Perrysburg journal. (Perrysburg, Wood Co., O. [Ohio]) 186?-1965, 1906-12-28
LITTLE BROWN CHURCH
Incidents in the History of the
M. {. Church.
Continued from First Page)

Doubtless they often found their flock
unruly, inclined at times to hunt fresh
pasturage for themselves, instead of
taking that which had been cut and
dried for them; prone to shoulder
each other, now and then to lock
horns, or to follow a wrong-headed
and stubborn leader into by and for
hidden paths; apt to complain of an
insufficiency of salt wherewith to
flavor the orthodox herbage. Per
chance, sometimes the flock have
looked with disfavor upon shepherd
who called them sharply, when they
were looking over the wall at the
world on the outside of the fold, or
were entering into conversation with
some prowling wolf, During these
sixty years how many words of warn
ing, admonition, instruction, encour-
agement have fallen upon the vibrant
air, to echo and re-echo long after the
speaker is dust.
One by one, our pastors come be-
fore us, reflected in the magic mirror
OF memory. We seem to see them
tones of their voices. But, no, they
are only shadows, and in turn, they
vanish. One of these is of fearless
and rather beligerent character. l
hear him again, as he prays with a
trace of defiance for his audience, not
for his God-"Oh Lord, strike the fet-
ters from the limbs of the black
slaves of the SOUTH" l hear, TOO, the
rising of some in the audience, their
aisle their indecorus slamming of the
door, all to show their protest against
the blasphemy of praying for the abo-
iition of human slavery. The preach
er was not subdued by the displeas-
ure OF his audience, and he lived to
see his prayers answered. The pro-
testants lived to wonder, doubtless,
at their own blindness.
The blood-red blossom of the Civil
War has opened wide its petals. We
see tall and stalwart man clad in
soldiers uniform, new and shining,
and on this, his last Sunday in our
pulpit, he stands before us holding in
his arms, his own tiny child, for bap-
tism. We hear him say, John, bap-
tize thee in the name of the Father,
Son and Holy Ghost. Amen" The
little child lives only a few months,
then Is taken to the land where war
is unknown. The man goes forth to
his baptism of fire and blood, his
uniform becomes worn and soiled,
and he returns to us no more.
There comes before us in the magic
mirror, the vision of slight, boyish
figure, and a smooth boyish face, but
both face and figure express a scorn
that is surely not boyish, as one Sun
day in the midst of the morning ser.
vice, forty feet of stove-pipe falls
with crash, which startles the pas.
tor, and effectually wakens the con
gregation to the need of repairs to
the old church.
Some have not forgotten the clouds
of gloom that settled upon us as a
church when the words were whisper.
ed from one to another: Our pastor
is dead" Whispered words, yet for
many besides the stricken family
words that seemed to re-echo through
out the universe. Taken away from
his work in early manhood, he had
little opportunity to search out the
possibilities of life. His death is a
part of the great mystery OF the gov
ernment over this world, where
Justice, like the kingdom of God is
not without us as fact, but within
us as great yearning"
There appears before us two pas
tors, one of whom Is consciously an