p. 5 | The Poor Shut Out of the Churches

Seventh-day Adventist Publishing Association · Battle Creek, Mich. · Jan 1, 1875

The Poor Shut Out of the Churches.

By Dudley Marvin Canright

The following from a sharp little paper published in San Francisco, furnishes a practical illustration of James 2:1-6 and forcibly shows how the poor are virtually being shut out of the churches.

HOW WE CONVINCED A PSALM-SINGER.

Since the Jolly Giant commenced to show the people of this city that the churches were only places of amusement, intended for the wealthy, as a matter of course the psalm-singers and hypocritical bull-frogs were not pleased. To convince us that we were in error, a long-faced church-goer, belonging to “chain lightning Stone’s” place of amusement, called at our office last week, and invited us to attend worship, as he termed it, just one Sabbath, and see for ourselves that the poor were equally as well attended to as the rich. We complied without any hesitation, because our object is to do justice to all men, be they rich or poor.

But we made one proposal to the man of God, which was this:—

We said that we would go in the morning dressed like a gentleman, and we would go in the evening dressed like a laboring man, and if the same attention was paid us on both occasions, we would correct our former error and hold our peace forevermore.

Last Sunday morning, our managing editor donned his best Sunday clothes, a stovepipe hat, ornamented his editorial hands with a three-dollar pair of kids, and a handsome walking cane.

Repairing to Dr. Stone’s Church, he was met at the door by a well-gotten-up usher who rushed for him, knowing that he was a stranger, and presuming that he had four bits in his pocket for the plate. The usher preceded him to the fifth pew from the platform, and politely bowed him in. There were two charming ladies already in the pew; those dear angels tucked up their satin robes to make a place for him, and one of them, with a neatly gloved hand, opened the prayer-book, and graciously pointed out that part of the programme led by the actor for the opening chapter, and the other dear angel pushed the foot-cushion down so he could rest his “No. tens” thereon. Every attention was shown to him. The psalm-singer who called at our office sat upon the other side of the aisle, watching the whole proceedings, and from his appearance it was evident that he was well pleased. No doubt he thought to himself, Ah! now I got this fellow; we’ll hear no more about “bull-frog aristocracy.” The service, as they call it, but the show as we term it, was ended, and our chief editor returned home.

IN THE EVENING,

He dressed himself as a rough working man, clean, but unkempt, his hair uncombed, a “black-thorn” shirt, no collar nor necktie, his vest partly buttoned, and the whole make up the reverse of genteel. In this style he presented himself at the door; the same usher was there; ladies and gentlemen came, and were accommodated with seats, yet our chief editor was permitted to stand outside in the porch. The first act of the performance was ended; the usher came out and inquired from him, did he wish to come inside. Being answered in the affirmative, the usher stepped aside for a moment, looked vacantly around, stood at the door, looked out, looked in again, and finally stooped over to an old lady who occupied the pauper’s pew, and whispered something in her left ear. At this she got up and took a seat two pews higher up the aisle. After this was all done, and the second act of the performance about to commence, the usher again stepped out, and said to our chief editor, Well, if you wish to join the service this evening, you can come in. Our chief editor stepped in, and the usher pointed the vacant pew out to him; he took a seat; there was no book before him; there was no handsome lady to push the cushion over to his big feet. When the collector came around with the plate, he never came near that pew. In fact he had the whole pew to himself, and all the companion he had was an unpleasant, cold, whistling wind, that escaped through the chink in the door.

The performance was ended, and our chief editor returned home, a more convinced man about churches being exclusively for the wealthy than the psalm-singer would care to acknowledge. However, the man of God called at our office last Tuesday, and had to admit that we were right in our criticism, but endeavored to argue the errors away by saying that it was entirely the usher’s fault, and he assured us that if the minister, Dr. Stone, or the elders, knew of it they would be very much displeased.” Pshaw! we said, we did not live in this country for the last twenty-four years for nothing. We knew that the poor have no place in the churches in this city, and we defy contradiction and in proof of this assertion quote the above. We except the Roman Catholic churches in this general proposition.

Who can blame the poor for not going where they are treated thus? Where are the preachers who will reach the common people?

D. M. C.