Steve P. Holcombe, the Converted Gambler: His Life and Work

I called on the President of the Club, who is an infidel, told him I wanted that property for my Mission work. Said he: "Mr. Holcombe, I am not a Christian, neither do I believe in the churches, but I do believe in the kind of work that you are doing. I shall withdraw until the Holcombe Mission is done." We soon had the property.

Since my conversion I have tried to be a man, just as much as before. As Dr. Pentecost said the other day: "When I put off the old man, I did not put on the old woman," and by this I mean no disrespect to the dear old women, for many of them have more manhood in them than some of us men, and my wife is one of them. What I mean is, that since I have become a Christian I have not lost any of my manhood.

When I was a gambler, I had gambling houses all over the country. The object was to get other people's money without giving them any equivalent, in order to gratify my base passion. I could not, of course, call on the police for protection, as my business was not legitimate. Hence, I had to protect myself, which I did at all hazards.

So, when I opened a house for the Lord, to win souls for Him, I determined I would take care of it at any cost. I think some who are engaged in Christian work are too stilted, others are too lax. I have tried to be both stiff and limber; when it was a matter of no consequence, to bend like the willow; when it was something vital to my Master's cause, to be as stiff as steel. In other words I have tried to be "all things to all men" that I might win some.

I think all Missions ought to have a leader. Ours has one. I am the leader of the meetings. Not that I do all the talking, but I look out for the details.

I have a time for opening and a time for closing the meeting, and I always close at the time. If my opening time is 7:30, I begin the meeting if there is no one there but myself, which, however, has never occurred; and if my closing hour is at 9 o'clock, I close at 9 – not 9:30 or 10. We have in Louisville a class of poor people who attend the Mission and who work every day. They must be at their places of labor at an early hour in the morning. They love to be at the meeting, and when they know that they will be dismissed promptly, they will come. I feel that if I were to keep these men and women up till 10, 11 or 12 o'clock, and let them get up at 5 and go to a hard day's work, while I lie in bed until 8 or 9, that I would be a robber.

Now, I do not say that I go home at 9 o'clock; for if there is a single one anxious enough about his soul's eternal salvation to stay till the dawning of the morning, I will remain with him. I simply say that I have a time for opening and a time for closing, and I keep promptly to it.

I have no set way of conducting the meetings. I try to take advantage of the situation and do the best I can under the circumstances.

We always have a Scripture lesson read and a few remarks by the leader. If I ask him to speak twenty minutes, I mean twenty minutes; and, if he is a bishop, I will stop him when his time is up. I don't ask you to agree that this is right – I am only telling you how I conduct a Gospel meeting. After this we have Christians to give their experience, never allowing more than three minutes, and I make it my business to know what kind of lives those who testify are living. If one gets up and begins to talk about the love of Jesus, who I know has that day been drinking, or in a house of prostitution, I stop him right there. I do not allow him to talk, and injure the cause, and then tell him afterward. I say, "Brother, we don't want to hear from you to-night," and so I stop him at once.

I am very careful as to who testifies in my meetings and what they say. If a man who is not a Christian undertakes to exhort others to become Christians, I stop him, because he is trying to talk about something of which he knows nothing, and this is one of the hardest things in the world to do.

Where everybody is invited to take part in a meeting, we are apt to have cranks to deal with. They must be checked and kept down rather than encouraged. By cranks I mean those who have eccentric and unsound views, and think that nobody else can know as well about these things as themselves.

I was holding a series of Gospel meetings in Atlanta, Ga., on one occasion, and had been talking from Acts ii., 38, "And ye shall receive the gift of the Holy Ghost." In the address I undertook, as best I could, to show that He, the Holy Ghost, convinces men of sin, and that He reveals Jesus to poor sinners as their sin bearer and life giver, and that it is He that produces that change in men which we call conversion or regeneration or the new birth; and that He, the Holy Ghost, is the comforter of God's people, in their loneliness and trials and conflicts here in this world of exile, as well as our teacher to guide us into the truth. When I had gotten through, I said, "Now we will have short talks from others, and no one will talk more than three minutes." Up jumped a street preacher, who began saying that I had been talking about the Holy Ghost, but I did not know what I was talking about. He knew all about Him, and would tell them about Him. (This was pretty trying, but I kept mum, however.) He then began a harangue. When his time was up, I stopped him. "You are going to limit the Holy Ghost, are you? You are going to take the responsibility of stopping Him, are you?" "No, but I am going to stop you, and that at once." And at once he stopped.

I never allow those who testify to abuse others. Some will begin to talk about the gambling hells. I stop them and say: "No man will go farther to stop these things than I, but this is not the place for that kind of talk." Others, as soon as they are converted, begin to find fault with the churches, and abuse the ministers. I do not approve of this, and I discourage it. I am sorry to know that many who are conducting Gospel meetings are inclined to find fault with Christians, magnifying themselves and their work and underrating the churches and the work of their faithful pastors.

Some of these Mission workers have spent the best part of their lives in sin, never looking into the Bible – have been converted only a short time; have had a little success; got the big-head, and think they know better how to do God's work than those dear men who have been good all their lives and made a study of God's Word.

My dear brethren, in the Mission work, we must remember that all who have ever done any mighty work for God have been trained for it, and trained slowly. Moses, you remember, when he was going to his work down in Egypt, commenced killing people. He was the great chieftain, and was going to deliver his brethren by killing his enemies. This was not the way God wanted it done. God saw that there was good material in Moses, and that He could use him, but he must be trained. So He sent him away to the solitudes of Horeb and Sinai, and kept him there forty years. Then when God called him to go down and bring His people out, he had learned the lesson God wanted him to learn, had gotten down in the dust, was humbled, and he said: "Who am I, Lord?" Moses had gotten more of the Holy Ghost. The more we get of the Holy Ghost the closer we get to God. The more we see of Him, and the more we see of God, the less we think of ourselves; the more insignificant we become in our own eyes.

The Twelve had a grand work to do, but they were slowly trained for it. So, then, let us young converts, whose work God has honored and blessed, be very careful how we magnify ourselves, and underrate the regular ministry. These men are doing a noble work in their respective fields, and they are just as ready and willing to take hold of the poor outcast as we Mission workers are.

There are preachers who are occupying pulpits, where they are getting twenty-five hundred or three thousand dollars a year, and they are doing just as much to save poor drunkards as we ignorant, humble Mission workers are.

You who were at the Chicago Convention last year remember what Dr. Lawrence told us about taking one of these poor, wretched drunkards to his beautiful home; how, notwithstanding he was full of vermin, he had him take a bath, burned his clothes, put clean ones on him, gave him a bed and took care of him as a brother. I tell you, my friends, I was touched by that story as well as taught a valuable lesson. I know of many instances of the same kind that I might tell.

You remember Dr. John A. Broadus, a well-known Baptist minister in Louisville. I know him well. He has been one of my best friends. Not very long before I left home, a drunkard came to the Mission and showed me a note from Dr. Broadus, saying: "This man has called on me for help. I do not like to give him any money, as he is under the influence of liquor. Give him whatever you think best, and I will settle the bill." I asked the man, as I knew him well: "How did you happen to go to Dr. Broadus?" "Because I had heard so many say that he had helped them." I gave him nothing. My friends, we must not underrate the willingness of the preachers to help the poor outcast, for they are much interested in their very welfare.

I love the Missions and the Mission work. Just at this present time, the Missions have got a boom over the country, but if we are not very careful how we talk and act, the Missions will suffer. And the only reason some of them have not quit already is because those who support them, for want of time to hunt up real results, have had to take printed reports.

It is easy for us to find fault with Christians, rich Christians, and say they are cold and indifferent about the souls of men, but the history of the church proves that this is a great mistake. These Missions have to be supported by rich Christians, and when you find a man that has got much money, you will find that he is not a fool. He is generally a man with a long head and farsightedness. He wants to see where his money is going, and what is being done with it. If you use it properly, he will give it liberally. If he finds that you are one of those fellows that want to give his money to every beggar that comes along, he will stop his subscription at once. These are simple facts. If we want this Mission work to succeed we have got to be very careful.

I never allow any begging in my Mission, I don't care how pitiable the object may be. When tramps want food, I send them to the wood yard to work for it. If men will not work, neither shall they eat of the money intrusted to me for spiritual work.

I have no indiscriminate praying. When I want a prayer, I want to know something about the man or woman who is to make it. I ask some one who, I have good reason to believe, is a true Christian, that is, who walks and talks with God. I do not care about their name or denomination. I feel that there is a great responsibility in going to God for these poor sinners, and I want the best man or woman that I can get to talk to God for them. I say: "I am going to call on some one to pray. I don't want you to pray for Africans, Chinese or any other of the heathen nations here. When you go home, you can pray for them all night if you want to, but now we want you to pray for this special work."

I believe in good singing, and try to have it. I would like to have a hundred in the choir. I seldom have over two persons. I suppose the reason is that I will not allow any one to sit on my platform and sing these sweet hymns unless I have good reason to believe they are living pure, holy, consistent Christian lives. I think the man or woman who sits in the choir ought to be as good as he who stands in the pulpit.

Some will come to me and say: "So-and-so is a fine singer; has such a fine voice." "What church does he or she belong to?" "Oh, they are not members." "Well, then, excuse me, if you please." "But that might save them!" "I shall not try the experiment."

I have polite ushers to welcome the people, and to shake hands with them as they come in and also as they go out, and invite them back. They are also supplied with tracts for distribution, tracts that have passed under my observation, as I allow nobody to distribute tracts unless I know what they are.

I try to keep the run of the converts; in fact, I try to know all about them. I try to get them into some church of their choice, that one which they will feel the most at home in and where they will get the right sort of care. It is a very easy thing to get one of these poor drunkards, who hasn't got any place to sleep or anything to eat, to say, "I am going to try and be a better man and follow Christ!" It is a very easy thing, I say, and the poor fellows mean it. But, oh! my friends, how hard it is to get them up to the sticking point. They want to be watched over and given the very best nursing. If I had not had the very best care and nursing of one of the most godly of ministers, I do not think I should be standing before you to-day a Christian man.

I try to follow them up and help the pastors to nurse them. In order to keep track of them we use a book, something like a bank check-book. When they want to unite with some church, we give them a certificate of introduction. In it I ask the pastor to let me know when it is presented. On the stub I take the man's name, age, residence, where from, to whom introduced, with space for remarks as to future career, etc. If he has a home, we visit him at his home, and if he has not, I invite him to visit me at my home at any time, day or night, which is in the same building over the Mission, and we talk together and pray together.

Question. "Will you please state whether you ever recommend fasting as a means of keeping the body under?"

Answer. "I think it is a good idea. I think fasting a good thing to keep the body under. Owing to my poverty, since I have become a Christian, I have had little to feed on. This necessary self-denial has enabled me to keep my poor body down, and from betraying me into sin. No man was ever a greater slave to his passions than I. My passion for gambling was so great I would have committed murder to gratify it. I was very licentious. I just gave loose reins to my passions; but to-day, I thank God, I can stand up before you and say that I am complete master of myself. I know it is a help to live a plain life."

Q. "How many meetings a week do you hold?"

A. "We have them every night."

Q. "Do the men go to the churches when you send them? Do you prepare them?"

A. "I do not hurry them into the churches. And yet I don't say they must be converted before they go in. When a man is sick of sin, willing to give it up, I think he is about as ready for the church as we can get him."

Q. "Do you have much or little Bible reading in the services?"

A. "We do not have much Bible reading. I know that it is the power of God unto salvation; but the class of men who attend Missions, as a rule, are in no condition to be profited by a long Bible reading. The mission of the Missions is to stop these men in their downward course, put them to thinking, get them into churches; then have the Bible read and explained to them by those who are more competent than I am."

Q. "How long do you hold service?"

A. "Exactly one hour and a half; never more, sometimes a little less. The first half hour is taken up in prayer and singing, the other hour in exhortation and testimonies and prayers for the inquirers. After dismissing, we remain with any anxious ones."

Q. "When do you have your converts' meeting?"

A. "Every Sunday morning, beginning at 9:30 o'clock and closing at 10:30, in time for them to get to church."

Q. "Do the churches take good care of the converts?"

A. "As a rule, yes. Some better than others."

Q. "Do the converts come to your Mission after they have joined the church?"

A. "Oh, yes, sir. They feel more at home in the Mission than they do in church, because it was there they entered upon the Christian life. Many of our Christian workers make a great mistake. They find fault with the churches because they don't receive these tramps – I must call them tramps – in their filthy condition and give them the best seats, etc. I want to say right here that a clean church, where clean people go, is no place for a body of tramps. We must remember, my friends, that people who are clean, who have good clothes and clean homes, also have some rights to be considered. I say it is not right to take these people into a fine church, and put them side by side with the clean ones until they themselves are thoroughly clean. I took fifty or sixty of them into a church once, but afterward I was aware that I had made a great mistake. The Mission is the place to clean them up, and then send them to a clean church, and they will feel better themselves, and be warmly welcomed by the members. I don't like dirt any better than other folks, but some one has to do this work, and I am perfectly willing to do it."