Dushaw, Amos I. The Grumbler. [South St. Paul, MN:] n.p., 1912. Booklet; cover is marked “No. 1” as if this were the first issue of a periodical. Were there more? Inside and outside back cover consists of ads from businesses in So. St. Paul, Minnesota. Pages are unnumbered.
THE GRUMBLER
BY
AMOS I. DUSHAW, B.D.
Author of “Proselytes of the Ghetto.”
______
NO. 1 15 CENTS March 1912
[inside front cover]
Protestant Church Dying in the Ghetto
Why?
Read, “Proselytes of the Ghetto.”
By AMOS I. DUSHAW.
Time: The Present. Place: New York. Cloth, $1.00
“Proselytes of the Ghetto” is a fascinating and unusual story. I consider the conversion of Rabbi Cohen a brilliant feature of the book. The scene is dramatic and skillfully presented. Altogether the book is a clever piece of work and calculated to awaken much thought. It is a strong plea for the Christianity of the Christ, the obliteration of racial prejudices and for a world-wide Brotherhood.
T. J. MACMURRAY,
Author of Highways of Success.
“The Jewish Era,” Chicago, Ill.:
“‘Proselytes of the Ghetto’ is a highly sensational story, the scene of which is laid in modern New York, and was to us so attractive that we read it twice in one day.”
The Jewish Comment, Baltimore, Md.:
Begins a long and favorable review of “Proselytes of the Ghetto,” as follows: “Several non-Jews have lately written dramas and novels with the object of combatting the unfounded and unpardonable prejudice which exists in all classes of Society against the Jew. Yet none of them has so fearlessly espoused the Jewish cause and so courageously defended the Jews as this writer has done.”
Brooklyn Daily Eagle:
“‘Proselytes of the Ghetto,’ is a small volume treating of the problem of New York’s East Side from a new viewpoint.”
The Continent, Chicago:
“The scene of the story is laid in modern New York, and the conditions of the Ghetto are faithfully depicted.”
The Call, Newark, N. J.:
“This is a view entirely new to polemical theology and one which carries with it a new element of religion. The author elaborates his arguments with acute logic and much force.”
Christian Herald, New York:
“Designed to help in the realization of the petition we daily offer: ‘Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done on earth.’”
All communications to the Grumbler should be addressed to, Editor, Box 463, So. St. Paul, Minn.
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THE GRUMBLER
The Founder of the Christian Church was satisfied with the title of Servant.
In a comfortably furnished parlor, a number of men of different ages and of many races and creeds, but all laboring men, were enjoying themselves in various ways. Some were smoking, as smoking was not prohibited despite the fact that the club was under the supervision of a Church, others were playing checkers, chess, dominoes, and those who had no inclination to indulge in these innocent diversions were reading the papers and magazines, domestic and foreign. Upon a table stood a samovar filled with steaming hot water, and on a tray were glasses, lump sugar and sliced lemon.
Some of the frequenters of this club had been in the habit of spending their evenings in the neighboring whiskey and coffee-saloons, but they were now quite contented to spend their evenings here.
The various Christian Associations do not erect beautiful and spacious club-houses in the really needed sections of our cities. Shallow reformers seek to destroy the saloons and billiard-halls without putting anything in their places. But Rubin, the organizer of this club, believed that churches failed in these sections of the city because they failed to adapt themselves to the changed conditions. He was himself a product of such sections and he knew what these people needed, and that they frequented saloons because they had no other places to go. Having started this club he found no difficulty in gathering in the men. Here they assembled night after night, no money was wasted and the wives of the married members knew that they were in good company. There was no danger of returning drunk, vicious, or penniless. The evenings were spent not only in playing games, but in discussing great themes, and no one was hindered from giving his candid opinion on whatever theme was discussed.
This particular evening, about 8:30, the parlor being well-filled with the friends, one of them suddenly stood up and clapped his hands. When every one was still, he said, “Gentlemen, I suggest that we discuss this evening a theme that has been on my mind ever since we parted last night.” “What is it, Joe?” called out several of the men.
“An American god.”
Laughter, clapping of hands and other exclamations of approval greeted the spokesman.
“Lead off then,” called out a man about 35 years of age, in a husky voice. “I, for one, may have something to say on such an outlandish subject.”
“Well then listen, and by way of introduction, I see that another Christian church has been sold and that it is to be turned into a nickel theatre. They are going one by one and it appears very strange indeed. These Christians who are everlastingly boasting of their religion, namely, that it is the only true religion; but as soon as conditions go against them they pack up and move to more congenial quarters. I, as you know, am not a Christian, at least not from the point of view of the churches. And by the way, you cannot get ten Christians representing ten denominations who will define Christianity in the same terms. Why? Because we have a religion about Jesus and not a religion of Jesus. His religion is too simple and too practical to be appreciated by the churches. His religion is the Sermon on the Mount put into practice, and that is just what His followers do not wish to do, because it will mean a radical reconstruction of society in such a way that all will be equal. What will the masters do then without their servants and slaves? Why has our host, I mean Rubin, succeeded in bringing together to this place, night after night such cranks as you are?”
“Now Joe!” exclaimed some of the listeners, “Not so hard on your friends.” “I,” said another, “see nothing strange in this sudden transformation. I suppose
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a church is like any other institution; as soon as its usefulness ceases it dies a natural death. I dropped into this church one Sunday morning and I heard the representative of the Nazarine say, ‘We are not here to do missionary work amongst the foreign people who crowd this neighborhood; but to uphold the American ideal. I have read the New Testament, studied the progress of the primitive church, and I now realize why this church has passed away without the shedding of tears on the part of the foreigners. What is this American ideal?’”
“Graft! Do you brother man whenever you get the chance,” exclaimed a third man, with a bushy black beard who looked like another Karl Marx.
“Now my friend,” continued the former speaker, “it is my turn, I have not finished what I started out to say. By and by the American families moved away. By American families this minister meant those who went to his church. The non-American individuals went to the Catholic churches, to the synogogues and to the literary and civic clubs. By the way, gentlemen, here we are, native Americans, naturalized Americans, and foreigners in general; but this wise parson identified the English-speaking Protestant church with America. All the others were foreigners. I, for one, cannot accept this narrow view. He certainly could not call Christians the greatest of the Americans, I refer to Franklin, Jefferson, Paine and the prince of them all, Abraham Lincoln. They were not church members and they accepted none of the church doctrines. Columbus was not an Englishman. And yet they have the nerve to expect us to join their churches that we might become the children of light. What bosh! Can the blind lead the blind? From his point of view New York is not an American city and the sooner he and his kind move back to Vermont the better it will be for them. From their point of view Rubin is not an American. Gentlemen, if Rubin is not an American then Jesus is not a Christian. New York wants men and not sissies, even if they are descendants of those who were forced to emigrate to America many decades ago. New York wants men with red blood in their veins and who believe in the brotherhood of men, and put their belief into practice. The true New Yorker despises the church Christians who are praying for the conversion of the heathens so-called that they might be brought to the knowledge of a dear lord who came to earth for the sole purpose of showing a few selfish people the way to a heaven where many a noble fellow would be ashamed to go. They despise the Jew of the East Side and yet they expect to go to their heaven thro the merits of a Jew and a carpenter by trade. Friends, you know as well as I do that if Jesus came to New York there is not a church that would accept him, and that he would be welcome by the people of the East Side.”
“That’s right,” they all exclaimed.
“And could not their god help them to convert these heathens at their very doors?” inquired a young man who called himself an atheist.
His companion, also an atheist, added, “Their god must have decided to build elsewhere so that a filthy tenement could be erected in the place of the church. You all know that the influx of foreigners has raised the rent of these hovels several hundred per cent.”
“Is this the American god you had in mind, Joe?” Inquired one of the atheists.
“You are on the right track, keep it up and you will yet name him.”
A quiet looking man who sat in a corner sipping tea from a glass, looked up and asked in a gentle tone of voice, “And do you call MacDonald, one of the kings of Wall Street, a god?”
Joe smiled, shrugged his shoulders; but did not say a word.
“You might as well admit it Joe,” continued the first atheist.
“How strange to call a human being a god,” added the quiet man.
“Why should it be strange?” replied the second atheist.
“God is supposed to be all powerful, the prime cause of every movement. MacDonald is such in reality. He is the main-stay of the church! Without him the churches can do nothing. In him they move and live and
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have their being. He is their sun. When he conceals his face for a little while all their hopes are blighted, and all religious work is at a standstill. It is only when he opens his purse, and when he grants them a gracious smile, that they bloom like the flowers in the sun. Why, he is more powerful than all their gods, devils, and angels combined.”
“See here, you are a sort of a sacrilegious person,” called out another man.
“Why?” replied the atheist. “Is it because I refuse to worship MacDonald? I say MacDonald is a scoundrel, a true child of their devil; but he tries to appear divine. He draws his income from all kinds of business, legitimate and otherwise, but the latter is more profitable. He is a temperance reformer; but he rents his property to brewer and rum-seller. He is an enemy of the white slave traffic; but by underpaying his girl help in his department stores and factories he forces many of the girls into the slave-market. I venture to say that he would be delighted to finance the socialist clubs on the East Side.”
“We socialists want none of his money,” spoke out a young man with a blonde mustache. “We socialists give as much as we can and very often more than we can. If church people gave as liberally and worked as faithfully to advance their cause they could very well get along without human gods. We are against the millionaire. Where you find the millionaire you are sure to find the pauper, too. We are his uncompromising foes, and we will win. He cannot bribe us as easily as he bribes the parsons who advocate the principles of the Sermon on the Mount on Sunday and forget all about it on Monday.”
The second atheist interrupted the speaker at this point, and said, “Yes and bow themselves before his satanic majesty, and—”
The door opened, and Rubin entered with a friend. They all greeted him most cordially. Rubin shook hands with every one of them, and also introduced his friend who was a theological student. After they were all seated again, Joe said, “So, my friend, you are a theological student.”
“Why so surprised, sir?” inquired Richards.
“Surprised! Why I have every reason for being surprised knowing that there are no churches paying good salaries in this part of the city. I hardly expected to see theological students here. I always expect to see them drop their line where there are good fish.”
“Are you a student of MacDonald’s seminary?” inquired the first atheist.
“Now, gentlemen,” spoke out Rubin, “I do not think that you are quite fair to my friend Richards.”
“Never mind, Rubin, I am well pleased with this reception.”
“Thanks,” answered the atheist. “I believe in calling a spade a spade. You preachers, parsons, priests, and rabbis have your own way too much. But progress has been made because someone had the courage to contradict you. You have always Imagined yourselves the private secretaries of your respective gods. But thanks to those heroes, called heretics, your orders have been dethroned, and a certain measure of liberty has been achieved. Truth is not afraid of contradiction, but error is. You, so-called oracles of a so-called powerful god, who can do everything and yet does nothing, are always pretending to guard the truth. I say that the god of the churches is a hindrance to human progress.”