Pentecostal Possibilities or "The Story of My Life"
by Milton Lorenzo (M. L.) Haney
CHAPTER 43
Ministry in La Salle
In the fall of 1865 we were stationed at La Salle, Ills., which, at the time, was thought to be the most wicked city in the state. Drunkenness abounded, and robberies were common, with more or less of murder. At that time it was the most profane place in which I had ever lived. It had been a Roman Catholic center from the beginning, and had a very meager Protestant influence to counteract its corruptions. We had three little Protestant churches, in the city--the Baptist, Congregationalist and Methodist. They barely lived, and their spirituality was painfully affected by the all-pervading drouth which reigned in the city. The Roman Church is affected favorably when there is a strong Protestant power to counteract its immoralities, but where it is alone, as the controlling power, in city, or state, where is the city, or where the state, or kingdom, which it rules, that is not fearfully depraved? If its wickedness in the Philippines, for the past century, could be unearthed and laid open to the gaze of civilization, it would be simply appalling.
The Catholic opposition to Protestantism in La Salle, was just as wide, and deep as it dared to be, and not a man of us could have had a place for the soles of his feet, but under the protection of the law. Their children marked every Protestant child, and their boys, in the Brothers' school, right under the eyes of their teachers, would throw stones and mud at the Protestant churches. My church door was battered with the stones they threw against it. I saw them do it. An army of Catholic boys usually came by my church on Sabbath mornings. The Congregational Church was just across the street. We were coming to church one Sabbath morning, and met the head of the column near the church. The door was open, and I saw a boy violently throw a stone through it and up the aisle, and then run but he ran right into my hands, and I bent him double and administered a castigation that he did not soon forget. He begged lustily, and promised never to do it again, but I kept right on till I was certain a lasting impression had been made on him! The next day I went to the ruling priest, and told him I had risked my life for the rights of an American citizen, and if he did not see to correcting this evil, I would. And from that day we received decent treatment. I carried more lead and iron in me at the close of three years of war, than I could carry now; but they had always been governed by brute force and knew no other way to be governed. It was not very unusual, as I was told, for a priest to go into a saloon with a horsewhip, and whip a grown man out to the street; and that, too, when some good Catholic was the keeper of the saloon, with the approval of that same priest. There are people in the Catholic Church who are saved, in spite of her corruption in doctrine, and practice, but not by them. I have often thought of poor Mag, an Irish girl there, who helped my wife, and became attached to us. She saw in our family religion that we had something she never had, and was really a seeker after God, but always through Catholic channels. As Lent was coming on, she said: "Mr. Haney, when Lent comes I will show you how to fast!" In the opening of Lent she said one day: "I believe I will be saved by the time Lent is through." After Lent was over I asked her if she believed she was now saved, and she honestly answered, "No." O, how many millions are held in bondage by that old and fallen Church of Rome.
God gave me souls in this city each year, but I carried an inner sense that He wanted me elsewhere. The first year a large number of sinners were converted, most of whom made good Christians. Among them was a little Englishman, who was generally called "Tommy." He had been raised under Methodist influences in the old country, but was sadly demoralized from strong drink. He became convicted of his lost condition, but was all the more rebellious. The prospect became terrible before Tom's soul. A meeting of much power was in progress, and some of his comrades were yielding. As time for night services was near, Tom started for the saloon, but became mystified some way and wandered about till he found himself at the door of the Methodist Church.
His wicked heart rose up, and he swore he would go to the saloon, and, turning, he wandered as before, but found himself, that time, on the steps of the church with a power impelling him to go in. We were singing when he entered, and, being less than one-third of the way to the pulpit, he cried out with agony and tumbled down in the aisle. I suspended the preaching and went down to where he was. The whole assembly as moved by his cries for help, but Jesus came, and he was saved. Tommy's liquor, tobacco, profanity, and Sabbath breaking, all went together, and he became a very zealous, earnest man of God. We had a few beautiful specimens of entire sanctification in this meeting. Bro. Young, Sister Garfield and Bro. Gibson were among them. These held up my hands to the last, though the battle, from the sin side, was fearful. The most of the church followed me to the borders of the land, but when in sight of Canaan they sank back with a will. These became so unspiritual that they persecuted the new converts because they were in advance of them. There has always been a battle between holiness and sin, and it will never be otherwise.
We had a union meeting between the three churches Baptist, Congregationalist and Methodist, and a part of the time were led by a Lutheran minister, who, in Iowa had stumbled into full salvation. His name was Smith and he was a glorious minister. He insisted in preaching on the streets, and the Catholics would pelt him with hard snowballs, and hit him in the face while preaching but he would wipe off the snow and say: "The Lord be gracious to these dear men!" and go on as though nothing had occurred. I don't think he would have lifted a hand if they had beaten him to death. I usually prayed in the opening of his street services, and loved him greatly. One day as we were going to the place of meeting he said to me: "I expect four or five Irishmen will seize me some of these days and drag me down in a cellar and give me an awful beating. I responded: "No they won't." There was a stiffness in my tone which alarmed him, and he stopped, looking at me pitifully saying: "Why, Bro. Haney! You would not defend me, would you?" I answered: "Bro. Smith, in a case like this I would consider myself equal to five Irishmen!" I had not yet gotten far enough from the war to have seen him abused, with my hands hanging down! I doubt whether I would have then attempted to defend myself, but I had not grace sufficient to have seen him beaten by a mob. We had victory, but my church, except a few, soon settled back into their old ruts, and my soul used to go up on the Little Vermillion and wail among the rocks before God. I went and preached to sinners on the south side of the Illinois River, and a good work was done.
My friend, Archibald Long who was converted the same night and at the same mourners' bench with me, then lived on a farm six miles north of La Salle. His first wife had died, and he had married a nice Congregational girl, a school teacher. But Archie was dissatisfied about her religious condition, for she really had never been converted. Archie said to me one day: "If you will make a Holy Ghost Methodist out of my wife I will give you the best horse on my place!" I replied "All right, Bro. Long." She became a great friend of my wife, and we gave her special attention, until finally she camped with us at a little camp meeting, and when we brought her back she was so far in advance of Archie, religiously, that he hardly knew what to do. She afterwards proved herself to be a genuine Christian. Dear Archie died, and went to glory years ago, leaving his wife to breast the storms alone, but she has educated her children, and still lives in the city of Evanston. I went a distance to preach his funeral sermon, and myself was born of God in his father's house. When these feet strike the gold-paved streets of the Holy City I shall see Archie again. His sons and daughters are walking in his footsteps, and, to the end, I trust, will be worthy of their sire.
When I came to face another revival season with the experience I had had with these people, I determined not again to attempt to pull sinners over the head of a dead membership, as I had done before. Such are glad to get additions to the church to make it financially stronger, so as to make lighter their own burdens, but the less religion the newcomers have, the better! In outposts my ministry was blessed. In camps God had graciously used me, and when helping others in evangelical meetings I was strikingly successful. Late in the season, and in my third year at La Salle, I visited my mother, who was at Bushnell, in view of returning to my charge for the Sabbath. While getting ready to return, she was taken violently sick and I was compelled to remain with her. The pastor at Bushnell had told me there was a condition of things in his church which made a revival well nigh impossible, and he did not intend to have a continued meeting. He pressed me to preach for him on the Sabbath, and I told him I should have to remain with mother, and if he thought best I would preach for him each evening. He said he would be glad to have me, but he did not expect that souls could be reached. I preached and the Lord broke down opposition, and melted away the barriers, and a gracious work followed. It seemed so everywhere, when I gave myself to that sort of work. I mention these facts to indicate how, in many ways, God was leading me to quit the pastorate, and give myself wholly to the work of an evangelist. Would to God I had more quickly entered it, and more determinately followed it.
On returning to my pastorate, I told the Lord I would open a week's meeting for my church, and if I could lead them out into light I would go on, and work for the conversion of sinners; if they would not be led beyond certain points, I should take it as His will that I should not have another protracted meeting in that city. The first and second days I was hopeful, as I led carefully, and lovingly along, but before the week ended when I had come to the old balking place, they halted as before! A letter came from Thomas Crowder, who had attended my Springfield meeting, urging the great importance of me holding a revival meeting in Williamsville. I had not read the letter half through before I saw the hand of God in it. My people were much behind in my support, and I going into debt to meet the claims of my family, which was another finger pointing that I was out of place. So on Sabbath I announced that I should be absent the next Sabbath, but would send them a supply, and left for Williamsville.
On the cars going I covenanted with God if He would give me special success in saving souls, and a marked increase in my income of money, I would take this as a token from Him, that I should, from that time, devote my whole time to evangelism. It is always a serious thing for a Methodist preacher to leave his work in the middle of the year, and ought to be so; but I said I would leave all that with Him, and the support of my family as well. That I would leave the whole financial question with God, saying nothing about money for myself.
Before the second Sabbath had come we were in a flaming revival, and souls were bounding out into light in great numbers. I told the brethren I would have to return to La Salle for that Sabbath, but would come back on Monday. Not a word had I said about money but I was to take the train that night, so I saw a brother flying around with a hat through the congregation, and on returning, he poured out more money than I had seen for three, if not four, months! I told God I would keep the contract, and on Sunday announced to my people that they would have to get a supply for their pulpit, as I should, probably, not be able to preach there again. Of course, this appeared to them as a very erratic movement. One brother, in the class meeting, quoted a part of the tenth chapter of John, showing that I as a "hireling," and "leaving the sheep," etc., which I received in silence. He was one of the sheep who would not eat, then, for two years and more, I had labored to feed him.
God sent a Bro. Jones right in there the next Sabbath, who was out of work, and wanted the place, exceedingly, and they greatly preferred him to me, because he did not preach holiness. It is due Bro. Jones to say he was a good man, but badly mixed mentally about holiness, and at times had opposed our teaching. At a subsequent time he saw the truth, and embraced it and, so far as I know, was its pronounced advocate till death. Blessed be God!
When Conference came, the question was asked: "Is there anything against Bro. Haney?" And my elder answered: "Nothing!" not even mentioning the fact of me leaving La Salle. During this time the General Conference had met, and La Salle had been transferred from the Central Illinois Conference, to the Rock River, so I wrote Dr. Hitchcock to ask for a certificate of location for me, which would leave me free to go where I wished. And now I went into the field of God's appointment where I ought to have been years before.