HE had
planned when he came to the city to return to Raymond and be
in his own pulpit on Sunday. But Friday morning he had
received at the Settlement a call from the pastor of one of
the largest churches in Chicago, and had been invited to
fill the pulpit for both morning and evening service.
At first he
hesitated, but finally accepted, seeing in it the hand of
the Spirit's guiding power. He would test his own question.
He would prove the truth or falsity of the charge made
against the church at the Settlement meeting. How far would
it go in its self-denial for Jesus' sake? How closely would
it walk in His steps? Was the church willing to suffer for
its Master?
Saturday
night he spent in prayer, nearly the whole night. There had
never been so great a wrestling in his soul, not even during
his strongest experiences in Raymond. He had in fact entered
upon another new experience. The definition of his own
discipleship was receiving an added test at this time, and
he was being led into a larger truth of the Lord.
Sunday
morning the great church was filled to its utmost. Henry
Maxwell, coming into the pulpit from that all- night vigil,
felt the pressure of a great curiosity on the part of the
people. They had heard of the Raymond movement, as all the
churches had, and the recent action of Dr. Bruce had added
to the general interest in the pledge. With this curiosity
was something deeper, more serious. Mr. Maxwell felt that
also. And in the knowledge that the Spirit's presence was
his living strength, he brought his message and gave it to
that church that day.
He had never
been what would be called a great preacher. He had not the
force nor the quality that makes remarkable preachers. But
ever since he had promised to do as Jesus would do, he had
grown in a certain quality of persuasiveness that had all
the essentials of true eloquence. This morning the people
felt the complete sincerity and humility of a man who had
gone deep into the heart of a great truth.
After
telling briefly of some results in his own church in Raymond
since the pledge was taken, he went on to ask the question
he had been asking since the Settlement meeting. He had
taken for his theme the story of the young man who came to
Jesus asking what he must do to obtain eternal life. Jesus
had tested him. "Sell all that thou hast and give to
the poor, and thou shalt have treasure in heaven; and come
follow me." But the young man was not willing to suffer
to that extent. If following Jesus meant suffering in that
way, he was not willing. He would like to follow Jesus, but
not if he had to give so much.
"Is it
true," continued Henry Maxwell, and his fine,
thoughtful face glowed with a passion of appeal that stirred
the people as they had seldom been stirred, "is it true
that the church of today, the church that is called after
Christ's own name, would refuse to follow Him at the expense
of suffering, of physical loss, of temporary gain? The
statement was made at a large gathering in the Settlement
last week by a leader of workingmen that it was hopeless to
look to the church for any reform or redemption of society.
On what was that statement based? Plainly on the assumption
that the church contains for the most part men and women who
think more 'of their own ease and luxury' than of the
sufferings and needs and sins of humanity. How far is that
true? Are the Christians of America ready to have their
discipleship tested? How about the men who possess large
wealth? Are they ready to take that wealth and use it as
Jesus would? How about the men and women of great talent?
Are they ready to consecrate that talent to humanity as
Jesus undoubtedly would do?
"Is it
not true that the call has come in this age for a new
exhibition of Christian discipleship? You who live in this
great sinful city must know that better than I do. Is it
possible you can go your ways careless or thoughtless of the
awful condition of men and women and children who are dying,
body and soul, for need of Christian help? Is it not a
matter of concern to you personally that the saloon kills
its thousands more surely than war? Is it not a matter of
personal suffering in some form for you that thousands of
able-bodied, willing men tramp the streets of this city and
all cities, crying for work and drifting into crime and
suicide because they cannot find it? Can you say that this
is none of your business? Let each man look after himself?
Would it not be true, think you, that if every Christian in
America did as Jesus would do, society itself, the business
world, yes, the very political system under which our
commercial and governmental activity is carried on, would be
so changed that human suffering would be reduced to a
minimum?
"What
would be the result if all the church members of this city
tried to do as Jesus would do? It is not possible to say in
detail what the effect would be. But it is easy to say, and
it is true, that instantly the human problem would begin to
find an adequate answer.
"What
is the test of Christian discipleship? Is it not the same as
in Christ's own time? Have our surroundings modified or
changed the test? If Jesus were here today would He not call
some of the members of this very church to do just what He
commanded the young man, and ask them to give up their
wealth and literally follow Him? I believe He would do that
if He felt certain that any church member thought more of
his possessions than of the Savior. The test would be the
same today as then. I believe Jesus would demand He does
demand now--as close a following, as much suffering, as
great self-denial as when He lived in person on the earth
and said, 'Except a man renounce all that he hath he cannot
be my disciple.' That is, unless he is willing to do it for
my sake, he cannot be my disciple.
"What
would be the result if in this city every church member
should begin to do as Jesus would do? It is not easy to go
into details of the result. But we all know that certain
things would be impossible that are now practiced by church
members.
"What
would Jesus do in the matter of wealth? How would He spend
it? What principle would regulate His use of money? Would He
be likely to live in great luxury and spend ten times as
much on personal adornment and entertainment as He spent to
relieve the needs of suffering humanity? How would Jesus be
governed in the making of money? Would He take rentals from
saloons and other disreputable property, or even from
tenement property that was so constructed that the inmates
had no such things as a home and no such possibility as
privacy or cleanliness?
"What
would Jesus do about the great army of unemployed and
desperate who tramp the streets and curse the church, or are
indifferent to it, lost in the bitter struggle for the bread
that tastes bitter when it is earned on account of the
desperate conflict to get it? Would Jesus care nothing for
them? Would He go His way in comparative ease and comfort?
Would He say that it was none of His business? Would He
excuse Himself from all responsibility to remove the causes
of such a condition?
"What
would Jesus do in the center of a civilization that hurries
so fast after money that the very girls employed in great
business houses are not paid enough to keep soul and body
together without fearful temptations so great that scores of
them fall and are swept over the great boiling abyss; where
the demands of trade sacrifice hundreds of lads in a
business that ignores all Christian duties toward them in
the way of education and moral training and personal
affection? Would Jesus, if He were here today as a part of
our age and commercial industry, feel nothing, do nothing,
say nothing, in the face of these facts which every business
man knows?
"What
would Jesus do? Is not that what the disciple ought to do?
Is he not commanded to follow in His steps? How much is the
Christianity of the age suffering for Him? Is it denying
itself at the cost of ease, comfort, luxury, elegance of
living? What does the age need more than personal sacrifice?
Does the church do its duty in following Jesus when it gives
a little money to establish missions or relieve extreme
cases of want? Is it any sacrifice for a man who is worth
ten million dollars simply to give ten thousand dollars for
some benevolent work? Is he not giving something that cost
him practically nothing so far as any personal suffering
goes? Is it true that the Christian disciples today in most
of our churches are living soft, easy, selfish lives, very
far from any sacrifice that can be called sacrifice? What
would Jesus do?
"It is
the personal element that Christian discipleship needs to
emphasize. 'The gift without the giver is bare.' The
Christianity that attempts to suffer by proxy is not the
Christianity of Christ. Each individual Christian business
man, citizen, needs to follow in His steps along the path of
personal sacrifice to Him. There is not a different path
today from that of Jesus' own times. It is the same path.
The call of this dying century and of the new one soon to
be, is a call for a new discipleship, a new following of
Jesus, more like the early, simple, apostolic Christianity,
when the disciples left all and literally followed the
Master. Nothing but a discipleship of this kind can face the
destructive selfishness of the age with any hope of
overcoming it. There is a great quantity of nominal
Christianity today. There is need of more of the real kind.
We need revival of the Christianity of Christ. We have,
unconsciously, lazily, selfishly, formally grown into a
discipleship that Jesus himself would not acknowledge. He
would say to many of us when we cry, 'Lord, Lord,' 'I never
knew you!' Are we ready to take up the cross? Is it possible
for this church to sing with exact truth,
'Jesus, I my
cross have taken,
All to leave and follow Thee?'
If we can
sing that truly, then we may claim discipleship. But if our
definition of being a Christian is simply to enjoy the
privileges of worship, be generous at no expense to
ourselves, have a good, easy time surrounded by pleasant
friends and by comfortable things, live respectably and at
the same time avoid the world's great stress of sin and
trouble because it is too much pain to bear it--if this is
our definition of Christianity, surely we are a long way
from following the steps of Him who trod the way with groans
and tears and sobs of anguish for a lost humanity; who
sweat, as it were, great drops of blood, who cried out on
the upreared cross, 'My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
me?'
"Are we
ready to make and live a new discipleship? Are we ready to
reconsider our definition of a Christian? What is it to be a
Christian? It is to imitate Jesus. It is to do as He would
do. It is to walk in His steps."
When Henry
Maxwell finished his sermon, he paused and looked at the
people with a look they never forgot and, at the moment, did
not understand. Crowded into that fashionable church that
day were hundreds of men and women who had for years lived
the easy, satisfied life of a nominal Christianity. A great
silence fell over the congregation. Through the silence
there came to the consciousness of all the souls there
present a knowledge, stranger to them now for years, of a
Divine Power. Every one expected the preacher to call for
volunteers who would do as Jesus would do. But Maxwell had
been led by the Spirit to deliver his message this time and
wait for results to come.
He closed
the service with a tender prayer that kept the Divine
Presence lingering very near every hearer, and the people
slowly rose to go out. Then followed a scene that would have
been impossible if any mere man had been alone in his
striving for results.
Men and
women in great numbers crowded around the platform to see
Mr. Maxwell and to bring him the promise of their
consecration to the pledge to do as Jesus would do. It was a
voluntary, spontaneous movement that broke upon his soul
with a result he could not measure. But had he not been
praying for is very thing? It was an answer that more than
met his desires.
There
followed this movement a prayer service that in its
impressions repeated the Raymond experience. In the evening,
to Mr. Maxwell's joy, the Endeavor Society almost to a
member came forward, as so many of the church members had
done in the morning, and seriously, solemnly, tenderly, took
the pledge to do as Jesus would do. A deep wave of spiritual
baptism broke over the meeting near its close that was
indescribable in its tender, joyful, sympathetic results.
That was a
remarkable day in the history of that church, but even more
so in the history of Henry Maxwell. He left the meeting very
late. He went to his room at the Settlement where he was
still stopping, and after an hour with the Bishop and Dr.
Bruce, spent in a joyful rehearsal of the wonderful events
of the day, he sat down to think over again by himself all
the experience he was having as a Christian disciple.
He had
kneeled to pray, as he always did before going to sleep, and
it was while he was on his knees that he had a waking vision
of what might be in the world when once the new discipleship
had made its way into the conscience and conscientiousness
of Christendom. He was fully conscious of being awake, but
no less certainly did it seem to him that he saw certain
results with great distinctiveness, partly as realities of
the future, partly great longings that they might be
realities. And this is what Henry Maxwell saw in this waking
vision:
He saw
himself, first, going back to the First Church in Raymond,
living there in a simpler, more self-denying fashion than he
had yet been willing to live, because he saw ways in which
he could help others who were really dependent on him for
help. He also saw, more dimly, that the time would come when
his position as pastor of the church would cause him to
suffer more on account of growing opposition to his
interpretation of Jesus and His conduct. But this was
vaguely outlined. Through it all he heard the words "My
grace is sufficient for thee."
He saw
Rachel Winslow and Virginia Page going on with their work of
service at the Rectangle, and reaching out loving hands of
helpfulness far beyond the limits of Raymond. Rachel he saw
married to Rollin Page, both fully consecrated to the
Master's use, both following His steps with an eagerness
intensified and purified by their love for each other. And
Rachel's voice sang on, in slums and dark places of despair
and sin, and drew lost souls back to God and heaven once
more.
He saw
President Marsh of the college using his great learning and
his great influence to purify the city, to ennoble its
patriotism, to inspire the young men and women who loved as
well as admired him to lives of Christian service, always
teaching them that education means great responsibility for
the weak and the ignorant.
He saw
Alexander Powers meeting with sore trials in his family
life, with a constant sorrow in the estrangement of wife and
friends, but still going his way in all honor, serving in
all his strength the Master whom he had obeyed, even unto
the loss of social distinction and wealth.
He saw
Milton Wright, the merchant, meeting with great reverses.
Thrown upon the future by a combination of circumstances,
with vast business interests involved in ruin through no
fault of his own, but coming out of his reverses with clean
Christian honor, to begin again and work up to a position
where he could again be to hundreds of young men an example
of what Jesus would do in business.
He saw
Edward Norman, editor of the NEWS, by means of the money
given by Virginia, creating a force in journalism that in
time came to be recognized as one of the real factors of the
nation to mold its principles and actually shape its policy,
a daily illustration of the might of a Christian press, and
the first of a series of such papers begun and carried on by
other disciples who had also taken the pledge.
He saw
Jasper Chase, who had denied his Master, growing into a
cold, cynical, formal life, writing novels that were social
successes, but each one with a sting in it, the reminder of
his denial, the bitter remorse that, do what he would, no
social success could remove.
He saw Rose
Sterling, dependent for some years upon her aunt and
Felicia, finally married to a man far older than herself,
accepting the burden of a relation that had no love in it on
her part, because of her desire to be the wife of a rich man
and enjoy the physical luxuries that were all of life to
her. Over this life also the vision cast certain dark and
awful shadows but they were not shown in detail.
He saw
Felicia and Stephen Clyde happily married, living a
beautiful life together, enthusiastic, joyful in suffering,
pouring out their great, strong, fragrant service into the
dull, dark, terrible places of the great city, and redeeming
souls through the personal touch of their home, dedicated to
the Human Homesickness all about them.
He saw Dr.
Bruce and the Bishop going on with the Settlement work. He
seemed to see the great blazing motto over the door
enlarged, "What would Jesus do?" and by this motto
every one who entered the Settlement walked in the steps of
the Master.
He saw
Burns and his companion and a great company of men like
them, redeemed and giving in turn to others, conquering
their passions by the divine grace, and proving by their
daily lives the reality of the new birth even in the lowest
and most abandoned.
And now the
vision was troubled. It seemed to him that as he kneeled he
began to pray, and the vision was more of a longing for a
future than a reality in the future. The church of Jesus in
the city and throughout the country! Would it follow Jesus?
Was the movement begun in Raymond to spend itself in a few
churches like Nazareth Avenue and the one where he had
preached today, and then die away as a local movement, a
stirring on the surface but not to extend deep and far? He
felt with agony after the vision again. He thought he saw
the church of Jesus in America open its heart to the moving
of the Spirit and rise to the sacrifice of its ease and
self-satisfaction in the name of Jesus. He thought he saw
the motto, "What would Jesus do?" inscribed over
every church door, and written on every church member's
heart.
The vision
vanished. It came back clearer than before, and he saw the
Endeavor Societies all over the world carrying in their
great processions at some mighty convention a banner on
which was written, "What would Jesus do?" And he
thought in the faces of the young men and women he saw
future joy of suffering, loss, self-denial, martyrdom. And
when this part of the vision slowly faded, he saw the figure
of the Son of God beckoning to him and to all the other
actors in his life history. An Angel Choir somewhere was
singing. There was a sound as of many voices and a shout as
of a great victory. And the figure of Jesus grew more and
more splendid. He stood at the end of a long flight of
steps. "Yes! Yes! O my Master, has not the time come
for this dawn of the millennium of Christian history? Oh,
break upon the Christendom of this age with the light and
the truth! Help us to follow Thee all the way!"
He rose at
last with the awe of one who has looked at heavenly things.
He felt the human forces and the human sins of the world as
never before. And with a hope that walks hand in hand with
faith and love Henry Maxwell, disciple of Jesus, laid him
down to sleep and dreamed of the regeneration of
Christendom, and saw in his dream a church of Jesus without
spot or wrinkle or any such thing, following him all the
way, walking obediently in His steps.
THE END
