Spring of 1859
It was finished! Jacob had done it. With the help of his friends, Jacob had built his church. He walked through the sanctuary and lovingly traced every curve of the wood with his hand; every wall, every pew, every door and every window. Not that everything was finished of course. The windows lacked glass. Jacob could only hope that some skilled craftsmen would arrive willing to donate their time and their talent. Jacob had only brought a few Bibles and hymnals; he would need more. But all of that could wait. Besides, Jacob intended for this church ever to be a work in progress. He had resolved that this would be a church unlike any other.
Jacob stood at the pulpit, familiarizing himself with that intimidating view from above. He sat in the pews, testing that view from below. He spoke, he shouted, and he sang, familiarizing himself with the acoustics of the place. He walked up and down the aisles, looking all about as tears welled up within him. It was a work of beauty. It was the work of friends. It was a labor of love. Neither wind nor rain, neither snow nor sleet, neither the fear that stalks by night nor the terror that walks by noonday was enough to stop this wonderful work from taking its place upon the prairie. Jacob felt more filled with the Spirit than he had at any time since his ordination. He kneeled, he bowed his head, and he prayed with all his heart.
“Oh Lord, I dedicate this work of our hands to You. I consecrate this house upon the plains as a house of prayer and worship that You may be glorified by it. May all who enter here be filled with Your spirit, and leave with renewed vigor for Your work. Lord, I know that this house of wood is not truly Your church, for Your church is the body of brothers and sisters who will come here to be unified by Your name and worship You with one accord. Let them come, Lord. I pray for a congregation. As I have dedicated my life to Your service as Your shepherd, I pray for a flock. Let every pew be filled so that every heart may be lifted and every voice may sing. I pray these things in Your blessed name. Amen.”
At that moment Cassius ran through the front entrance. He was so excited that he could barely contain himself.“Brother Jacob, Brother Jacob, you gotta come see! Come outside Brother Jacob, you gotta see this!”
Curious as to what all of the excitement was about, Jacob rose and followed Cassius outside. He looked to the north, where Cassius was pointing. And there they were.
The first wave of settlers came riding across the plains, and Ruth rode at the head of their formation. Laughing with joy, Jacob ran out to meet them. He embraced his dear friend Ruth, though not so dear to him as she would have preferred. She held him tight, and vowed never again to let him go. After a long and loving embrace, Jacob found his tongue, “You came!”
Ruth smiled at him and replied, “Well I couldn’t stay sitting around in Boston and let you have all the fun out west, now could I?” Jacob merely shook his head by way of response.
One by one, they came. They came walking, they came on horseback, and they came riding on wagons. They were singles, they were couples, and they were families with children. They were young and old, they were rich and poor. They were doctors and lawyers, carpenters and blacksmiths, butchers, bakers, and candlestick makers. They were Republican and Socialist, they were immigrant and native-born, they were Protestant, Catholic, and Jewish. They had all left their individual lives behind to be united in the dream of a free Kansas. One by one, Jacob took them by the hand. One by one, Jacob thanked them for coming. One by one, Jacob blessed them for believing in his dream.
And so it came to pass that the fondest dreams of Jacob’s heart came true on that day. He gazed out at the very large assembly of friends old and new. A new church would be filled with congregants. A new city would rise up out of the wilderness. A new day would dawn. And Kansas would be free.
