysentery, then malaria. Within months, at age 29, he was dead, leaving behind a pregnant wife and a baby daughter.
On his missionary application, Eric had written: "I understand and have caught the vision of what it really means... And I am willing to lay down my life if necessary that souls might be won to Christ."
He did his part. Today, there is a strong Assembly of God church in Burkina Faso because of missionaries like the Clyburns.
In 1943, Oren and Florence Munger went to Nicaragua. Known as a prayer warrior, Oren would ride his mule into mountain villages, sharing the gospel and praying for revival. It came. But in 1945, at just 25 years old, Oren died of typhoid.
Before his death, he had written: "It is not in the great number of missionaries that evangelism of this world lies. It's in the intense glow with which the fire brands burn."
Oren Munger was one of God's firebrands. Revival came to Nicaragua because he did his part.
On his missionary application, Eric had written: "I understand and have caught the vision of what it really means... And I am willing to lay down my life if necessary that souls might be won to Christ."
He did his part. Today, there is a strong Assembly of God church in Burkina Faso because of missionaries like the Clyburns.
In 1943, Oren and Florence Munger went to Nicaragua. Known as a prayer warrior, Oren would ride his mule into mountain villages, sharing the gospel and praying for revival. It came. But in 1945, at just 25 years old, Oren died of typhoid.
Before his death, he had written: "It is not in the great number of missionaries that evangelism of this world lies. It's in the intense glow with which the fire brands burn."
Oren Munger was one of God's firebrands. Revival came to Nicaragua because he did his part.
The Faithful Few
Not everyone is called to die as a martyr, but everyone is called to faithfulness. Think of the custodian who spent his retirement years mowing church grass and teaching Sunday school. The organist who played at every service and never stopped praying for her unsaved husband—who finally came to Christ before he died. The song leader who worked overtime at an aircraft factory but never missed a service.
These faithful servants didn't seek recognition. They simply did their part, creating a foundation for future generations to build upon.
These faithful servants didn't seek recognition. They simply did their part, creating a foundation for future generations to build upon.
The Question Before Us
So here we stand, beneficiaries of tremendous sacrifice—both physical and spiritual. The question haunts us: Will we do our part?
Will the next generation know the power of God the way we did? Will they experience the moving of the Holy Spirit? Will they see signs and wonders? Will Pentecost Sunday mean anything to them, or will there arise another generation that knows not the Lord?
We can't go back to Azusa Street. Those leaders are gone. But the same Holy Spirit that empowered them is here to help us. The ball is in our court.
Will our passion match theirs? Will our commitment equal theirs? Will our sacrifice honor theirs?
God hasn't changed. The same Holy Spirit is available today. He stands ready to pour out His power on anyone who is open, willing, and available.
In these last days, God is looking for willing vessels—people who will say, "Here am I. Use me." It doesn't matter if He calls you to ride a tractor and mow grass or to preach to thousands. What matters is faithfulness.
Will the next generation know the power of God the way we did? Will they experience the moving of the Holy Spirit? Will they see signs and wonders? Will Pentecost Sunday mean anything to them, or will there arise another generation that knows not the Lord?
We can't go back to Azusa Street. Those leaders are gone. But the same Holy Spirit that empowered them is here to help us. The ball is in our court.
Will our passion match theirs? Will our commitment equal theirs? Will our sacrifice honor theirs?
God hasn't changed. The same Holy Spirit is available today. He stands ready to pour out His power on anyone who is open, willing, and available.
In these last days, God is looking for willing vessels—people who will say, "Here am I. Use me." It doesn't matter if He calls you to ride a tractor and mow grass or to preach to thousands. What matters is faithfulness.
The Call to Action
Remember it. Don't forget what God has done—in history, in the church, in your own life.
Live it. Don't just remember the stories; live out the same faith, passion, and power.
Teach it. Make sure the next generation knows what you've seen and experienced. Share it with your children, your grandchildren, everyone in your sphere of influence.
The fires of Pentecost must burn brightly in our generation so we can hand them, still blazing, to the next.
They did their part. Now it's time for us to do ours.
Will you answer the call?
Live it. Don't just remember the stories; live out the same faith, passion, and power.
Teach it. Make sure the next generation knows what you've seen and experienced. Share it with your children, your grandchildren, everyone in your sphere of influence.
The fires of Pentecost must burn brightly in our generation so we can hand them, still blazing, to the next.
They did their part. Now it's time for us to do ours.
Will you answer the call?
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