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BY

REV. JOHN B. LAIRD, D.D.

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MAY 6, 1945

Address by Rev. John B. Laird, D.D., at the Presbyterian Church of Frankford, Sunday Morning, May 6th, 1945; on the occasion of the 175th Anniversary of the founding of the Church, and the completion of Fifty Years of Dr. Laird's pastorate.

The Services this morning are in recognition of two rather interesting incidents in the life of our church. One of these is that this is the 175th Anniversary of the church's founding. May 4th, 1770 the corner stone of the first house of worship at this place was laid, from that time until the present, worship has been continuously maintained here. This is a long time for any institution to continue at the place of its founding. There are only a few older church organizations in our city, and still fewer that have continued for so many years at the same place. With the exception of the Friends Meeting on Unity Street, there is not a movement, either secular or sacred in Frankford that has continued for so long a time. The other incident that the day brings to our thought is that the present pastorate has now reached the end of its fiftieth year. Few men are privileged to serve so long a time in one church. The length of the present pastorate becom's all the more impressive when we remember that it followed immediately a pastorate of forty-six years. The two ministries have covered ninety-six years. We regard ours as an old church, as the age of churches go, but the last two pastorates have covered more than half the time of the church's whole life. It is difficult to decide just how to spend the time alloted this feature of this morning's service. Shall I give these few minutes to recalling some of the conditions through which the church has passed, and a few of the incidents and experiences that have marked her way? Conditions and incidents which will likely become more interesting as the years pass? Or, shall I speak chiefly of those things to which I have been personally related? Well, I have concluded to try to do both, and in so concluding, I am quite conscious of the fact that I shall likely touch upon the events and experiences of these years, so superficially as to be neither interesting or instructive. With your permission, we will clothe the old church with personality this morning; give her eyes to see, ears to hear, and a tongue to speak, and we will sit for a little while at her feet and have her tell something of 131

the story of these years, the conditions through which she has passed, that which she has seen and has been privileged to do. 175 years: And what years they have been! During this period probably more progress has been made in the way of better, happier and more useful living than in the preceding eighteen hundred years. The church tells us that in her life she has seen our country expand from a few colonies bordering on the Atlantic Seaboard, to a great Empire stretching all the way from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and from the Northern most point in Alaska to the Southern tip of Puerto Rico. The country's population has grown from less than four millions to one hundred and thirty million souls, of every nation, tribe and tongue on this earth. The city of Philadelphia, she has seen grow from a population of thirty thousand to over two million, and Frankford from a straggling little village to a part of the great city, with a population now many times as great as that of the whole city in those days. The people hereabouts at the beginning of the church's life came largely from Western Europe, making the voyage across the turbulent Atlantic in sailing sloops. It required from six to eight weeks to make that perilous and uncomfortable trip. Today the same trip is made in luxuriously furnished, comfortable steamers in less than six days, and by plane in the hours of a single day. During this period travel on land has progressed from the slow moving ox cart and horse drawn Conestoga wagon, and horse and buggy; through the street car, the trolley, the elevated, the automobile, and in these last days the airplane. The church was forty years old when Robert Fulton began his experiments with the little steamboat on the Hudson River. When the church began her life, communication was by mail which was carried usually in saddle bags, on horseback, or by stage coach. The postage was paid by the person who received the letter. I remember of hearing my Grandmother, who was born in 1782, saying that every time she received a letter from a friend in New Jersey it cost her six pence, which meant twelve cents. This has given place to the fast going train, and after this the 141

telegraph, and then when the church was 106 years, the telephone, and since that the radio has appeared. The inauguration on January 4th of this year was heard on the other side of the earth two minutes after its occurrence, whereas when George Washnigton was inaugurated in 1789 in New York, when the church was nineteen years old, the account of that inauguration did not reach his native state of Virginia for more than three weeks. The church tells us that she has seen educational facilities grow fast and go far. There was not general education when this church was founded. There were then a few academies to which only children of the well to do attended. The only need of education in those days that was recognized was that there should be sufficient learned people for the Legal, Medical, and Preaching professions. There was then wide-spread illiteracy. Those who are familiar with legal documents of 1770 tell us that the signatures thereon are largely marks: The cross was made because the people could not write their own names. 65 years after the founding of this church the Free School System was established in Pennsylvania, which not only invites all children, but sees to it that all attend. The year prior to the beginning of the present War higher institutions of learning in our country had within their walls no less than two million students, and educational literature is circulated everywhere. When this church began its life this was a farming community. The people who lived here were German, Swiss, and Swedish, with a sprinkling of Quakers. It was along the Delaware River from Philadelphia to Trenton that William Penn, and those who associated with him, first settled. It was not until the early part of the last century that there came to this neighborhood migrations from England, Scotland and Ireland, with their industrial proclivities, which almost immediately transformed the greater part of this farming district into a busy, bustling, industrial center. Frankford being near the city of Philadelphia, in its earliest days had many of the leading families of the city coming to it during the summer season. The 151

Delaware River then not obstructed by manufacturing plants, and its waters unpolluted, was a swift flowing stream upon which were many boats, and in its waters were delightful edible fish. Thus along the River's borders were fine residences, the ruins of some of which we remember, such as Chalkley Hall, the Jenks Residence, the Baldwin Residence, the Cornelius and Welsh Residences. But industry has long since displaced these. So it was in 1770, the people from these farms came to this place North of the Frankford Creek, and here laid the stone on which the church was built. It was a humble beginning. The first church was only 24 by 40 feet, but it was adequate. The building was simply furnished, the pulpit was high, the benches were backless. A few kerosene lamps were hung on the walls. The people as a rule spoke the German language, consequently the service of the church was in German. Tradition tells us that the little church was used as a prison during the Revolutionary War. At the end of thirty years, in 1800, the younger people having been taught the English language, demanded that the service should be in English. This brought about the usual controversy, the only controversy that is recorded in the entire life and history of the church. The young people won out, and the older people in their persistency and love for their Mother Tongue, withdrew from the church and associated themselves with the German Lutheran Church on Tackawanna Street, where the service is still conducted in the German language. In 1810 the Congregation having outgrown the little church, the church building was enlarged to practically double the size of the original building. The same year the church acquired the Frankford Academy, and for twelve years conducted a successful school, in so doing it did a splendid service for the community. In 1815 the Sunday School, which originated in London by Robert Raikes who gathered the children from the streets on the Lord's Day and taught them to read,
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especially the Bible, found its way to this country, and that very year some good women asked consent of the Session to have such a school in this church. Tradition tells us that permission was granted on condition that the boys be not admitted. It was generally believed that boys would not be sufficiently well-behaved to be permitted in a school on the Lord's Day. One of the barriers to the success of the school was that it was looked upon as an attempt to teach the indigent, the poor. The people did not know of a school of any worth that was free, and therefore, they hesitated to send their children to the Sunday School because it was a free school. However, three years later boys were admitted, and other difficulties seem to have been overcome. In 1826 General Lafayette, who had done conspicious service in the Revolutionary War came to America and was everywhere jubilantly received. The Frankford Arsenal was one of the historical places of the country, hence he visited Frankford, and among other things was given a reception in the Worrell House, a few doors above us. In the parade which preceeded his entrance to the village was a company of little girls, composed largely of those from this Sunday School. They were dressed in white. After I came to Frankford, I was in the home of a person then almost ninety years of age who told me this story. She said that she was one of those little girls, and she said, I shook hands with General Lafayette. When she said that, I arose and went over to her chair and asked, is this the hand? She said, Yes. I said, I want to shake the hand that shook the hand that shook the hand of George Washington. It is difficult for me to think that I shook the hand of one that shook the hand of General Lafayette, who next to George Washington probably rendered the most effective service in the cause of American freedom. Frankford became a part of the city in 1854, and almost immediately the church began making ready for re-building. In 1870 the centennial of the church was recognized in a most appropriate way. This service brought to Frankford a most distinguished company of church leaders. U

In 1886 John B. Gough, the world famous temperance lecturer came to this church to deliver his great lecture. Shortly after beginning to speak, he told a thrilling story of how that wrong doing had in after years stood in the way of a man's gaining a high place in life, and then in a dramatic way, uttered the words "keep your record clean young man" and as he uttered these words, was stricken. He never spoke again: The next day he passed to his reward. In 1915 the celebration of the centennial of the Sunday School was observed, and that year the Sunday School reached its highest peak in enrollment. In 1920 the 150th anniversary of the founding of the church, and the 25th anniversary of the present pastorate were recognized. At that time a history of the church was written by Mr. John M. Somerndike. A history had been written prior to this by Dr. Thomas Murphy in 1870. You have noted that the church in its life has witnessed all the great events of our nation. Seven years before the signing of the Declaration of Independence, the church was founded; and those Eturdy pioneers, George Castor and Rudolf Neff, when they had laid safely and strongly foundations of the church, went forth to serye in the cause of America's fieedom. In so doing, they followed the footsteps of the famous Muhlenberg, who at that time was a Minister of the German Lutheran Church of Philadelphia. Having been commissioned an Army Officer, came into his church on Sunday morning with his robe on, the people not seeing the uniform which he wore. He preached a stirring Sermon, and then exclaimed in stentorian voice, "There is a time to pray and a time to fight, and this is the time to fight." He threw off his robe, and led his Congregation into the service of the country. In 1810 the Decatur family became associated with the church, and Stephen Decatur went to the war of 1812, and won great fame as Commodore of the American Navy. In 1861, in the tragic struggle between the North and the South, many of the men of this Congregation went to the service. In 1898 the teacher of a [8]

large class of boys in the Sunday School, and a leader of the boys' work in the church, being a graduate of Annapolis, went to the Spanish American War, where he served with distinction. In 1918 more than one hundred of our boys whose names are inscribed on that beautiful tablet in the vestibule of the church, went to World War I and today a few less than one hundred and forty of our boys have been enrolled in the country's service, six of whom have paid the supreme sacrifice. Oh, the tragedy of man's folly! Thus we think of this war. In 1808 a young man, twenty years of age, was installed as pastor of this church, Rev. John W. Doak. After eight years, his health failed and he returned to the Tennessee Mountains, where he soon afterwards died. In 1815 Rev. Thomas Biggs began his ministry here, and continued until 1831, when he went to Cincinnati where he became associated with Lane Theological Seminary. In 1835 Rev. William Howard began his ministry in this church, and continued until 1849, when he went to the Second Church of Pittsburgh, and became Professor in Western Theological Seminary. In 1849 the remarkable ministry of Rev. Thomas Murphy began here. This young man was born in Ireland, educated in the College of New Jersey, and the Seminary at Princeton. He was a man of deep piety, studious habits, and scholarly attainments. He knew the languages as few men did. He devoted much time to writing. Many books came from his pen. He was Missionary minded. During the fortysix years of his ministry in this church, he established within the bounds of the Congregation no less than six other churches, all of which are now doing a splendid work. In 1895 he resigned, and was made PastorEmeritus; five years later he went to his reward, and for what he was, and the zeal and industry which he had for the upbuilding of his Lord's Kingdom, we may well believe that he was welcomed to the other land with the gracious words of his Master, "well done good and faithful servant." Then began the present pastorate. Probably this would be a good place for me to stop, but I am not going to do so. In the next few minutes, I will largely be talking about myself. If you do not wish to hear this, you may go out. I never had a fiftieth anniver[9]

sary before, and I think that I am safe when I say that I do not expect another. So what you may have to listen to today, will in all likelihood never be repeated. The present pastor first saw the light of day in a stone house on a hillside farm in Southern Lancaster County, Pennsylvania. This is not the part of Lancaster County which delights the eyes of travelers by its well-kept farms, and highly productive fields, but the part of the County which borders on the swift-flowing Susquehanna River: Hilly, much of it covered by woods, interesting and beautiful. His Mother died when he was five years of age; his Father was then in poor health. The family continued together until he was nine years of age when he went to live with a step-Uncle, who was many years older than his Father. This was on a large farm about a mile and a half from the school, and the same distance from the little Presbyterian Church, where he spent his youth. There were no school busses in those days. Morning and evening through all sorts of weather, the mile and a half was covered in going and returning from school. There was a small Library in the neighborhood which had been established many years before. The books in the Library were well selected. The Library was open one Saturday afternoon a month for one hour. I owe a great deal to that Library. I read almost every book it contained. Books on the Civil War were devoured with interest. The poets of New England were attractive to me. I read with interest George Elliott, and something of Walter Scott. I waded through George Bancroft's History. With a neighboring boy, I tried to read Shakespeare. Many of these books I fear I should never have read, had they not been in that little country library. I still have on my book shelves some of the books which I never returned. It was expected that I should grow up to be a farmer. Why I didn't is hard to explain. Into ones life there frequently comes experiences the meaning of which is only disclosed in later years. 1
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When I was about fourteen years of age, I was sent one evening to a village about three miles away on an errand. On the way, I went over a high point on the road from which I could see the city of Lancaster, fifteen miles away. It was in the early Fall; darkness was approaching. I caught a glimpse of the lights in the far-away city, and stopped and tied my horse to a fence, and looked, and looked, and thought, there is life, I said and I think that from that moment I never was contented in the country. The lights of the city had lured me. So, soon after, I said to my Uncle, I am going to Millersville State Normal School. He simply said, You are! To Millersville I went. After two years my money was exhausted, and on noting an announcement that the County Superintendent was holding an examination for Teachers, I went to the examination with great misgivings. The Superintendent spoke kindly and encouragingly to me. He gave me a certificate for teaching. I was appointed a teacher of a one room Country School, with seventy-two scholars, ranging from beginners to men with whiskers. I do not know how much I taught them, but from them I learned much. Almost immediately, I made arrangements to go to the city of Lancaster each Saturday to receive instructions preparatory to entering College. My tutor was an eccentric person, but had great enthusiasm for what he taught. If he found a boy or girl that would give time to study, he went far in directing them. In order to reach Lancaster, it was necessary, almost every Saturday to walk at least fifteen miles. I am not telling this story in pity of myself, nor do I want anyone else to pity me. It was the hard way, but it had its advantages. I still recall those early autumn mornings, when the stars were bright in the skies, and the industrious farmers were making their way to the fields for husking corn. I received three hours tutoring each Saturday, in Latin, Greek and Mathematics. A boy of a neighboring village had been at Dickinson College. In coming home, he told many stories of college life and opportunity. My father, being an Elder in the little Presbyterian Church had received a paper known

as The Presbyterian. It contained a notice of Lafayette College. The name Lafayette appealed to me strongly, and I immediately made up my mind to go to college, if possible. In company with another person, I started in the fall of 1888 to Easton. We came to Philadelphia. It was my first visit to this city. We went to Leary's old Book Store, to Childs' Restaurant, and then walked to 9th and Green Streets (as there was no Reading Terminal then), and took a Reading train to Easton. I realized that I was imperfectly prepared, and I think that it was more by the compassion of the Greek Professor than by my knowledge, that I was admitted to college, with some conditions. Christmas vacation came, the three weeks were spent at the college in the dormitory. There was only one other person there, a South American. The three weeks were spent in making up what I had lacked in preparation. Again, let me say that I am not complaining because of lack of privileges. I congratulate the boy whose father has the means and is disposed to provide for his highest education. There is no legacy a man can give to his children comparable to that of an education. But if a boy does not have such a father, one who can thus provide for him, if he has it in his heart and makes it the Purpose of his life, there will be a way to procure that education. The summer preceding my senior year in college, I was employed as a night clerk at a summer hotel, and was late in returning to college. When I returned, the Professor of Latin sent for me and said that there was need of a substitute to teach Latin in the Easton High School, because of the illness of the Professor there, and he had recommended me for the place. He said that it would likely be for a month, and he thought that I could do it in addition to my college work. I accepted the work, and instead of it being for a month, it continued throughout the whole year. At the end of the year, the Professor having resigned, the School Board offered me the position. I eagerly accepted it, as it carried with it a salary of twelve hundred dollars a year, and I greatly needed the money. The day before my graduation, the President of the college heard of this offer, and sent for me. He asked what my at[12]

titude toward it was going to be. I told him I expected to accept. He reminded me that sometime before, I had indicated my purpose to go to the Theological Seminary. He said, if you take this position you will likely continue here for your life. I reminded him of my need of money to meet my many bills. He thereupon offered to make himself responsible for all these, and required that I, in his presence, should write a letter. to the Board declining the offer. It seems as though the college President acted wisely, for the class-mate who took the position continued in it for more than thirty years, with almost no recognition or promotion. At the close of the first year in the Seminary, I was sent to the Wesh Mountains in Lancaster and Chester Counties, Pennsylvania, to do Missionary work. This was then the rendezvous of criminals. Abe Buzzard was there, a man who spent more than fifty of his seventy-one years in prison. At that time he was out of prison, and wrote me a letter asking permission to preach in the little chapel. He signed the letter, "yours in the work," Abe. But before the time for the service, he had fallen again, and was in prison. The senior year at the Seminary I was asked to preach in a Reformed Church in Brooklyn. I preached there six successive Sundays, morning and evening. They wanted me to continue, but I told them I could not preach any longer. They wanted to know why, I did not tell them. It was simply because I had no more Sermons. After I gave up this Brooklyn work, a good man in that church to whose home I went every Sunday by invitation, and in whose two children I was greatly interested, came down to Princeton to see me. On leaving, he said, I am greatly indebted to you. You have interested my children in the church, and I am now ready to deposit in the Bank of Princeton sufficient money to pay all your expenses for a two years' course in a European University, to complete your education. At that time almost every student cherished the hope of some day studying in Europe. I went over and told the Senior Professor. He arose from his chair and said, Very wonderful! but you must not accept it. You are a Presbyterian, and this man will naturally expect you to be a Reformed, when you re[13]

turn. So I wrote to the man thanking him for his generosity and explaining that owing to my having spent time in teaching, I should go immediately into the work of the pastorate. The man wrote back expressing his disappointment, but saying that doubtless my choice was a wise one. The very next week a committee from this church came to the Seminary in Princeton, and asked that a young man be sent down to Frankford to preach two or three Sundays in order that the Minister who was not well might have a rest. The Professor to whom they went was familiar with the church, and he said that he would send three young men on successive Sundays, but he would send the one, which he recommended, the first Sunday, and if the church liked him, instead of asking the other two, simply ask him to return. The Professor then sent for me and asked me to go to Frankford the next Sunday. I knew nothing of the visit of the committee, or of the suggestion about the three students. At the close of the service of the first Sunday, the Minister asked me to come the next Sunday. I consented: After that he wrote and asked me if I would be his Assistant. I wrote, stating the reasons why I declined this invitation. Time went on, the Minister resigned, the Congregation met and called me to the pastorate, and I have continued here ever since. You will observe that I never consciously candidated for this pulpit, or any other pulpit. There are few ministers who have not had the experience of candidating. I was uncertain as to whether I should come. My heart was set on a Country Church. When I was in the midst of indecision, Rev. Alexander Henry, came up to Princeton to see me. I told him of my hesitancy to accept the pastorate of a church that was then 125 years old, and probably had seen its best days. He said, Oh, come down, you and I will be good neighbors, and you will probably not stay more than five years. So I came. I did not even know how to live in a city. I had always lived in the country. But all my needs were happily and generously anticipated by the Session, Board of Trustees and members of the Congregation. The years have come and gone quickly. I do not have time today to speak of much of what has transpired, but if I were asked to express it in a single word, I would say, "change". So far as I know, there is only 1
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one person, a teacher in the Sunday School, left in any position of leadership in the church, who was here when I became the Pastor of the church. I have preached many sermons; I have gone up and down these streets many times, probably there is not a street in Frankford along which I have not gone on some mission. It has been my joy to counsel with many young people, and to hear Of the places they now occupy, and the great good service many are rendering. I have said to sixteen hundred people standing before me, "now with the authority vested in me as a Minister of the Gospel, I pronounce you" Almost three thousand times I have joined with those who have gone the way of laying their beloved dead to rest. With all Community movements and activities, I have been identified. During the years, I have been related in many ways to the church at large, serving in various Boards and Directorships of a Missionary, Educational, and Welfare character. In closing, let me say that as I contrast life today with what I recall of it when I began my Ministry, I would say that life is richer, people are better clothed, they live in better houses; the children are more universally educated, health is better safe guarded. There is more wholesome amusement. The general intelligence is higher. Along these lines there is yet much to be done, but the movement has been forward. Sometimes, we fear, that there is reversion, but let us not forget that we are progressing toward better things. More and more as the years have gone, have I been impressed with the thought that it is only as men live in accord with the teachings of the man of Nazareth that there is any assurance that they will later have anything like contentment or enjoy a satisfying memory. There is no other way, my friends, some have thought that education would solve the problem of life and conduct, but good as it is, it is not sufficient. Germany had a lot of it; too much of it, it may be; but she lacked moral restraint, she was without vision. She threw away the things worth while in order to satisfy the lusts for power. The debt is terrible to contemplate. There is nothing save the grace of God that will save a nation, or a community.
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During these fifty years our own Community is an illustration of the application of the practical teaching of the Gospel to the ways of life. During these years there has come into being the Library, Hospital, Historical Society, Day Nursery, Red Cross Branch, Women's Club, Boys' Club, Y.W.C.A., and all our Service Clubs; tending to bring the people together. I plead with you to continue to be a God-fearing people; endeavor to do His service. In His name, feed the hungry, clothe the naked, cheer the despairing. This church is 175 years old: Physically it is in splendid condition. During the years, it has stood here as a witness, and God forbid that this witnessing should ever cease. In memory, I shall carry it and the work in which it has been engaged during the past fifty years with me to my dying day. Necessarily, my services are coming to a close, but the joys resulting from these services are never ending. Surely goodness and mercy have followed me all these days, and may it be that I shall dwell in the house of the Lord forever. My Church and my Community have given me more recognition than I deserve. In the years past you have abundantly responded to the inquiry of the text upon which I preached the first Sunday after I was installed Pastor of the Church. The text was, "If you will deal kindly with my Master, tell me. If not, tell me, and I will go hence." Continue I pray you, to deal kindly with the Master, as you have always dealt kindly with me, and great will be your reward.