Pentecostal Possibilities or "The Story of My Life"
by Milton Lorenzo (M. L.) Haney
CHAPTER 20
Abingdon
In the fall of 1850 we were stationed at Abingdon, Ills. We had no parsonage, but built one before leaving that charge. Many in that locality were related to each other by marriage and blood relationship. Up to that time there was much love and harmony among the people, though that is not usually the case where people are so closely related. Those were days of beautiful simplicity, and a wide range of genuine love. Church fellowship was a real inheritance, and when the Lord's people came together to pray, something occurred. A high order of social life existed, without mixture of questionable or sinful amusements. Christian people were happy in God, and had no need of borrowing life from the other kingdom. We had no feuds to settle, nor church quarrels to adjust. The people generally believed the gospel, and the whole community usually went to church. Salaries of preachers in those times were not so tempting as now, but the preachers got more out of life and had greater success in their ministry. I received ninety-five dollars and some cents in the first and second years of my pastorate, and about one hundred in the third year. Having married, one's salary was raised to two hundred.
But the hospitality of those times was in contrast with the present, when people delighted in many little ways to help their preachers. They spent more time among the people, and it was the delight of their brethren to have it so. There were two Methodist churches in the city, the one the M. P. [Methodist Protestant] and the other the M. E. [Methodist Episcopal], and they were rival bodies, with some sprinkle of jealousy between. The M. P. was the leading church for a time, but the old church was on the up hill grade. This created a necessity for the M. P. preachers at times to preach against the old church's polity.
Brother S. was the pastor of that church while we were there. The Lord had given us a gracious revival and Bro. S. held a long meeting without much fruit. So he announced a series of lectures on "Episcopal Methodism." He was a brother of years and able as a preacher. I had but recently graduated in the Conference course of study, which embraced the question of church polity, and had all the books in my library. Bro. S. made statements which he had obtained from others which I knew to be incorrect. I thought him honest, but had the documents to prove many of his statements without foundation. So I took notes on each of his four lectures.
On closing the last lecture he said he would be happy, if any wished to respond to what he had said, to have them do so now, and it seemed the whole crowd turned and looked at me! I arose and said I had heard with interest the whole series of the brother's lectures, and would review them in my church the next Thursday night. I did but little except to restate his points and bring documentary evidence to show them untrue. The character of the evidence was such that it could not be intelligently questioned. Poor Bro. S. had depended on loose statements which had been repeated for a generation, and he supposed they were true. He sat before me and scratched his head violently at times. On ceasing I gave opportunity for reply, and he said he would respond to Bro. Haney in his church at such a date. He then gave two lectures, to which I responded in another, and God gave special evidence of His approval, and poured His spirit on us, and the end was a great triumph for the truth.
Father Swarts was the founder of Abingdon, and a beautiful old man. In earlier years he had met with some severe trial in the M. E. Church, and became a Protestant Methodist. His family were all in my church, and his son Benjamin, a young M. E. preacher, like myself. I prized the old man's friendship, but feared a sad break between us. Ben came in again and again, and insisted that I should not turn to the right or left to please his father. After the battle was ended, I went with some trembling to see Father Swarts.
He received me very cordially and after a moment's silence said: "Well, you have given my preacher a good thrashing, but he deserved it all, for he had no business to attack other churches." Before I left his house he said: "I have a hundred dollars I want to give to the cause of missions, and I have more confidence in the missionary work of your church than mine; so I want you to take charge of it and report it to Conference." The old saint went to glory not long after, but willed before his death one hundred dollars to the M. E. Missionary Society, to be paid annually for a term of years, and so it was done.
This occurrence gave the impression that I was apt in debate, and I was called for, but never responded. Debates were then common and popular, but God had not called me to be a debater. In the two years we were at Abingdon much occurred that cannot be called up, but we trust many will have a happy eternity as the result.
Our first child was born and buried there. He lived fifteen months and became to us exceedingly interesting. I felt from his birth that he was the Lord's property and recognized him as such. When it came to us that he was dying, I found no rebellion to the will of God, and had no disposition to call him back; but his presence and person had been a great comfort to our home. He was all we had and heart pain was not wanting when he went away. As our brothers were letting his sacred little body down into its place of rest, I stood near by, and God threw a light into that little grave above the brightness of the sun which to this day has utterly robbed the grave of its terrors!
Methodist camp meetings were glorious in those days, and we had two at Abingdon. There were people on the banks of Cedar Creek, of the baser sort, who did what they could to disturb us under cover of the night but some of them got converted and we were thus paid for all that it cost us. Old John Kase had a son and namesake, who was much like his father. The father was wicked and so was John, and when the latter was nearly twenty years old he made his father much trouble. In despair one day he sent me word if I would get John converted, he would give me the best hog on his place! He had about the finest hogs in the country, too. I sent him back word that I would do all I could for John. Camp meeting was not far away, and I kept praying for John, as well as giving him a friendly talk occasionally.
For the first days of the camp there was an unusual struggle for victory, but it came. We requested that a band of brothers go south of the grounds, and a band of sisters north, to pray by themselves in the woods. That was a special resort in those times, when devils had to be driven by the prayer of faith. Each of these bands heard from heaven about the same time, and when full-fledged victory came they made for the camp, both wings reaching it simultaneously with tidings from eternity.
There was a sweep of Divine power which was marvelous. Three strong young men who were sinners, indeed, fell to the ground as though shot through the heart. I think neither of them could have risen to save his life. One of these was young John Kase! There were others also who were prostrated. Three men ran westward from the ground to get away from God, but on reaching a log two hundred yards away they tumbled down and cried for mercy. Hearing them later, we went out and prayed with them till their cries of agony were turned into praise. Another sinner fancied if he could get beyond a high fence to the north he could still hold on to his sins, but he fell from the fence and cried: "God have mercy on my soul," and brothers hearing him, went out and brought him in shouting!
The young men who were prostrate in camp came out gloriously, and young Kase hastened to confess to his father what a wicked boy he had been, and, begging his pardon, told him God had converted his soul. There was such a change in John's behavior at home that in a few days the old man sent me word to come up and get my hog! Of course, I did not go; but I have always thought it would have been nice if he had brought it down.
There is no getting away from the fact that in those days the Methodists had a simplicity of faith in God for Divine conviction of impenitent men, far exceeding our present standard. There was less of the human, and more of the Divine, in salvation work than now. Failures were the exception then; they are the rule now, and faith, with us, has so often been wounded that it is faint and dying. Sin was then treated as an enormity, and heavy blows were continuously dealt it. Now, it is treated largely as a misfortune, if treated at all. Repentance with fallen men is the great Bible pre-requisite, and Methodist people had reached it by this door; Methodists now but rarely find the door! Infidelity was rampant everywhere in gospel lands when Methodism began. In seventy years from the beginning infidelity hardly dared to breathe; now it stalks through gospel lands like a pestilence!
We figure as to astounding numbers, and boast of wealth, and learning, church edifices, and culture, while skeptics find their way into our pulpits, and unitarian subtleties are tugging at the very vitals of the church. There is a remedy for all this, but it is not found in the strength of numbers, nor wealth, nor costly churches, nor universities, nor keeping up with the times, but in a complete return to our doctrinal and experience centres, from our Bishops down, by genuine repentance, real heart confessions to God, and man, till the pride of our hearts is utterly broken, the world is conquered, and Christ enthroned within.
We had taken in the little town of Lewisville, and had a glorious revival there. Our church building was not large enough for the revival meeting, but it went on with power. One night a shoemaker, who had lost a limb, by the distress of his soul was forced to come to the altar of God. He had only been there a brief time when his wife, who was a French Catholic, rushed through the crowd like a wild woman, and, seizing her husband undertook to drag him away. I was in search of sinners in the congregation when informed of what was taking place. Coming in sight of her, I found that failing to bring him by force, she resorted to pounding him with her fists and pulling his hair. Still the dear man held his ground and kept crying for mercy from God.
I was a young man, and a preacher, and naturally shrank from contact with so furious a woman. So I requested "Uncle" Peter Nelson, a stable and courageous old man, to go with another brother and deal with her. In a little while he returned, the sweat standing on his brow, saying: "Brother Haney, I can't do anything with that woman." On looking in her direction I observed that she was alternately pounding her husband and striving to lift him by the hair. Suddenly it occurred to me to try priestly methods. "Madam," I demanded, "release this man immediately and return to your seat, or I will ask God to kill you!" The lion instantly became a lamb and the woman resumed her seat. Reflecting people will differ as to the morality of my course in this instance, but it was effectual and the husband was gloriously converted!
Many years afterward I was at the Gilson camp meeting when a nice looking lady of thirty or thirty-five years introduced herself to me as Mrs._____, and said: "I knew you when I was a child, but, of course, you would not remember me, but you will remember preaching at Lewisville years ago." I assented. "Well," she added, "do you remember the shoemaker who was converted in your meeting?" I said I did. "Well, I am his daughter." Her father and mother were both then living, and the family grown. I asked if they were religious. "Yes; mother got beautifully saved, and we children are all converted. Father never gave up his religion for a moment, and through his prayers and godly life we have all been brought to Christ!" Glory be to God!