Lyman Beecher and his
wives, Roxana, Harriet, and Lydia [not all at the same time] begat thirteen
remarkable children.
To a preacher on a Sunday
morning, Arthur Beecher is more intriguing than his better known siblings,
Henry Ward Beecher and Harriet Beecher Stowe.
He pastored the
Presbyterian congregation in Elmira, NY for 37 years, on one-month calls. That
is, the congregation voted EVERY month on whether to retain him as pastor. For
37 years!
The first month he was in
Elmira, he was thrown out of the ministerial association for heresy. In the
subsequent 37 years, he never missed a meeting of that association, but was
never readmitted to membership. That strikes me as quite smart. He never had to
furnish the donuts or serve as an officer.
One Sunday he was called down
to Brooklyn when his famous brother, Henry, had to be out of the pulpit for
some reason, maybe one of his infidelity trials. When it was announced in the
service that Arthur would preach that day instead of Henry, many people got up
to leave. Arthur jumped up and yelled, “Those who have come to hear Henry Ward
Beecher may leave. Those who have come to hear the Word of God may stay!”
Everybody sat back down.
There is no point to this
story, except it’s Sunday morning, when I pray for preachers, and those who
hear them, so Arthur comes to mind. I surely do wish I could have known him.
Come to think of it, though, I have known some truly remarkable people, some of
them preachers, even, who were remarkable because they were so unremarkable.
They did nothing out of the ordinary, but day by day, in little ways, treated
people with kindness and honesty. They met good times and bad times with faith
and hope.
I think maybe our lives
are not only better in quality but, yes, even more interesting, because of the
lives of unremarkable people. And also Arthur.
JRMcF
John Robert McFarland
I especially like the name
Arthur. I had a cousin named Arthur, after our grandfather, Arthur Harrison
McFarland. Grandpa went by Harry, though, but I still like the Arthur name, in
part, also, because of Bang the Drum
Slowly [Mark Harris is the author] By
any name, I love my grandpa, because we lived with Grandma and Grandpa in the
Great Depression years, when I was little, and if my mother spanked me for some
imagined infraction, Grandpa would go out into the back yard and cry.
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