chapter 2: once more without the band
Sustained by saving Blood and Fire they sought
To live for others truly as men ought.
To live for others truly as men ought.
The association of my parents with the French Reformed Church of Zürich translated itself in this country to an association none of us could have anticipated: active membership as soldiers of the Salvation Army.
When we first moved to the house on Newton Avenue, we found it next door to a Methodist-Episcopal church. So close were we that no musical portion of the services there was not also readily heard throughout our house. It was there we first went to church, attending Sunday School regularly.
Before much time had passed, the church built a new edifice some distance away. This development, combined with the fact that my parents did not altogether feel at home in that church, led them to follow my cousin Alfred (ten years my senior) to the Salvation Army. Al was a bandsman there, and the evangelical bent of my mother led to her ready acceptance of that organization's program. She in turn led my father and us children to this new adventure, for we were quick to take to a worship service in which a brass band plays a cental role. In the years that followed we became instrumentalists, I with accent on the cornet.
This change was an adventure in many ways, not least because of the distance from our home to the Citadel Corps, or Hall (as the Salvation Army referred to its church building). Located as it was in downtown Kansas City (S.W. corner of 11th and Oak Streets), the old former Jewish synagogue was about five miles from our home. We traveled by streetcar, on the 12th Street line. This necessitated a transfer at Jackson, about one-third of the distance of our trip in. The ancient building, with its smoke-darkened brick, its high, worn stone steps and its twin towers was full of passageways and rooms awaiting exploration, adding mystery to the discovery of new friends. For these new friends wore uniforms as soldiers of Jesus, played brass horns and string instruments, and beat drums to advertise the fact. Moreoever, they were led by preachers called officers who held an odd melange of ranks borrowed from both the British Army and the Royal Navy.
The Sunday of a fully participating Salvation Army soldier is a full one, as is indeed the entire week. One meeting seemed to succeed another, often without much break: Knee drill, open-air, holiness were the three that filled the morning. Company meeting (Sunday school), young people's meeting, another open-air, then the evening salvation service. Thus from, say, 9:45 a.m. until 9:30 p.m., we got a full measure of Bible-centered activities designed to enable us to lead a better life and, in turn, to bring others to a sharing of our persuasion.
Most people are now aware of the Salvation Army's social mission, its work among the needy, orphans, hospitals, the alcoholics, unwed mothers, missions, disaster relief. Not well known is the basis for this: William Booth's conviction that someone should bring Jesus Christ to those who were not welcome in establishment churches. And since it is difficult to interest a man about his soul when he is hungry, why not help him cope with the physical, then speak of the spiritual? Such a mission takes dedicated people, people who think first of others, an attitude reflected in the organization's motto: Heart to God and hand to man.
The meetings held during the week included those designed to prepare us for fuller service. Corps Cadet classes were comparable to the catechism instruction provided by other churches. The band and songsters had to practice. The ladies held Home League meetings working on various projects. There were scout troops (Life Saving Scouts) and sporting events.
I became much a part of these activities, and counted as fast friends those with whom I shared various tasks. Our band played on street corners; we sold the War Cry (the organization's house organ); we collected money for the Self- Denial effort in support of missions; we visited jails. One summer I was a lifeguard at the Salvation Army Fresh Air Camp, a facility designed to provide a week's vacation in a wholesome environment for needy mothers and their children. Transportation for these families to and from the camp was provided by the Rotary and Kiwanis clubs. Another summer I was an iceman. This was part of the Penny Ice Program. Money was solicited from the public. The Kansas City Star cooperated, as did the local baseball team, the Kansas City Blues of the American Association. Prominent personalities often were involved (movie star Gene Raymond comes to mind). The money collected was used to buy ice, which was then sold from the back of a truck at various predesignated stops to families who needed refrigeration but could not afford ice sold commercially. For one cent 15 pounds, for two cents 25 pounds were handed to a mother or her youngster. Deliveries were made to the home of shut-ins. One sees a lot of life on such a job. The gratitude of some of these good people knew no bounds; one old gentleman insisting I accept the only possession he could spare -- a much worn, stained, battered felt hat.
Participation in Salvation Army activities called for wearing some manner of uniform: blue serge, the shoulder straps and collars designating the rank or activity of the wearer. And always there were flags. The American flag and the yellow, red and blue Salvation Army flag with its crest and and "Blood and Fire" rubric.
If the Bible was central to the message of the Corps, it was the band that is a universally understood herald. The better players constituted a senior band; learners, usually young, formed the junior band. A service invariably involved music, usually the band. The band played marches and selections as set pieces. The band accompanied the congregation when hymns and and choruses were sung. Many a salvation soldier was recruited because he or she was first attracted to the martial music of the band. Instruments were provided to those who did not own one, or were initially undecided what instrument to take up. With this stress put on its music program, it came as no surprise that some of the world's leading musicians at one time had been Salvationists.
The gospel message preached was simple: We are all sinners; Christ died for sinners; by his blood we can be saved; to be saved we must repent and by his grace sin no more, striving by the study of his word to live as he would have us live.
A salvation meeting comprised a series of steps leading to an altar call, thus providing an opportunity for a sinner to publicly make his way forward to the penitent form (or mercy seat) to give his heart to God.
A typical meeting or service included a word of welcome, an opening song, announcements, the singing of choruses, testimonies as to God's goodness and grace, special music by individual or group singers or instrumentalists, the offering (Salvationists turning in the envelopes are said to fire their cartridge), then the sermon, which in turn led to prayer and the altar call. These activities were discharged by various people and might include visiting higher ups or special preachers. Pervading the hall was a sense of participation, which became stronger with the altar call. Then individuals in the audience might be "dealt" with. It was not unusual when bowed in prayer to feel a hand on your shoulder and be asked if you were with God, and, if not, if you would not take this opportunity to seek forgiveness and start afresh the Christian life. It was an opportunity my friends and I would more than once avail ourselves of in an effort to find our way while ridding ourselves of guilt gathered through misbehavior.
The band sat on the platform, behind the pulpit. At times the prayer portion of the meeting stretched out, for as long as the altar call brought forward seekers, or seemed about to, chorus followed chorus and the words of invitation poured forth. Emotional outbreaks on the part of young, sensitive women officers at times punctuated the strains of "Just as I am, without one plea. Oh Lamb of God I come, I come."
Put a horn in the hands of a bandsman and he'll want to play it. So we would accompany the invitational singing on our horns, in part responding to habit, in part alleviating the tediousness accruing at the end of a long day. As we put more of ourselves into the playing, the music understandably reached a volume considered by the preacher as out of keeping with the solemnity of the moment. It was then he would turn and ask that the chorus be sung once more without the band. With reluctance we complied, hoping that our restraint would yield whatever results would satisfy the preacher so that the meeting could finally be brought to a close.
My association with the Salvation Army came formally to a close upon my leaving home for study abroad followed by college, where I found the more traditional ways of campus churches met my continuing needs to participate in the religious quest for something beyond myself. Over the years, I occasionally saw something of the Salvation Army by reason of the intimate association with it of my wife's family as well as my own. And I seldom put on a bright red sweater without recollecting the discomfiture I suffered while wearing the scarlet turtle-neck guernsey which was my uniform as a Salvation Army junior bandsman.
Once, in Boston, my graduate school colleagues and I passed a Salvation Army open-air meeting, one asking rhetorically how it felt to play like that on a street corner. I can tell you, I interjected, because I've done it. And it was with pride that I told my friends something of this important fragment of our complex society.
Table Grace
Répants Seigneur, ta bénédiction
sur nous et sur les biens que tu nous donnes.
Fais nous la grâce d'en user
avec des coeurs reconnaissants.
Au nom de Jésus, Amen.--
When we first moved to the house on Newton Avenue, we found it next door to a Methodist-Episcopal church. So close were we that no musical portion of the services there was not also readily heard throughout our house. It was there we first went to church, attending Sunday School regularly.
Before much time had passed, the church built a new edifice some distance away. This development, combined with the fact that my parents did not altogether feel at home in that church, led them to follow my cousin Alfred (ten years my senior) to the Salvation Army. Al was a bandsman there, and the evangelical bent of my mother led to her ready acceptance of that organization's program. She in turn led my father and us children to this new adventure, for we were quick to take to a worship service in which a brass band plays a cental role. In the years that followed we became instrumentalists, I with accent on the cornet.
This change was an adventure in many ways, not least because of the distance from our home to the Citadel Corps, or Hall (as the Salvation Army referred to its church building). Located as it was in downtown Kansas City (S.W. corner of 11th and Oak Streets), the old former Jewish synagogue was about five miles from our home. We traveled by streetcar, on the 12th Street line. This necessitated a transfer at Jackson, about one-third of the distance of our trip in. The ancient building, with its smoke-darkened brick, its high, worn stone steps and its twin towers was full of passageways and rooms awaiting exploration, adding mystery to the discovery of new friends. For these new friends wore uniforms as soldiers of Jesus, played brass horns and string instruments, and beat drums to advertise the fact. Moreoever, they were led by preachers called officers who held an odd melange of ranks borrowed from both the British Army and the Royal Navy.
The Sunday of a fully participating Salvation Army soldier is a full one, as is indeed the entire week. One meeting seemed to succeed another, often without much break: Knee drill, open-air, holiness were the three that filled the morning. Company meeting (Sunday school), young people's meeting, another open-air, then the evening salvation service. Thus from, say, 9:45 a.m. until 9:30 p.m., we got a full measure of Bible-centered activities designed to enable us to lead a better life and, in turn, to bring others to a sharing of our persuasion.
Most people are now aware of the Salvation Army's social mission, its work among the needy, orphans, hospitals, the alcoholics, unwed mothers, missions, disaster relief. Not well known is the basis for this: William Booth's conviction that someone should bring Jesus Christ to those who were not welcome in establishment churches. And since it is difficult to interest a man about his soul when he is hungry, why not help him cope with the physical, then speak of the spiritual? Such a mission takes dedicated people, people who think first of others, an attitude reflected in the organization's motto: Heart to God and hand to man.
The meetings held during the week included those designed to prepare us for fuller service. Corps Cadet classes were comparable to the catechism instruction provided by other churches. The band and songsters had to practice. The ladies held Home League meetings working on various projects. There were scout troops (Life Saving Scouts) and sporting events.
I became much a part of these activities, and counted as fast friends those with whom I shared various tasks. Our band played on street corners; we sold the War Cry (the organization's house organ); we collected money for the Self- Denial effort in support of missions; we visited jails. One summer I was a lifeguard at the Salvation Army Fresh Air Camp, a facility designed to provide a week's vacation in a wholesome environment for needy mothers and their children. Transportation for these families to and from the camp was provided by the Rotary and Kiwanis clubs. Another summer I was an iceman. This was part of the Penny Ice Program. Money was solicited from the public. The Kansas City Star cooperated, as did the local baseball team, the Kansas City Blues of the American Association. Prominent personalities often were involved (movie star Gene Raymond comes to mind). The money collected was used to buy ice, which was then sold from the back of a truck at various predesignated stops to families who needed refrigeration but could not afford ice sold commercially. For one cent 15 pounds, for two cents 25 pounds were handed to a mother or her youngster. Deliveries were made to the home of shut-ins. One sees a lot of life on such a job. The gratitude of some of these good people knew no bounds; one old gentleman insisting I accept the only possession he could spare -- a much worn, stained, battered felt hat.
Participation in Salvation Army activities called for wearing some manner of uniform: blue serge, the shoulder straps and collars designating the rank or activity of the wearer. And always there were flags. The American flag and the yellow, red and blue Salvation Army flag with its crest and and "Blood and Fire" rubric.
If the Bible was central to the message of the Corps, it was the band that is a universally understood herald. The better players constituted a senior band; learners, usually young, formed the junior band. A service invariably involved music, usually the band. The band played marches and selections as set pieces. The band accompanied the congregation when hymns and and choruses were sung. Many a salvation soldier was recruited because he or she was first attracted to the martial music of the band. Instruments were provided to those who did not own one, or were initially undecided what instrument to take up. With this stress put on its music program, it came as no surprise that some of the world's leading musicians at one time had been Salvationists.
The gospel message preached was simple: We are all sinners; Christ died for sinners; by his blood we can be saved; to be saved we must repent and by his grace sin no more, striving by the study of his word to live as he would have us live.
A salvation meeting comprised a series of steps leading to an altar call, thus providing an opportunity for a sinner to publicly make his way forward to the penitent form (or mercy seat) to give his heart to God.
A typical meeting or service included a word of welcome, an opening song, announcements, the singing of choruses, testimonies as to God's goodness and grace, special music by individual or group singers or instrumentalists, the offering (Salvationists turning in the envelopes are said to fire their cartridge), then the sermon, which in turn led to prayer and the altar call. These activities were discharged by various people and might include visiting higher ups or special preachers. Pervading the hall was a sense of participation, which became stronger with the altar call. Then individuals in the audience might be "dealt" with. It was not unusual when bowed in prayer to feel a hand on your shoulder and be asked if you were with God, and, if not, if you would not take this opportunity to seek forgiveness and start afresh the Christian life. It was an opportunity my friends and I would more than once avail ourselves of in an effort to find our way while ridding ourselves of guilt gathered through misbehavior.
The band sat on the platform, behind the pulpit. At times the prayer portion of the meeting stretched out, for as long as the altar call brought forward seekers, or seemed about to, chorus followed chorus and the words of invitation poured forth. Emotional outbreaks on the part of young, sensitive women officers at times punctuated the strains of "Just as I am, without one plea. Oh Lamb of God I come, I come."
Put a horn in the hands of a bandsman and he'll want to play it. So we would accompany the invitational singing on our horns, in part responding to habit, in part alleviating the tediousness accruing at the end of a long day. As we put more of ourselves into the playing, the music understandably reached a volume considered by the preacher as out of keeping with the solemnity of the moment. It was then he would turn and ask that the chorus be sung once more without the band. With reluctance we complied, hoping that our restraint would yield whatever results would satisfy the preacher so that the meeting could finally be brought to a close.
My association with the Salvation Army came formally to a close upon my leaving home for study abroad followed by college, where I found the more traditional ways of campus churches met my continuing needs to participate in the religious quest for something beyond myself. Over the years, I occasionally saw something of the Salvation Army by reason of the intimate association with it of my wife's family as well as my own. And I seldom put on a bright red sweater without recollecting the discomfiture I suffered while wearing the scarlet turtle-neck guernsey which was my uniform as a Salvation Army junior bandsman.
Once, in Boston, my graduate school colleagues and I passed a Salvation Army open-air meeting, one asking rhetorically how it felt to play like that on a street corner. I can tell you, I interjected, because I've done it. And it was with pride that I told my friends something of this important fragment of our complex society.
Table Grace
Répants Seigneur, ta bénédiction
sur nous et sur les biens que tu nous donnes.
Fais nous la grâce d'en user
avec des coeurs reconnaissants.
Au nom de Jésus, Amen.--
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