Religion: Recorded Solace

A few nights ago I was in the throes of a terrific battle against the impulse to drink. For me, it was a life-and-death struggle. I had picked up and put away a card passed to me by a friend which contained your Dial-a-Prayer number. I called the number, and this is what I heard:

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is perfected in weakness. When we admit our weakness and call upon God for help, his divine power flows into our lives and turns defeat into victory."

The turning point in the struggle came with those inspiring words, and I won the battle with God's help.

This letter to Dr. John Sutherland Bonnell of Manhattan's Fifth Avenue Presbyterian Church is typical of the new kind of mail he has been getting since he installed "Dial-a-Prayer"—the newest contribution of science to salvation. Each day Dr. Bonnell records a new 30-second message on a magnetic drum, which is played back all day by a special machine.* Each hour an average 800 calls come in on ten trunk lines attached to the machine. The number (Circle 6-4200) is listed under the church's name as "Prayer Telephone," and is circulated on cards.

Life Line. No one knows how many similar gimmicks are in operation, but during the past few years they have spread so fast as to become almost a characteristic feature of U.S. religion. In the New York City area there are at least three other installations, in New England five. Detroit's suburban Highland Park Presbyterian Church (one of four in Michigan) lists its "Lifeline" phone number in the newspapers, and when Minister Robert C. Young, 36, hears from his office the low buzz of a new call, he makes a short, silent prayer for the caller.

Denver's Dial-a-Prayer is sponsored by an organization of Catholic women telephone workers called "Our Lady of the Bell," and averages 600 calls a day. The state of Washington has at least 17 telephone prayer services; when Seattle's University Presbyterian Church installed one last June, calls jammed lines for five hours, blew fuses, and threw the Kenwood exchange out of commission until the telephone company put in supplementary "disaster" service. In San Francisco the Christian Evangelical Church claims some 100,000 calls each month. And in booming Los Angeles, the Y.M.C.A.'s Dial-for-Inspiration handles an average 10,000 calls every 24 hours.

Pep Talks. Not all the recorded messages are "prayers."' Pastor Grace Faus of the Divine Science Church in Washington, D.C., for instance, uses a one-minute "sermonette." "Do we realize," she may ask, "that we are an activity and creation of the mind of God? In God there cannot be boredom, fatigue, or a lack of energy . . . Let us declare that we are alive with enthusiasm and vitality for every good endeavor . . . God love you."

Others go in for frank pep talks. The Rev. Herbert Garner of Battle Creek's First Presbyterian Church begins his messages with commands such as "Face Issues!" "Don't worry!" "Keep your temper!" Sample message: "Cheer up: the world needs people who are cheerful as much as it needs anything! Some are wise, some wealthy, skillful or famous. But all of us can be cheerful! It doesn't cost anything; in fact, it pays big dividends!"