In the last part San Francisco officials emptied all cemeteries, moving bodies out of town when the Bubonic Plague hit. Henry Halleck agrees to offer his name for the upcoming mayoral election. Ben meets with the unofficial boss of Chinatown who agrees to provide a safe house for some of the young, enslaved, prostitute girls.

Ben attended the next ministerial alliance meeting and was introduced by the Presbyterian pastor who had joined the month before. He first gave a report on the progress of the APG, Alcoholic Partnerships Group. They were up to eleven members who met twice a week, some of them even more often. Most of them had been sober since their first meeting.

“Pastors, and Brothers in Christ. As my friend said, I’m Ben Persons.”

The room erupted in applause.

Dumbfounded, Ben looked from one to the other, his mouth agape. Finally, the Methodist pastor stood and approached Ben. “Ben, we are all ministers of the gospel, Christian leaders. We all have our congregations that we care deeply about. But you have shown us Christ in action. You have shown us love, love for one another, and more importantly, love for the lost.”

The applause that died down while the man spoke, resumed.

Ben bowed his head, tears welling up. After a moment composing himself, he raised his hands toward heaven and began praying. “Thank you, heavenly father for the love you have for your people. Thank you for the Holy Spirit working in the lives of our brothers. Thank you for sending your son to offer us a way out of sin and into your holy presence. We worship you Father. We praise you Holy Spirit, and we glorify you Jesus.”

Ben looked to the amassed pastors, some in silent prayer, some staring in bafflement. “Amen?”

A chorus of “amens” rang back.

“Men what I have to report is that Dwight Moody has agreed to come to San Francisco for a week of meetings. He’ll be bringing others with him. I have taken it upon myself to arrange for the Grand Opera House for evening services, and the Boxer Stadium for daytime services.”

Mumbles crescendoed through the room.

“Please forgive my impertinence, or usurpation … Is that a word, Pastor?” Ben asked the Presbyterian pastor, a smile on his face.

“It is now,” he replied, an even greater smile adorning his.

“Every church is, of course, free to participate or not. I feel that the services will be a spiritual awakening, a revival, if you will. I expect little or no doctrine. That’s not what this is about. It’s about saving lost souls.”

Ben felt the mumbling among the pastors to be more favorably bent than previously.

“Men, for every seat available on Sunday mornings, there are more than twenty who could not find a seat to worship if they were inclined. My hope is that when the week is at a close... that next Sunday your churches will be filled and you will be announcing to those not able to fit in that you will offer another service following the first. And that you will be speaking with your deacons, or boards, or however your structure about building larger facilities. Some new churches may start up. And before anyone thinks otherwise, no, not me. I am not a pastor. That is not my calling.

“New churches, though, are not a threat. They would be welcome blessings. Imagine, a pew for every one of the 300,000 plus San Franciscans.”

The mumbles grew into words, and then into applause.

Again, Ben raised his hands. “It won’t happen without work, without plan, without organization. And it won’t happen if every one of the three thousand seats at the Grand are filled with your regular parishioners.”

Ben could see eyes crossing and brows furrowing. “And what of those who we hope have given their hearts to Christ in the meetings? Should they simply return to their lives of worldliness after Brother Moody returns to Chicago? And back to those souls who respond to the call of salvation in the meetings? How will they be led to Christ, individually if not someone at the altars ready to minister?”

“Glory, Ben? You have bitten the lion and we’re to tame it?” One of the pastors shouted.

It took a moment for the rest to catch up, but eventually another shouted, “Yes, he has. And yes, we will!”

Another of the pastors stood and spoke out. “You’ve all seen the flyers that Ben passes out when he preaches near one of our churches. Why, I saw one that had three different churches listed on the same sheet because we all sit on the same corner!”

“We could do that,” another pastor shouted. “A flyer with every church, address and service times.”

One of the first joiners of the alliance rose to stand beside Ben. “Brothers, we have time to organize. What say you to a manageable committee nominated and voted on by all to identify issues and make recommendations for discussion and review at our next meeting.

A round of ayes filled the room.

Ben sat down delighted to watch God move through his ministers.

The very few dissenters within the city, were not members of the alliance, though more would be joining when word got out about the Awakening.

+++

Ben made it a point to visit Henry as often as he thought appropriate without making a nuisance of himself. It was about two weeks from the alliance meeting where he introduced the Awakening meetings that he made his way to Henry’s office. He didn’t mind waiting in the lobby, not surprised to find a Bible there to keep him occupied while waiting for Henry to return from the courthouse.

“Ben, sorry to keep you waiting. Come in, come in.”

“Hello, Henry. A good day at the courthouse?”

“Not really, but justice was served. My client was guilty and is on his way to prison, but he has a chance to redeem himself. Pay his debt to society, and get out to live a free man for a while, anyway. What’s with you? Oh wait. You want some coffee, or something? No? Here, have a seat.

“You have been a busy man! The ministers’ alliance, the alcoholics group, the Salvation Army, the YMCA…”

Ben started to complain that it wasn’t all his doings.

“… no, don’t deny it. You either have a hand in it, or inspire others. You are a good man, Ben. A good man. Juana would be proud. Oh, and by the way, some of Juana’s endowment will go to the Grand and the Boxer fees.”

“Thank you, Henry. What I’m told, we got them for less than half their normal price.”

“I’m not surprised, the contacts you have.” Henry pointed upward, a twinkle in his eyes and smile.