Day of Pentecost
That great day at the Baptist Temple stands out in the history of the
local church there even as the greater Pentecost must have been first in
the memory of the disciples at Jerusalem. No one who entered personally,
body and soul, into the services of that Easter in Philadelphia can
possibly forget the overpowering impressions of the Divine Spirit.
"Tongues of fire" seemed to the spectator no longer an extravagant
metaphor to use. For the sake of a careful examination of the question
whether the baptism of the spirit is of God or men, the plain facts are
here stated.
It was Easter morning, 1893, when the sun began to gild the City Hall
tower. People flocked to the lower hall of the Temple from all
directions. Each greeted the other with the words, "He is risen," and
faces glowed as they assembled. There was no prearranged program and no
announcements. The people began to sing with enthusiasm before the
leader ascended the platform. Then came the moment of silent prayer. It
seemed as if "the place was shaken." The whole company trembled as if
they realized they were in the visible presence of the Almighty. The
most conservative shed tears. There were many brief expressions from the
audience, and often three were speaking at the same time. There was no
shouting, no riotous disorder, no wild movements of uncontrolled
emotion. Excited crowds at political gatherings, angry mobs, and
panic-stricken crowds seem to have a form of that emotional common
pressure. But that Easter gathering was a surrender of soul to the
telepathic influence of a common spirit. One elderly Quaker shouted at
the close of the meeting, "I would like to stay here forever," reminding
all of Peter's call for three tabernacles on the Mount of
Transfiguration. There was an intermission of an hour before the
morning preaching service in the auditorium. But the people would not go
out for breakfast. Some fasted all day. They talked about Christ and of
their home in Glory and exchanged promises to pray for friends, for
missions, and for churches. Before the hour of the established morning
service the large upper Temple had overflowed. There had been no
advertisement of the services. There were no unusual decorations of the
auditorium and no special music provided. The preacher had not prepared
a sermon, nor had he read over that morning a selected chapter. He had
been too much crowded with visitors and pressing calls of the needy and
dying to devote even a half an hour to mental preparation. But no
feeling of doubt or of weakness entered his heart. He felt a strange
support and uplift of soul which kept away all fears. He had not decided
to preach at all, and hesitated whether he had not best venture on an
"experience meeting" in the time usually allowed for the Easter sermon.
But the choir was inspired; they, too, felt the impression of a solemn
convocation. They never sang like that before, and the old tunes were
vibrant with a resurrection life. The people sang and wept. City
officials, principals of the schools, court judges, and merchants, let
the tears fall. There seemed to be an absolute surrender of all classes
to a common pressure toward God. The preacher arose with a most powerful
impulse to kneel and weep. He forgot to announce a text, but he began to
talk brokenly on the appearance of Christ to Mary Magdalene in the
Garden near the tomb. His vision of the scene was so real to him that he
has never through the years lost that clear view of it. The preacher
seemed to be there in the Garden. He saw the Lord; he heard that divine
voice; he saw that lovely face, the smile which greeted Mary. The
preacher heard the conversation, saw the excited woman fall at her
Saviour's feet, and heard him say, "I am not yet ascended unto my
Father!"
Oh, where is there a language to describe to mortal men the
all-pervading glory and the thrills of angelic joy which the preacher
experienced under those circumstances? To himself he seemed to be taken
out of his physical limitations. He was not himself. He was a higher
personality. He saw visions of beauty and heard the harps of Glory. He
lacks no words nor thoughts. He speaks the ideas which are given him.
There is no other joy on earth with which to compare that. It is so
unlike the richest or sweetest emotions which other forms of happiness
awaken. It is supreme! Unaccountable things occurred that morning which
no prolonged or hard study has explained. The preacher cannot feel sure
that he was inspired, and hesitates to mention the facts lest men should
doubt their truth or ascribe to him an egotistical claim to sanctity.
But the experience with that sermon, and sometimes with other addresses,
presents a psychological study which none of the authorities on mental
law have yet explained. The stenographic report of the sermon showed
that the speaker quoted from Homer, Justinian, Macaulay, Shakespeare,
Longfellow, and Moliere accurately, without hesitation, in the onrush of
his excited speech. But when he read them in the shorthand report he
could not remember that he ever had read those quotations and was
absolutely unable to recall that he used such words. The interpretation
which he unhesitatingly gave of the scene in the Garden and of the words
of Jesus were also new to him and caused him anxious hours of research
afterward to learn whether his views could have been correct. But no
sermon in his forty years of work in the pulpit has proven so reasonable
or so generally acceptable to the devout critics of Scriptural exegesis.
He has tried to account for the quotations by accrediting them to the
telepathic influence of stronger minds in the audience who were familiar
with them. But that, too, can be only a guess. The mystery is not
cleared up by such speculation. Perhaps the preacher should have called
in some one else to write this chapter; but that "some one else" is not
on call. Hence, these incidents are set down without a claim to uncommon
inspiration.
Probably thousands of priests and preachers have felt a like exaltation.
But the closing hymn which began with general participation by all the
people was so broken before its close that the last verse was carried
only by a few. The people wept for joy. The preacher knelt at his chair
and prayed for aid to lead in the prayer and benediction. But the
benediction was not heard, and the audience was slowly convinced that
the benediction had been pronounced by the observation that the minister
dropped his hands and walked away.
The Bible-school service in the afternoon was as solemn and impressive
as the morning. Many of the hundreds baptized that day expressed
themselves as having felt the dovelike Spirit of Peace descending on
them, too. Nearly, if not all, the scholars and visitors turned
sincerely and permanently to the Lord.
The evening services were given up wholly to praise. The rejoicing was
deep and strong. The crowd standing in the aisles and on the steps did
not move until after the benediction. The number of those in the
sittings was three thousand one hundred and thirty-four, and of those
standing who got inside the doors was seven hundred and eighty-three.
Out of that number over three hundred decided openly to confess their
belief in the Christ. These numbers are not especially great when
compared with those of the great revivals, and are only mentioned here
for the purpose of study. Over seven thousand converts have been taken
into the membership of the Temple in thirty-nine years, but they have
not been the direct results of seasons of special revival.
Great were the expectations of the church at that Easter as they
prepared for a great immediate harvest. But it was not gathered then.
The personal, individual gathering of converts continued as usual. The
great Pentecostal visitation seemed to have had another purpose. Each
candidate for baptism as usual required individual instruction and often
continued prayer before he or she could be thoroughly convinced of the
necessity of a public confession of our Lord.
But the members of the church had in the Pentecost received a new
baptism of spiritual fire, and the interest in missions and in the Bible
was greatly increased. Five missions were established which soon became
strong churches. Young men arose by the score to study for the ministry,
and large gifts were made to the Temple University. Many kinds of local
enterprises for the poor, the drunken, the foreigners, and the aged were
opened by them in the city and suburbs.