I always want to apologize to our radio hosts about my failure to listen to them. I have trouble with understanding these days, which makes it worse, but the fact of the matter is that when I fly a thousand miles to a convention about the only speech I hear is my own.

I spent tens of years listening to speeches, writing speeches, making speeches. Now when I sit down to a speech I feel trapped.

My grandfather was circuit rider, and his motto was, “The brain can only absorb what the seat can bear.” Given the benches in those old churches, that was a limited period. But, believe it or not, the usual complaint was that the sermon was too SHORT! My grandfather could have to do five sermons on one day and ride his horse between them on something less than Interstate Highways and each sermon was the same.

Most of us feel that the shorter the sermon the better. In my tiny Methodist Church in Dentsville the clock was over the entrance, where anyone in the congregation had to turn around completely to see it. It was, however, directly facing the preacher.

Even in those days there were wrist watches, so the parson didn’t NEED to be facing the clock during his talk, but the congregation seemed to think it was good thing to do.

In the Puritan churches sermons would routinely go on for three or four hours and a couple of guys patrolled the aisles with long sticks in their hands to bop anybody who nodded off towards sleep. When I heard about that in school — history never mentioned anything BUT Puritan churches back then — it struck me as perfectly natural.

I thought everybody had always squirmed until the preacher wound down.

I was astonished to learn that in previous generations there was what was called “A Hunger for Sermons.”

LONG sermons. They lasted for hours. People would buggy from twenty miles away to hear a preacher — not a famous preacher — to sample his wares.

In our day, food, housing and clothing are major expenses, but entertainment costs very little compared to these giant budget items. Not so long ago you either did your own singing and dancing or you went a LONG way or paid good deal of money. If a preacher was in town you could listen to him or sit with your family or out on the porch.

It is easy to think of a person with a large beautiful home in England sitting on his porch as a beautiful scene. But we never thin of them as sitting there for DAYS.

I remember in the 50s sitting and watching the test pattern on TV, waiting for the time that seemed like hours before programming would begin. At the same time in Europe you would only have one radio station on your dial.

The picture presented by these old man’s wanderings is, if you SEE it, of critical importance. We look at the causes of yesterday and see that they Carried the Message. If you got out to them, people would come. There was competition, so you had to be sure not to conflict with the only other thing in town that week, but the big thing was Carrying the Message.

How totally different the whole business of Carrying the Message has become! Now Beulah, Mississippi is at least as reachable as Manhattan.

It used to be Take It to the Streets. That was when people would be on the porch FACING the streets.

Porches are empty now, not because of TV, which can be watched on the porch, but because of air conditioning. If you are going to march, you had better choose a cool, dry day to do it if you want it to be noticed. And even then you’ll want it on the TV.

Communication isn’t different now. It is a completely different THING.