The Relation of Pew-Rentals to the Perennial Revival

The caption of this chapter reveals no new subject. The custom of pew-rents was unknown to the early church; but it has so long been in vogue that the man who pleads for the free-pew system seems, to some at least, to set himself in opposition to ecclesiastical order. Let it be remembered, however, that since the time it came into practice there have been protestants. It is doubtful if these protestants have ever been so large and influential as now. And while they are yet in the minority, their cause waxes and must eventually win. To aid in hastening that day this chapter is devoted.

In pleading for the free pew we shall attempt to make statements from which dissent will be difficult.

The Free Pew Is Fraternal

It represents the higher sentiment of humanity. We do not believe in the “gospel of humanity.” Humanity is a sinner and not a Saviour. And yet in this sinner there are sentiments which bespeak his former un fallen state, some finer feelings clinging to him, coming down from the day when humanity was sinless; and among them is this feeling of fellowship as between man and man without respect to riches, social standing, breeding, or birth. You remember that Charles Kingsley expressed this sentiment in writing when, under the nom de plume of Parson Lot, he said: “I was looking in at the windows of a Splendid curiosity-shop in Oxford Street, at a case of humming-birds. I was gloating over the beauty of those feathered jewels, and then wondering what was the meaning, what was the use of it all? Why had those exquisite little creatures been hidden for ages, in all their splendor of ruby and emerald and gold, in the South American forests, breeding and fluttering and dying that some dozen out of all those millions might be brought over here to astonish the eyes of men? And as I asked myself why these boundless varieties, these treasures of unseen beauty had been created, my brain grew dizzy between pleasure and thought; and, as always happens when one is most innocently delighted, I turned ’ to share the joy,’ as Wadsworth says and next to me stood a huge, brawny coal-heaver in his shovel hat, and white stockings and high-lows, gazing at the humming-birds as earnestly as myself. As I turned he turned and I saw a bright, manly face with a broad, soot-grimed forehead, from under which a pair of keen, flashing eyes gleamed wondering, smiling sympathy into mine. In that moment we felt ourselves friends. If we had been Frenchmen we should, I suppose, have rushed into each other’s arms and * fraternized ’ upon the spot. As we were a pair of dumb, awkward Englishmen, we only gazed a half-minute, staring into each other’s eyes, with a delightful feeling of understanding each other, and then burst out both at once with, ‘Isn’t that beautiful?” Well, that is! ‘And then both turned back again to stare at our hummingbirds. I never felt more thoroughly than at that minute (though, thank God, I had often felt it before) that all men were brothers; that fraternity and equality were not mere political doctrines, but blessed God-ordained facts; that the party-walls of rank and fashion and money were but a paper prison of our own making, which we might break through at any moment by a single hearty and kindly feeling; that the one Spirit of God was given without respect of persons; that the beautiful things were beautiful alike to the coal-heaver and the parson; and that before the wondrous works of God the rich and the poor might meet together and feel that whatever the coat or the creed may be, ‘A man’s a man for a’ that, and one Lord the maker of them all.” If there is any one place in all the world where the man of means and the man without means, the man of learning and the unlearned man should meet, touch elbows, and feel what Kingsley wrote, namely, that “all men are brothers,” it ought to be in God’s house. The free pew therefore, is an absolute essential to such fellowship.

It recognises the term “in Christ!’ The truest fraternity is not to be found with the ungodly. It is not to be expected that Mammon will claim kin with Poverty; or civilization consent to associate with heathenism. The church of God, however, should bring even these extremes into fellowship. For, as Paul writes to the Galatians: “Ye are all the children of God by faith in Christ Jesus. For as many of you as have been baptized into Christ, have put on Christ. There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus.” Such was the mind of the Master. John Watson says: “Jesus realized that the tie which binds men together in life is not forged in the intellect, but in the heart. Love is the first, and the last, and the strongest bond in experience. It conquers distance, outlives all changes, bears the strain of the most diverse opinions... Unity is possible wherever the current of love runs from Christ’s heart through human hearts and back to Christ again.” But who can imagine that Christ’s prayer for his disciples, that they all may be one as he and his Father are one, will ever be answered while the rented-pew system of church administration remains? The story is told that Robert Ingersoll once went to church, and the wealthy man into whose pew they had put him stopped at the end and waited for Ingersoll to come out, that he might seat his family. But Ingersoll sat still. After sitting down in evident anger, the man wrote a note and passed it over to the pope of infidelity, saying, “I pay five hundred dollars for this pew.” To this Ingersoll instantly scribbled the reply: “Cheap enough; it is a good pew!” We doubt the story, because it involves Ingersoll’s presence at church, but it well illustrates a point. We often hear it said that the man who pays for a pew has a better right in it than he who pays nothing. There are, however, two answers to this claim First of all, will any man admit that his pew-rental is a business bargain of so much money for so much comfort? If so, where does Christ’s gift come in, and where is the man’s sacrifice to the cause? Again, is it Christian to stand on one’s rights? We teach our children that brothers ought not always to stand on their rights, but to show the spirit of self-sacrifice in the interests of others. Should the bloodrelation behave better than the blood-bought? If so, all our Christianity is in vain, and all our boasted brotherhood is but a show-bill published for the purpose of deceiving the people into supposing us to be what we are not. Wherever you find a thoroughgoing Christian, a man who reminds you of the Master, you will find one who will share his pew, and, if need be, surrender it altogether, for Christ’s sake. Would that this spirit were universal, and that we might sing truthfully the words of Louis M. Waterman:

O Wondrous Brotherhood!
Sweet bondage of the heart — Thy golden chains no power
Hath might to tear apart!

O Miracle of Love!
What marvel thou hast done;
Ten thousand thousand lives
In Christ shall be as one!
O Unity Supreme!
Of Father, Spirit, Son — .
In kindred mystery
With Jesus we are one.
Grant us, O Triune God;
A fellowship like thine — A peace — pure, fathomless;
A joy — serene, divine!

The free pew also anticipates the fellowship of heaven. The men who expect to live together hereafter ought to touch elbows, at least, here and now. You remember Paul wrote to the Ephesians concerning the Father, how in “the fulness of times he might gather together in one all things in Christ, both which are in heaven, and which are on earth.” Certainly some closer fellowship here will make way for a sweeter fellowship there. Some years ago James Farrington went from Iowa Falls, Iowa, to New Brunswick, N. J., to visit his brother Patrick. They had not seen each other since 1853, and the meeting was one of such joy that the New York newspapers made mention of it, saying the neighbors in New Brunswick had never looked upon a more affecting scene than the meeting of these two men. Why such demonstrations of love? Why such overflow of sentiment? There is but one answer; they were brothers. F’^orty-seven years before they had dwelt together and learned to love one another. If we are to meet in the hereafter, who questions that our meeting will be sweeter if on earth we have loved the fellowship of the saints, that fellowship in Christ which means the obliteration of every barrier, the equality of children of a common Father? Just so long as we are without the free pew — an institution which puts the high and the low, the rich and the poor, on a common basis in the house of God — we are without the conditions that conserve the fraternity which anticipates the fellowship of heaven.

The Free Pew Is Scriptural

It issues a common invitation to all classes. It makes good Solomon’s proverb: “The rich and poor meet together: the Lord is the maker of them all.” In the opinion of the apostle James, poverty was no reason for relegating a man to the comer, behind a post, or under a footstool, any more than riches was a reason for giving a man the position of the best pew in the house. James uttered some very straight words tO’ the ushers of his hour. It would be well to have them embossed and tacked up at the head of the aisles in every church, that they might be constantly before the usher: “My brethren, have not the faith of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Lord of glory, with respect of persons. For if there come unto your assembly a man with a gold ring, in goodly apparel, and there come in also a poor man in vile raiment; and ye have respect to him that weareth the gay clothing, and say unto him. Sit thou here in a good place; and say to the poor. Stand thou there, or sit here under my footstool: are ye not then partial in yourselves, and are become judges of evil thoughts? “James also assigned a reason for his words: “Hath not God chosen the poor of this world rich in faith, and heirs of the kingdom which he hath promised to them that love him?”

You have heard the fable of the kind-hearted king, who, while hunting in a forest, found a blind orphaned boy living there like a beast. The boy’s pitiable state touched the king’s heart, and he took him to his home and taught him all that could be learned by the blind. When he reached his twenty-first year, the king, who was also a great physician, restored his sight, and leading him into the palace, presented him to his nobles as his own son, commanding all to give him their honor and love. What lord then dare treat with indifference this adopted child? What brother in the house could despise or maltreat him without offending royalty? How can any Christian man imagine himself above that one in the house of God, no matter how poor he is, or how neglected, when God has adopted him and introduced him into his household of faith? He is a child of the KING; worthy not only to share the best synagogue, if it be his pleasure, but he is to be privileged to sit with the Lamb himself upon the throne.

We are not pleading for a social communism. We are not asking the rich to make social friends of those in whom they find no delight. Such a course might not be profitable, since there would be little of pleasure to either party. But, except the Bible be wrong, and Christ utterly misunderstood, the church of God presents the one place, and the Christianity of Jesus Christ the one plane, where men should meet and forget their differences of station and of cloth, and, despising the blood in their own veins, remember that they are alike bought by the blood of Jesus Christ, and in that blood are made brethren. Doctor Deems is right in declaring that, if any difference is made in escorting people to seats, let it be in favor of the poor. Not because they are poor, but because they are more sensitive, and therefore in need of the more cordial welcome.

Christ was exceedingly careful to warn the Pharisees at this point. One day he was invited to a Pharisee’s house to dinner, and “he put forth a parable to those which were bidden, when he marked how they chose out the chief rooms; saying unto them, When thou art bidden of any man to a wedding, sit not down in the highest room; lest a more honorable man than thou be bidden of him; and he that bade thee and him come and say to thee, Give this man place; and thou begin with shame to take the lowest room. But when thou art bidden, go and sit down in the lowest room; that when he that bade thee cometh, he may say unto thee, Friend, go up higher: then shalt thou have worship in the presence of them that sit at meat with thee. For whosoever exalteth himself shall be abased; and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted.”

Let us not forget God’s custom in choosing men. When he wanted a leader for his people he took Moses, the despised Hebrew babe, and exalted him. When he needed a premier in Egypt he found that person in Joseph, the hated brother. When he wanted a king for the throne of Israel he passed by those of splendid stature, and selected David, the ruddy youth of the field. Henry Van Dyke truly remarks of his conduct: “He has made apostles and saints out of men and women that the world would have thrown away as rubbish; witness Peter, the weak and wayward; Mary Magdalene, the defiled; Zacchseus, the worldly; Thomas, the despondent; Paul, the persecutor and blasphemer.” Who can imagine these early church people making a distinction between the apostles of the faith because they were poor, and setting up chief seats for Nicodemus, Joseph and Lazarus, Mary and Martha, because they were well-to-do? It has often been affirmed, and we fear with some occasion, that one can determine the relative financial standing of the members of a church by studying the map of the ground floor of the building. But no one could have done that in the old First Church at Jerusalem.

Again, the free pew is scriptural because it keeps the church-door open to Jesus Christ. When Christ had finished his epistles to the seven churches of Asia he coneluded by saying: “Behold, I stand at the door, and knock: if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.” To some of us this seems clearly to refer to his second appearance which is “without sin unto salvation.” But those who interpret it as his attitude toward the local institution are often guilty of having practically excluded him by a pew-rental past his means. Do you not recall in that wondrous dream entitled ‘* How Christ Came to Church,” the good man said: “Though there had been misgivings and questionings about our system of pew-rentals... the matter had not come home to me as a really serious question till Christ came to church on that morning. Judging by his dress and bearing, it was evident that were he to become a regular attendant, he could not afford the best pew in the house, and this was distressing to think of, since I knew from Scripture that he has long since been accorded the highest place in heaven, ’ angels and authorities and powers being made subject unto him.’” And is not Jesus Christ a regular attendant at church? If not, God pity the church from which he is absent, and cause us to remember that even touching that church he says: “Behold, I stand at the door and knock.”

Any fair interpretation of the Scripture is authority for the thought that any humble man who looks at the church of Jesus Christ with wistful eyes, and is afraid to enter because its pews are rented and he has not the price, is none other than Jesus Christ standing without and waiting; waiting to be invited to share, or rather, to have a place in his Father’s house. In Victor Hugo’s “Les Miserables “there is a paragraph which ought to profit every church in the land. His good bishop — who is the true Christian of the volume — addresses Jean Valjean, the ex-convict, saying: “You need not tell me who you are. This is not my house; it is the house of Christ. It does not ask any comer whether he has a name, but whether He has an affliction. You are suffering; you are hungry and thirsty; be welcome. And do not thank me; do not tell me that I take you in my house. This is the home of no man, except him who needs an asylum. I tell you, who are a traveler, that you are more at home here than I; whatever is here is yours.” The boasted twentieth-century and Protestant religion is much of it put to positive shame by a speech like that.

One of the most popular books of recent times is Sheldon’s “In His Steps.” Who can ever forget the scene in that First Church when Henry Maxwell finished his sermon on the text: “For even hereunto were ye called: because Christ also suffered for us, leaving us an example, that ye should follow his steps “? The quartet had risen to sing, “ All for Jesus, all my being’s ransomed pow’rs,” when the congregation was startled by a voice, and the next instant a pale-faced fellow was making his way from his place under the gallery to the open space in front of the pulpit, and asking the privilege of speaking. Then he told his story of no work, of having lost his wife, of having sent his little girl to stay with a printer’s family until he could support her. As he went on telling how he had to grapple with poverty, how he had seen his wife die of starvation, he said:” I heard some people singing at a church prayer-meeting the other night:

All for Jesus! All for Jesus!
All my being’s ransomed pow’rs:
All my thoughts and words and doings,
All my days and all my hours!

and I kept wondering, as I sat on the steps outside, what they meant by it? It seems to me there is an awful lot of trouble in the world that somehow would not exist if all the people who sing such songs went and lived them out.

I suppose I do not understand, but what would Jesus do? What do you mean by following in his steps? It seems to me sometimes as if the people in the city churches had good clothes, and nice houses to live in, and money to spend for luxuries, and could go away on summer vacations and all that, while people outside of the churches, thousands of them, I mean, walk the streets for jobs or die in tenement houses, and never have a piano or a picture in the house, and grow up in misery and drunkenness and sin.” At that point he grew paler still, and, lurching forward, he fell heavily to the floor. The services were at an end, but the question remained in Henry Maxwell’s mind, “What would Jesus do?”; and he turned himself about to follow the Master’s steps as never before. You remember the revolutions it wrought. Who can raise this question, “What would Jesus do?” on the subject of pew-rentals without knowing instantly the answer? If Jesus would make them free, do you not shut him out if you put a price upon them? We need to read often the twenty-fifth chapter of Matthew, and remember that in the judgment we shall stand or fall according to our treatment of his lowly friends, for inasmuch as we have done it unto the least of these, we have done it unto him.

The Free Pew Is Successful

It elicits the best financial support. Wherever this plan has been adopted in the church whose spiritual life makes its adoption a necessity, it has solved many financial problems. In illustration think of Spurgeon’s Tabernacle; the Tremont Temple, Boston; Grace Temple, Philadelphia. These are three of the largest institutions of the respective cities, and yet they have existed without pewrentals. Even where the pew-rentals exist nominally they are ordinarily not sufficient for the support of the church, and the balance must be made good by free-will offerings.

Some time ago the “Ram’s Horn” had an article upon this subject, in which Mr. Charles H. Mills, pastor of the Pilgrim Congregational Church, Cleveland, Ohio, told his experience of nine years with a free church. In that time its membership had grown from three hundred to eight hundred and forty-eight. Its gifts had been most generous at home and abroad. It had supported readingroom, gymnasium, recreation-rooms, daily kindergarten, sewing-school, young men’s club, a course of educational lectures and concerts. At Owensboro, Ky., some years ago, Doctor Hale began in the court-house with four hundred people and not a cent of property. These had come out of the leading church in the city, a division having occurred on the question of the church’s duty to amusements, distilling of liquors, operating saloons, etc. At the end of four years they had a membership of eleven hundred and had built a house seating at least twenty-five hundred in the very heart of the city. They had contributed largely to missions at home and abroad, and their entire work had been accomplished apart from pewrentals. When that grand man, George Müller, was called from Teignmouth to Bristol, after days of earnest consideration of the call he replied: “I will accept the call on the condition that the pew-rents shall be abolished.” The eminent success of his work is known the world around, and we believe is praised in heaven.

Again, the free pew gives the greater satisfaction. The objection urged to it that it breaks up family sittings is not evidenced. He would be a blundering usher indeed who paid no attention to having a family sit together, and as far as compatible with the interests of others, in the same place every Sunday. Such an arrangement does provide against offending the poor, putting up a wall in the way of the laboring classes, and worst of all, relegating to the gallery hundreds of men and women who once expended thousands upon God’s cause, but who through poverty have been left too little to pay the price of a pew. In the “Little Masterpieces of American Wit and Humor,” a story is told of Mr. Dickson, a colored barber in a large New England town. One of his customers said: ‘* I believe you are connected with the church in Elm Street? “” No, sah; not at all.” “What, are you not a member of the African Church?” ‘* Not dis year, sah.” “When, and why did you leave their communion?” “Well, I’ll tell you, sah; it was just like dis. I jined de church in good faith; I gave ten dollars toward the stated gospil de first year, and de church people call me ‘Brudder Dickson ‘; de secon’ year my business not so good, and I gib only five dollars. That year the people call me ‘Mr. Dickson.’ Well, sah, de third year I feel berry poor; had sickness in my f ambly; I didn’t gib noffin’ for preachin.’ Well, sah, arter dat they call me * dat old nigger Dickson,’ and I left ’em.” Christ can approve of no condition in a church that would ever make it possible for a man who, in the days of financial success, sacrificed grandly for the cause to surrender his seat in the house of God because in his becoming less able to pay the rental a more prosperous brother purchases it away from him. Think of a church in which the pews are put up and auctioned off to the highest bidder! Yet with this very act we have been familiar. Of transcendent importance is the fact that the free pew is more successful in soul-winning. Let no man imagine that to declare pews free insures the regeneration of those who sit in them. A dead church may declare for what it will, and nothing comes of the declaration. But when the church is moved by the Spirit of Jesus Christ, who so loved the world that he gave his life for it, and in that spirit is willing to make sacrifice of sittings that souls may be reached, God gives such a church success in soul-winning. There is no sanctuary so attractive to the unsaved as the one wherein they find themselves loved, and wherein the people are willing to put themselves out that they may make their acquaintance, and instruct them in the knowledge of the Lord. A cordial handshake has been the beginning of many a man’s salvation, and the sharing of a pew with the stranger presents the very best opportunity of speaking to him about his soul. Pleasant as it is, therefore, for a man to sit with his family on the Sabbath, and desirable also, he should willingly sacrifice this privilege if by so doing he can reach an unsaved man. Think of what it means to him if you lead him to the Lamb of God! Think of what it may mean to his house! Aye, think of what it means to heaven! The human mind has never yet imagined what it means to God when the recording angel writes down a new name in the Lamb’s Book of Life. Do you not recall how when the steamer Atlantic struck ground and went down the message of destruction was telegraphed over the land? On that ill-fated steamer was a man from Detroit, Mich., and from him was received a message which contained but a single word, and yet it thrilled thousands and thousands of the land, for that word was “Saved “! Oh, the joy in his own house! Oh, the rejoicing among his friends and acquaintances there! That is the

word that thrills heaven as no other word known to men or angels can! Throw open your doors and, with outstretched hands and smiling faces, make men welcome in the house of God, and then they may find the way to the heart of God.

The free pew sustains a definite relation to the perennial revival.