The building itself is a testimonial to the effectiveness of sincere prayer. The Temple and the halls in the lower story, as it now stands, are far beyond the dreams of that little company of earnest worshipers who, in 1880, hesitatingly and embarrassed, began to build the small church at the corner of Berks and Mervine streets. They had no wealthy or influential friends. They had but little money or property; they could pray, and that they did do unceasingly. Any man who tries to describe or explain fully how it came about that the Temple was built becomes bewildered in the complications, unless he covers the whole question by saying, "The Lord did it." In six years after the small church was completed the Temple was begun on Broad Street.
For seven or eight years after its construction the Temple was a Christian Mecca to which pilgrims seemed to come from all parts of the earth to kneel there in prayer. One Good Friday night, which was observed quite generally as a season of fasting and prayer, the writer entered by the side door the Temple at two o'clock in the morning, and in the dim light of two small gas jets, always left burning, he saw scores of people scattered through the church. Why that church had such a fascination for or preference with earnest seekers for the prayer-answering God none may explain. All were kneeling separately in silent prayer. As they passed in and out there were in the line, going and coming, Chinamen, Europeans, Orientals, and Americans from distant states. Different denominations, Protestant, Catholic, Jew, colored and white, were often represented among the individual worshipers. They also came any night in the week at any hour and prayed silently for a while and then went silently out. The church was not locked, night or day, for fifteen years. People sought the place when they sought to find a locality which was especially near to the Lord. It may be that any place is as near to God as any other; and many think it only a sentiment, superstitious and foolish, to esteem one place above another in matters of effective prayer. But there does stand out the fact that, for some good reason, our Saviour did choose to pray in special localities, and his devout followers do now feel more deeply the soul's communion with God in certain favorable places. Why the Baptist Temple had such worship as a sentimental matter brings forward the facts that the graves of the loved, the home of childhood, the trysting places, the old fireplace, or the churches where sainted parents worshiped are influential because of the suggestions which come with sacred memories. That fact is a strong agency in the awakening of tender and sacred emotions. But the Baptist Temple was new and could lay claim to none of those associations. Men and women with no religious habits, and some seemingly without devout inclinations, testified decidedly that whenever they visited the building they felt that they had entered into an atmosphere of special spiritual and sacred power. One soldier of the English army wrote an interesting letter in 1897, saying: "I do not recall any such impression before. I went into the church alone out of curiosity to look at its architectural design. But the moment I entered the side aisle I felt an indescribable pressure which made me desire to pray. I hurried out to the street to escape the solemn impression. But twice since then I have been in the auditorium and each time some power seemed pressing me down to my knees." Whether that influence was the act of the Holy Ghost or not cannot be proven by any known formula of human reasoning, and hence it remains, as most of such questions do, a matter of faith. Some believe it was a divine presence which made itself felt there, and other good men do not believe the conditions were in any way unusual or unnatural. So many persons with uncontrolled imaginations, and others with their mental faculties weakened or distorted, often reported the most improbable visions and absurd revelations. Such characters, half insane or wholly deranged, testified in favor of Jesus to his face, and such have ever been present since in every genuinely spiritual movement. They would do less harm, of course, if they should declaim against him. So it was, and is, at the Baptist Temple. Those inconsistent, deranged advocates of religion did often drive away permanently into the ranks of unbelievers the most sincere investigators. But a calm review of the testimonies concerning the occurrences which followed so clearly the petitions they offered in the Temple seems overwhelmingly to establish the claim, now held by so many thousand people, that the results of the prayers were but a cause and natural effect, as the prayers and results were infallibly related.
It is not claimed here, however, that the place had more influence with man or Christ than other places have had, or that any church or cathedral may be as sacred as Gethsemane or as the Mount of Transfiguration. The plain facts are recorded here with great caution and with a determination to keep conservatively within the truth and draw no unreasonable conclusions. It is a true statement, known to all the community, that many thousands of people have sought to pray in the Temple, believing that the boon their hearts desired would be more sure to be sent if they asked for it within the Temple walls. Many persons have attended the church services on the Sabbath who have been so deep in prayer that they were unconscious of the music or the preaching. We must reassert that this fact is not recorded here to sustain any idea that the Temple is a sacred place above many other churches, cathedrals, and holy places, but to sustain the opinion that there are places more sacred than others to certain people, and that burdened hearts and minds would act wisely if they sought some such place when the answer to their prayer seems especially vital.
Chapter II
How a Church Was Built by Prayer
IN 1886 the small church at Mervine and Berks streets in the northern section of Philadelphia was crowded at every service. Children were turned away from every session of the Bible school, and tickets were issued a week in advance for the preaching services. The idea of moving to some larger place was discussed, as it was impossible to enlarge the building where it stood, because of the streets on three sides. Under those circumstances the people began to pray. A voluntary committee canvassed the small band of church members, asking each to pray for an opening to a larger work. It is often thought to be an easy thing to promise to pray for a person or for a cause. The promise to pray is too often made carelessly, and disinterested auditors often feel relieved of all responsibility when, instead of a collection, they are let off with a request to pray for the advocated cause. But a sincere promise to pray for a cause carries with it the sincere purpose to work and to give self-sacrificingly. To say, "We do not ask for your money, but only that you pray for us," is a half-hypocritical request, because a real prayer can ascend only from a soul intent on doing. To agree to pray is a hearty promise also to do all in one's power to work with the Lord. Only the hearty worker can really pray. "The people had a mind to work," said Nehemiah, and God, seeing their zeal, responded to their appeal. The Lord answered in a way absolutely unforeseen. The salvation of the world cost a great sacrifice, and everywhere we see the results of a mysterious law that some must die that others may live, and that real happiness is ever gained at the cost of suffering.
A little child in Philadelphia opened the gates of the Temple by going down through death. She had been unable to get into the overcrowded Bible school one Sunday, and she began to save her pennies to help secure some larger place. Little Hattie May Wyatt, living in a home near the church, was chosen of God to convey his answer to the pleadings of that church. How little could the afflicted parents realize what a great work their sweet, prattling Hattie was to do in her short life. When the sweet, pale face lay in the coffin amid the flowers and tears, her pocketbook, containing fifty-seven cents which she had saved, was handed to the minister. She was the messenger of Christ on earth before she became one in heaven! That fifty-seven cents was a sacred treasure, and at the next church meeting prayers went up to God, asking direction how to invest the first gift toward the larger accommodations. Providentially, the subject of the Scripture text was the narrative of the little child with his five barley loaves and two little fishes (John vi). What can Christ do with the gift of a little child? What can the spirit of God do with the seed of an oak? One patriarch led in prayer and earnestly asked the Lord to "take these few pennies and build for us a temple." There were some in the assembly who, like the disciples at Galilee, said, "What can this little supply do among so many?" But the most part seemed inspired by the Holy Spirit with a faith that was immovable. The Lord then put a thought into the mind of Mr. John Baer, who owned a lot of land on the corner of Broad and Berks streets, to suggest to a member of the church that, as the people needed larger quarters, they ought to buy his lot and erect there a larger church. Mr. Baer did not know then that the church had only fifty-seven cents and that the church building they then occupied was still heavily mortgaged. Another church member heard of Mr. Baer's remark and, with the assurance of a faith unshakable, told Mr. Baer that if he would take fifty-seven cents as the first payment he felt sure the church would purchase it. Mr. Baer (a devout man) said that he would cheerfully accept the terms and that he would also not only give back the fifty-seven cents, but would contribute one thousand dollars toward the first payment on the lot.
The church then purchased the lot and held another prayer meeting to determine the second time what to do with the Wyatt fifty-seven cents. It was unanimously decided to organize a "Wyatt Mite Society" to invest the money. There were to be fifty-seven children in the society, and each was to invest one of the pennies so as to secure the largest possible amount for the new church. It seems almost miraculous that wherever a child tried to sell the penny not one would buy it after hearing the story, but nearly all did give a liberal donation. One lady gave fifteen hundred dollars. Finally, the pennies all came back, were put in a coin frame, and kept as a sacred souvenir. Then joyful enthusiasm seized upon the people and hurried them along in many different enterprises for raising money. One Sabbath the pastor was overpersuaded to exchange with Doctor Pierce of Mount Holly, and the joyful people presented the pastor, on his return, with a subscription list of ten thousand dollars. But to that account the practical and critical business man can answer that in any enterprise enthusiasm, hard work, and economy secure success almost invariably. So that even the matter of raising one hundred and nine thousand dollars by a people, all poor, industrious persons, may not be absolutely convincing to the skeptic who questions the personal interference of God in answer to the call of his children. But there was another phase of the history of that campaign which seems to be absolutely unaccountable on any other hypothesis but the direct and special interference of superhuman intelligence.
The number seven! It is called "a sacred number"; but why it has been credited with its peculiar significance is, perhaps, the effect of its mention so often in the Bible. The various theories, reasonable and fanciful, for the sacredness of the number seven need not be rehearsed in a record of simple facts like these which this account preserves. But the daily appearance of the number seven in the evangelistic history of the Grace Church through the five years and two months before the large Temple was completed has never been explained by any solution other than by accrediting it to some power or law above the normal. The "five years' meetings" were only the usual meetings of the small church and no evangelistic or unusual endeavors were used, nor were any special methods tried. Evangelists of noted power sometimes addressed the church or gave sermons at the church in connection with some convention or association, but none of those instrumentalities seemed to affect the answers to the prayers of the people. The church sessions were simple, practical, social, and fully democratic. But the prayers were full of faith and feeling and were brief and direct. One evening, in a meeting held in a small basement room, there were seven young people, strangers to one another, who stood up at the invitation to confess Christ. Each one stated that he had come under a strange and irresistible impulse unaccountable to him. Each asked the people to pray for his soul. That was the opening of the continuous stream of seven new converts each week for five years. That repetition of the number seven was not especially noticed until it had been repeated through several weeks. Then the people began to expect it, and during the active enterprises connected with the building of the new Temple it had a powerful effect on the courage and faith of that small company. As the years came and went with no change in that weekly number of fresh seekers after God, a feeling of awe held the worshipers to such an extent that when the seventh man or woman arose to come forward a deep sigh passed through the congregation. Sometimes the leader of the meeting paused or asked for "the hesitating one" if the full number did not at first appear. But there was no prearrangement and no attempt or purpose to cease giving the invitation to confess Christ after the number seven had been reached. The church was too deeply impressed with the seeming miracle to undertake any experiments with it. Continual prayer was all that was attempted. People ceased to ask their acquaintances to come to the meetings, and the usual revival methods were omitted. Real prayer, sincere singing, and a short comment on some verse of Scripture made up the usual order of services, aside from the regular preaching on Sunday.