Billy Sunday

There’s a bar in Chicago called Billy Sunday, which I find ironic, given that its namesake was a temperance activist. His “Get on the Wagon” abstinence sermon was instrumental in passing Prohibition in 1920. Billy Sunday (1862-1935) never knew his dad, who died in the Civil War. Billy went to live at the Soldier’s Orphans’ Home at age 10 and learned to play baseball well enough to be offered a contract to play for the Chicago White Stockings in 1880, precursor to the Chicago Cubs. He played eight seasons of professional baseball. He was an ordinary hitter (.248 average}, a good fielder (in an era before fielders used gloves) and a superb base stealer (second only to Ty Cobb). In 1886, Billy was converted to Christ and became an evangelist after baseball. He was the Billy Graham of the early 20th century, barnstorming the country to deliver the gospel in exuberant style. When criticized for his earthy, plain-speaking manner, Billy replied, “I want to preach the gospel so plainly that men can come from the factories and don’t have to bring a dictionary.” An excerpt from his “Teach us to Pray” sermon illustrates his vivid preaching, “When you pray in your pews on Sunday, ‘Thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven,’ it means nothing unless you live it on Monday. I don’t care how loud your wind-jamming in prayer meetings may be if you go out and skin somebody in a horse deal the next day…You go to a sewing society to make mosquito netting for the Eskimo and blankets for the Hottentots and instead you sit and chew the rag and rip some woman up the back.” His conversational manner in prayer is evident in his prayer that follows here.  It challenges me to pray honest prayers: