A church built for Reformed Presbyterians, a small Pittsburgh-based (now actually Irwin-based) denomination with a long history. The cornerstone was laid in 1892, and the building was dedicated in 1893. It is now kept up beautifully as the El-BethEl Temple. Old Pa Pitt spent some time looking for the architect, but the church was built just after a scandal enveloped its minister, and that was the thing that occupied the newspapers. Reformed Presbyterians believed that the government of the United States was illegitimate because freedom of religion was one of its principles, whereas a legitimate government must be explicitly Christian. The Wilkinsburg minister refused to accept that all people who voted in elections or held any government office must be excommunicated, and the little R. P. teapot had a big typhoon. Because the tempest may be amusing to watch from afar, we reprint an article from the Press, June 13, 1891, p. 4.

It May Be Ultra-Reformed.

The action of the congregation of the Reformed Presbyterian church in the East End in re-electing Rev. O. B. Milligan as their pastor makes it difficult to understand what effect the suspension of the seven dissenting ministers by the Reformed Presbyterian synod will have. Mr. Milligan has been declared by the synod to be no longer a Reformed Presbyterian minister. In the face of that, his Reformed Presbyterian congregation—that has always held a good opinion of him, and does still—has declared that he shall continue to be the pastor. This church is in the peculiar position of being independent of the main body so far ss the choice of a pastor is concerned. It is in the hands of a corporation that owns the property—and in a general way the congregation. They say they want Mr. Milligan for their pastor, and Mr. Milligan will remain.

The synod has a difficult task on its hands. It cannot allow a suspended minister to keep his position in the Reformed Presbyterian church, and yet there seems no way of excluding Mr. Milligan. Obviously the only thing for the synod will be to refuse to recognize this particular congregation. But if the congregation insists upon calling itself Reformed Presbyterian, as it probably will, where will the synod be then? There seems a probability of two branches of the Reformed Presbyterian church, with the awful likelihood of Mr. Milligan calling theirs the Reformed Reformed Presbyterian church.

The Reformed Presbyterian Church of North America has softened its principles a little since then, but it remains dedicated to the idea of Christ as the absolute king in government as well as church matters. Today its nationwide membership is about equivalent to the membership of two fairly large Catholic parishes.

This building replaced a much smaller building from 1845, which was demolished to make way for it. When it was dedicated on July 2, 1893 (by which time the Rev. R. C. Wylie was pastor, and the threatened ultra-reform had been averted), the Post described it as an “innovation in church architecture,” though the description makes it sound like another instance of the popular Akron Plan.¹

Yesterday was an eventful day in the history of the Reformed Presbyterian church of Wilkinsburg. The occasion was the dedicatory services of their new house of worship, which has only been recently completed at a cost of over $22,000, including the lot. The new building stands on the corner of South avenue and Center street, and both the inside and outside of the structure are innovations in church architecture. The inside arrangement is very convenient, for both the church and Sabbath school departments are on the same floor and can be thrown into one large apartment by simply raising portieres which separate them.

The church proper is built on the plan of an auditorium and the seats are built in a circular fashion similar to an opera house. The floor slants toward the pulpit and the acoustics are perfect. From the ceiling, which is finished in hard wood, hang two beautiful chandeliers, which contain 127 incandescent lights. When these are all lighted the church is transformed into a fairy palace and the effect is wonderful. A fine brussels carpet covers the floor and the other furnishings are in keeping with the structure.

This is the sort of arrangement Pittsburgh’s distinguished Catholic architect Edward Weber would later describe as “the frightful auditorium plan.” But Weber’s Catholic principles were based on the idea of liturgical worship. When preaching is the main attraction (and Reformed Presbyterians refused all music except the Psalms), a theatrical arrangement makes sense: the church is a lecture hall, not a place for processions and ceremonies.