Reforming Power in God's Word
By L. A. S.
A DESCRIPTION of slum mission work in New York City which forcibly depicts the failure of sensational methods of reform so much employed in these days, and emphasizes the great truth that the Word of God alone has power to convert the soul, and that the simple Word succeeds where all else fails, is contributed to the January number of Success by Owen Kildare, author of “My Rise from the Slums to Manhood.” Mr. Kildare speaks from experience, and tells only that whereof he fully knows. Many zealous men of these times who are trying to accomplish reforms by other agencies than the inspired Word—in some instances “reforms” which that Word does not warrant, the reason for employing other agencies being therefore obvious—might be greatly enlightened by a perusal of this article, if their minds were open to conviction. We quote a few of the most pointed of Mr. Kildare’s statements:— “Scattered throughout the city of Greater New York are many so-called rescue missions,” he says. On the Bowery, however, which “from time immemorial . . . has been and still is known as the seat of all wickedness,” there is but one mission. There have been others, “but they were all short lived.” “The old Bowery Mission is the only one which has lasted for years. The reason for this is not hard to find. The Bowery Mission, from its very start, offered nothing else to the men flocking there but the Word of God, and opportunity to hear it intelligently interpreted.” In most of the other missions, this authority says, a system of bribing men to be saved, or to profess conversion, may be found in operation. “As far as I know, the Bowery Mission is the only one of the down-town missions that does not make it a practise to distribute free bed tickets at the close of every meeting. In the other missions that part of the meeting in which the tickets are given out is the most interesting to the congregation.” “I have seen some terrible instances of degradation,” Mr. Kildare says, “but it remained for a rescue mission to afford me an opportunity of observing to what depths some men can sink.” And it was the system upon which the mission was conducted that offered the opportunity and the temptation to those derelicts of the slums to sink lower in degradation than they had been before. The statement last quoted is illustrated by the case of a man who made a practise of professing conversion at the mission meetings for the sake of temporal benefits, glibly telling the worst lies without compunction, his days being spent in begging, loafing, drinking, and smoking. Mr. Kildare further says:— After the testimonies came the “invitation,” extended by the organist. Its leading strain was, “Stop drinking, become one of us, and you will eat oftener than you do now, will wear cleaner linen, and, perhaps, get a job.” The superintendent, who had occupied a seat in the rear of the room, went out into the street before the invitation closed with, “Who’ll be the first to come forward?” It was always hard to decide who was the first to go forward. They fairly rushed to the seats reserved for the unconverted. . . . Men were changed in a twinkling from lethargic, sleepy drowsers, to fervid seekers after righteousness. Such was the first impression, but further observation quickly revealed the secret of the apparent transformation. While the sinners were arranging themselves in kneeling positions along the front row of chairs, the organist stepped from the platform, and began to turn out the lights and open the windows. . . . To do this he had to pass through the aisles, and was button-holed by the men who had testified. He knew most of them by name, and handed each a small card entitling the bearer to the use of a bed for one night at the Home. A few who had not testified also pressed forward and begged for tickets, but were invited to get out as quickly as possible. . . . When the organist got to the front row, he stepped from one to another; and after touching them on the shoulder, scrutinized their features. How he formed his judgment I do not know, as his only inquiry was, “Do you want to be a Christian?” The man questioned would see before him the ticket, saving him from a night in the streets, and—can you not guess his answer? As soon as the last ticket had been given out, the organist spoke again. “That’s all for to-night. The rest of you’ve got to go home.” It was merely a figure of speech, for he did not mean to be ironical; but their homes—why, they were forfeited long ago—and their brethren who had obtained shelter for the night had done so by the most fearful of lies,—by telling their souls for a night’s rest. . . . The statistics of Christian work are very satisfactory in their numerical strength, at first glance. A record of the conversions is kept by every mission and other organization given to the rescuing of men. Foot up the grand totals of these records, and you will be in duty bound to conclude that New York City is absolutely free from sinners, and on the very border-land of heaven. Yet the statistics are technically correct. After citing a very sensational effort made not long ago in that city by the Salvation Army, one feature of which was a procession through the Bowery, headed by twelve men carrying a coffin in which was a living man, this to serve as the basis of a discourse by Commander Booth-Tucker on the subject “Buried Alive,” Mr. Kildare adds:— My personal opinion concerning Salvation Army methods may not be of great importance, but I can recollect other promises and pledges of like nature [of sensational performances, noted singers and speakers, etc.], and still the Bowery is as it was, and the slums are weltering in their sin. I was born in the slums, . . . and I know that only systematic efforts bear fruit, and not the cymbal and bass drum of an emotional wave. There is work to be done in the slums, but it must be quiet, hard work, without hurrahs. I know a man who was saved in the Bowery Mission, and who “carried the banner”—walked the streets at night—without a murmur, for ten days after his salvation. “I wanted Christ, not a bed ticket,” was his answer when I asked him about it. All these statements are made on authority that is indisputable, and the lesson in them is that the one true reforming power in the world is the simple Word of God; that all other agencies will fail, but that this one agency is grandly sufficient. The Word is not sensational, but it is more powerful than all the sensational means which have been devised in these latter times under the mistaken idea of thereby increasing the force of the gospel message. “Not by might, nor by power, but by my Spirit, saith the Lord.” L. A. S.