ADVERTISING AND REVIVALS
If you want to be a modern, successful, up-to-date preacher, Oswald, it is absolutely necessary that you advertise! And why not? Banks advertise and the picture industries spend millions advertising. Look what advertising has done for halitosis and B. O. And but for advertising, would you have known that Heinz has fifty-seven varieties? The correct answer is no. You would never think of over thirty-two or forty-nine. It pays to advertise!
The papers first present themselves to our thought. Bluff, bribe, or pester the editor of your paper into printing long articles, all written by yourself, about your own comings and goings. If you are appointed on a P. T. A. committee; if you attend an Anti-Cuss association; if you go to the city to try on a new pair of suspenders; if you have a paragraph printed in your religious paper, demand a front page write-up; or still better, write the article yourself—you can really do greater justice to the subject—and insist that it be published.
Do not neglect your own denominational papers. Report once or twice weekly. Not a modest report of a modest growth—this will get you nowhere. Let people know that you are on the map and doing things. Report something like this: “We have the biggest Sunday School between Chicago and New Orleans. Great crowds at preaching services, standing room taken, many turned away! Greatest day in the history of this church. We have been here two months and the attendance at all services is doubled! Greatest singing I ever heard; greatest choir. Finest young people. Fine weather, wonderful people, splendid town. Pray for us.” The only prayer that will come to the minds of some of your readers, Oswald, will be one that you will accidentally hit a nail or a pin and burst. But these people will be the ones who are jealous of you, so do not worry, my boy; just go right on with a good strong letter each week.
People will never know your true worth unless you tell them, so advertise by word of mouth. Tell them when you lived in Illinois you built an “$80,000.00 church building”; that you are a bosom friend of the great Dr. John Will Grow, and that your wife is a cousin to the famous Dr. Bluster.
Oh, yes, Oswald, it pays to advertise. Do not neglect a lavish use of your photographs (the papers will be SO glad to get them) and of trick cards calling attention to yourself and your high position. Work yourself into schools, clubs, anywhere to be seen and heard. You want people to know you just as they know Burma Shave and Mother’s Oats. Advertise!
Some little fellows, Oswald, would never be noticed at all if they did not make a noise. Some sage has remarked that the “lost man hollers.” And the deeper he gets into the woods, the louder he hollers. There are men who make up in noise that which they lack in ability;—like little Jimmy in the back yard who yells ear-splittingly, “Look at me! Look at me! Look at me! I can turn a hand spring—look at me!”
When you are preaching in a revival meeting remember your advertising. Your next engagement may depend upon your glowing accounts of the present meeting. Great numbers of additions are most desirable and will put you over, so never neglect an opportunity to count hands and noses. You can easily persuade a number of small children to come forward so that you may report in the next issue of your denominational paper, “Thirty forward. Great day.”
For your convenience, Oswald, it might be well for me to outline the order of service followed by some revivalists. Then you will have a foundation upon which to make your own plan.
First you must get everybody into a happy frame of mind, which can best be done by having a snappy song service. Your song leader must have pep. He must call upon the people to sing. “Now si—i—ing, everybody. Unless you’ve had a quarrel with your wife, si—i— ing.” He must tell a few good stories between songs. He must urge the people to “step on the gas” and push out the sides of the house, on such favorites as “Brighten the Corner” and “Hallelujah, Thine the Glory.” When he sits down beaming and perspiring, you come forward and announce that you will take the offering. That if they want a whale for a preacher, they must supply the water for him to swim in. Call out each deacon by name and tell him to walk up and lay down a dollar; if he hasn’t one, to borrow it, hallelujah. Get every cent you can. Then have a song—”Must I Go, and Empty Handed” will do—and launch into a dramatic sermon on “The Circus of Life” in which you imitate the various animals, side-shows, and entertainers, or on “Hold That Ball,” in which you enact a football game ending with a touching reference to playing the game fairly and to the greatest player of all, Christ, and will not every one there get into the game? Count every raised hand, sing the Doxology and dismiss.
You can vary this program a little from night to night. A clever mind like yours will be able to think of many novelties and unexpected treats, I am sure.
And remember, Oswald, any man away from home is a big man, so when you are the visiting minister it is well to be fussy about beds, meals, and arrangements in general, so they will know that you are accustomed to comfort, ease, and elegance at home.
During a revival, you will find that as a visiting minister you will be royally entertained. The ladies will vie with each other in setting out rich and delicious foods. One way to be different, Oswald, is to look over the table wistfully and ask for a “small piece of dry toast and a little tea.” Your hostess will perceptibly diminish and will weakly go kitchen-ward to prepare it. Then on your way home you can drop by some restaurant and get a big, juicy steak for yourself.
Of course you can announce publicly that you never eat cake, pie, or chicken, or in fact, meat of any kind—or rich salad—or hot breads. That people are not to go to any trouble for you. Some ill-mannered brute may ask if “the darn fool can suck a bottle,” but never you mind, Oswald, never you mind.
You can’t afford to underrate yourself for others might take you at your own estimation.
Therefore place a high value on your services. When you are preaching for a series of meetings or for some special occasion it will be best to appear dissatisfied with the amount tendered you in return for your labors. Always create the impression that they are getting a high-priced man.
You might prove your worth by holding up to ridicule both the town and the pastor, and by being abusive in your speech in the pulpit, which will get the pastor and the people into a properly humble frame of mind.
Very often, during your evangelistic campaigns, you will be housed in the home of the preacher. Whether this be true, or whether you stay with some good member, have all your laundry delivered to the home in your absence, which will necessitate your host paying for it. Also have him receive all C.O.D. packages. Let him pay your cleaning and telephone bills. Then depart without so much as a “thank you.” One way to do this without embarrassment is to toss the unpaid bill into your hostess’ lap with a laughing little remark, “I’ll make you a present of this.”
Do not be surprised if at some time in your career you run into this one: You do your best preaching, day and night; the results are satisfactory to all concerned. Everyone seems pleased. A nice offering is taken for you. Then the pastor and the deacons decide to keep half of the money to pay the back bills of the church. In this case, nothing can be done, Oswald, except to just ooze out of the picture.
One of the hardest tasks of all is that of holding a revival meeting when the church and the pastor are at outs, and each approaches you with his side of the story, expecting to enlist your sympathy. Your meeting is doomed before it begins unless you are astute enough and godly enough to bring the disagreeing ones together for a fresh start. Of course you can take sides and make things worse.
Now, Ozzy, my boy, I am going to let you “in” on a nice little “racket.” This is called the “Sympathy Line.” Every night during your meetings, tell the good people about the great troubles that have come upon you; that your oldest daughter is threatened with tuberculosis; that your wife is in wretched health; that you have a hospital bill of approximately twelve hundred dollars to pay; that your Aunt Minerva has lost her money and has come to live with you; and that you have worked SO hard this year, and that your health is so very poor; and that you have lost your savings in a bank failure, (of course this is purely for effect, since you have never had a penny in the bank, but have always owed money there!) and that you must depend upon these fine Christian people for help. They will pour out the money. Then some of the fine, Christian people will decide that you need the money more than the pastor needs it (who is given the princely salary of $12.50 per week) and will withdraw their support from him, and send you their contribution each month. By working this game carefully you can have a host of contributors over several states insuring you a fairly good income.
Posted in CHAPTER NINE
You may try to persuade yourself that this is an ordinary book — in order that you may find comfort in the persuasion - but you cannot do so and be fair to facts.