NEVER SPEAK EVIL ABOUT SOMEONE ELSE

I remember in my home town of McKinney, Texas, there was a fellow by the name of Brother Smith. His church believed in a second definite work of grace and sanctification after the new birth. Their thinking was that it's all right whether or not you speak with tongues. But he was strong in the area of divine healing, because he had been well taught on the subject. He is an example of someone who retained his youth to a great extent, even when he was up in age.

Many years ago I scheduled some meetings to come back to my hometown of McKinney to preach two or three nights in my home church. It was a Full Gospel church. Brother Smith came out to one of my meetings even though he wasn't a member of that church. When the service was over, he said to me, "You know, Brother Hagin, I always liked to hear you preach because you always preach positive — you always preach on faith and healing. I like that." He continued: "Brother Hagin, I'll be ninety years old in three weeks. And you know, I'm just as good a man — just as strong — in every way as I was as a young man." And he looked good.

He said, "God's kept me. You know, I haven't been sick in forty years. I got to reading in the Bible one day where Jesus said, 'The very hairs of your head are numbered' [Matt. 10:30; Luke 12:7]. In other words, He knows just how many hairs you have in your head. "I got to thinking about that years ago. And I said to the Lord, 'Well, Lord, You know how many hairs I have. I'm just going to believe You to keep my hair.'" So at age ninety, this man had all of his hair. Not only that, but Brother Smith at ninety years of age had only a few grey hairs. He believed God to keep his hair from turning grey.

My wife had never met Brother Smith before that night. Later I asked her, "If Brother Smith hadn't told us, how old would you think he is?" She said, "Not a day over fifty-five." Brother Smith was also a man of wealth, yet he'd get out and work every day. In fact, he'd outwork most young men. After Brother Smith shook hands with us, he started to go. But then he came back and said, "Brother Kenneth, I'll tell you something else. I also believed God to keep my teeth." And he opened his mouth and showed me he had every tooth in his head, and there was not a filling in one of them. They were all his own teeth at ninety years of age!

I'd never thought of that! I'd had one or two fillings, but after that, I never had any more! Now you understand that this is beyond just divine healing. But right on the other hand, the Bible says, "According to your faith be it unto you" (Matt. 9:29). Brother Smith believed God would do it according to His Word, and God did it. Brother Smith started to walk away the third time, and then he came back. He said, "Brother Kenneth, I'll tell you the secret of the whole thing. You already know it, but I'll tell you anyway." He said, "I asked God first of all to help me keep this — to help me keep my tongue," and he stuck his tongue out.

That is what I want you to see, and it has everything in the world to do with a person living a long life and staying healthy. You see, the Bible says, ". . . he that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they speak no guile" (1 Peter 3:10). When he said that, I remembered an incident that happened years before when I used to work for Brother Smith.

There was a fellow in our hometown who was a World War I veteran. He'd been gassed in the war, and if you know anything about what happened to some of those fellows, you know the after-effects were devastating. They would have spells from time to time, and they were affected mentally. After this fellow had gotten out of the war, he stayed in the hospital a lot. And when he got out, he took to drinking. He wasn't a Christian man, of course. If he'd been a Christian, he wouldn't have done some of the terrible things he did. But he began drinking, trying to escape from his physical condition because he'd been gassed in the war. And when he'd get drunk, he'd get mean. He'd just run people off the sidewalk and cut them with a knife. He cut two or three people up pretty severely, and they had to be put in the hospital.

McKinney was a small town of about eight or nine thousand people. And in McKinney, there wasn't anybody who could handle this drunk fellow except Ed Blakeman, the chief of police. All the rest of the policemen would just sort of run from this fellow, because if they didn't, they'd either have to shoot him or get cut themselves. But Ed Blakeman would always come and talk to him and put him in jail until he sobered up. Then he'd turn him loose. The whole town sympathized with the fellow because he was a veteran in that condition. They realized he wasn't altogether to blame. In fact, he was the finest, most splendid gentleman you ever saw until he would begin to feel bad physically and have those spells because of the war. Then he'd get drunk, and he'd get mean. One Saturday night he was in a cafe on the east side of the town square, and he was drinking. He pulled his knife on somebody. A policeman was nearby, and he ran out to call Mr. Blakeman. He said, " ____ is on a rampage again. You'd better get down here."

Mr. Blakeman got down there as fast as he could. Meanwhile the owner of the cafe had held the fellow off with a chair and finally pushed him out of the cafe and onto the crowded sidewalk. It was a Saturday night during the Depression Days, and the sidewalk was very crowded. Immediately, everybody got off the sidewalk because they knew this fellow. They knew he was just liable to cut up anybody he met. So Mr. Blakeman finally got there, and he met him right on the corner of the square in front of a variety store. He said to him, "Come on, _____ , we're going to jail. You're going to sleep this off." "No," he said, "I'm not going in this time, Ed." "Yes you are," Mr. Blakeman said.

And this fellow answered, "No, I'm going to cut your throat or you're going to kill me — one of the two." This World War I veteran had just gotten tired of his condition. And in his own mind, I guess he thought, Well, this is it. The man attacked Mr. Blakeman, and there wasn't anything he could do but pull his gun. So Mr. Blakeman shot him, and the fellow died as a result.
Everybody felt bad about it in a way. But then again, the whole town almost sighed a sigh of relief. After all, several people had nearly died from being cut up by this fellow. Yet no one had ever pressed charges against this man because they felt he just wasn't altogether himself. And when he'd go back into the hospital for a while, they'd think he was well enough to get out, and they'd let him out. When he was killed, everybody talked about it. Some people said, "Well, it's a good riddance. We hated for it to happen that way, but it's just a good riddance."

I remember I went on the job that day, and we were talking about it. And everybody was expressing his opinion about this fellow. But Brother Smith wouldn't say one evil thing about him. I remember hearing him say about the fellow, "Well, one thing about him, he did have pretty eyes." When Brother Smith said that, I thought, THAT FELLOW DID HAVE PRETTY EYES. So Brother Smith said something good about this man. He wouldn't say anything bad about him. And at ninety years of age, Brother Smith was just as strong as a younger man in every way because he had asked God to help him keep his tongue. I think some more of us could stand a little of that kind of preaching. "For he that will love life, and see good days, let him refrain his tongue from evil, and his lips that they speak no guile" (1 Peter 3:10). (Kenneth Hagin)