Social Distinctions in Protestant Churches
By Ezra Tinker
IN our Protestant churches social distinctions are often very marked, and the impoverished and the uncultured are relegated to some distant corner, or treated to a seat in the mission chapel. They are indirectly but effectually informed that they are not wanted, that their presence is distasteful. How many a sexton has been severely reproved because he did not know broadcloth, and with unbecoming courage, seated linsey woolsey and the choicest beaver in the same pew. And how many a pew-owner, holding the most important official positions in the church, has instructed the ushers that his pew was not accessible to the average person, and if by chance such a one has found his way to some cozy sitting, with what looks of displeasure he is informed that his absence is preferable to his presence, that he ought to have known better. Said a pastor of a small but wealthy church, who had universally preached to crowded congregations in other places: “It is utterly impossible to fill the little edifice, because the average person never comes but three times. The first time he comes he takes a seat in the center of the church, but nobody recognizes him; the second time he sits on the east side, but no one greets him; the third time he goes to the west side, and fares as before. He leaves the church, never to return. In fact,” said the humiliated pastor, “the members do not thank a minister for trying to fill the church with common people.” Is it at all surprising that some of the ablest preachers discoursed in that edifice to a hundred and fifty hearers, and that a genuine conversion in such surroundings is almost unknown? It is this Pharisaic, lily-fingered, cold, heartless church pride and selfishness that keeps tens of thousands from entering the sanctuary on the Sabbath. They will not attend to be patronized or scorned. But if they could be greeted with genuine Christian warmth, and made to feel that they were heartily welcomed, our congregations would suddenly undergo a marvelous change.—Rev. Ezra Tinker.