INCIDENTS SHOWING THE POWER OF GOD TO SAVE
Among the many other impressive cases of the power of God to suddenly
change a human life from evil to good occurred at the Breakfast
Association in Philadelphia about the year 1898, and although fifteen
years have passed, every incident, every word is indelibly written on my
memory.
I was coming off the platform one evening when I met a large,
fierce-looking, scowling man, who looked as if he wanted to strike me. I
stopped at once. “Friend,” I said, “you are in trouble.” “What is that
to you and such as you?” “It is much to me. You look like an employer of
men, yet here you have been taking the bread and coffee of charity.”
“Well, I have been an employer of men, but now I cannot even get
employment. I have been behind bars; now what hope in life is there for
me?” “Many men who have been behind bars have afterward made good
citizens and even made fortunes. Let us go down to the Board room and
talk this out.”
As he went along growling that there was no hope for him, I motioned to
Mr. McMasters and another worker to come with us. When we were seated,
he said, “Now, all I want of you people is to help me get work so that I
do not wander like a stray dog through the streets of the city where I
was born. My wife and family have deserted me and I am a desperate man.”
“Yes,” I said, “brother, no woman could live with you as you are now,
one would as soon live with a wolf; your hand is against every man and
every man's hand is against you. But God can again make you an employer
of men. He can make you a good husband and father, but you must find God
first. Where is your mother?” I saw him shrink, and I knew then I had
the key. “My going to prison killed my mother. I had a mill in a suburb
of Philadelphia, and sometimes, after the day's work was done, I would
step into a saloon and take a glass of beer with my foreman. I was not
what you would call a drinking man. One evening we got into a dispute
about something concerning the mill, and I picked up a monkey wrench and
struck my foreman just one blow, but I killed him. All our property went
for lawyer fees, all to no purpose, for I was sent to prison for ten
years. I have just been pardoned,” and he drew the governor's pardon
from his pocket. “When I went to my home I found strangers in it, but at
last I found my wife and my children now nearly grown, but they would
not let me live with them.” I knew perfectly well from other experiences
that he had gone in violence and had been met with violence.
Mr. McMasters now took the case. He said, “If your mother were now
living, do you believe she would have received you?” “I am sure she
would. The warden often told us that our mothers would stay by us, that
children grew ashamed of a father in prison, wives persuaded themselves
that it only kept up their grief, but a mother's love is like that of
the God above, it remains. But mother died.”
“Well, you want to meet her again, do you not?” “Yes, but my mother was
a Christian.” “That is it; let us kneel and talk to your mother's God.”
Reluctantly, growling that God cared nothing for a poor devil like him,
he kneeled, and with the three of us kneeling about him, we each one
presented the case to God, calling on the “God whom this man's mother
loved and served, asking mercy for a broken life, a broken home and a
broken heart.” By the time the last one prayed his head was on the chair
and he was sobbing. Then he prayed for himself, and God came down and
the old alchemy of God turned the heart of stone to a heart of flesh,
and George Gneiss was born into the kingdom of God. It was not difficult
to get him a place as a skilled miller, and from that day to this he has
made good.
The transforming power of the gospel was plainly seen within a week in
his face, in his clothing, in his bearing at every meeting. After a few
Sundays I was called out of town for six weeks. When I came home, I went
to the Breakfast Association and there, from the gallery, Mr. Gneiss
looked down on me. At his side was a Quaker woman in the plain dress of
her Church, and with them was a manly boy of seventeen. After the
services, they all came to me (I motioned to others to come), and they
told us the story of their reunion. Tears stood in her eyes as she said,
“We have family prayers now, and we pray for you every day. God is
blessing us in every way. Pray for us.”
After that they came to see me, either at the Breakfast Association or
at my home, as often as three or four times a year as long as I remained
in Philadelphia.
THE GOSPEL MISSION
After telling about those two incidents connected with my small share of
rescue work in Philadelphia, it is time now to resume the story of our
Gospel Mission. It is only because we see souls converted almost every
night that makes it possible for us to bear the sight and the foul smell
of unclean bodies, of dead whisky and tobacco, and the revolting
drunkenness, then the remonstrances of one's own kindred and church
people are trying, unless God gave great recompense, first in one's own
enlarged spiritual life, in order to fit us for the work, and almost
daily gave us the joy of seeing souls converted, it would be an
impossible work.
CONVERSIONS AND REGENERATION
Conversion seems to me to be largely man's share in the greater fact of
regeneration, which is entirely God's work in a human soul.
At a Rescue Mission the theologian could get a new and practical
knowledge of the gospel he preaches; the professor of psychology sees
how spiritual powers, unseen to mortal eye, can grip the entire
machinery of the mind, and by a supernatural application of God's Spirit
and the word of God make a man over again.
Hundreds of times have I seen the alchemy of God make men who steal to
do God's service; feet that have been in the way of the transgressor to
walk in the paths of righteousness, and tongues accustomed to blaspheme
to sing God's praises.
Professor James defines conversion thus: “To be converted, to be
regenerated, to receive grace, to experience religion, to gain
assurance, are so many phrases which denote the process, gradual or
sudden, by which a self hitherto divided and consciously wrong, inferior
and unhappy, becomes unified and consciously right, superior and happy,
in consequence of its firmer hold on religious realities.”
[Illustration: “REMEMBER ME”: HANDS UP FOR PRAYER]
_The first element in conversion is first an influence from the Holy
Spirit brought about by prayer._ Now, that prayer may have been sent up
years ago by a mother now dead, but is usually the result of a prayer
atmosphere in the meeting.
The Holy Spirit acts like a searchlight on the human soul, and the
sinner for an instant sees himself as God sees him. I have seen men rush
through the door, and, without taking a seat, come straight to the
altar, because God's Spirit had met them. That is not the usual way, and
it is usually some immediate message of His word, rendered in song or
spoken word to the sinner's heart, by which he catches a glimpse of his
lost condition.
Let no parent be discouraged concerning a wandering child. Delayed
answer to prayer is not a denial. I know a minister whom God greatly
uses who was a wild youth when his mother died, but God answered her
prayer. He will answer yours.
It is important who presents the sinner to God. A perfunctory church
member who plays cards, dances, tipples or smells of tobacco, cannot
acceptably bring a soul to God. God often accepts a soul without an
intermediary, but the wrong person keeps a soul from God. It makes a
difference. You remember Ezekiel 14:20, “Though Noah, Daniel and Job
were in it, they shall but deliver their own souls by their
righteousness,” showing that as we abide in Him, God answers prayers
accordingly. Then the word of God comes in. The helper tries to make the
seeker lay hold of the promises. I have seen many conversions on Romans
10:13, “For whosoever shall call upon the name of the Lord shall be
saved.” It comes like a wireless message from on high. It becomes
personal as the praying sinner cries to God, he believes he is heard, he
believes he is forgiven, he accepts the pardon and rises to his feet a
redeemed man. A supernatural power has come into his soul. Another verse
which brings men through is 1 John 1:9, “If we confess our sins, He is
faithful and just to forgive us our sins and to cleanse us from all
unrighteousness.”
The religion of Christ has two elements in it—a destructive element and
a constructive element. The destructive element is what we figuratively
call “the blood of Christ.” It not only pardons or washes away the past
sins, but it takes out of the soul lying, drinking, lust, laziness,
deceit, fraud of any kind, and with the constructive element it puts
into the soul honor, truth, industry, integrity or wholeness. It creates
in the soul the desire to walk in companionship with Christ.
The recognition of sins forgiven and the conscious presence of God is
what in emotional natures makes some shout, some weep, some tremble as
with an ague, but regeneration in all souls brings unspeakable joy. It
not only energizes for action, but it puts into the soul the power of
endurance before unknown.
I HAVE KEPT THE FAITH
One cold night in November, 1908, the writer had charge of the Gospel
Mission service. In the testimony meeting a fine looking young man arose
and said about this: “I am a graduate of a college in Maine, also of a
medical department of a college of this city. I have had a good practice
and a good home. I have lost all of these from hard drink. Last spring I
was converted in a street meeting held by this Mission at the
post-office corner. Soon after that I obtained a situation in a large
department store in this city, where I did good work, but I lost my
temper at the inefficiency of a driver. I learned then and there that
only proprietors have the right to lose their tempers, and I lost my
place. I have had a hard time since. God only knows the suffering of a
man without money, friends, or even acquaintances in a great city.” And
with a wail, like a cry of anguish, he said, “But I've kept the faith!
I've kept the faith!”
After the close of the meeting, a worker said, “I fear that man has had
no food to-day.” I went to him and said, “Son, when did you eat last?”
He answered, “Yesterday morning.” I slipped into his hand a dollar bill
and my card, and said, “Come and see me to-morrow morning.”
We had no difficulty in getting him back into the department store where
his quick and clear penmanship, his great executive ability, have been
most highly appreciated for nearly five years.