One Year'S Record
ONE YEAR'S RECORD
The following illustration of Dr. Gordon was much loved by Mr. Moody.
Very tiny and pale the little girl looked as she stood before those three grave and dignified gentlemen. She had been ushered into the Rev. Dr. Gordon's study, where he was holding counsel with two of his deacons, and now, upon inquiry into the nature. Of her errand, a little shyly preferred the request to be allowed to become a member of his church.
"You are quite too young to join the church," said one of the deacons, "you had better run home, and let us talk to your mother."
She showed no sign of running, however, as her wistful blue eyes traveled from one face to another of the three gentlemen sitting in their comfortable chairs; she only drew a little step nearer to Dr. Gordon. He arose, and with the gentle courtesy that ever marked him, placed her in a small chair close beside himself.
"Now my child, tell me your name, and where you live?'
"Annie Graham, sir, and I live on K_________ Street. I go to your Sundayschool."
"You do; and who is your teacher?"
"Miss B_______ . She is very good to me."
"And you want to join my church?"
The child's face glowed as she leaned eagerly towards him, clasping her hands, but all she said was, "Yes, sir."
"She cannot be more than six years old," said one of the deacons, disapprovingly.
Dr. Gordon said nothing, but quietly regarded the small, earnest face, now becoming a little downcast.
"I am ten years old; older than I look," she said.
"It is not usual for us to admit anyone so young to membership," he said, thoughtfully.
"We never have done so still –
"It may make an undesirable precedent," remarked the other deacon.
The Doctor did not seem to hear, as he asked, "You know what joining the church is, Annie?"
"Yes, sir;" and she answered a few questions that proved she comprehended the meaning of the step she wished to take. She had slipped off her chair, and now stood close to Dr. Gordon's knee.
You said, last Sabbath, sir, that the lambs should be in the fold
"I did," he answered. "It is surely not for us to keep them out. Go home now, my child. I will see your friends and arrange to take you into membership very soon.
The cloud lifted from the child's face, and her expression, as she passed through the door he opened for her, was one of entire peace.
Inquiries made of Annie's Sabbath school teacher proving satisfactory, she was baptized the following week, and, except for occasional information from Miss B., that she was doing well, Dr. Gordon heard no more of her for about a year.
Then he was summoned to her funeral.
It was one of June's hottest days, and as the doctor made his way along the narrow street on which Annie had lived, he wished, for a moment, that he had asked his assistant to come instead of himself, but as he neared the house, the crowd filled him with wonder; progress was hindered, and as perforce he paused for a moment, his eye fell on a crippled lad crying bitterly as he sat on a low doorstep.
"Do you know Annie Graham, my lad?" he asked.
"Know her, is it, sir? Niver a week passed but what she came twice or thrice with a picture or book, mayhap an apple for me, an' its owin' to her an' no clargy at all that I'll ever follow her blessed footsteps to Heaven. She'd read me from her own Bible whiniver she came, an now she's gone there'll be none at all to help me, for mother's dead an' dad's drunk, an' the sunshine's gone from Mike's sky with Annie, sir."
A burst of sobs choked the boy. Dr. Gordon passed on, after promising him a visit soon, making his way through the crowd of tear-stained, sorrowful faces. The doctor came to a stop again in the narrow passageway of the little house. A woman stood beside him drying her fast-falling tears, while a wee child hid his face in her skirts and wept.
"Was Annie a relative of yours?" the doctor asked.
"No, sir; but the blessed child was at our house constantly, and when Bob here was sick she nursed and tended him, and her hymns quieted him when nothing else seemed to do it. It was just the same with all the neighbors. What she's been to us no one but the Lord will ever know, and now she lies there."
Recognized at last, Dr. Gordon was led to the room where the child lay at rest, looking almost younger than when he had seen her in his study a year ago. An old bent woman was crying aloud by the coffin.
"I never thought she'd go afore I did. She used to run in regular to read an'
sing to me every evening, an' it was her talk an' prayers that made a Christian of me. You could a'most go to Heaven on one of her prayers."
"Mother, mother, come home," said a young man, putting his arm around her to lead her away. "You'll see her again.
"I know, I know; she said she'd wait for me at the gate," she sobbed, as she followed him; "but I miss her sore now.
A silence fell on those assembled, and, marvelling at such testimony, Dr. Gordon proceeded with the service, feeling as if there was little more he could say of one whose deeds thus spoke for her. Loving hands had laid flowers all around the child who had lead them. One young girl had placed a dandelion in the small waxen fingers and now stood, abandoned to grief, beside the still form that bore the impress of absolute purity. The service over again and again was the coffin lid waved back by some one longing for one more look, and they seemed as if they could not let her go.
The next day a good-looking man came to Dr. Gordon's house and was admitted into his study.
"I am Annie's uncle, sir," he said simply. "She never rested till she made me promise to join the church, and I've come.
Dr. Gordon sat in the twilight, resting, after his visitor had left. The summer breeze blew in through the windows and his thoughts turned backward and dwelt on what his little parishioner had done.
"Truly a marvelous record for one year. It is well said, Their angels do ever behold His face."
Chapter 24
Revival Conventions
In the early days of Mr. Moody's evangelistic experience, frequent revival conventions were held, when questions were asked by the people and answered by the great leader, as a result of which hundreds of Christian workers were instructed in the special conduct of evangelistic services, and many ministers went out to do the work which they felt themselves before unable to perform. No wiser counsel was ever given. I remember in one of these conventions, Mr. Moody spoke as follows:
WHAT IS EVANGELISTIC SERVICE?
"Some one said to me, 'What do you mean by evangelistic services? Is not all service evangelistic? And what do you mean by preaching the Gospel? Are not all services in the churches and all meetings preaching the Gospel?' "By no means. There is the greatest difference. There are really three services in every church; at least there ought to be; there is worshipping God; this is not preaching the Gospel at all. We come to the house of God to worship at times when we meet around the Lord's table. Then there is teaching, that is building up the church, but it is not preaching the Gospel. Then there is the proclaiming the good news to the world, that is, to the unsaved; that is really Gospel preaching. Now the question we have before us is how can these services be conducted to make them profitable? Well, I should say first of all, you must make them interesting. If people go to sleep in church, they certainly need to be roused up, and if one method fails, try another, but I think we ought to use our common sense in all this work. We talk a great deal about this, but I think it is about the least sense we have, especially in the Lord's work. This preaching to empty seats don't pay. If people do not come to hear us, let us go where they are, and I have come to this conclusion, that if we are going to have successful Gospel meetings, we have got to have a little more life in them. Life is found in singing new hymns. For instance, I know some churches that have been singing about a dozen hymns for the last twenty years, such hymns as "Rock of Ages" "Jesus, Lover of my Soul." These hymns are always good, but we want a variety. We want new hymns as well as old ones.