Born: Campbellsburg, Kentucky, July 27, 1864.
Died: 1951.
When I wrote to Dr. Combs for some facts about himself as basis for a short sketch, he sent a most unique and entertaining account. Some of the humorous references are so characteristic of the man that a reproduction of them in their proper places will illustrate the real George Combs better than anything I could say.
"Was born July 27, 1864. Parents William Pryor and Elizabeth Frances Combs. Place, Campbellsburg, Kentucky. Of English and Irish stock. Great-grandfather Hamilton Wilson, an elder and charter member of old Cane Ridge church. December 23, 1885, married Martha Miller Stapp, daughter of Educator Dr. John S. Stapp, and granddaughter of Robert Augustus Broadhurst, Pres. Midway Orphan School. Three children--boys.
"Educated at Fairmount College, Home College, Kentucky University. Received Ph.D. degree from Wooster University, 1887. LL.D. degree from Drake University, 1897.
"First pastorate of five years at Shelbyville, Kentucky. Came to Kansas City, January 1, 1893. Just celebrated 24th anniversary of pastorate. The church building, furnishings, organ, etc, cost about $300,000.00. Book membership, 3,100.
"Have nibbled at a bit of outside ministry, chiefest of which are college and university addresses by the hundreds. Convention addresses and series of lectures to preachers."
As a preacher, he says: "I am likened to Henry Van Dyke, F. W. Robertson and Billy Sunday, and am really like nobody else, for which the other fellow may be duly grateful." Think of the three men referred to dwelling together in one man. But the description is not inappropriate, though it may seem an impossible combination. Dr. Combs possesses much of Van Dyke's beautiful spirit and fondness for exquisite imagery; while his broad yet healthful vision of the religion of Jesus Christ may constantly remind one of the freedom and original treatment everywhere manifest in the sermons of the peerless Robertson; and then in Dr. Combs, like Billy Sunday, all these things are on fire, and so much so as to make us forget all rules of elocution and think only of the burning message which the speaker is delivering.
Dr. Combs' personality does not specially contribute to the interest of his sermons, and yet paradoxical as it may seem, it is mainly his personality that helps to hold the attention of his great audience. He says, "I weigh 125 pounds when I am fat; am as ugly as sin; my redeeming trait is--not snoring."
Though he gives his first thought to his pulpit he has found time to write a few books of considerable literary excellence, viz., "The New Socialism," "Christ in Modern English Literature," "Some Latter-Day Religions," "The Call of the Mountains." Of these books he says: "Few people read them."
But Dr. Combs need not worry about his books. He is emphatically a preacher. He who speaks to thousands every Lord's Day occupies the grandest position for effecting immediate good that can be found in the whole round of human experience.
The conclusion of his letter to me is most delightful in its want of self-admiration. He says: "Have done little to chronicle. Read widely but not profoundly. Know a little about a great many things and not much about anything. Am called a scholar and know myself an ignoramus. Am glad in that I have never kow-towed either to the rich or the poor. Have never asked counsel of any man as to what I should preach, seeing that I have my commission from heaven. I try to keep the windows open out, do not believe the ten commandments are in need of daily revision. My faith doesn't spread over much territory but it goes deep. And--well, why should I be telling further about myself? Everybody has been good and gracious to me all my life and I have always received of appreciation and love far, far beyond my deserving."
Dr. Combs is childlike in his spirit, gentle, tender, and remarkably sympathetic, but when aroused, he is a flame of fire, a sort of personal tornado, and like John, though leaning on the Master's breast, a real "son of thunder." His preaching exhausts the whole gamut of human speech. Sometimes his voice sobs along the lowest notes, and melts the heart that listens, sometimes it trills through the highest ranges, and makes the very nerves tingle with delight as the music trips over the mountain peaks of the highlands of melody; and then again the lightning's flash, and the thunder's roar, until the storm of feeling has run its course, and the audience is suddenly landed in a safe place where the cold conclusions of logic have irresistible sway, and bring conviction to the waiting soul. Dr. Combs has all the colors of the rainbow in his preaching, but when these colors are blended, they make the white light of the Gospel message which is the power of God unto salvation to all who believe.
But no one can adequately describe Dr. Combs as a preacher. He is in a class by himself, and in some respects there is no simile that can be used to help draw a correct picture of his preaching. One must hear him several times to get a clear conception of the secret of his power.
As an evidence of how his church appreciates him, he has recently been given a year's vacation, for travel and recreation, so as to build up his health.