Tales From The Temple by James T. Spurgeon PAGE 4

classes three days a week. One of the classes we took at the same time was "Pentateuch". This course was taught by Travis Smith.

Travis Smith had graduated from a similar, but larger school up north. He had migrated to Texas to be a part of that great soul-winning church and to put his family under the ministry of the man of God there. He was the college's Old Testament specialist, teaching most of the OT classes.

Truth be told, Travis Smith was clueless when it came to the OT and the Bible in general. His classes were very boring. Besides stories of what happened on bus ministry the weekend before, and daily diatribes to not be a quitter, there wasn't much to be gleaned from his classes. He certainly didn't teach any Bible. When he wasn't off on one of the aforementioned tangents, he was expounding one of his insane theories about some obscure text in some remote corner of one of the minor prophets or something.

Anyway, back to that "Pentateuch" class that my dad and I were both attending. There were about fifteen of us in there, all young people except my dad who was early forties at the time. In between trying to figure out what was going to be on the test, trying to figure out what we were supposed to take down as "notes", trying to stay awake, and trying to figure out what the bus ministry had to do with the Pentateuch, we were treated one day to Travis' theory on the type of fruit that Adam and Eve partook of in the Garden.

Travis explained that he believed that the fruit Adam and Eve ate that day was a grape. He went on and on developing this theory. He explained that grapes in the Bible represented God's wrath and that Adam and Eve suffered God's wrath as a result of eating the grape and so forth and so on. While I was sitting there wondering if this was going to be something I needed to remember for a test or not, my dad raised his hand.

Now you have to remember that leadership was not to be questioned on anything. Any sort of question might be construed as an attempt to place doubt on the man of God in front of us and undermine his authority. We had even seen someone "dressed-down" in chapel for daring to ask questions in a class, questions that were considered argumentative. After all, who were we? We were just a bunch of pinheads who needed to listen and learn, not ask questions. When we had proven ourselves, and been placed in a position of authority for ourselves, then we could express opinions. Until then, we did not have the maturity to question those whom God had placed over us.

So when my dad's hand went up during the middle of this exposition on the doctrines of grapes, it got everyone's attention. There was a hush that could be felt more than heard. Travis paused. For a moment it looked as if he were trying to decide whether or not to ignore the hand or give my dad permission to speak.

Finally, he said, "Yes, Bro. Spurgeon?"

In a kind way and with a meek spirit my dad said, "Grapes don't grow on trees."

I can only imagine what passed through Travis Smith's mind as he saw his carefully-developed, carefully-expounded pet theory go up in smoke before his very eyes. It was crash and burn baby and everyone knew it. His face turned red. There was momentary, muffled laughter that quickly gave way to a spontaneous fit of coughing from the rest of us. Travis mumbled a couple of things and quickly excused that apparent discrepancy before changing subjects.

But the deed was done. The grape theory had been forever thrown onto the trash heap of Travis Smith-ology, never to be resurrected.

My dad was a cult-hero for several months after that.

Travis Smith is still a member of the Longview Baptist Temple. He no longer teaches at the college. He went to a local junior college and got a nursing degree of some