The Vision of the Pentecostal Kitten
William Branham relates a vision he had of a "Pentecostal kitten'. When petted the animal against the fur, it would spit and become extremely upset:
- As long as you rake his fur this way, all right; but now if you want to see what he’s made out of, rake his fur backwards. See? So when I raked his fur back, them eyes stuck out, green, and he was a monster standing there spitting at me as hard as he could. See, just rake his fur back a little bit.[1]
Is this vision a better description today of message followers (and ministers in particular), than it is of Pentecostals? That has certainly been my experience. And it is relatively easy to test.
Find a Pentecostal pastor and ask him a question that goes to the center of his beliefs, such as - "I don't believe that speaking in tongues is the initial evidence of the Holy Spirit. Why do you think it is?" And then find a message pastor and ask him a question similar to the following - "Why do you follow William Branham if the municipal bridge vision failed?"
Compare the response and let us know what you find out.
If you talk to anyone who has questioned the message or worse, left the message, they will tell you stories of the terrible reaction they have received from message followers. Are the Pentecostals the monster or is it those in the message?
Quotes of William Branham
- I remember, at Tulsa, Oklahoma, I was…Oh, I was getting in a awful mess there, them denominations begin swinging around there. And I was setting in this building one day and I seen a—a vision. I seen a—a little…pretty, little ol’ kitten, and he was laying on a silk pillow, and he was the cutest little fellow. And I walked over there (and I’m afraid of a cat), and I went over and I begin to rake him, and he was going, “purr, purr.” You know how they do that funny noise, you know.
- And I was raking him, I said, “Pretty, little kitty.” And he said, “purr,” just as fine, you know. And I looked over behind his pillow, it said, “Pentecostal kitten.” Well, I thought, “Now, isn’t that strange.” And I said, “This has got to be a vision.”
- And Something said, “As long as you rake his fur this way, all right; but now if you want to see what he’s made out of, rake his fur backwards.” See? So when I raked his fur back, them eyes stuck out, green, and he was a monster standing there spitting at me as hard as he could. See, just rake his fur back a little bit. Tell him his baptism in the “Father, Son, and Holy Ghost” is of the devil and of the Catholic church, watch what happens to him. See? His furs get up.
- I come down, said to Brother Gene and them, down in…oh, Brother Leo and them, I said, “I sure had a real vision of Pentecostal denominations in this.”[2]
- If Jesus would have said, “I’m not sent to you Anglicans. I’m not sent to you Pentecostals. Your bunch… You’re Assembly of God, you Church of God, you… whatever you are. I wasn’t sent to you. You’re nothing but a bunch of dogs.” Oh, my. I’d have seen that disappointed look and saying, “Well, I won’t have nothing to do with Him at all. Wasn’t right to begin with. I’ll just go back over to my own church.” But not her. She had faith. She wasn’t a hotbed plant, a hybrid, like some of them today that call themselves believers—can’t set still a minute to the Gospel. That’s what we got today, a bunch of hotbed plants. You have to baby them all the time, keep them sprayed, the bugs off of them. That’s right. Baby them like a kitten, rubbing his fur one way, he will purr; but rub it back once, and it shows what’s in him. That’s right. That certainly is true.[3]
Footnotes