(To my international audience, the following article is written in an approximation at a Southern U.S. dialect. If some of the words don’t translate well, contact me at firstname.lastname@example.org and I will try to provide it in standard American English. And in case somebody wants to get upset again, this is not intended to be “Black” Southern or “White” Southern; it’s “Stereotypical” Southern.)
There was a man what lived in a cabin in the woods. He kept a pack of hunting dogs, because hunting was his livelihood. One day a visitor remarked that he had no lock on the door. The old hunter replied, “Look around. What’s to steal in here, but my hunting rifle? B’sides, I don’t need no locks. Y’see that old hound lyin’ out in the sun? Ev’ry night the last thing I do is check on my dogs. Then that ole hound follers me up on the porch and lies down front of the door. So, anybody wants to get in the house, he’s gotta go ‘crost that old hound. And every morning he’s there waiting for me, just lyin’ on my doorstep.”
God once talked about an ole hound like that. Seems as how God musta told them first boys, Cain and Abel, how he spected them to sacrifice to him. Don’t know just what he said, but he had to have told them what he wanted, ‘cuz when them boys brung their offerings God liked what Abel brought, but rejected Cain’s offering. Some folks’ll debate as how it was because Abel brought critters and Cain brought crops. I’m a thinkin’ it had some’n to do with attitude.
Anyways, soon as Cain saw that God had rejected his offering, his jaw dropped to the ground. Musta turned white with anger, too.
God asked him, “Whatcha so riled up fer? And why is your jaw on the floor?” (Here’s where he talks about that hound dog.) “If you do right, I’ll accept it. But if you do wrong, sin is lyin’ acrost the door, jest waitin’ for you to try and step over it. He’ll eat you up. You gotta be it’s master, though.”
Now that young ‘un, he didn’t listen to God. He tried stepping acrost that ole hound of sin, and it bit him. He talked to his brother. “Let’s not worry ‘bout that sacrifice thing. C’mon. I got somethin’ to show you out in my fields.” Abel went with him, and soon as they was outa view of anybody else, Cain up and killt him.
Now that made God mad, ‘cause he had warned Cain. Had to punish him, so he banished him.
What God told Cain about sin, well that applies to us today. Sin is still an ole hound dog, lyin’ at the door, just waitin’ for us to open it and try to step over. When sin bites you, you know you been bit. ‘Taint nothin’ you can do ‘bout it, neither. God’s gonna come and do to you what he did to Cain. You got bit by sin; you done been banished from heaven.
Good news is, we don’t haveta stay banished. God loves us, like he loved Cain. He didn’t wanna do what he had to do to Cain. And he don’t wanna do what he has to do with us. No, he thunk, and he planned, and he said, “I’m gonna send someone to take their punishment.” And that’s jest what he did. He sent Jesus, his only son, to be a man. Now Jesus, he mastered that ole hound. He didn’t sin, but he took our punishment anyways. God says, “You been bit by sin. Come to me and I’ll bind up them wounds. I’ll forgive you, and I’ll keep on doing it. But you still gotta try and master that ole hound dog.”