Why shouldn’t I have faith?” Elizabeth Johnston once asked. “The manifestation of God’s help has ever been with the school. Trusting God is one of the most thrilling experiences man can enjoy.”1
In the grand tradition of Christianity, Mrs. Johnston wanted her boys to have the joy of that same relationship with their Heavenly Father, and saw to it that the school she founded at least gave them that opportunity. After all, it was God who had given her the charge, provided her with the courage to fight the battles, and met her every need time and time again. How could she fail to at least tell her boys his story?
No doubt there was another factor, at least in the minds of some, that made religious instruction altogether appropriate for such an institution. What harm could possibly be done by introducing these so-called bad boys to basic moral and spiritual values that might have a positive impact on their less than desirable behavior? An ample dose of the Bible might be the perfect cure for that affliction as well.
So it was with these two compelling reasons, Sunday School, worship services, and daily devotionals became a staple at the Alabama Boys’ Industrial School. It was not uncommon during this era, in fact, for biblical instruction to be found in state-sponsored institutions for youthful offenders all across the nation. In the latter part of the twentieth century, however, these programs came under fire and were largely curtailed due to concerns over the separation between church and state.
In the new millennium, however, religious strategies for dealing with delinquency have reappeared under the mantra of “faith-based programs.” The key factors that make these new efforts permissible are the availability of a wide variety of religious faiths in addition to Christianity, and the voluntary—rather than mandatory—nature of the programs.
The Christian faith is still the most prevalent religion found in today’s juvenile institutions due to its numerical strength in the American population and the more evangelistic approach of its followers.
Christianity was an ever-present influence from day one at ABIS. In a report from 1902, C.D. Griffin stated, “Different pastors of Birmingham, East Lake and Woodlawn have been very kind to assist us in our Sunday services, and if for some reason a minister fails to keep his appointment, we have the regular service ourselves with a Bible lesson and song service.”2 In his personal papers, Griffin also indicated that Mrs. Johnston herself sometimes taught the Sunday School class for the boys.3
When David Weakley assumed the day-to-day management of the school in 1905, Mrs. Johnston could not have found a more supportive ally in her beliefs, as he was also a devout Christian. In expressing his views on the Christian walk in his personal papers, Weakley quoted Maltbie Babcock, a leading theologian of the day: “Christianity is not a voice in the wilderness, but a life in the world. It is not an idea in the air, but feet on the ground going God’s way. It is not an exotic to be kept under glass, but a hardy plant to bear twelve months of fruit in all kinds of weather.”
Weakley continued by giving some of his own insights. “In a time of stress, when cold reason acknowledges defeat, and we find that philosophy and logic and all our calculated plans and rules have failed, and we are without goals, and fear and failure stalk by our side, and we are adrift in a jungle of doubt; it is then that faith is a waiting door. It is faith in God, faith in prayers, faith in ourselves and faith in the goodness of our fellow man that is a torch that lights the path to truth. Even as it is written, ‘Be ye faithful unto death, and I will give you a crown of life.’”
Weakley wrote of the efforts he and his staff made to impart this faith to the students. There were daily Bible readings in each dormitory, as well as during school. Bible classes were conducted each week and chapel services at least twice monthly.4 “We tried to make our religious services impressive and interesting,” he said. “The boys enjoyed singing hymns and discussing in an informal manner the high points of the Sunday School lesson. Our Chapel services, usually held on Sunday afternoons, were conducted by our regular Chaplain. We had our own vested choir with accompaniment by the Hammond organ and our orchestra.”5
Bush Chapel, built with funds donated by original board member Mrs. T. G. Bush.
In his annual report for 1915, the head of the academic department, Mr. Carr, provided greater detail on how religious instruction fit within the school’s program of study. “In the school, religion occupies a central position. As only one half of the boys attend school in the forenoon and the other half in the afternoon, devotional services are conducted in the study hall twice each day at the opening of the day’s work. A selection of scripture is read and such comments are made as will lead the boy to make his own application to life and to bring his heart ‘those eternal verities that shall unite humanity and develop a living consciousness of the truth that shall abide forever.’ Sectarian spirit and all expressions of denominational prejudice are excluded. ‘The great fundamental truths, the existence of God, the immortality of man, man’s responsibility, the reality of life beyond death, intimately related to the life we now live,’ are among the great truths presented and urged for recognition.”6
Some of those truths were accepted, as a number of the boys made public professions of their faith each year. Arrangements were then made with local ministers for each boy to join the church of his choice in the appropriate manner and generally this would result in a very meaningful service for all of those involved.
The scripture above the entrance of the chapel was specifically selected to speak to the hearts of the boys.
Elizabeth Johnston had a personal relationship with God and wanted nothing less for her boys.
On occasion, the boys were asked to put that new faith into action. One day, Mrs. Johnston was teaching a Sunday Bible class when she received a telegram that her grandson was in dire condition and might not survive. She slowly put the telegram in her lap as she regained her composure. “Boys,” she said quietly, “this telegram tells me one of my grandsons is not expected to live. Now I want you to put everything aside and silently pray for him.” All heads bowed instantly as the boys earnestly prayed for Mrs. Johnston’s loved one. A few hours later, another telegram came from Atlanta hailing the miracle that had confounded all of the attending physicians. The boy had rallied and was out of danger. No Bible story could have done as much in teaching the boys the wonder of prayer.7
Mrs. Johnston received a letter one day that confirmed the powerful witness she lived before the boys. The letter read, in part, “When you talk to us on Sundays in Chapel, it makes me feel as though I owe something to you. Since you have been talking to us I seem to be a changed boy. I don’t feel like I used to, but have a feeling of love for the helpless and poor.” Given Mrs. Johnston’s own feelings toward the disadvantaged, those words surely touched her heart.8
Weakley admitted, however, that some attempts at spirituality were completely lost, as indicated by the following episode.
“There were ten or twelve boys who expressed a desire to unite with the Baptist Church. A Baptist minister came to the School to make the arrangements. At that time we had a swimming pool for the smaller boys about three feet deep and thirty feet in diameter, with an elevated wall eighteen inches high. The pool was surrounded by sycamore and elm trees. It was a restful spot. When the minister saw this pool, he suggested he use it for the baptismal service, stating he thought an outside service, in such a beautiful setting, would be inspirational and impressive. I agreed.
“It was a Sunday afternoon; the sun was slipping to slumber in the West. All was quiet and peaceful. There was a prevalence of reverence and expectation. The minister took one of the boys to the center of the pool and uttered the words, ‘I baptize you in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost, amen.’ Evidently, he failed to give them the proper instructions, for when he said ‘amen,’ the boys thought he said ‘jump in,’ and they did—all in complete unison. They hit the water with a mighty splash, and all I remember is a pyramid of water ascending and cascading over the minister, completely obscuring him from view.
“In retrospect, I would like to know what happened to the first boy immersed, and also what happened to the minister,” he concluded. “The story may carry a moral. Frankly, I don’t know.”9
This was obviously not what Mrs. Johnston meant when she said trusting God was a “thrilling experience,” but most likely she was amused nonetheless.