The Seed in Indiana

If business and industry beat the bushes for the best young recruits, why shouldn't the Christian ministry do the same? For Indiana's Methodist Bishop Richard C. Raines, the question had a special significance: the Methodist Church needs 1,200 new ministers a year, but it is currently getting only about 650. To help him do something about it, a hard-driving Indianapolis insuranceman named Edward F. Gallahue borrowed an idea or two from business salesmanship.

Insuranceman Gallahue (American States Insurance Co.) laid out the campaign. Ministers in each of Indiana's 17 Methodist districts were asked to select one or more outstanding boys in their congregations who might be candidates for the ministry. Then, at a big get-together in Indianapolis, the boys were to be exposed to the arguments for devoting their lives to the church. Nothing high-pressure, though, said Bishop Raines--"We prepare the soil and plant the seed and then let God's sunshine do the work."

The young men turned out nearly 400 strong--some of them in crew cuts and dazzling bow ties. Methodist Walter H. Judd, Minnesota's medical-missionary Congressman, drew long applause when he spoke of the folly of chasing life's "glittering prizes" instead of choosing careers "you will be proud to look back on when you get to the end of the line."

Kermit Morrison of DePauw University, six-letter athlete, announced that he had reached a decision; it is going to be the ministry for him. "I can look around the room and count eight men who have made the same decision I have, and there's not one sissy among them . . . It's an opportunity to take something to humanity, and not something from it."

Last week, some of the young men registered at Indianapolis' Broadway Methodist Church for further discussion and field trips. They were joined by teen-age girls who wanted to become missionaries, church secretaries, Sunday school teachers or social workers. In all, the experiment netted 350 who were interested enough in church vocations to ask for more information. Insuranceman Gallahue picked up the tab for the whole affair: about $2,200.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.