Charles Dennis Jones, a husky man, was actually about six feet tall but those who saw the incident I’m about to describe say he was a giant.

A truck had run off the road and crashed into a tree with enormous impact. The engine was forced back into the cab and the driver’s body was twisted under the roof. His feet were caught between the clutch and brake pedals. The doors were crushed and bent out of shape. Wreckers were called and a supreme effort was made to open the cab and free the driver. However, the wreckage was such that despite the best efforts of skilled men, they could not attach hooks to the doors or roof, so the wrecker could not be used. To make matters worse, a fire had started in the cab. Concern turned to panic because it was obvious that before the fire engines could arrive, the driver would be burned to death. 

Although the situation looked hopeless, Charles Dennis Jones decided to see what he could do. Bracing himself against the door, he started to pull. Slowly, grudgingly, the door began to give way. The force of Jones’ effort was so great that the muscles in his arm expanded until they literally burst the sleeves of his shirt. Finally, the door was open. Jones reached inside and barehandedly bent the brake and clutch pedals out of the way. He freed the man’s legs, snuffed out the fire with his hands, and crawled inside the cab with the badly injured driver. Bracing himself in a crouching position with his feet on the floor and his back against the top of the cab, he lifted the roof by his enormous strength. This freed the driver and spectators were able to pull him to safety. Then Jones quietly and quickly disappeared. 

Later, when he was found, someone asked him why and how he was able to accomplish such a herculean feat. His reply was a very simple one. He merely said, “I hate fire.” 

He had a reason. A few months earlier he had been forced to stand by and watch helplessly while his small daughter burned to death.
What if we Apostolics truly hated sin?