Radical Renewal 31: My Testimony Part 3
When my dad led the United Auto Workers he was only 36 years old and extremely unsophisticated as well as backslidden. I’ve often said that Christians only come in three categories – faithful, semi-faithful and prodigal. At the time Dad rose to prominence he was in the latter category. Some of it wasn’t his fault, however. In fact, there was a general backsliding in many churches, where Christ was preached without discipleship. The result was defeated Christians. Of course, it takes mature Christian leaders to produce mature Christians and many of the leaders in our churches were backslidden themselves. As a result, people made excuses for their sins. In my family we talked about “the Martin temper” as if it was simply an expected thing. All Martins had it, therefore it was normal and not sinful.
Baloney! Every human being has a temper, but not everyone is controlled by it. Christians are supposed to mature and grow out of explosions of temper and other sinful behaviors (however, even faithful Christians sin, they’re just not controlled by it. But a backslider is trapped in Christian babyhood and his sins are in charge. That means he’s left with his natural and learned personality to deal with life. That’s why you’ll find backsliders who seem to be perfectly well adjusted while others are a mess. In Dad’s case, he came from a background where people were poor. They had little money and few possessions. As a result of that background, his backsliding and his natural personality, when he achieved fame he didn’t know how to handle it. And when he got money he blew it.
In 1940 he married my mother, Vivian Fox. She was a very talented and level-headed person. As his secretary in the Union, she took all of his speeches in shorthand (and he talked fast). She could type over a hundred words a minute on the old manual typewriters. She was also thrifty and practical. Unfortunately, Dad would never listen to her. While he worked for the company supplying Ford’s accessories, Dad was often flying down to Mexico, where he’d bought into some tin mines owned by hustlers who were getting riches out of Dad’s pockets, not the ground. And Dad was foolishly generous as well. If someone needed a handout, he was there to supply it. He also drove a Lincoln Zephyr automobile, and after living in Detroit for a couple of years in a house that was completely paid for, he and Mom bought a farm in the country with a house that needed some fixing up. Fortunately for them, they apparently paid cash for the farm.
But disaster gathered like a storm cloud over their lives. Henry Ford died, and his grandson Henry Ford II took over the Ford Motor Company. Henry II had an axe to grind. His father, Edsel Ford, had failed to fulfill the original Henry’s ambitions for him and never became the leader of the company. Old Henry, in striving to force Edsel to become what he wanted him to be, humiliated him over and over, which some believe may have shortened his life. Henry II was very angry at his grandfather over that, and when the old man died, he came into power with a vengeance – literally. Overnight, old Henry’s friends and supporters found themselves banned and blacklisted, unable to find work with any company that did business with Ford. My dad lost his cushy job and, because he never had any wisdom with money, also found himself broke. The farm remained in a permanent state of disrepair, with the foundation of a new wing built on the back of the house and nothing else.
In 1944, Dad and Mom’s responsibilities increased with the birth of my brother, Steve. I came along in 1948. Steve spent his first years in Detroit, while I never knew anything but the farm. Well, part of a farm, because our barn burned down in 1949, taking most of the farm machinery with it. So we were left with 317 acres and no way to farm them. I don’t know this, but I believe that Dad and Mom tried to compensate at first by leasing out part of our acreage, but when that wasn’t enough, they were forced to sell off our farm bit by bit.
In the meantime, Dad tried to return to the Lord, but had no idea how. In the 1950′s there were people who still believed he was a faithful Christian, so he was invited to preach crusades in Paul Rader’s church in Minneapolis/St. Paul. One summer, Dad even filled in as interim pastor at a small church nearby. He was a disaster as a pastor. Sunday after Sunday I was required to sit at the front of the church where Dad, who shouted, often sprayed me with saliva as he attempted to minister. I felt sorry for him as he tried over and over to convert a bunch of Christians who didn’t need converting. But that kind of preaching was all he knew, and when he was younger and apparently walking with the Lord, he had been extremely effective with it. My sister Idanell once told me that if Dad “had kept the faith” he would have been another Billy Graham. I don’t know about that, but Dad certainly could have been greatly used by the Lord. But Dad didn’t stay faithful, and the consequences of his unfaithfulness piled up, higher and higher.




August 30, 2011
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Posted by Doug Martin
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