After they had cleaned and prepared the hall for Sunday school, D.L. would fill his pockets with rock candy and head out into the streets of the slums to round up children for what was now called the North Market Hall Mission Sunday School. Sometimes he would find the parents of children passed out from drinking the night before. In those instances D.L. would help the children wash and dress for Sunday school. Out in the streets, children came up to D.L. He would pull a piece of the rock candy from his pocket and hold it up for them to see. “A piece for each of you who comes to Sunday school,” D.L. would say, and then he’d add, “No Sunday school, no sweets.”
As he walked down the street with the children following him, D.L. would stop suddenly, turn around, and ask, “Do you have brothers and sisters?”
“Yes,” would always come the cry.
“Then I expect they would like some candy too. You go and get them, and I’ll wait here for you.”
Moments later the children would be back with their brothers and sisters, and they would all head off down the street following D.L. By two o’clock in the afternoon, a throng of children were gathered in the North Market Hall ready for Sunday school.
Now that the Sunday school was held in a larger facility, the number of children attending grew steadily. Before long over one thousand children were in attendance. Soon a number of parents begged D.L. to allow them to come to Sunday school with their children and listen to the lessons.
A large group of volunteer teachers joined D.L. each Sunday to help staff the school. D.L. kept a watchful eye for those willing to do the administrative work necessary to keep the whole enterprise going. He decided that his wealthy friend John Farwell would be an excellent administrator for the Sunday school. He invited John to come to speak to the children. The visit started on a comical note. As John entered North Market Hall, a group of boys swarmed around him. D.L. turned to see a number of the boys offering to shine their guest’s already highly polished shoes. D.L. smiled to himself. The boys from the slums knew a rich man when they saw one, and they were always hoping for the opportunity to earn a tip from him, even at Sunday school.
D.L. could see by the expression on his friend’s face that the sheer number of children present for the Sunday school was impressive, though John wondered out loud how D.L. and the other teachers put up with the noise the children made.
“They’re quite a handful, but here, I’ll quiet them down for you,” D.L. said as he climbed onto a box. Raising his voice above the noise in the hall, he got the children’s attention. When he was satisfied that everyone was listening, he announced, “Children, we have a special guest with us today: Mr. J. Farwell. He is going to speak to you.”
John replaced D.L. on the box and began to address the children. D.L. was impressed with the way his friend managed to keep their attention. He was convinced that John would be a perfect superintendent for the Sunday school. As soon as his friend wrapped up his talk, D.L. strode to the front and announced, “Children, I have some news for you. Mr. Farwell is to be our new Sunday school superintendent. Give him a cheer.”
D.L. could see the look of surprise on John’s face. He hadn’t actually asked his friend before he made the announcement if he would take the job, and he knew it would be hard for him to back out in front of all these cheering children.
And sure enough, John Farwell accepted the challenge and did an excellent job as Sunday school superintendent.
Other than standing and quieting the children down with his booming baritone voice, D.L. did little public speaking at the Sunday school, or anywhere else, for that matter. As far as D.L. was concerned, his gift lay in attracting children to come to the Sunday school, not in being the speaker. He was reluctant to even try speaking. Yet on several occasions when the scheduled speaker did not show up, D.L. had no choice but to get up and speak to the children. It was certainly not easy for him the first time. But as he stood on the box before the sea of children’s faces, he found that he enjoyed telling the Bible stories and making it sound as if the characters in the stories were modern-day residents of Chicago. Once he got involved in the story, he found it a lot easier than he at first thought it would be. The children liked it when he was the speaker.
Before long D.L. found himself doing more and more public speaking, and not just to the children. The parents had asked him to run a family meeting at the North Market Hall, and D.L. often found himself speaking at these services.
During 1859, twenty-two-year-old D.L. decided that it was time to get married. Since meeting Emma Revell when she was a fourteen-year-old girl, he never doubted that one day she would be his wife. Emma was now sixteen and a public elementary school teacher. D.L. knew that she was still too young to marry, but he asked Emma’s father for permission to become engaged to her. Fleming H. Revell agreed, and D.L. looked forward to marrying Emma in three years.
In June 1860 one of the teachers at the Sunday school visited D.L. The man looked pale and ill. He explained that he’d had another hemorrhage in his lungs. His doctor had told him that he could no longer live near Lake Michigan because the damp climate was not good for him. As a result, he was making plans to return home to upstate New York to spend his last days with his family.
“I am sorry to hear that,” D.L. replied. “But tell me, you look like something else is bothering you.”
“It is this,” the teacher said. “I think I have done the girls in my Sunday school class more harm than good. I have not led one of them to Christ.”
The teacher’s concern caught D.L. off guard. He had never led anyone to Christ himself. In fact, he had never really given it much thought. As a layman he assumed that it was the job of the clergy to lead people to Christ. Even when he had first come to Chicago and rented five pews at the front of the Plymouth Congregational Church, he had not spoken about salvation directly to any of the young men he brought with him to fill the pews. That was the job of the pastor. It was also why D.L. became irritated sometimes at the boring nature of many of the sermons. Instead of challenging nonbelievers about their lack of faith and belief in Christ, more often than not the sermons put these nonbelievers to sleep.
Even at the Sunday school, D.L. saw his job as bringing in the biggest number of children he possibly could and teaching them about Jesus and the Christian life. He still believed it was the job of those he invited to speak to the children each week to lead them to conversion. D.L. considered himself to be the agent who gathered people so that other, more gifted and trained people could lead them to Christ.
The sick Sunday school teacher’s confession thus came as a surprise. But D.L. also saw it as an opportunity. “Before you leave Chicago, why don’t you visit each of the girls that you teach and tell them what you have just told me? I will borrow a buggy and go with you if you like.”
The Sunday school teacher agreed, and he and D.L. set out for the home of the first girl. They called for her, and she came outside to talk to them. As the teacher talked to the girl, D.L. could see tears forming in the corners of her eyes. And when the teacher asked the girl whether she would like to receive Christ, she said yes. The teacher asked D.L. to pray for the girl, who right there accepted Christ. The two men made their way to the home of another girl, where the result was the same.
Ten days later the teacher again visited D.L. Although he was still pale and weak from his illness, he had a bright, beaming smile. “Mr. Moody,” the Sunday school teacher exclaimed, “I have visited every one of the girls in my Sunday school class, and each one has yielded to Christ. I can leave Chicago a fulfilled man.”
The following evening D.L. made his way to the train station to see the teacher off to New York State. To his surprise all of the girls from the teacher’s Sunday school class were there to say good-bye. D.L. noticed that their faces also beamed.
This experience with the teacher and the girls from the Sunday school class had a profound effect on D.L. He knew now that he had to do more than just get children and adults into meetings. He had to make sure they understood that they could have a personal relationship with Jesus Christ. This new realization left D.L. with a fundamental question: Was continuing to sell shoes during the week and running a Sunday school on the weekends enough, or could he do more?
Given the experience D.L. had just had, the answer to the second part of the question was obvious to him: yes, he could do more. But the answer was not particularly easy to accept. If he did want to do more to spread the gospel and bring people to Christ, it would mean giving up his income and his business aspirations. He was doing quite well and making a very good salary for a young man of his age. But would Emma still marry him if he didn’t have a business or steady paycheck? He hoped so.
Chapter 7
A Cloud of War
I have decided to give God all of my time,” D.L. confided in Emma.
“But how are you going to live?” his fiancée asked. The couple were seated in the Revell family living room, and for once Emma’s younger brother Fleming was not eavesdropping on their conversation.
“I have $7,000 in savings. I will use that and then trust that God will provide for me if He wishes me to keep on. Otherwise, I will keep on until I’m obliged to stop,” D.L. replied as he studied Emma’s face.
Emma’s eyes were steady. D.L. knew that his new direction would come as a shock to her. The Revell family had come to Chicago from England with little money. They had struggled in the early years, but thanks to Fleming Revell’s skills as a shipbuilder, the family’s income had grown. And now D.L. was suggesting that his and Emma’s life together might be one of struggle rather than of the business success D.L.’s heart had been focused on until now. He hoped that his decision would not cause Emma to back away from marriage.
“So be it,” Emma said, her voice as calm and kind as always. “I will stand with you, whatever you decide to do, D.L., and I am confident God will help us face the future together.”
D.L. breathed a sigh of relief and prayed a silent prayer of thanks to God. What other young woman would have so serenely accepted her fiancé’s decision to spend all the money that would have gone toward building their first home? D.L. was grateful and humbled that he had found a woman who was willing to embark on this new adventure with him in faith.
D.L. quit his job and moved from traveling shoe wholesaler to full-time Christian layman. This was quite a change. But now that he was no longer employed, D.L. had much more time to recruit and organize his Sunday school. It was only a matter of weeks before the school was thrust into the public’s attention.
On November 6, 1860, Abraham Lincoln was elected as the sixteenth president of the United States. Less than three weeks later, Lincoln was in Chicago to meet with his vice president-elect, Hannibal Hamlin, and a group of political advisors. On Sunday morning, November 25, 1860, the president-elect attended one of the most prestigious Episcopal churches in the city, Christ Church. Then he had lunch with Episcopal Bishop Charles Cheney. After his lunch with the bishop, Lincoln made another, quite different visit—to D.L.’s ragtag Sunday school at North Market Hall. John Farwell told D.L. that the president-elect had agreed to visit as long as no one called upon him to make a speech. D.L. nodded in agreement to the arrangement but secretly hoped that Lincoln would say something to the children.
Lincoln seemed impressed by the Sunday school and the hundreds of children who gathered in it. As the president-elect was about to leave, D.L. said, “We promised not to ask Mr. Lincoln to speak, but this does not prevent his saying a word to us if he wishes.”
