Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1958-08-31
SPIRES OF THE SPIRIT
A Spire on Fire
BY DIR. FREDERICK BROWN HARRIS
Chaplain OF the United States senate

On q summers night in
this Year Of our Lord 1858,
in a great Midwestern city
throngs watched q spectac-
ular fire which threatened to
destroy a church spire. The
spire crowns a stately gothic
temple Of worship which rises
on a strategic site where
cross the crowded ways Of the
teeming metropolis. This par
ticular spire happened to be
lifted above a Methodist
church. But a spire is never
sectarian; it leaps above
dogma. Any spire belongs to
all who believe that back Of
all temporal shadows. and in
them, standeth the Father
God whose mercy endureth
for ever.
AS the alarm rang out, the
word spread like wildfire that
the steeple Of the well-known
church was in flames. In no
time the imposing edifice was
the center Of the city's con-
Germ. A huge crowd gathered
to watch the aerial battle
with the shooting tongues of
destruction. Defective wires
had made that church, and
especially the spire, the OBJ
ject Of anxious and intense
interest such as that tower
ing emblem had never known.
That inspiring symbol Of
spiritual verities suddenly
had been projected into the
thought of multitudes. All
the city was moved because
q familiar Spire was in dan
ger. The battle was won by
the gallant fighters long be-
fore the total destruction
which threatened to remove
a hallowed landmark from
against the sky. The cathe-
dral church was itself I'M
harmed. When morning
gilded the sky there was a
Thanksgiving paean from the
hearts Of hosts OF every reli-
gious name and sign that
the spire was still there.
We venture to say with the
image of the blazing spire
before us that, figuratively
speaking, it is only when a
spire is on fire that it becomes
the magnet for human hearts
that it is meant to be. The
message of a spire is so urgent
and compelling that it is not
only an object of aesthetic
beauty to be admired, but an
ethical imperative to be
obeyed and to be given first
priority In a life.
Years ago, in an Eastern
city, a well-known clergyman
was the visiting preacher in
a certain very staid and con-
ventional church. where it
seemed nothing ever hap
pened. 1t was so "icily regu-
lar" so "Splendidly nil" that
the man who was to stand in
its pulpit felt the chill in his
prophetic bones so keenly
that there was in his heart a
violent recoil from a religion
so aptly described by Alfred
Noyes, who has so recently
left us, and who said of a
religion from which the fire
had gone out
You chatter in church like
JGckddDS
Words that Mould tDrke the
dead,
Were there one breath of life
in you,
One drop of blood, he said.
Well, in such q chilling
atmosphere this dignified
preacher suddenly astounded
and alarmed that aristocratic
congregation by leaping up
the altar stairs, shouting
Fire! Fire!" And when
startled voices from the pews
cried out Where? Where?"
he replied, Anywhere but
here! There is no flame
here; the sacred fire has
been extinguished." mas
much as the literal fire in the
spire to which we have al
luded was in q Methodist
church, shall we record here
how wildly we recall an edi-
torial in a publication of that
church by one of its fervent
leaders? It's topic was Fire,
Fire, Fire!" Then followed a
plea for new intensity and
dedication. And does not the
writer Of the Book of REVEAL
ton bring the charge against
one of the seven early
churches that, while it had
orthodoxy and wealth and
prestige, it had lost the flame
of It's witnessing zeal. The
solemn threat of the Divine