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Oct. 7, 2026

October 8 | Moments Almanac | Today

October 8 | Moments Almanac | Today

On October 8, 1871, D. L. Moody stood before a packed Chicago audience and asked one of the most important questions a person can face: “What shall I do with Jesus?” He told them to think it over and return the following Sunday with their answer.

They never did.

That night, the Great Chicago Fire swept through the city. Farwell Hall burned, and Moody later said he deeply regretted ever telling people to wait.

Forty-seven years later, on October 8, 1918, Tennessee native Alvin York faced a very different moment of decision. A former hard-living mountain man turned devoted Christian, York had wrestled deeply with whether his faith permitted him to serve in war. Eventually convinced that he could serve without abandoning his convictions, he entered the fight—and on October 8 became one of the most celebrated soldiers of World War I.

Two men. Two October eighths. Two moments when conviction had to become action.

In this episode of Moments Almanac, we look at D. L. Moody, the Great Chicago Fire, Alvin York, and the old hymn sung that night in Chicago: “Today the Saviour Calls.”

Because sometimes the most dangerous word in the English language is tomorrow.

“Today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts.” — Hebrews 3:15

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SPEAKER_00

Welcome to Moments Almanac for October 8th. Sometimes the most dangerous word in the English language is tomorrow. On Sunday night, October 8th, 1871, D.L. Moody stood before the largest crowd he had ever drawn in Chicago. For five nights he had been preaching through the life of Christ, and that evening he brought his listeners to one final question. What shall I do with Jesus? It was the right question. But Moody made what he would later call one of the greatest mistakes of his ministry. He told people to go home, think about the question, and come back the following Sunday with their answer. Outside, the courthouse fire bell had begun to ring. No one thought much about it. Fire alarms weren't unusual in Chicago. Ira Sankey stood to sing an invitation written by Samuel Francis Smith called Today the Savior Calls. By the third verse, Sankey could barely be heard. Fire engines were racing past Farwell Hall. Bells were sounding across the city. The great Chicago fire had begun. Within hours, Farwell Hall itself was gone. Years later, Moody said that if he could recall that invitation to wait another week, he would give his right hand. Because some decisions shouldn't be postponed. Forty-seven years later, on another October 8th, another man faced a decision that had been years in the making. His name was Alvin York. York grew up on the Cumberland Plateau of Tennessee with a reputation as a fighter, a drinker, and what folks around Pall Mall might politely call a hellraiser. Then he met Christ, and everything changed. When America entered the First World War, York faced a crisis of conscience. His church opposed violence. York sought conscientious objector status and struggled deeply with the idea of taking another life. Army officers talked through the scriptures with him. Then York received a 10-day furlough and he went home to Tennessee. He prayed, he wrestled, and he eventually came to believe that he could serve his country without abandoning his faith. Then came October 8, 1918. During the Meuse Argonne offensive in France, York's unit came under devastating German machine gun fire. After other leaders were killed or wounded, York found himself in command. The quiet Tennessee Christian, who wasn't sure he could carry a rifle, moved forward under fire. By the time it was over, York and seven other Americans had captured 132 German soldiers. He would receive the Medal of Honor. Two October 8ths, two men, two very different battlefields. But perhaps one lesson. There comes a moment when thinking must become deciding, when conviction must become action, when tomorrow is no longer an adequate answer. Moody learned it while Chicago burned. York learned it while he was praying in the mountains of Tennessee and living out that decision on the battlefield in France. And perhaps that's why the old hymn sung that night in Chicago seems almost prophetic. Today the Savior calls, not someday, not when life settles down, not when we're certain of every consequence. Today. As Hebrews says, today, if you hear his voice, do not harden your hearts. Some moments are scattered throughout history, but every once in a while they remind us that the most important moment we have is this one. And that's Moment Solomon for October 8th. I hope you'll join me tomorrow. Until then, take heart. Notice the scattered moments and share the grace.