| .
"Vintage Reading® Stories Heard Over the Back Fence"
PREACHER DOW (almost!) DID IT AGAIN
~
Adapted from an 1873 short story
By Rita and Victor Buday
SEPTEMBER 2007 :: © 2007 Buday Books / Vintage Reading® |
|
.
In the early 1800s, the Methodist Church in America gained many converts, largely through the efforts of tireless evangelists spreading the message. One of those evangelists was Mr. Lorenzo Dow, whose name is found in Methodist records. And for thirty-eight years, 1796-1834, American Methodist Bishops wondered what they had done wrong to deserve Preacher Dow . . . not that he was in any way other than completely devoted to his calling. Quite the contrary--at least until near the end of his life.
He was said to have been born in Connecticut late in 1777. By the time he was seventeen, he began his preaching, & two years later--1796--he was "accepted into a tentative connection with the Methodist ministry," but was suspended after three months.
In 1798, the Methodists took him back and immediately discovered that when his mind was made up--
Bishop or no Bishop--he was "set" in his thinking, dug in as hard as the most stubborn mule!
Despite ecclesiastical objections, he took his message to Ireland for well over a year. Came back; sailed on a ship to Georgia. Labored there for several months. Returned to New York, then criss-crossed through Alabama, North and South Carolina, Tennessee and Mississippi.
Church Bishops had to admit that Mr. Dow's converts were proof he was genuinely devoted, tireless, and effective. But he labored wherever the Spirit moved him--England, Boston, Natchez--and with the absolute certainty that he was always right, he spoke his mind freely. His quick tongue often brought quick trouble.
Once, in Charleston, South Carolina, he had more trouble than usual. His sermon had lambasted a highly-regarded, recently-deceased rich man. For this he was arrested, brought to trial for slander, and sent to be a guest at the County's Bastille. Upon his release he announced that despite his "unjust and unwarranted punishment," his next sermon would be about yet another rich man.
Naturally, the church was packed.
With great solemnity he opened the Bible and read, "There was a rich man who died and went to----"; he paused for a moment, then continued, "Brethren, I shall not mention the place to which this rich man went for fear his friends from there who will sue me for revealing his unhappy whereabouts!"
The congregation had a sudden throat-clearing . . . to hide the sounds of snickering.
-----
Eventually, he retired to his farm in Connecticut where he spent his last years quarreling, suing his neighbors, and shaking his fist at the world. Not even Methodists escaped--he accused them of "popery." |
|
|
