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| A MAN CALLED PETER
PART 2
Chapter Nine
Washington -Opportunity Unlimited
Jesus answered and said...without me ye can do nothing.... ...with God all things are possible. John 14:23; 15:5 Mark 10:27 In the Washington Times for October 4, 1937, there was a picture of a youthful minister in his Geneva gown, standing behind a large brass eagle. The eagle's spread wings formed the lectern at the New York Avenue Church. The caption beneath the picture read: "New Pastor in Presbyterian pulpit -Preached First Sermon in Historic Edifice Yesterday." This was a picture of Peter. The Times' photographer had faithfully captured his youthfulness and his more-than-slight bewilderment at the events that had catapulted him to that spot behind the eagle. At the time the bird looked somewhat more confident than the minister. Peter's Washington ministry began on the third of October 1937. In the morning, he preached "Salvation's Paradox" -to a large congregation, in the evening, "The Failures of Christ," He was installed as pastor of New York Avenue on October 20,1937, with Dr. Albert Joseph McCartney, of the Covenant-First Presbyterian Church, preaching the sermon. The Reverend John A. Wood, my father, gave the charge to the minister. Dr.Albert Evans, the Associate Pastor of New York Avenue, gave the charge to the congregation. A few weeks later, Dr .Oscar Blackwelder, of the Lutheran Church of the Reformation, who was then president of the City Ministers 'Association, asked Peter to address the ministers. "We met that day at the National Cathedral," Dr .Blackwelder said later, "and Peter talked about getting lost in the church. Haunting memory!" Dr Blackwelder found himself much interested in trying to appraise this thirty-five-year-old man who had been called to New York Avenue Church. "He seemed to me to be a very sincere, guileless, transparent, naive boy. His predecessor, Dr .Joseph Richard Sizoo, appeared by comparison, a sophisticated divine. I knew that morning that plenty of difficulties and heartaches were ahead for Peter, but I also knew that he would win out in the end. he had what it took. "Later, as I got to know Peter well, " Dr.Blackwelder continued, "I watched my initial prophecy, made that morning come true. As the years passed, he spoke often in the church I serve. At a young people's banquet he talked on 'Dancing with Tears in Your Eyes.' He preached his sermon 'Calling of the Twelve' twice for us and he promised to do it again. On a hot June Sunday night he delivered that sermon to a congregation that overflowed into the parish hall. He had become a fixture with us on Tuesday in Holy Week. Dr. Blackwelder told me later: "At first he was a conservative preacher, clinging rather too tenaciously and defensively to his conservatism. I watch Peter grow during those difficult years here, until he became one of the most thrilling evangelical preachers I have ever heard." Peter's reputation as a "thrilling evangelical preacher" soon resulted in long lines of people waiting outside New York Avenue Church on a Sunday morning. Often four abreast, they were patient and cheerful about the wait. They hoped to be able to get into the sanctuary and find a seat. loud-speakers had to be installed in the Lincoln Chapel and the downstairs lecture room to handle the overflow crowds. When these rooms were filled, there was nothing left to do but turn would-be worshipers away. There came a time when the New York Ave-News, the young people's paper, reported: "In recent weeks an average of 500 persons has been turned away from the overflowing sanctuary of New York Avenue Church every Sunday morning." Finally the church officers decided that the only possible way to handle the situation was to hold two identical services Sunday morning -one at nine, one at eleven. These huge congregations were comprised mainly of government workers, GI's, ordinary citizens, a constant stream of out-of-town visitors, and a sprinkling of Washington's renowned. In our congregation, it was not unusual for a famous judge to worship beside a mail carrier or for a Senator to take the Sacrament of Holy Communion in fellowship with a little government clerk. This was a thrilling thing to watch. One felt that it was the very essence of CHRISTIANITY Peter had himself come up the hard way. he never lost touch with the so-called common man. The democratic ideal was in his blood. At first, therefore, he was so afraid of paying any servile regard to the Capital's notables that he was blinded to their real needs. he soon discovered that the rich and the famous have heartaches just like other folks. They cannot escape sickness, pain, and bereavement. They and their families need succor, consolation, and counsel just as the rest of us do. It soon became apparent that serving any of them, from president of the United States down, was just an integral part of a ministry in the Capital city. In fact, less than three months after coming to Washington, Peter was asked by the Washington federation of Churches to preach at the annual Christmas service to be attended by president Franklin D. Roosevelt and his family. * [We will follow with some extracts from:
Chapter fourteen
God Still Answers Prayer
"...then I will restore her...and make the dale of Trouble a door of hope." Hosea 2:15 [Moffatt's translation]
...Miss Fuller had been in Washington for eight month's. She had been attending New Avenue Church regularly. For years , this girl had been groping to find God. That part of the story is best told in her own words:
Like nearly everyone in Washington, I thought Dr. Marshall was one of the most challenging and inspiring ministers I had ever heard preach. Sunday after Sunday, I would stand in line outside the church hoping to get a seat, only to get just far enough inside to stand throughout the service. Yet hearing him meant so much to me, I wouldn't think of staying away just because I had to stand. For years I had been aware that religion was a very real and wonderful thing to some people, but not to me. I wanted it to be, but couldn't seem to get a grip on it. Dr. Marshall was one of a few people I knew who seemed close to God. he always talked about God as if God were his closest friend, as if they had wonderful times together. The sermons heard him preach only intensified my spiritual hunger. I hung on his every word, as most of his listeners did, and prayed that somehow, someway, I could get to know God like that too. Another thing that bothered me very much was that I wasn't sure I was in the right job. It was very interesting job, with the Senate as my beat. For a girl reared on a farm, there was a thrill attached to such a position, and the pay was average, but I had two good jobs during the two years since I graduated from Kansas State, but in them too, I felt something important was missing. I felt that I belonged somewhere else, but I did not know where it was. It was like being away from home and not knowing where home was. [ In 2007 - A message to friends of over four decades in the USA - Keep well! Bob and Phil and company -- we hope to see you in Emporia , Kansas - soon!] On the first night that Alma Deane went to choir rehearsal, over one hundred young people from many different parts of the United States were present. During the announcement intermission, Mr Beaschler, our director of music, told them about having spent part of his vacation with us on Cap Cod. "By the way," he added abruptly" do any of you happen to know of a maid or housekeeper who would like a job for the winter? The Marshall's will be back in town next Wednesday, and I heard them say that if they hadn't found reliable help by then, they would have to close the Manse and break up the family for a while. If you have any constructive suggestions for them, you will not only be doing the Marshall a favor, but the whole church At that moment, God started answering both Miss Fuller's prayers and ours. "suddenly , I had the strangest feeling," she said later, "that Mr Beaschler was talking to me and to no one else. In fact, I just knew he was talking to me! I didn't know the Marshall's personally. I didn't even know that Mrs. Marshall was ill, but everything Mr Beaschler said stood out in my mind like boldface type or neon lights. I became very excited. Over and over, I heard in my mind, 'A.D. why don't you go?" The idea did not appeal to Alma Deane al all. She did not like housework and did not know how to cook. "Hoe" she argued with herself, "would I be of any use to the Marshall's? How could I live on a housekeepers wages? How would I ever explain such a strange rash move to friends and to my family, who were so proud of my job on Capital Hill interviewing Senators and Cabinet officials?" But the idea persisted. That night she sat on the edge of her bed until two o'clock. She raised every possible objection, of which there were many, and could think of not a single good reason for wanting to become a housekeeper. Nevertheless, the idea persisted. It drove her relentlessly. The next day, she looked up our address in the phone book, caught a bus, and came out to Cathedral Avenue. She walked up and down in front of the house, looking it over carefully, just to assure herself that the whole thing was not a dream. On Wednesday, the day of our deadline, Miss Fuller came to see me. As she sat by my bed, I saw a girl dressed in an unbecoming aqua-coloured suit. She had beautiful, but restless, deep brown eyes, in which I saw in stability, even fear. A.D., as she told me liked to be called, was a little ill at ease, but was very frank. Quietly, she told me what had happened on Friday night at choir rehearsal. "I am not qualified for the job," she insisted. "I don't really want it, but I had to come and talk to you, so I can begin sleeping again at night. Frankly, Mrs. Marshall, there's something about this I don't understand at all. All I can say is, here I am, and I don't know why I'm Here." At that point , I became as excited as A.D. had been on Friday night. "I think I can supply the missing pieces to the puzzle," I volunteered. Then I told her about our knotty problem, the way we had prayed about it at a distance of five hundred miles, and that today was the date we had set for a decision on it. The girl sitting by my bed looked astonished. It had not occurred to her that the insistent mental prodding she had felt was God's way of speaking to her. Since the whole thing involved revolutionary changes for the both of us, we agreed to pray about it for two weeks, while I visited in Seaview. If , at the end of that time, both of us still felt that this was God's doing, A.D. would give her job on Capital Hill and come and live with us. She left as in a daze. Subsequently, in a talk about the matter with her boss, she was told that to become a housekeeper would be to commit professional suicide. Nevertheless, at the end of two weeks, the answer, the answer was clear to both of us. A.D. was convinced that, though to resign her job seemed a completely unreasonable move, it was nonetheless God's plan. For six years, she pleaded for his help. She has asked and sought and knocked. This was His answer. She could not refuse to obey. With as great a courage as I have ever witnessed, feeling like a parachutist taking a first leap, she resigned her position. She moved her possessions to the Manse on a Saturday night. As she set her things down in the room assigned to her, she had sudden proof that she had done the right thing. "I suddenly knew for the first time in my life," A.D. said afterwards, "what it meant to be in the right place at the right time. It was something like the way the horizon rights itself and stands still when you are coming out of a dizzy spell, and everything suddenly settles into place. All restlessness and uncertainty left me, forever. The peace of God has never left me since that time. I know now that obedience to whatever GOD asks of us brings peace and a sense of rightness with the world. There is no substitute for it. THAT NIGHT WAS THE BEGINNING OF A WHOLE NEW LIFE FOR ME." A.D. thought she would probably stay a few months. She stayed four years. She became not only a housekeeper but a cherished friend whose steady loving companionship alleviated my loneliness and hastened my recovery. Before our eyes, all the potentialities of beauty and character which had been lying dormant in her came to fruition. She became a poised and delightful person. Even her looks changed; she developed a flair for dressing fashionably. She acquired an artistry for house making, as well as rare qualities of leadership. We, for our part, got a more wonderful answer to our prayer than we could ever had imagined. A.D.'s four years with us were a period of spiritual adventuring and growth for Per and me, too. He and A.D. and I had became a kind of team, each of us contributing much-needed help to one another. Even A.D.'s experience on Capital Hill was of inestimable value to Peter when he assumed the Senate chaplaincy. Links were forged between the three of us that will last through all eternity.
Moreover, A.D. by no means committed professional suicide. In 1948, without even seeking it, she stepped into a fine position in the National Red Cross, at more than twice the salary of her old job on the Hill. That position seemed made for her. It used every bit of experience she had ever had. Furthermore, after the interim with us, she was a lot further up the professional ladder that she could have climbed had she spent the four years in journalism. Peter and I never stopped thanking God for sending A.D. to us. This answer to prayer was but an additional under-girding to Peter's already rock-ribbed faith. Often he referred to the incident from the pulpit.
One of the excuses we offer for our lack of faith is the old cliché, "God helps those who help themselves." Rather, God helps those who trust HIM to solve their problems. My own experience substantiates the evidence of Scripture that our actions in any given situation are more important to God than our thoughts or intellectual belief. Jesus was not being facetious when HE said that even FAITH of the mustard-seed variety can win great things from God. The greatest answers to prayer in our family have come at times when our faith was small as almost to expect the worst. Until we took hands off and really turned the problem over to God, HE could not help US. Do we trust God enough to put the ultimates of life - the things affecting health, life, and death basic economic needs - into HIS hands? If we do, that -in God's eyes - is faith, and HE will always honor it Why not try it for yourself? * * * [Font Altered-Bolding & Underlining Used-Comments in Brackets]
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