CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 4
During the week Norman received numerous letters commenting on the absence of the account of the prizefight from the News.
Dear Sir—I want a journal that is up to the times, progressive, and enterprising, supplying the public demand at all points. The recent freak of your paper in refusing to print the account of the famous contest at the Resort has decided me finally to change my paper. Please discontinue it.
From one of Norman’s old friends, an editor of a daily in a nearby town:
Dear Ed.—What is this sensation you have given the people of your burg? What new policy have you taken up? Hope you don’t intend to try the “Reform Business” through the avenue of the press. It’s dangerous to experiment much along that line. Take my advice and stick to the enterprising modern methods you have made so successful for the News.
My Dear Mr. Norman,
I hasten to write you a note of appreciation for the evident carrying out of your promise. It is a splendid beginning, and no one feels the value of it more than I do. I know something of what it will cost you, but not all.
Your pastor,
Henry Maxwell
One other letter he opened immediately after reading this:
Dear Sir—At the expiration of my advertising limit, you will do me the favor not to continue it as you have done heretofore. I enclose check for payment in full and shall consider my account with your paper closed after date.
It was signed by one of the largest dealers in tobacco in the city. His usual ad was a column of conspicuous advertising, for a very large price.
After a moment he took up a copy of his paper and looked through the advertising columns. He had not considered this before. As he glanced over the columns, he could not escape the conviction that his Master could not permit some of them in his paper.
As a member of a church and a respected citizen, he had incurred no special censure because the saloon men advertised in his columns. No one thought anything about it. It was all legitimate business. He was simply doing what every other businessman in Raymond did. And it was one of the best-paying sources of revenue. What would the paper do if it cut these out? Could it live? That was the question. But—was that the question after all? “What would Jesus do?” That was the question he was answering, or trying to answer, this week. Edward Norman asked it honestly, and after a prayer for help and wisdom, he asked Clark to come into the office.
“Clark,” said Norman, speaking slowly and carefully, “I’ve been looking at our advertising columns and have decided to dispense with some of the matter as soon as the contracts run out. I wish you would notify the advertising agent not to solicit or renew the ads that I have marked here.”
He handed the paper with the marked places over to Clark, who took it and looked over the columns with a very serious air.
“This will mean a great loss to the News. How long do you think you can keep this sort of thing up?”
“Clark, do you think if Jesus were the editor and proprietor of a daily paper in Raymond, He would permit advertisements of whiskey and tobacco in it?”
“Well—no—I don’t suppose He would. But newspapers can’t be run on any such basis.”
“Why not?” asked Norman quietly.
“Because they will lose more money than they make, that’s all!” Clark spoke out with an irritation that he really felt.
“We shall certainly bankrupt the paper with this sort of business policy.”
“Do you think so?” Norman asked the question not as if he expected an answer, but simply as if he were talking with himself. After a pause he said, “You may direct Marks to do as I have said. I cannot believe that by any kind of reasoning we could reach a conclusion justifying our Lord in the advertisement of whiskey and tobacco in a newspaper. I feel a conviction in regard to these that cannot be silenced.”
Clark went back to his desk feeling as if he had been in the presence of a very peculiar person. What would become of business if this standard were adopted? It would upset every custom and introduce endless confusion. It was simply foolishness. It was downright idiocy.
When Edward Norman came down to the office Friday morning, he was confronted with the usual program for the Sunday morning edition. The News was one of the few evening papers in Raymond to issue a Sunday edition, and it had always been remarkably successful financially. It had always been welcomed by all the subscribers, church members and all, as a Sunday morning necessity.
Edward Norman now put to himself the question, “What would Jesus do?” If He were editor of a paper, would He deliberately plan to put into the homes of all the church people and Christians of Raymond such a collection of reading matter on the one day in the week that ought to be given up to something better and holier? Taking everything into account, would Jesus edit a Sunday morning paper? No matter whether it paid. That was not the question. As a matter of fact, the Sunday News paid so well that it would be a direct loss of thousands of dollars to discontinue it.
He was honestly perplexed by the question. So much was involved in the discontinuance of the Sunday edition that for the first time he almost decided to refuse to be guided by the standard of Jesus’ probable action. As he sat there surrounded by the usual quantity of material for the Sunday edition, he reached some definite conclusions. And among them was a determination to call in the force of the paper and frankly state his motive and purpose.
He sent word for all his employees to come into the mailing room. The men came in curiously and perched around on the tables and counters.
“I called you in here to let you know my further plans for the News. I understand very well that you consider some things I have already done as very strange. I wish to state my motive in doing what I have done.”
Here he told the men what he had already told Clark, and they stared as Clark had done and looked as painfully conscious.
“Now, in acting on this standard of conduct, I have reached a conclusion which will, no doubt, cause some surprise.
“I have decided that the Sunday morning edition of the News shall be discontinued after next Sunday’s issue. I shall state in that issue my reasons for discontinuing. In order to make up to the subscribers the amount of reading matter they may suppose themselves entitled to, we can issue a double number on Saturday, as is done by many evening papers that make no attempt at a Sunday edition. I am convinced that from a Christian point of view our Sunday morning paper has done more harm than good. I do not believe that Jesus would be responsible for it if He were in my place today. It will take some trouble to arrange the details caused by this change with the advertisers and subscribers. That is for me to look after. So far as I can see, the loss will fall on myself. Neither the reporters nor the pressmen need make any particular changes in their plans.”
He looked around the room and no one spoke. He was struck for the first time in his life with the fact that in all the years of his newspaper life, he had never had the force of the paper together in this way. Would Jesus do that?
The vague picture that came up in the mailing room would not fade away when he had gone into his office and the men had gone back to their places with wonder in their looks and questions of all sorts on their tongues as they talked over the editor’s remarkable actions.
Clark came in and had a long, serious talk with his chief, almost reaching the point of resigning his place. Norman guarded himself carefully. Every minute of the interview was painful to him, but he felt more than ever the necessity of doing the Christlike thing. Clark was a very valuable man. It would be difficult to fill his place.
“Mr. Norman, I don’t understand you. You are not the same man this week that I always knew before.”
“I don’t know myself either, Clark. But I was never more convinced of final success and power for the paper. Will you stay with the News?”
Clark hesitated a moment and finally said yes.