"BUT I am prolonging this letter, possibly to your weariness. I am
unable to avoid the feeling of fascination which my entire stay here
has increased. I want to tell you something of the meeting in the
First Church today.
"As I said, I heard Maxwell preach. At his earnest request I had
preached for him the Sunday before, and this was the first time I
had heard him since the Association meeting four years ago. His
sermon this morning was as different from his sermon then as if it
had been thought out and preached by some one living on another
planet. I was profoundly touched. I believe I actually shed tears
once. Others in the congregation were moved like myself. His text
was: 'What is that to thee? Follow thou Me.' It was a most unusually
impressive appeal to the Christians of Raymond to obey Jesus'
teachings and follow in His steps regardless of what others might
do. I cannot give you even the plan of the sermon. It would take too
long. At the close of the service there was the usual after meeting
that has become a regular feature of the First Church. Into this
meeting have come all those who made the pledge to do as Jesus would
do, and the time is spent in mutual fellowship, confession, question
as to what Jesus would do in special cases, and prayer that the one
great guide of every disciple's conduct may be the Holy Spirit.
"Maxwell asked me to come into this meeting. Nothing in all my
ministerial life, Caxton, has so moved me as that meeting. I never
felt the Spirit's presence so powerfully. It was a meeting of
reminiscences and of the most loving fellowship. I was irresistibly
driven in thought back to the first years of Christianity. There was
something about all this that was apostolic in its simplicity and
Christ imitation.
"I asked questions. One that seemed to arouse more interest than any
other was in regard to the extent of the Christian disciple's
sacrifice of personal property. Maxwell tells me that so far no one
has interpreted the spirit of Jesus in such a way as to abandon his
earthly possessions, give away of his wealth, or in any literal way
imitate the Christians of the order, for example, of St. Francis of
Assisi. It was the unanimous consent, however, that if any disciple
should feel that Jesus in his own particular case would do that,
there could be only one answer to the question. Maxwell admitted
that he was still to a certain degree uncertain as to Jesus'
probable action when it came to the details of household living, the
possession of wealth, the holding of certain luxuries. It is,
however, very evident that many of these disciples have repeatedly
carried their obedience to Jesus to the extreme limit, regardless of
financial loss. There is no lack of courage or consistency at this
point.
"It is also true that some of the business men who took the pledge
have lost great sums of money in this imitation of Jesus, and many
have, like Alexander Powers, lost valuable positions owing to the
impossibility of doing what they had been accustomed to do and at
the same time what they felt Jesus would do in the same place. In
connection with these cases it is pleasant to record the fact that
many who have suffered in this way have been at once helped
financially by those who still have means. In this respect I think
it is true that these disciples have all things in common. Certainly
such scenes as I witnessed at the First Church at that after service
this morning I never saw in my church or in any other. I never
dreamed that such Christian fellowship could exist in this age of
the world. I was almost incredulous as to the witness of my own
senses. I still seem to be asking myself if this is the close of the
nineteenth century in America.
"But now, dear friend, I come to the real cause of this letter, the
real heart of the whole question as the First Church of Raymond has
forced it upon me. Before the meeting closed today steps were taken
to secure the co-operation of all other Christian disciples in this
country. I think Maxwell took this step after long deliberation. He
said as much to me one day when we were discussing the effect of
this movement upon the church in general.
"'Why,' he said, 'suppose that the church membership generally in
this country made this pledge and lived up to it! What a revolution
it would cause in Christendom! But why not? Is it any more than the
disciple ought to do? Has he followed Jesus, unless he is willing to
do this? Is the test of discipleship any less today than it was in
Jesus' time?'
"I do not know all that preceded or followed his thought of what
ought to be done outside of Raymond, but the idea crystallized today
in a plan to secure the fellowship of all the Christians in America.
The churches, through their pastors, will be asked to form disciple
gatherings like the one in the First Church. Volunteers will be
called for in the great body of church members in the United States,
who will promise to do as Jesus would do. Maxwell spoke particularly
of the result of such general action on the saloon question. He is
terribly in earnest over this. He told me that there was no question
in his mind that the saloon would be beaten in Raymond at the
election now near at hand. If so, they could go on with some courage
to do the redemptive work begun by the evangelist and now taken up
by the disciples in his own church. If the saloon triumphs again
there will be a terrible and, as he thinks, unnecessary waste of
Christian sacrifice. But, however we differ on that point, he
convinced his church that the time had come for a fellowship with
other Christians. Surely, if the First Church could work such
changes in society and its surroundings, the church in general if
combining such a fellowship, not of creed but of conduct, ought to
stir the entire nation to a higher life and a new conception of
Christian following.
"This is a grand idea, Caxton, but right here is where I find my
self hesitating. I do not deny that the Christian disciple ought to
follow Christ's steps as closely as these here in Raymond have tried
to do. But I cannot avoid asking what the result would be if I ask
my church in Chicago to do it. I am writing this after feeling the
solemn, profound touch of the Spirit's presence, and I confess to
you, old friend, that I cannot call up in my church a dozen
prominent business or professional men who would make this trial at
the risk of all they hold dear. Can you do any better in your
church? What are we to say? That the churches would not respond to
the call: 'Come and suffer?' Is our standard of Christian
discipleship a wrong one? Or are we possibly deceiving ourselves,
and would we be agreeably disappointed if we once asked our people
to take such a pledge faithfully? The actual results of the pledge
as obeyed here in Raymond are enough to make any pastor tremble, and
at the same time long with yearning that they might occur in his own
parish. Certainly never have I seen a church so signally blessed by
the Spirit as this one. But--am I myself ready to take this pledge?
I ask the question honestly, and I dread to face an honest answer. I
know well enough that I should have to change very much in my life
if I undertook to follow His steps so closely. I have called myself
a Christian for many years. For the past ten years I have enjoyed a
life that has had comparatively little suffering in it. I am,
honestly I say it, living at a long distance from municipal problems
and the life of the poor, the degraded and the abandoned. What would
the obedience to this pledge demand of me? I hesitate to answer. My
church is wealthy, full of well-to-do, satisfied people. The
standard of their discipleship is, I am aware, not of a nature to
respond to the call of suffering or personal loss. I say: 'I am
aware.' I may be mistaken. I may have erred in not stirring their
deeper life. Caxton, my friend, I have spoken my inmost thought to
you. Shall I go back to my people next Sunday and stand up before
them in my large city church and say: 'Let us follow Jesus closer;
let us walk in His steps where it will cost us something more than
it is costing us now; let us pledge not to do anything without first
asking: 'What would Jesus do?' If I should go before them with that
message, it would be a strange and startling one to them. But why?
Are we not ready to follow Him all the way? What is it to be a
follower of Jesus? What does it mean to imitate Him? What does it
mean to walk in His steps?"
The Rev. Calvin Bruce, D. D., of the Nazareth Avenue Church,
Chicago, let his pen fall on the table. He had come to the parting
of the ways, and his question, he felt sure, was the question of
many and many a man in the ministry and in the church. He went to
his window and opened it. He was oppressed with the weight of his
convictions and he felt almost suffocated with the air in the room.
He wanted to see the stars and feel the breath of the world.
The night was very still. The clock in the First Church was just
striking midnight. As it finished a clear, strong voice down in the
direction of the Rectangle came floating up to him as if borne on
radiant pinions.
It was a voice of one of Gray's old converts, a night watchman at
the packing houses, who sometimes solaced his lonesome hours by a
verse or two of some familiar hymn:
"Must Jesus bear the cross alone
And all the world go free?
No, there's a cross for every one,
And there's a cross for me."
The Rev. Calvin Bruce turned away from the window and, after a
little hesitation, he kneeled. "What would Jesus do?" That was the
burden of his prayer. Never had he yielded himself so completely to
the Spirit's searching revealing of Jesus. He was on his knees a
long time. He retired and slept fitfully with many awakenings. He
rose before it was clear dawn, and threw open his window again. As
the light in the east grew stronger he repeated to himself: "What
would Jesus do? Shall I follow His steps?"
The sun rose and flooded the city with its power. When shall the
dawn of a new discipleship usher in the conquering triumph of a
closer walk with Jesus? When shall Christendom tread more closely
the path he made?
"It is the way the Master trod;
Shall not the servant tread it still?"
With this question throbbing through his whole being, the Rev. Calvin
Bruce, D. D., went back to Chicago, and the great crisis in his
Christian life in the ministry suddenly broke irresistibly upon him.