07. THE SERVANT OF HIS TIME
THE SERVANT OF HIS TIME
THERE is the whole wide world of difference between the time-server and the man who serves his time. Anyone aspiring to be, in any adequate sense, a leader, or teacher of his time, must be a student of all times, past, present, future. No man can read the lesson of today who did not learn his alphabet in the events of yesterday; and he who casts no prescient glance toward the indications of tomorrow will make sad mistakes in his handling of current opportunities. The combined genius of history and of prophecy, alone, can interpret and guide the spirit of the present; and, in order to understand where it is we are, and whither we ought to tend, we must know whence we have come and to what goal the growing indications point. A pitiable spectacle of incompetence is the man who imagines that, in order to serve his own generation, he must cut himself adrift from all considerations of, and reverence for, the past. Of no use to his age is the declared opportunist, who boasts that he never looks more than two weeks ahead, in his manipulation of his affairs. That which is called Today---the child of yesterday, the parent of tomorrow---must be focused in the light of eternity before its meaning can be read, and its needs supplied. But the broader wisdom thus acquired must spend itself upon the current hour, or it, too, will become a fatuous, even if academic, ignorance. The man who knows everything about life in Athens, or Rome, or Jerusalem; who can describe the minutest details of ancient civilizations, but who knows nothing of the complicated relations and conditions of modern life; who has never considered how the marvelous growth of resource has intensified old problems and created problems quite new, is of little use to the generation which clothes and feeds him. The crown of all true wisdom is service, and "to serve the present age", a man must be alive to its evils and its possibilities for good, its laughter and its tears. The man who glorifies past heroisms at the expense of modern fidelity would have traduced past heroes had he lived in the same age with them. He who cannot see opportunity at his feet, because of his upturned face and dreamy forelook, will probably stumble into his grave without realizing that he has left his cradle. The cynic who sneers at attempts to mend the world is in a fair way to reach a world as incapable as himself of being mended. The pietist who, intent upon his mansion in the skies, is indifferent to the suffering and crime and sin around him, who pays his dollars to a missionary society, but never lifts a finger to change and elevate the conditions under which men live in his own city, is not to be argued with: he is to be pitied and denounced. The awful eloquence of Christ against the Pharisees was not intended to be set to dulcet music and sung without a shudder by their modern descendants. Christ meant every word of it, and the meaning is neither exhausted nor inapplicable to the life of this, our own, time. The failure to do the duty of the day assumes various pernicious forms. In one man it takes the shape of regretful and debilitating reminiscences. His heart is in the "good old days". He remembers, or persuades himself that he remembers, what life used to be when he was young, when life was worth living, with always something to be done, and room to do it. Matters, however, are different now. Life is too crowded, too vulgar, too complex. Poetry is gone, and chivalry out of date, and heroism impossible. The individual is lost in the mass; the world has passed out of hand. It is now "every man for himself", and no room is left for service. A man of this sort is blinded by memory. Another man believes there is work to be done, somewhere; and believes himself to be the man to do it sometime. His dream of great deeds fills him with enthusiasm, but he must bide his time. His years are slipping silently and swiftly away, and still that highly improbable opportunity of an almost impossible heroism draws no nearer. It matters not. He keeps a lookout toward the heroism, and dreams much of high deeds to be wrought. This man is blinded by forecast. Some men, of course, do nothing for their age because they mean their age to do everything for them; while others are deliberately useless because of a settled and cynical unbelief in the value of unselfish work, or of work for the mending of the world. Thus, from one cause or another, men overlook or underrate the present task. They are dreamers, idlers, pessimists, in some cases pietists, who despise the world’s problems even while they live by the world’s problem-making labor.
F. B. Meyer was none of these things. Yet he knew and loved the past and gloried in the lessons taught by the story of ancient days; he looked hopefully, and in fuller measure than most of his fellows, towards the dawning of new and better ones. He was both reminiscent and prophetic. But the claims of his own day and age were all about him, and he addressed himself to their discharge with gravity, dignity, wisdom, and an utter disregard for personal comfort or indulgence. In spirit and demeanor, however, he belonged to the Victorian era, exhibiting its benevolent mien, its shy affability, its assured peace without a touch of self-complacency, its unfailing courtesy, its suggestion of reserve of power. In him---as was emphasized at the beginning of these pages---the lamb and the lion were combined. Though naturally sensitive, he was quite fearless in following the dictates of conscience, would stand alone and rejoice to bear obloquy for conscience sake. At the same time, he hesitated not to join himself to good and worthy movements of almost every kind, which had for their objective the glory of God and the welfare of his fellows. In very deed and truth, F. B. Meyer was the servant of his time. To begin with, he was a great Londoner, and did a noble work for his native city. He held a unique position in her pulpits, and his record, as a social reformer, was as full and as honorable as that of any of her living civic statesmen or County Councillors. He had a great affection for the great, roaring place, and his public ministry began and ended within its borders. As recorded elsewhere in these pages, he preached his first sermon in Seven Dials, his last, in City Road. The manifold character of Dr. Meyer’s service was such that, many phases of it were scarcely known save to those intimately associated with this or the other humanitarian activity. Many organizations and societies were honored by having him named as president or vice-president. But F. B. Meyer cared nothing for empty titles, and invariably took a keen interest and definite share in the work of every project to which he lent his name, while every effort, for the advancement of God’s kingdom and the uplift of mankind, regardless of whether he, himself, were personally engaged in or not, had his loyal and continued support.
There was his life-long interest in foreign missions, for example. In the early years of his work in London, he evinced a deep concern in the fortunes of the Regions Beyond Missionary Union, and remained a devoted helper in the work of the East London Institute, subsequently known as Harley House, for more than thirty years.
How well I remember the time, twenty-eight years ago [writes Mrs. Isabel Guinness, in The Christian]. My husband, the late Dr. Harry Guinness, had been very seriously ill, and was ordered away from home. We were able to go away together, as Dr. Meyer took the oversight of everything at Harley House, the then headquarters of the Union. He had his rooms there, so that he could, when possible, take prayers in the College of a morning. During the year that Dr. Guinness was away recruiting, and then taking meetings, Dr. Meyer took the entire oversight of the work, and not only so, but gained the hearts of the little children left behind. After the decease of Dr. Guinness, Dr. Meyer again stepped into the breach, and remained, ever since, a constant and most valued helper of the work, by advice, etc., when unable to attend committee meetings regularly, and up to a very short time ago was a constant helper in the work.
Students at Harley House who, in due course, entered upon various spheres of labor---in particular in Africa and India---were privileged to hear lectures delivered by F. B. Meyer a generation ago; and to this day there are those who remember his words of wisdom, and are conscious of having received benefit from the culture which he sought to impart. A generation ago, too, F. B. Meyer labored with ardor and devotion as a teacher of Sunday school teachers, and for fourteen years, every Saturday afternoon, at the Young Men’s Christian Association Branch 186, Aldersgate Street, he expounded the weekly lesson in such fashion as enabled men on the following day to meet their classes with a message of worth and intelligence such as would render coming to Sunday school an experience of real spiritual value. That is not all, however. The addresses were not designed for teachers only, but presented in such a way as to reach young men and others, and in many cases inquirers heard to their souls’ good. The style of address was clear in doctrine and confidential in form ; and many young men dated their decision for Christ, and their leading to spheres of work in distant lands, to words spoken by F. B. Meyer thirty years ago in the room in Aldersgate Street. The name of F. B. Meyer will be associated with Keswick, one supposes, as long as the name endures. The beautifully situated town of the North country was very dear to his heart, and the loveliness of Skiddaw and Saddleback, of Floating Island and the Falls of Lodore, never ceased to whisper soothingly to his spirit. But for Meyer, as for thousands of others of his fellow-Christians, Keswick meant much more than lovely natural surroundings and delightful human fellowships. Keswick Convention stood to F. B. Meyer as the place where he got his first glimpse of fully surrendered service, where he yielded himself obediently to the heavenly vision. Meyer acknowledges that, during the earlier years of his ministry, his service was without power with God or special favor with man. Then there came a time when he saw the emptiness of mere service, and cried to God, at Keswick, to take supreme control of his life, guiding, directing, and controlling his every plan. From this time on, God accepted his service, and one of the strongest arguments for the spiritual teaching he continued to present was the testimony to its efficacy that his own ministry furnished. He entered, heart and soul, into the Keswick movement, and joined himself to those who apprehend uttermost, unconditional surrender as a necessary preparation for the baptism of the Holy Spirit and power. He became a regular speaker on the Keswick platforms, and the ministry he exercised year by year had far-reaching effects. Those who were caught in the high tide of this onrush of heavenly waves were borne to heights of spiritual vision from which they have since refused to come down. Keswick influences kept those high standards in the minds of Meyer and of thousands besides. It is this inward union of the soul with God that suggests the word saintliness in F. B. Meyer. In him a naturally religious nature abandoned itself to the Spirit’s infilling and overflow, and the permanent work of his life was the public testimony and sign of his apostleship. At Keswick, for many years, he wielded an influence that was unrivalled. To hear him at a Convention, in the hush of a summer evening, was an experience that one never forgot. He "shone" in every phase of Christian service in which he engaged, but it was in retreats or meetings of the Keswick order in which he delighted most, and was seen at his best. Then occasionally his features took on a radiance which recalled the Mount of Transfiguration and made many a disciple declare it good to be there, as he saw reflected, as from a mirror, the glory of the Lord.
Nearly a quarter of a century ago the Brotherhood Movement was formed in England, and F. B. Meyer was the first national President. He was a great encourager of young men, far more keen to imbue them with his enthusiasm and secure them for the cause, than to enhance his own achievements. And in this he was singularly successful. The Brotherhood grew in numbers and power; men like Harry Jeffs, Tom Sykes, and W. W. Ward, gave their best to its enhancement, and the work it accomplished manifested itself in remarkable fashion during the years that followed. But conspicuous among its greatest traditions and inspirations stands the early stimulus and propulsion given it by F. B. Meyer. The Young People’s Christian Endeavour Movement owes this devoted servant of God a great debt. He never failed to respond to an appeal of the London Christian Endeavour Federation, and twice occupied the President’s chair. Time and again, he took prominent part in Endeavour councils and spoke from its platforms. "His long experience and venerable age secured him the devotion of every Christian Endeavourer," says Rev. W. A. Ashby, "while his personal magnetism and individual charm won and held their love." In 1906 Dr. Meyer was elected Chairman of the English Baptist Union, and his year of office was looked forward to with the keenest anticipation among Baptists in every part of the country. Everybody realized that the year would be made memorable by the service the President-elect would render. His itinerating prowess was remembered, and the recollection made it possible to indulge the expectancy that the tireless itinerant would be, at least for one year, at the explicit disposal of the Baptist churches of the country. The President’s address was delivered in the City Temple, May 23, 1904, and the congregation that gathered to hear it filled the historic house of worship to its farthest limits. It was six-thirty when Mr. Meyer rose, and the reception accorded him was magnificent. Cheers echoed and re-echoed round the galleries as if they would never end. The instant the applause ceased he began to read in firm, pleasant, musical tones the address to which Baptists had so long looked forward. There is always a touch of formality on occasions of this sort, when a speaker reads a piece of literature which, as everyone knows, is already in type, and will soon be on sale. But Meyer succeeded, by his graceful gestures, appealing emphasis, and the vibrating emotion of his voice, in giving to the printed pages all the fire and fervor of an extempore utterance. He omitted a good many passages, especially quotations, and compressed some sentences into half their original length.
Some parts of the address breathed the spirit of lofty poetry, and were heard in a hushed attention [continues the British Weekly of contemporary date]. One of these was the dirge of feudalism, which was introduced with a glowing picture of the northern midnight. On his Scandinavian tour Mr. Meyer must have witnessed this spectacle, and the impression he left with us was lovely as a Lapland night. The interest grew steadily till the close. The grace and dignity of the President’s manner fitted the nobility of his theme, and his voice proved fully equal to all demand upon it. The latter part of Mr. Meyer’s speech was rich in the counsels of practical wisdom. As the galleries emptied, I heard on all hands the remark, "Was it not magnificent?" The address will long be remembered for its consecration and its holy charm, and Mr. Meyer’s audience could understand how it is that in America, in Syria, in almost every country of Europe, men have learned to look for his spiritual guidance, and to welcome his presence as that of an apostle passing by.
During his year of office, Mr. Meyer fully satisfied the great expectation which the Baptists of the country entertained. In his official capacity, he visited cities, towns, and villages, and, everywhere, he was greeted with the heartiest welcome. He preached and addressed public gatherings in many centers; he conferred with workers in every field. His tour concluded, he issued a comprehensive and notable report, and it is interesting to learn of those features of Church life and activity, to which twenty-five years ago, Mr. Meyer directed attention. The amazing thing about this report is, that it reads like the summary of a survey which might have been taken, say, three months ago, in either England or America. And therein lies its value and appropriateness to consideration in these pages.
During his year of visits, Mr. Meyer found that the general level of preachers and Christian teachers had been lifted; but that there was a fatal lack of conspicuous personalities whose voice would be listened to, in a time of stress; too many ministers were cramped within small and limited spheres. In every part of the land we have met refined and cultured men, with whom it is one long struggle to make two ends meet [he said]. We have sat in their homes, have detected the symptoms of a pressure which they were too noble to confess, have admired the chivalry and courage which refused to unbare the whole story of need, and have been touched with the heroism of them and their noble wives, who are the saints of the Baptist calendar. The missionary who bears the hardship of foreign service has some compensation in the knowledge that his self-sacrifice is, at least, recognized by his friends in the homeland, but what pen shall ever chronicle the patient, unrecognized, and unrequited sacrifices which are constantly being made by our poorer ministers in town and country?
Mr. Meyer went on to express the question as to whether, under these circumstances, the modern ministry can attract the best material to its ranks. Moreover, the heavy emphasis on church work force men to slight their sermons. "The machinery of our church life is become almost as intricate as life aboard a man of war", he declared. The remedies proposed for these ills were the combination of two or three churches into one large plant; the increase of ministerial salaries; the infusion of new blood into the boards of deacons and elders; greater devotion to the pulpit; definite, even dogmatic teaching, and a closer personal walk with God. Familiar as most of these suggestions are, they need to be offered again and again, and the best thing about them is that they put upon both ministers and laymen the responsibility for quickening the life and increasing the efficiency of the church in these, our own, times. The cause of Free Church unity lay always near to Dr. Meyer’s heart, and he looked eagerly for significant developments in this sphere. While never so strenuous an advocate of the movement as Dr. ]. H. Shakespeare, yet he stoutly advocated its principles and worked steadily for its advancement.
One of the little subsidiary events in which Meyer had part was his being one of a small committee which arranged the memorable Day of Intercession, which was held on June 25, 1902, the day before what was to have been King Edward’s coronation day. Queen’s Hall was filled three times, with over seven thousand souls. Four hundred clergymen and ministers were on the platform, and there was a splendid choir, conducted by the late Mr. Clapperton, the organist at Keswick. Dr. Meyer’s delight at the tone, spirit, and greatness of blessing of that gathering was unbounded. It cost over £500, but the entire amount was provided by collections and sale of programs. At the World’s Sunday School Convention, held in Zurich in 1912, Mr. Meyer alternated with the Rev. R. Moffat Gautrey in conducting the devotional exercises with which each day’s session began. Mr. Gautrey says that Meyer dominated that assembly as no other man did, and the deference paid to him by the representatives of thirty-seven nations demonstrated the widespread affection and confidence with which he was regarded by the Churches of Protestant Christendom. This Convention was but an incident in F. B. Meyer’s unabated interest in Sunday schools. This interest took the form of local participation, national prominence, and international service. He loved the young people with a great love, and strove for their welfare in every conceivable way. In noting this phase of Dr. Meyer’s manifold activities, it will be recalled, that, for many years, he expounded the Sunday School Lesson for teachers, week by week, in the columns of The Christian. The early years of the twentieth century were great days in the history of British Nonconformity. They were gallant days---fighting days---and in no period before, nor since that time, can the ranks of the Dissenters in England be said to have stood in closer formation, nor have faced more unflinchingly, the forces to which they were opposed. Most notable of all, perhaps, was the Education struggle, and a brief resume of the situation which brought about this tremendous agitation in Britain will be of service. In 1870, when School Boards were established in England, all schools, the maintenance of which was to be provided by public funds, were to be nonsectarian; it was not to be expected that the great body of Nonconformists would be willing to pay rates (taxes) for the teaching of Anglicanism or Romanism. But after the passing of close upon thirty years, the Convocations of Canterbury and York, in 1901, demanded that while remaining under private management and control, voluntary (parochial) schools should be wholly maintained by public fund. As these schools were almost entirely Anglican and Romanist institutions, the rights of Nonconformists which were menaced, in 1870, were again threatened with invasion. In 1902 Mr. Balfour introduced a Bill into the House of Commons which confirmed the worst fears of the Nonconformists. It proposed to substitute County Councils for School Boards as the educational authority, to place denominational schools on the public rates (taxes), institute creedal tests for teachers, and provide. Anglican chairmen for the local committees of control. The measure was vigorously opposed by the Nonconformists, who fought it tooth and nail. Meetings of protest were held everywhere, and the enthusiasm of the Dissenters knew no bounds. But, in spite of the most strenuous opposition, the Bill became law during the parliamentary session of 1902. The following year, the Passive Resistance Movement was set afoot. Free Churchmen were most willing to pay for the instruction of their children, in all that made for good citizenship, but beyond this point they refused to go. While no organized movement was attempted, and while the question always remained one to be answered in the realm of personal conviction, passive resistance prevailed throughout the land. The Nonconformists refused payment of such rates as were intended, under the meaning and provisions of the new Act, to be devoted to educational purposes, and submitted, readily, to restraint upon their goods and even imprisonment in lieu of payment.
Dr. John Clifford was the recognized leader of the movement, but he had whole-hearted support from nearly all the Free Church leaders, foremost among whom were Meyer, Horne, Guttery, and (through the medium of his journal the British Weekly) Robertson Nicoll. In 1904 Dr. Meyer was elected President of the National Free Church Council, and, in his presidential address, he declared that the Education Act violated one of the fundamental principles of the British Constitution---that which stipulated that public moneys should be administered only by public control. "When the people’s purse is requisitioned," he declared, "the people, themselves, should hold the strings." "Moreover," he went on, "the Free Churchmen of England will not submit to the imposition of any procedure which tends to increase the power, or again set up the rule, of the priest in this fair land."
Meyer was, from the first, a passive resister, and in September 1904, he was summoned to appear before the Lambeth Borough Court for non-payment of the education rate.
He has never appeared to greater advantage than when he stood before the magistrates [says the British Monthly], surrounded by a company of brother ministers and other respected ratepayers, to explain why he was conscientiously bound in this one instance to refuse obedience to the law. He spoke nobly and he looked noble. It was faces such as his which Bellini loved to paint, faces of great doges and churchmen, stamped with asceticism in every line. In the same year (1904), the introduction of Chinese labor on the South African Rand, under semi-slavery conditions, was approved by the British Government, and championed on the floor of the House of Commons by Alfred W. Lyttelton, the Colonial Secretary. The matter aroused a tremendous outcry in England, and F. B. Meyer’s voice again was heard. In his capacity as official spokesman for the Free Church Council, he raised his voice in continual protest, and, on March 31, 1904, was one of the most effective speakers at what, up to that time, was regarded as the greatest outdoor demonstration ever held in Hyde Park. There were more than a dozen platforms erected in the Park on that memorable Saturday, with many thousands gathered around each. John Burns had his crowd, and so had Will Steadman; yet neither man, nor any other speaker that day, did quite so well as F. B. Meyer. His audience was made up of a great throng of London artisans, and no public man living knew these chaps better than he. They listened to him breathlessly, and cheered him to the echo. ’Twas a day of great protest, this, roused by the shameful spectacle of the Mother of Parliaments bemeaning herself to become the serving-wench of the greasy plutocrats of Park Lane.
During the agitation which greeted the Licensing Bill, which, in those days, proposed to award compensation to brewers and publicans upon the extinguishing of their licenses, F. B. Meyer stood "once more in the breach". "The public purse must not be allowed to yield a single penny", he declared, "to compensate those who have grown rich by the impoverishment of millions, and ’ennobled’ [given titles] by the degradation of their fellow-men." On July 4, 1910, Jack Johnson, the American negro pugilist, defeated James J. Jeffries, at Reno, Nevada, for the heavyweight boxing championship of the world. The British champion, at that time, was Bombardier Wells, and during the following months negotiations were entered into by those interested in boxing to bring the two men together, in London, during the spring of 1911. The match aroused great interest, and necessary arrangements for holding the contest were proceeded with. Risking any unpopularity which might follow his action, Meyer protested by speech and pen. He received very little definite support from other leaders, but he persisted with his protest, and went right ahead keeping the public mind agitated in regard to what he described as an "animalistic exhibition". In the end he succeeded in influencing public opinion to such an extent that the proposed fight between the negro and the Englishman never took place. On the death of the Rev. Thomas Law, F. B. Meyer undertook the general secretaryship of the National Free Church Council, and in spite of his advanced years spent his days in pulpits and on platforms and his nights on railroads. "He assumed the office of secretary at a time of crisis, and it is not too much to say that his personal prestige and abounding labors redeemed a difficult situation, and made possible the continuous success in which those who followed him have been enabled to rejoice." In 1920 he was again elected President of the Council---a double honor, which, up to that time, constituted a record.
Reference has been made to Dr. Meyer’s share in the formation of the Advent Testimony and Preparation Movement in 1917. To the platform of this movement he remained steadfast, and, when in London, seldom missed attending its meetings. A number of those who stood side by side with him on this matter during the war years ceased to take anything save a languid interest in the Advent Movement. But to the last hour of his life Dr. Meyer looked faithfully for the coming of his Lord. On March 28th hopeful expectancy was swallowed up in open vision.
Among other movements and organizations with which F. B. Meyer was associated are the following: The National Young Life Campaign, the Shaftesbury Society, the National Children’s Home and Orphanage, and Dr. Barnardo’s Homes, and, in later life, he founded the Homeless Children’s Aid and Adoption Society. And so the years passed, with F. B. Meyer teaching little children to reverence truth and honor, and youth to follow after courage and purity; helping men and women to find in this confusing world the right way, and to walk in it; bringing hope to the despairing and comfort to the sorrowing; striving to make the lilies of peace to grow instead of the blood-red blossoms of hate-all this he did with brave and cheerful heart. But when all this has been fully recorded and duly appreciated, we totally miss F. B. Meyer, if we do not see him as a worker for the salvation and growth of the individual soul. He was an apostle and a prophet, and was sure that he was sent to watch for souls; and he judged poverty and wealth, mean streets and open spaces, vice-breeding slums and luxurious mansions, according to their effects on the souls of men. His work was spiritual in its aim and tone and results. To record his great contribution to the great movements of his time, to which, by honest conviction, he was drawn, is not enough: we must follow him as, under the urge of the Gospel, for the fear of God and the glory of Christ---under control of the Holy Spirit he sought to wean men from the ways of sin and folly, while, by preaching a full-orbed Gospel, he set forth the Savior as we enjoy Him, made righteousness, sanctification, and redemption, unto His separated people. The advance of years did nothing to quench his enthusiasm, and to the very last he travelled up and down Great Britain speaking and preaching and testifying to the wonderful power of the grace of God in heart and life.
