Working with God; or, The story of a twenty-five year pastorate in Baltimore

Preface

With some hesitation I have written this story of the twenty-five years of my ministry in Baltimore. In complying with this request of some friends, I have tried to tell of those things about which some have inquired, leaving many things untold. I have tried to hide myself as much as one could in telling his own story, but I have tried to tell it as though I were seated in a drawing room surrounded by a group of friends who wanted to know something of the problems of a preacher in a big Eastern city and how God helped him in the consummation of some of his ideals.

In the reading of the proof pages I would like to acknowledge my indebtedness to Finis S. Idleman, who read all the proof ; to H. C. Armstrong and C. S. Ehlers, who read parts of it; and to my secretaries for their assistance.

P. A.

Seminary House, Baltimore, Md.

G)ntents

PAGE INTEODUCTOET

I, The Minister and the Ministry 11

Part One

II. My First Years in Baltimore 23

III. The Formative Years 45

IV. The Formative Years (Continued) .... 65 V. The Christian Temple 85

VI. The Christian Temple (Continued) . , . 107

VII. The Branch Churches 123

VIII. The Orphanage Society 145

IX. Seminary House and the Girls ^ Club . . 161

Part Two

X. With Books and Periodicals 177

XI. Around the Court-House 197

XII. Amid Services and Ceremonies 211

XIII. Observing a Day for Rest and Worship . . 227

XIV. With Sacred Paintings and Painters . . . 243 XV. An Evening With the Jews 263

XVI. The Negro 's Cause 279

XVII. Christian Unity 297

XVIII. Christian Unity (Continued) 315

XIX. International Peace 333

XX. The Witness 355

Conclusion

XXI. Twenty-fifth ANNivBaisAEY Sermon .... 371

INTRODUCTORY

Have You a Castle?

Everybody should have a castle, built so high upon the mountain, peaks of the mind that the meaner self cannot climb to its heights, and so fortified that the approaches are guarded by white winged messengers from above.

There run occasionally for rest out of the toil and vexations of life, as well as for a calm look upon the entangled problems of the world, that you may find where to lose yourself for the good of others.

If you have not built such a castle, build it at once. Find the highest moimtain in your mind — one of those that reaches highest into the blue vault of thought — and fortify as you build.

If your place in life lies mostly with those minds that are low and marshy, whence arises the malaria of discontent, lust, suspicion and unlove, build your castle quickly and so protect your mountain passes that approaches to it will be impossible except to yourself and the angels that minister there.

Then you wiU be patient in the midst of the strife of the lower souls, you will do good to those who have wronged you, and your pity for aU shall lie like a beam of light upon every face into which you shall look. The needs of every one shall come before you like the pathetic cry of the helpless infant, and your castle life shall make you a brother to all mankind.

I

I used to hear my father say that if he had a dozen sons he would try to make them all ministers of the Gospel. In that atmosphere I came to believe that there is no service superior to that of the ministry when it is crowded with toil, hardship, faith and love. Such a ministry has in it those ideals that enrich the pages of the Scriptures and bears the marks of apostolicity beyond that which can be bestowed by councils or creeds. The romance of the ministry has always charmed me. I saw in it the best service that one could render to God and to his fellows because it is '^tJie ministry of reconciliation/^ reconciling the world to God — the most stupendous task that was ever given to mortal man.

It has its difficulties — great difficulties. The minister labors in the field of spiritual values, contending with his brothers against the works of the flesh, which are ^^fornication, uncleanness, lasciviousness, idolatry, sorcery, enmities, strife, jealousies, wraths, factions, divisions, parties, envyings, drunkenness, revellings, and such like;" at the same time contending with equal earnestness in cultivating the fruit of the Spirit, which is "love, joy, peace, long suffering, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, meekness, self-control.'* The transferring of the trend of one's life from the works of the flesh to the fruit of the Spirit is the only hope of the world. The only path to that highway of holiness is Jesus Christ, who said, *^I am tJie way, and the truth, and the life; no one cometh unto the Father, hut by Me.^^ The minister's task is to win men to Christ and then to teach them the art of cultivating the fruit of the Spirit. Against this there are rebellious dispositions, unconquered sins, unsatisfactory results, meagre financial remunerations and the burdens of the multitude. Nevertheless there is a blessedness in the privilege of standing in the midst of discord and strife, which cover the whole earth, and not only proclaim the friendliness of God, but carry pardon and peace into man's troubled heart.

It is the greatest transaction ever done between one soul and another, burnishing hope in the bosom of despondency, pouring sympathy into barren hearts, strengthening faith to nobler tasks in the world of strife and leaving the light of grace by the couch of the dying to meet the light of the eternal morning. The minister may roam through every field of thought and industry and, if he thinks and feels, his thoughts may become the very voice of infinite wisdom, consummating the amelioration of mankind. He combats evil with the genius of the living truth and, if needs be,

"He liurls his life against the pikes and dies,"

but his ministry, if he has ministered aright, is strong and sacred as he listens to God 's message in the prayerful reading of the Word and goes to the call of a suffering brotherhood, whose heart cannot be at ease until it has found the companionship of God. I do not believe that it is fanciful to say that angels hover over him as he goes, as they do over all who go on the mission of God. If we could hear as the shepherds heard on the hills of Judaea, the song would be

* ' Glory to God in the highest, And on earth peace among men in whom He is well pleased."

But the minister is only a man. He talks like a man, or he ought to ; he dresses like a man and walks like a man among men; he stands on a level with all mankind and with them looks up to God through Jesus Christ our Lord. A dozen hands of consecration upon his head will not add one whit to his holiness. He must find that in his transactions with God and in his companionship with his fellows. He makes his mistakes and sometimes egregious blunders; he contends in the arena with all the temptations common to man, and the fiercest contention is against the treachery of his own heart and will; he has his discouragements and sometimes his heart breaks down with his own burdens. After listening patiently through several long sittings to a conversation that had to do with a deep sorrow in the life of one of my flock, I was asked, "To whom do you go with your burdens?" If not in a direct manner such as this, the same interrogation has driven many a minister into the holy of holies until the transactions between his heart and that of the great Burden Bearer are as real as between personal friends in the quiet of a closet conference.

What a satisfaction to talk over problems of deep concern with one who is sympathetic and patient ! To this ministry the minister must ever give himself without reserve. He cannot repeat in one home what he hears in another, unless it be some conversation of secondary consequence. He is a member of each home and, as such, he is the guardian of as much of its inner life as comes to him. He is sometimes the custodian of griefs and burdens that only one heart besides his own knows and that is the heart that has made the trust. There he must know how to guide the stumbling feet of a wavering faith to the place of prayer for comfort and hope. It has been well said, * ' On no man are more bui'dens laid by troubled hearts than on a minister. He is constantly a man of comfort and courage. Men who wear a smooth face before other men show a furrowed one to him. Homes that show only happiness and peace before the world show him their closet with its skeleton. In sickness, the doctor is called, but so is the minister, and if death comes it is the minister who stays to make the after days bearable. In trouble, the lawyer is called, but so is the minister, and after the case is settled the minister remains to ease defeat or to steady in victory. Absent children, business anxiety, failing health or powers, intimate needs too sacred to share with other closest friends, are his familiar concerns. If he has gained from his people the confidence he ought to have, he is the chief burden bearer of the community. ' ' At scores of such places he must stand — and stand not in his strength but in that of the living God, ministering as best he can at the altar of human need.

On my first vacation from college, I preached one Sunday morning at the Baptist Church in the village of my Virginia home, I had just passed my twentieth year and I somewhat doubt that I should call what I said on that occasion by the dignified term of a sermon^ but the minister, who was advanced in years, was very friendly with my father during the latter 's lifetime. In consequence of this friendship, he showed me some courtesies that encouraged me in those days. None was more helpful than his presentation to me on the day after my sermon of a copy of ''An Earnest Ministry the Want of the Times," by John Angell James, published in 1850. This copy was its fourth edition. I read it through the next day, marking in the first chapter the following quotation: ''No ministry will be really effective, whatever may be its intelligence, which is not a ministry of strong faith, true spirituality and deep earnestness.'' Those elements forthwith became a challenge to me and at the same time they loomed up like great mountains in my pathway. I have been discouraged a thousand times in my dream to climb to their costly heights, but I have never been able to get away from the picture flung upon my mind by that sentence. It is indeed the way to an effective ministry, carrying with it all the cost that the best things demand. I have seen so many men lose God in sermon making, as the scientist loses Hiim in his search of nature, that from my earliest preaching I have sought to guard myself and made preparing my heart more important than preparing my mind.

The great wide fields of ripe harvests call for laborers — true, brave, industrious, clean-hearted men, who have caught the fire from the burning heart of infinite love, upon whose lips have been laid a live coal from God's altar and who live in the light of great distances. There are thousands of noble men in the pulpits of all communions, struggling with untold problems and struggling hopefully in the very face of defeat — men who have buried all hope of worldly ambition and fame, men who have made their closets sanctuaries of prayer, men who count not their lives dear unto them and men of whom the world is not worthy. I wish I had the liberty to tell some of their experiences in these pages, for their experiences would far exceed in interest and profit what I have set out to do as relates to the twenty-five years of my ministry in Baltimore. The joy of service has wiped away the tears of sorrow from their faces, the presence of God has sent a waveless peace over their souls, and the changeless light of the other world has struck the face of the man who is living for God.

The ministry has so combined the intellectual and the moral that we can go through no period of the history of the last two thousand years that does not bear some impression of the influence of the minister of the Gospel. The larger work has been done by the few; the smaller work has been left to the many. Canon Farrar said, ' ' Not to one man in ten thousand, barely, perhaps, to one man in a generation, it is granted to stand forth like a heavenly archer, and hurl into the dark heart arrows of lightnings; to wield, with no feeble hand, the Word of God as that which indeed it is — a sword to pierce, a flame to scathe, a hammer to dash in pieces the flinty heart :

'To preach as one who ne'er should preach again, And as a dying man to dying men.' "

A smaller life may be no less strong and, in a similar sense, no less great. Most of us are as the ' ' infinitesimal ripple made on an immeasurable ocean by the touch of an insect's wing," but that does not prevent our contribution, small as it may be, taking its place by the side of all those forces that have helped in the betterment of mankind. The presence of a minister of righteousness in every age has been like ' ' the dew of God falling upon the soul. ' ' Jewish history before Christ might appropriately be divided into Noachian and Mosaic periods — epochs made by the greatest ministers of Old Testament mention. See Elijah before Ahab, Daniel before Belshazzar, John before Herod, Paul before Agrippa, Ignatius before Trajan, Huss before Sigismund, Ambrose before Theodosius, Savonarola before Lorenzo de Medici, Luther before Charles and Knox before Mary! Then read history in the light of these ministers and it will not be difficult to find their places in the civilization of the world.

The seeds of American liberty were gathered on the other side of the Atlantic from events made sacred by some minister's voice. Behold Basil pleading before Emperor Valens for those oppressed by the civil power, or Chrysostom defending his fallen enemy Eutropius before the wrath of Arcadius and Eudoxia, or Calvin proclaiming the principles of representative government! The minister of the Gospel built the looms from which came the Stars and Stripes. To read the history of Germany from Boniface, the history of England from Augustine, or the history of America from Williams and Edwards is to find the footprints of the ministers of the Gospel in every epoch of these histories.

The minister 's power lies in his oneness with God, as the Apostle Peter said of the ministers in his day, ^'TJiey preached tJie Gospel unto you hy tTie Holy Spirit sent fortJi from Jieaven.^' ''The true minister," said A. J. Gordon, ''does not simply use the Spirit; he is used by the Spirit. He speaks as one moving in the element and atmosphere of the Holy Spirit and mastered by His Divine power." Paul said, *'My speech and my preaching were not in persuasive words of wisdom, hut in demonstration of the Spirit and of power." Again Dr. Gordon said, "Our generation is rapidly losing its grip upon the supernatural ; and as a consequence the pulpit is rapidly dropping to the level of the platform. This decline is due, we believe, more than anything else, to an ignoring of the Holy Spirit as the supreme inspirer of preaching. We want to see a great orator in the pulpit, forgetting that the least expounder of the Word, when filled with the Holy Spirit, is greater than he. We want the Gospel, forsooth ; but in the strenuous demand that it be set forth according to 'the spirit of the age,' we ignore the supremacy of 'the Spirit of God.' " Since the day of Pentecost, we have been under the administration of the Holy Spirit. "To him in the Divine economy," said Henry Edward Manning, "has been committed the office of applying the redemption of the Son to the souls of men by the vocation, justification and salvation of the elect. We are, therefore, under the personal guidance of the Third Person, as truly as the apostles were under the guidance of the Second." It is a marvelous programme, which God has launched for the redemption of the lost world and in its performance, Isaiah, speaking of Christ, declared, ^'He will not fail nor he discouraged.'' The minister and his ministry may not always be that factor in its consummation as designed by God when He committed this to men, but there are multitudes of ministers whose ministries are shadows of Divine holiness. Both of these and to these I say in the words of Whittier:

'Priest of God, thy mission is But to make earth's desert glad, In its Eden greenness clad!

'And to level manhood bring Lord and peasant, serf and king, And the Cross of Christ to find In the humblest of thy kind!

' Thine to work as well as pray.

Clearing thorny wrongs away; Plucking up the weeds of sin, Letting heaven's warm sunshine in.

' Watching on the hills of faith.

Listening what the Spirit saith.

Of the dim seen light afar.

Growing like a nearing star.

'God's interpreter art thou To the waiting ones below; 'Twixt them and its light midway.

Heralding the better day.

'' Catching gleams of temple spires, Hearing notes of angel choirs, Where, as yet unseen of them, Comes the New Jerusalem!

' ' Like the seer of Patmos gazing, On the glory downward blazing; Till upon earth's grateful sod, Rests the city of our God. ' '

Part One

Thou hast again lighted the hours of time, and it is another day, with its cares, irritations and opportunities. Make us to live in sympathy — Thyself and me — that I may follow Thee in the downward steps of self-denial and may know the nearness of Thyself and the beauty of myself forgotten in my thoughts of Thee and those about me. Give to me health of soul, clearness of vision and strength of mind that I may be calm amid vexations, hopeful amid discouragements and faithful however faithless others may be. Help me that I may see the open door although other doors may be closed, that I may never forget the path to the unfailing fountain and that I may practice Thy presence in order to be used by Thee through the day and to go to my bed undishonored by sin when my body is weary with sleep. Teach me forgiveness, contentment and peace and we shall not have walked the way in vain, for Thou still art God and I a sinner saved by grace. Amen.

— From God and Me.

II

' ' Surely you are not so foolish as to think of going to Baltimore — that great Roman Catholic city with its Eastern conservatism — and bury yourself with an obscure and struggling church, when there are other fields inviting you which are more promising and remunerative?" So inquired my friends in the summer of 1891 when it became known among them that I was thinking of accepting an invitation to the ministry of the Third Church in Baltimore.

The church had a membership of less than a hundred. It was self-supporting as it had been from the start, when three years before a division arose in the Harlem Avenue Church. Thirty-three persons withdrew and formed an independent congregation, employing a minister immediately on their organization — first James Vernon, then Thomas Munnell, both well known and highly esteemed. For two years they met in a hall. Then a Lutheran gentleman, whose wife was a member of the church, purchased for them a building site and they forthwith erected the church edifice. It was a daring venture. They appealed to the state and national missionary boards of the Disciples for assistance, but for some reason their application was rejected by both boards. Perhaps the boards did not have the money or they

24 WORKING VaTB. GOD

may not have considered it a promising field. However the rejection had so incensed the Third Church that they had never taken an offering for missions of any kind. Their building was heavily in debt, its mortgage being very nearly the full value of the property. The people were in moderate circumstances, many, however, possessing fine, stalwart characters that are usually more valuable assets in the affairs of a church than money. I did not know what salary they had been paying their minister. In fact the subject of salary had not been mentioned. The audiences were small and internal troubles somewhat marred the unity of the little flock. I was not particularly anxious to go, but somehow I felt that hard places are where men are needed and that it was God's will for me to go.

I was twenty-four years old and not very strong physically, but I carried in my bosom a definite and costly programme of church work, which I had gotten from reading the Scriptures and missionary literature. A finished church did not appeal to me. I had no desire for a made pulpit, however elegant and remunerative it might be. I wanted to make my own pulpit irrespective of its cost. I thought I saw in the Third Church an opportunity if I would be willing to pay the price, remembering that it had been said, '^God cJwse tlie weak things of tJie world, tliat He miglit put to sliame tJie tilings tliat are strong; and the base things of the world, and the things that are despised, did God choose, yea, and the things that are not, that He might hring to nought the things that are; tliat no flesh should glory before God." I faced the task squarely and looked through the years, feeling assured that if I accomplished anything in Baltimore, certainly the glory would belong to God and the satisfaction of having been His servant would be mine.

Several influences contributed to my decision. While a student in the College of the Bible, associated with Transylvania College, Lexington, Kentucky, I became deeply concerned about offering myself as a foreign missionary. One morning as three of us walked down the corridor at the close of the senior English class, we decided to approach the President on the subject. I was twenty-two. The other students were ten years my senior and were strong, robust men. The President was a college mate of my father in Bethany College and he had shown some interest in me. He approved of the others, but he advised against my making a decision at that time because of my youth and uncertain health. I yielded to his superior judgment, but my purpose remained unchanged and I decided then to put my life into an American field that would be as difficult as one in a foreign land. I could not think of undertaking an easy ministry for Christ.

Another consideration was my mother. My father died during my first year in college, when I was nineteen, leaving my mother and sister on a farm near the Rappahannock River in Virginia. A white man lived on the farm with his family and cultivated it, but the isolation and loneliness of my mother and sister, especially in the long winter months, had been a constant care to me and I wished to be near them, or have them with me, as I afterwards did. Boats plied

26 WORKING VnTB. GOD

nearly every day between Baltimore and the Rappahannock River, making Baltimore the most convenient city to my home. My mother, however, left me to decide whether I should go to Baltimore.

And still another consideration was Johns Hopkins University. Because of broken health I had left college without completing my course of study. I was confined to my bed for more than a month preceding the final examinations of the third year. Against the President's protest, I appeared in the class rooms on the day of the examinations, took them all and left that night for Virginia. For months I was quite an invalid. When I sufficiently improved I went to Newport News, Virginia, preaching temporarily for the church there and at the same time having the advantage of being under the care of a well-known physician who resided there. Baltimore appeared to furnish just the educational opportunity I desired and it was 80 emphasized by the Third Church as a special inducement, but before the year was out I saw that it was unfair to a city church, however small it might be, to attempt to be its minister and at the same time to take regular university work. When the university authorities observed the growth of the Third Church, I was strongly advised that if it were my purpose to remain in the ministry, I should abandon the regular and technical university work, keeping in touch, however, with the university in its courses of special lectures and give all of my time to the church. Although conforming to this advice, at first I did not like it, but before many years had passed, I saw the wisdom of it. Such were the considerations and some of the results that caused me to go to Baltimore.

On the first Sunday in October, 1891, I preached my first sermon there as minister. I made it a kind of installation utterance, although it was not an installation service, but with some timidity I sought to emphasize that a local church had not attained its rightful place except it expressed its life through the channels of missions, education and benevolences, thereby creating character, which is the chief purpose of the church. The sermon did not appear to make much impression on the audience, for many of them felt that those ideals were expressed in loyalty to their local church, which is a common understanding of churches in this day that have not comprehended the purpose of their existence. Perhaps it was improper to preach such a sermon on such an occasion. It at least struck a note that found a response in my own heart and I was the preacher. To my own heart I must be true. The delivery of the sermon, however, was so unsatisfactory to me that a few days after I destroyed the notes.

That afternoon the official board met and it was decided that my salary should be eight hundred dollars, which was six hundred dollars less than they had paid their first minister and four hundred less than they had paid their last minister, as they explained, but that was neither here nor there, for from the condition of their finances it looked exceedingly doubtful whether they would be able to pay that. At the end of the year, however, they increased it to twelve hundred dollars, where it remained for some years, but it was paid so irregularly, and sometimes not at all, that stating a specified amount made very little difference. They had already fought off several lawsuits and their mortgage was in a building association with weekly payments — the most expensive kind of debt to carry. It was announced in the board meeting that a small debt was pressing them and I suggested that we raise the money right there in the board, for there was no money in the treasury, at the same time handing my contribution of five dollars to the treasurer. I was forthwith informed that the ladies would raise the money in a few days by a bazaar or oyster supper, bringing tc my attention another issue that I would have to meet at the proper time, for oyster suppers, fairs, musical and literary entertainments have always been degenerating methods by which Christians raise money for the Lord's work. That evening a larger audience was present than in the morning and a man came forward to renew his covenant with Christ, taking membership with the church. So closed the first Sunday of my ministry at the Third Church, presenting problems that appeared to be beyond my reach for solution, but I was only a workman, promising to labor together with God.

Baltimore is one of the most densely populated cities in America for the area covered, exceeded only by New York and Chicago. I believed that I was the bearer of the Gospel message and I did not propose to deliver my messages to empty pews, when my church was located in such a densely populated city. I wrote off the copy for a handbill. This was printed and a large package of them was sent to the church.

In the midst of the discussion as to how they should be distributed so as to conform to the Baltimore custom of church advertising, I told the committee that I would distribute them myself. They looked surprised at what they regarded as an undignified service for a minister. But I went out one afternoon, tying those handbills on telephone poles and everywhere else where they should not have been placed. Soon a policeman came hurriedly down the street, forbidding my advertising in that fashion. Our conversation brought together a crowd of boys eager to know what was the issue. To them I gave several thousand handbills for distribution. Sunday the church was full and it stayed so. For years after, during the winter months, the Southwestern Police Station appointed this same policeman to the Third Church every Sunday evening to prevent overcrowding, the building, however, accommodating only about three hundred and fifty persons.