I Can'T Repent

We live in a day, friend, where the church tells you that you can go to heaven without ever repenting of your sins. The only belief gospel has damned its millions through the years, and many have swallowed that heresy, hook, line, and sinker, and they are sunk, sunk in their sins, and sunk in hell. Listen to me, friend.

The pastor or evangelist who tells you that you can get to heaven without turning from your sins is nothing more than a liar. He's on his way to hell himself, and in need of repentance himself. This watered-down version of the gospel that is fed to folks today won't cut the mustard in heaven, and it won't keep you out of hell either, friend.

The true gospel declares man's duty of repentance. Listen to me, friend. If you don't repent, you will surely go to hell.

I didn't say that. Jesus did. In Luke's gospel, in chapter 13 and verse 3, Jesus declares, I tell you, nay, but except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish.

John the Baptist came preaching the absolute necessity to repent to get to the kingdom of heaven, and the very first sermon Jesus preached, friends, is found in Matthew 4.17, which states, From that time Jesus began to preach, and to say, Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand. And the very last words Jesus had to say to his churches were, Repent. Repentance is a necessary condition for salvation, friend, and I don't care how many egg-headed seminary professors tell you otherwise, you better believe that hell is full of unconverted seminary professors, some pretty big names too.

The book of Acts warns its readers of the necessity to repent to be saved. When the apostle Paul was preaching to the men of Athens, he included the need for repentance as a condition of true salvation. This is seen in Acts chapter 17 and verse 30, which reads, And the times of this ignorance God winked at, but now commandeth all men everywhere to repent.

And in Acts 26, 19, and 20, the apostle Paul is laying out his entire preaching ministry and its primary message as he stands before King Agrippa, and he tells him the need for repentance, Whereupon, O King Agrippa, I was not disobedient unto the heavenly vision, but showed first unto them of Damascus, and at Jerusalem, and throughout all the coasts of Judea, and then to the Gentiles, that they should repent, and turn to God, and do the works meet for repentance. And we see in the book of Acts, friends, that repentance is a grace given from God. The apostle Peter declares this in Acts 5, 30, and 31, The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, whom ye slew, and hanged on a tree.

Him hath God exalted with his right hand to be a prince and a savior, for to give repentance to Israel, and forgiveness of sins. The absolute necessity of man's duty of repentance cannot be ignored. I'd like to read us a story, friends, before we go to our time of prayer.

And in this story, our subject is repentance. I found this story when I was writing my biography on the evangelist, Rolf Barnard, and I've never forgotten it since I came across it. Rolf Barnard was used of God to bring over 100,000 people to Christ during his 40 year preaching itinerary.

God really used that man. But this story, as I read it to you, you'll probably do what it did to me. It sent chills down my back.

It's taken from a sermon message of Rolf Barnard entitled, I Remember Dixie, and it relates to our sermon message right now, friends, on I Can't Repent. Listen now to this startling story from a true account in the life and ministry of evangelist Rolf Barnard. In my early ministry, a little over 31 years ago, I went to the world's largest oil town that just sprung up in a cow pasture.

In a little while, there were 50,000 people there crawling over one another's backs to see who could get to hell the quickest. I was the only preacher there for 16 months, and I watched men die for 16 months. I preached, on average, three funerals a day.

I preached as many as seven funerals in one day. I was just a boy, 23 years old, and I lived with death. I lived in the county hospital where the old folks would be sent, you know, and they were to rot and die, and when they were dying, they would call for the preacher.

I lived in the houses of ill fame and the saloons where men would get shot and poor women would get shot or die of disease, and just before they died, they'd call for the preacher, and there they would look in my face and beg me not to let them go to hell. They would want me to pray for them, but it would be too late to pray for them then. I remember Dixie.

Dixie was the queen of the dance hall girls in my oil field town. When she came to die, she was just 23 years old. She'd already been married seven times and was now living, of course, in sin with an eighth man.

I remember when Dixie sent somebody to me and said she wanted the preacher to tie the knot that she was going to get married again. I sent word back that I would not marry her. She got so mad, she came to see me and said, it's some note when a girl wants to be decent and the preacher won't tie the knot.

I said, Dixie, you can go get somebody else to tie the knot, but I don't want to have anything to do with it. I said, you can't get married in the sight of God. I remember when Dixie called for me later.

She'd been on the dance floor, and she was dancing with some man, and another fella came and tried to take her out of the arms of the other man. They got to a scuffle, and somebody pulled the trigger, and instead of shooting the man, the bullet went into the vitals of Dixie. They carried her into her bedroom there.

There was no use to take her to the hospital. They summoned the doctor and the nurse, and in a little while, my phone rang, and someone said, preacher, Dixie is dying, and she is calling for you. I went.

When I went, the doctor was gone, and the nurse was there. She said, preacher, you can come in now. We've done all we can.

There's no hope for Dixie. I went over and sat by the bed. I said, Dixie, this is the preacher, and you sent for me.

What do you want, Dixie? Oh, she said, preacher, don't let me go to hell. I said, Dixie, I wish I could keep you out of hell, but I can't keep you out of hell. She said, preacher, won't you pray for me? I said, Dixie, I'm afraid it's too late to pray now.

God never has saved anybody unless they were brought to repent and to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ. And so she said, well, preacher, how do you do that? And the best I could, I sat by her bedside in that late midnight hour when I could almost see death in her face. I preached unto her the law and the gospel, and when I finished, Dixie turned.

I don't know how she had strength enough to do it, but she faced the wall with her back and turned toward me, and great racking sobs filled the room. I thought they would tear her body in pieces. Great racking sobs came from Dixie's throat.

In a little while, she turned back and looked into my face, and I saw hell, brother. I saw hell. Oh, I saw hell.

And as I demanded that she repent right then and there, Dixie said, I can't. If I were to be healed, I'd go back to my way of life. Then Dixie screamed.

She screamed out of that croaking voice, preacher, I can't repent. I can't repent. And God help me.

She died as she said that last, I can't repent. I carry the memory of Dixie's beautiful face around with me, and sometimes, please, God, I wake up in the night and I hear that croaking voice, preacher, I can't repent. I can't repent.

The last words that girl ever said here on this earth before her body began to rot and her spirit went back into the hands of God who gave it, the last words she ever said, I can't repent. I can't repent. Oh, dear friends, as we take this time now to go to our time of prayer, let this solemn story by Ralph Barnard stir us to pray with fervency for the lost around us who are in desperate need of repentance.

How can they repent? Unless they hear the true gospel message undiluted and unperverted. Let this be a reminder to each of us as we witness through the week to warn men and women and boys and girls of their great duty to repent and to turn to God. Let us pray.