Moving Beyond Female Ministers and Missionaries

Much of what has been written about women in American religious history has featured those relatively few who were evangelists, teachers, and missionaries. The reasons for this emphasis are obvious. Most of this historiography came about as a result of various feminist impulses in America. Those who were looking for religious heroines found them in those women who aspired to the pulpit, or to at least to some greater public role in the life of the church.[1] Essentially, historians of women and religion have imitated an older, traditional way, one that emphasized leading men, great events, and turning points.

Meanwhile, religious historians who come from conservative and traditional circles have typically ignored the stories of female preachers from the past. This has left them with not as much to say about women, at least not much that was obvious.[2] Consequently, only some writers have told us only some of the stories of those women who represent just a tiny fraction of the devout in American history.

A better understanding of the significance of women in American religious history will require an approach that more closely examines the lives that almost all of them lived, the sorts of contributions they typically made. Along this line, one unexplored avenue is the role women have played in the establishment of new congregations. An overview of Stone-Campbell church planting in Indian Territory from 1888 until Oklahoma statehood in 1907 reveals that several new congregations began with the efforts of women. For example, the church at Ardmore in present-day Carter County was formed in 1888 when "Mrs. Sophia Simpson, the Cook sisters, and Mr. and Mrs. R. W. Campbell" began meeting each Sunday to study the Bible and observe the Lord's Supper.[3] A congregation at Silver City, now a ghost town in present-day Grady County, began in 1889 when Aunie Erwin and new arrival Meta Chestnutt "went to work in earnest, teaching the Bible every Lord's Day." In 1890, "when the Rock Island Railroad came through," the little congregation along with the rest of the town moved about seven miles west to be near the new tracks. This was the beginning of present-day Minco, Oklahoma. There, under the leadership of Chestnutt, who had come to Indian Territory in order to teach school, the church continued to "meet regularly each Lord's Day to study and teach the Word, break bread and contribute of our means to the Lord." By 1895, the church had grown "from two to some fifty or sixty."[4] About eighteen miles to the south of Minco, at Chickasha, a congregation began around 1892 sometime after the arrival of Mrs. Lillian Bohart Welsh, a staunch Disciple who sought out like-minded believers.[5] The Christian Church at McAlester, Oklahoma, was formed in 1893 after "Mrs. W. S. Ambrose and Mrs. Hammond Holler," decided to raise the money they needed in order to bring evangelist J. Harry Barber from Paris, Texas, just south of the Red River, to conduct a revival meeting.[6] A congregation began at Wagoner around 1895, when "Mrs. J. R. Thompson took the first step . . . by organizing a Sunday School in her home." Soon, Mrs. Thompson had twenty students. The Christian Church was organized sometime later when a preacher from Fort Worth, Texas, conducted a series of evangelistic meetings there.[7] A Stone-Campbell congregation began at Poteau in 1900 when a Mrs. McKenna, described as "a loyal Disciple," arranged for a church facility to be built there. The small congregation was not able to pay the mortgage and eventually sold its building to the Episcopal Church. Nevertheless, when evangelist W. S. Deartherage visited Poteau in 1916, he discovered a small group of Disciples. They formed the nucleus of what emerged as a permanent congregation.[8]

What these stories begin to reveal is that for every woman in Stone-Campbell history who preached to a mixed audience there were a thousand or more who established congregations, taught Bible classes, supported preachers and missionaries, and, above all, nurtured the next generation of believers.

Notes

[1] In Stone-Campbell historiography, two good examples are C. Leonard Allen, Distant Voices: Discovering a Forgotten Past for a Changing Church (Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 1993), esp. ch. 4, "Your Daughters Shall Prophesy,." See also ch. 17, "The New Woman"; and Bonnie Miller, "Restoration Women Who Responded to the Spirit Before 1900," Leaven 16, no. 1 (2008), accessed February 20, 2021, https://digitalcommons.pepperdine.edu/leaven/vol16/iss1/5.

[2] Again, in Stone-Campbell historiography, a good example is the website titled The Restoration Movement.com. The site is managed by Scott Harp, a conservative preacher among the Churches of Christ. Although it contains a large number of biographical sketches of male leaders, its page titled "Great Women Of The Restoration Movement" includes a total of six links to biographies of female leaders, accessed February 20, 2021, https://www.therestorationmovement.com/women.htm.

[3] Stephen J. England, Oklahoma Christians: A History of Christian Churches and of the start of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) in Oklahoma (St. Louis, MO: Bethany Press, 1975), 55.

[4] Meta Chestnutt, "Minco, Ind. Ter.," The American Home Missionary 1 (April 1895), 62. See also England, Oklahoma Christians, 56-57. For a brief history of Silver City, see John W. Morris, Ghost Towns of Oklahoma (Norman, OK: University of Oklahoma Press, 1978), 173-74.

[5] England, Oklahoma Christians, 58.

[6] Ibid., 59. Apparently, the next year, Barber made a follow up visit to McAlester. "Local Mention," South McAlester Capital July 26, 1894, includes the following note: "Rev. J. Harry Barber closed an interesting meeting here last week. He is an entertaining preacher."

[7] England, Oklahoma Christians, 60.

[8] Ibid., 63-64.

J. J. Trott: Missionary to the Cherokees, 4

On March 6, 1856, J. J. Trott sent a letter from his home in Franklin College, Tennessee, to the Gospel Advocate magazine in Nashville. He explained that he had just returned home from a three thousand mile trip through Arkansas, Missouri, and the Cherokee Nation, Indian Territory, in what is now northeastern Oklahoma. Wisely, he had avoided the deadly chaos over slavery in what came to be known as Bleeding Kansas.

The trip, which took up the previous November through February had Trott traveling in frigid conditions "by steamboat, railroads, stage, horseback, and sometimes on foot." He was disappointed that although he had been authorized by the American Christian Missionary Society to solicit funding for his proposed Indian mission, he had managed to collect only $166.

The churches had contributed their thousands to Bethany College and Christian University, and their hundreds for Revision, and therefore came to the sage conclusion, that a few dimes or dollars was all that they could and ought to do for the conversion of the children of Shem![1]

(If you happen to serve as a missionary, or you work with a large, multi-staff church, it might be some consolation to know that your never-ending competition for resources is not a new one).

In spite of the cold weather, Trott enjoyed his time in Indian Territory. While in the Cherokee Nation, he "preached at several important points" and visited with many old acquaintances and friends he had first met in Georgia over twenty years before, prior to the removal of the Cherokee people to the West.

A man of his day, Trott noted with satisfaction that the Cherokees had advanced in all of the ways regarded by Euro-Americans as marks of civilization: large-scale agriculture, animal husbandry, frame and brick home construction, and high rates of literacy resulting from a modern school system. "Thus," he wrote, "we see that the Cherokees have all the means of improvement. All they need in a religious point of view is more missionaries to them in applying the means." He observed that the Moravians, Presbyterians, Baptists, and Methodists already had "missionaries, mission schools, and churches among the Cherokees." Would the Christian churches in the United States continue to do less?[2]

Notes

[1] J. J. Trott, "The Indian Mission," Gospel Advocate (April 1856), 110. Christian University was the original name of the school that came to be known in 1917 as Culver-Stockton College. See George R. Lee, "Culver-Stockton College," Encyclopedia of the Stone-Campbell Movement, 258.

[2] Trott, "The Indian Mission," 111.

James J. Trott: Missionary to the Cherokees, 2

In the fall of 1830, James J. Trott, a Methodist missionary to the Cherokee Indians in Georgia, was immersed into Christ at Overall's Creek, four miles from Murfreesboro, Tennessee.[1] Upon hearing the news of Trott's baptism, Methodist leaders set out to diminish his influence. By that time, he had served among their clergy for nearly a decade. Yet, the next published minutes of the regional Methodist conference included the following note: "James J. Trott, without an appointment." No reason was given.[2]

Trott soon realized that his separation from the Methodists was inevitable. Not only were they refusing to employ him anymore, more importantly, his disagreements with the denomination extended far beyond questions about the proper subject and mode of baptism. In the spring of 1832, he wrote a letter to a Mr. McLeod, Methodist Superintendent of Cherokee Missions. Trott stated that in addition to the practice of sprinkling infants, he had come to reject the authority of all human creeds and the denominational habit of treating human opinions as though they were matters of revealed faith. In particular, he renounced the notion, spelled out in the Methodist book of discipline, that the Lord expected him to adhere to John Wesley's creeds as his standard for teaching. He also rejected the polity of the Methodist Church with its four orders of bishops and five types of tribunals. He concluded his letter by describing his predicament and announcing his decision:

Thus, you see, I am compelled to refrain from preaching what I believe to be the truth, to preach what I cannot believe, to suffer expulsion, or to withdraw. I prefer the latter.[3]

From then on, Trott considered himself a mere Christian and associated with the movement that Alexander Campbell called "the present reformation."

But this change did not dampen his commitment to making disciples among the Cherokee Indians. As noted in the previous post, in the early 1830s, the State of Georgia had brutally persecuted Trott, along with dozens of other missionaries, because he refused to take an oath of loyalty to the state which denied all Indian land claims. Still, according to the Cherokee Census Roll of 1835, he was then still residing in Georgia. According to the census, he lived near Oothcaloga Creek where he owned a mill. The record further indicates that Trott, whose first wife died in 1830, had since remarried, and that the two children from the first marriage were also living with him.[4]

Notes

[1] Tolbert Fanning, "James J. Trott: Messenger of the Church of Christ at Franklin College, Tenn., to the Cherokee Nation," Gospel Advocate 11 (March 25, 1869), 271-73.

[2] James J. Trott, Letter to Alexander Campbell, Millennial Harbinger 3, no. 8 (August 6, 1832), 389.

[3] Ibid., 389-90.

[4] Copies of Manuscripts in the Office of the Superintendent for the Five Civilized Tribes, Muskogee, Oklahoma: Cherokee Census Roll of 1835, Compiled from Original Record selected by Grant Foreman, 14: 224. The entire entry for James J. Trott reads as follows: "Three Cherokees, 1 white marriage; 2 readers of English, they owned a mill; one weaver, 1 spinster, 2 descendants of reservees."

Silas E. and Charlcy Kennedy Family Plot, Greenhill Cemetery, Davis, Oklahoma

On Highway 77 in Davis, Oklahoma

Back on June 2nd, Michele and I were traveling through Oklahoma on our way to Nashville, site of the annual Christian Scholars' Conference. Part of my plan was for us to make our way to the small town of Davis in south-central Oklahoma.

For many years Davis was home to Silas E. Kennedy, his wife, Charlcy, and their family. It appears that Silas was born and raised in Wetumpka, Alabama, not far from Montgomery. As a teenager, he served in the Confederate army. I'm interested in him because by the time he came to Indian Territory in the 1890s, Silas was a preacher among the Disciples of Christ. After coming to Indian Territory, he spent some time in Chickasha. Later, he and Charlcy moved to Davis, where they spent the rest of their lives.

Michele's got a snake phobia. She really doesn't like them. So she's not a fan of walking around in cemeteries either. Sure enough, she volunteered to stay in the rental car while I plodded around for nearly an hour through the Greenhill Cemetery. There were sign posts for the rows. But none of them had letters or numbers on them. Meanwhile, the antics of a large group of squirrels kept Michele entertained. I almost gave up, but finally happened upon the Kennedy family plot. Click on any of the photos for an enlarged view.

Below are two photos of the single headstone for Charlcy and Silas E. Kennedy. In the full shot, notice the name KENNEDY on the base. Also, the black metal piece near the ground is a C.S.A. marker. I have no information about when it was attached to the stone. According to Jay S. Hoar in his book Callow, Brave and True: A Gospel of Civil War Youth (Gettysburg, PA: Thomas Publications, 1999), p. 230, Silas E. Kennedy, from Alabama, was wounded at the Battle of Shiloh, southwestern Tennessee (April 6-7,1862). He was barely thirteen years old.

P.S. In his book Indian Territory (1901), D. C. Gideon provides a brief description of Davis and its early history. He notes that "citizens built a small school-house and Druggist W. F. Parker taught a subscription. Church services were held in this building each Sabbath by Rev. James A. Gibson, a Methodist Episcopal minister, and a Sunday-school was also organized. . . . Davis has four large church edifices,--Methodist, Baptist, Presbyterian, and Christian" (197).

In the photo above, you can see just below the names and dates a four-line inscription. It appears that the inscription was on the stone before Charlcy died, and that upon her death someone made a mess of it by making the words body and soul plural. Notice the clumsiness of the last two lines. It now reads as follows:

God in His wisdom has recalled

The boon his love had given

And though the bodys slumbers here

The souls is safe in Heaven

Below is a closer shot of the names and dates:

In addition to the gravestone for Silas E. and Charlcy Kennedy, the following markers and stones are in the family plot:

"Timothy" on Christian Communion and the Lord's Supper, The Christian Messenger, 1828 (Part 2 of 2)

My first post about a certain series in The Christian Messenger, written by "Timothy," and dealing with the Lord's Supper, took up preliminary questions.

To repeat, our best evidence indicates that the author of the three articles, "Timothy," was one Thomas Smith. In addition, the evidence suggests that Smith was a leader in the early-nineteenth century Christian movement associated with the names Barton W. Stone and Alexander Campbell. Apparently, Smith was a Kentuckian who, at the time he wrote this series, served as a preacher in Lexington. In fact, he was an old friend and associate of Stone's, and also was acquainted with Alexander Campbell. So, it is reasonable to suppose that Thomas Smith was present when, on New Year's Day, 1832, at the Hill Street Church in Lexington, Kentucky, "Raccoon" John Smith and Barton W. Stone shook hands, symbolically uniting two early-American restoration movements.

On that occasion, John Smith called upon the assembled to no longer be "Campbellites or Stoneites, New Lights or Old Lights, or any other kind of lights." If believers would simply come together on the basis of the Bible alone, that would provide "all the light we need."[1] Having established the context of Smith's three articles, then, we turn our attention to the material itself.

Timothy, "The Communion of Christians at the Lord's Table--No. I." The Christian Messenger 2, no. 12 (October 1828), 271-75.

In his first article, Smith, writing as "Timothy," begins with the question, "Who have a divine right to partake of the Lord's Supper?" (271).

Smith observes that "Paedo-baptists" practice open communion, while Baptists do not. I take the author's mention of Paedo-baptists as a reference primarily to Methodists and Presbyterians, two prominent denominations in the South and West at that time. Both groups practiced infant baptism. Of course, the same could be said about Lutherans, Episcopalians, and Congregationalists. But they were not nearly as prominent at that time and place. (See Smith's own designations on p. 273).

By contrast, Baptists, at least the fellowship known as "United Baptists," practice close(d) communion. Smith announces his conclusion: when it comes to the practical question of open versus closed communion, the right way lies somewhere between these two extremes, "which, I conceive, all christians [sic] would do well to avoid" (271).

Smith asserts that the practice of open communion by a "sect" is inconsistent. For, by definition, a sect establishes strict qualifications for membership. And, a sect treats all who do not meet those qualifications as outsiders. Smith raises the question of why "Paedo-baptists" practice open communion. He answers that the practice attempts to ingratiate those who are not a part of the sect, with the hope that this will bring the outsider around to appreciating and perhaps joining them. Essentially, as they invite people who do not subscribe to their creed to share the Lord's Supper with them, they pray:

O Lord, our creed contains the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth;--we beseech thee, therefore, convert our neighbors and the world to our sect (272).

But, Smith writes, the practice is entirely inconsistent, because when Methodists and Presbyterians serve the Lord's Supper to all sorts of believers, they admit in practice that members of other groups are genuine Christians, the children of God. Thus, it is as if Christ has a Presbyterian Church, a Methodist Church, a United Baptist Church, and so on. The "free communion" of the Paedo-baptists is, thus, inconsistent. Furthermore, it is less than honest, "a mere sectarian engine" (272). So long as these groups cleave to their cherished sectarian names and human creeds, their claims to ecumenicism are, at best, temporary, hollow, and ineffectual.

Smith celebrates that there are thousands of people "in the different sects" who deplore current conditions "in the church." His critical remarks do not apply to those people, he writes, for they are the very ones who recognize and resist the problem (272-73).

At this point, Smith transitions into the second half of his article, in which he draws a comparison between Christianity in the Roman Empire and anti-sectarian Christianity in the contemporary world. He states that in the Roman Empire, all religions were welcome and encouraged, provided that were not seditious or intolerant; provided that they did not deny the legitimacy of other religions or speak against Rome authority.

When Christianity came onto the scene, it did both. Christians denied the legitimacy of every other religious persuasion. Christians were absolutely convinced that they were following the truth. And, they spoke and lived as though they truly meant it. Quoting his source on Roman history, Smith writes

They (the christians) dared to ridicule the absurdities of the Pagan superstition, and they were ardent and assiduous in gaining proselytes to the truth. Nor did they only attack the religion of Rome, but also all the different shapes and forms under which superstition appeared in the various countries where they exercised their ministry (274).[2]

Consequently, all religious and imperial power came together in an attempt to destroy Christianity. What else might explain the deadly persecution of the church from the New Testament era to the time of Constantine?

Then, Smith draws his analogy. The various modern religious sects tend to get along just fine with one another, even to the point of claiming communion with each other as they openly serve the Lord's Supper to members of any mainstream group. But, if a movement should emerge that stands consistently against all of the sects with their creeds and dogmas, at that moment all of the groups will line up together in strong opposition to them.

Smith intimates that this is exactly what has happened in his own time. Paedo-baptists and all other sectarians have lined up against mere "Christians," believers who reject all systems of theology and human traditions, and who insist on the authority of the Bible alone. Leaders of the sects have made themselves the enemies of "the sons of religious liberty" (274).

Hence, those who have christian courage, fortitude and piety enough to stand up and oppose the desolating tide of popular and and [sic] fashionable religion, are every where (like the ancient christians) spoken against (275).

Timothy, "The Communion of Christians at the Lord's Table--No. II." The Christian Messenger 3, no. 1 (November 1828), 11-14.

Having identified in his first article the inconsistencies of the "Paedo-baptists," Thomas Smith now turns to to the Baptists and their practice of closed communion. Against such practice, Smith states, he has three objections:

First, Baptists teach that faith in Christ and immersion in water are the two essential requirements for becoming a child of God. If one has this status, of course he or she should be welcome to partake of the Lord's Supper. But, writes Smith, the group known as "United Baptists" withhold the Lord's Supper from "Separate Baptists," even though all of their members, like other sorts of Baptists, believe in Christ and have been baptized! Smith adds that United Baptists treat not only Separates but also other sorts of Baptists in the same way. In fact, there are at least potentially many others who would qualify as children of God according to the Baptist understanding, who would be denied the Lord's Supper by United Baptists. Thus, in this regard, the United Baptists are as rigid as the Roman Catholics.

Second, writes Smith, there are sometimes more differences among the United Baptists than there are between United Baptists and other groups. How ironic! So then, how can their practice of closed communion be consistent? As it is, their distinctions are in fact completely inconsistent, obviously sectarian. Apparently, their rule is, only if one is in the good graces of a United Baptist congregation is that believer worthy to partake of the Lord's Supper. If not, then one should be debarred from the Supper.

Third, the United Baptist practice of closed communion forces them to say, in effect, that they are the only Christians. Otherwise, how could they insist on closed communion?

The Baptists are thus hung on the horns of a dilemma: they teach that anyone who comes to the Lord as they have are thereby true children of God. At the same time, they teach that only members in good standing of United Baptist congregation should take the Lord's Supper. While their doctrine of salvation is biblical, their observance of the Lord's Supper is sectarian. Smith concludes, then, that the United Baptists will never be relieved of their problem until "they abandon the ground they occupy" (14).

Timothy, "The Communion of Christians at the Lord's Table--No. III." The Christian Messenger 3, no. 2 (December 1828), 33-37.

Having dealt with both Paedo-baptists and Baptists in the first two installments of his series, in the third and final installment Thomas Smith sets out to explain his own convictions.

Interestingly, he uses the phrase "the ancient order of things" and identifies the Lord's Supper is "an ordinance of the Church." Smith states that the church should "spread the Lord's table," believing and knowing that there are Christians, pious and God-fearing people, among the various sects (33). He goes so far as to say that many unimmersed "Paedo-baptists" certainly are true Christians, as their lives and devotion attest:

For who that has had any considerable acquaintance and intercourse with religious society can doubt  the piety of many Paedo-Baptists? The contrary opinion is too shocking to be admitted. The purity of many of their hearts, evinced by the holiness of their lives, proclaims them loudly and clearly to be the children of God. Their humility, the benevolence, their humanity, and unreserved devotion to the interests of Christianity, present many of them as patterns of piety and good works, whom, even those who have been immersed, would do well to imitate (34). 

Their error is not one of will, but of understanding. They therefore have every right to the Lord's table. Citing 2 Corinthians 8:12--"For if there be first a willing mind, it is accepted according to that a man hath, and not according to that he hath not"--Smith concludes that the Lord does not demand of people an understanding that they do not have. Rather, they are judged by the Lord according to the understanding they do have (35).

But how or why would someone be ignorant of the will of God? Smith answers that the King James Bible does not translate the word that means immerse as such. Instead, that translation consistently uses the much more pliable word baptize. Paedo-baptists have been taught by their revered teachers that their sprinkling as infants matches that meaning of baptize. These people, Smith suggests, are stuck in Babylon. They might not make it out of Babylon as soon as one would like. Human nature being what it is, who would expect that they would? Not to mention that those who have been immersed as believers most assuredly have their own set misunderstandings.

But what about the Baptists, asks Smith? They would likely say, "If we take the position of 'Timothy,' how will we ever convince a Paedo-baptist that there is something defective about his understanding? We must exclude him until he learns what is true, agrees with the doctrine and follows it.

Smith rejects such thinking and its practical approach because, he says, the excluded Paedo-baptist will not feel challenged by rejection. Rather, he will feel disrespected. He will conclude that those who deny him the Supper must not recognize his true piety and Christian character.  In other words, the United Baptist approach is bound to backfire. On the other hand, if a Paedo-baptist is received as a brother at the Lord's table, then

he feels the cords of Christian affection binding him to you; he has confidence in you, and therefore every avenue to his mind is open to you; and thus you pave the way to his conversion to the truth (37).

Four Observations

For me, this series written by Thomas Smith provokes at least four observations.

First, although judging from its title this series might seem to be primarily about the "Lord's Supper," in fact it has everything to do with that other phrase: "Christian Communion." Here, those words clearly refer to what is sometimes called "fellowship." Smith's leading question, "Who have a divine right to partake of the Lord's Supper?" does not address typical questions like frequency of the Lord's Supper, the meaning of the ordinance, etc. Much more broadly, Smith is asking, Who is a Christian? The practical concern is the issue of how a church's quiet observance of the Lord's Supper loudly responds to that question. What does the church's practice imply about what identifies a true Christian?

Second, the central question in Smith's series is two-sided. That is, it not only asks about the Christian identity of individuals, more to the point it asks about the character of the movement of which Smith is a part. He seeks to raise and respond to the question, Will we "Christians" (or "Disciples" or "Reformers") practice open or closed communion, or will we take a third alternative? That is to say, the series is not so much about the Christian identity of individuals. Rather, it deals with the Christian identity of the "Christians."

Third, Smith's rejection of both open and closed communion indicates that the practice in many, likely most, of today's Restoration churches regarding the Lord's Supper reaches all the way back to the very first generation of the movement. Many restorationists today have heard and repeated statements like, "It is not our supper, it is the Lord's Supper" and "We neither invite nor debar." Such mottoes do not fully explain the rationale behind the custom to which they point. Such is the nature of mottoes. Yet, these words do express and emphasize an approach to the Lord's Supper that is consistent with the goal of being Christians only, while never claiming to be the only Christians.

In my own experience growing up among the acappella Churches of Christ, though we did not repeat the mottoes I have quoted here, we essentially followed them. In the congregations of my youth, it was understood that the Lord's Supper was for baptized believers. It was also understood to be a duty and a blessing for Christians to partake. Yet, no one was especially welcomed or discouraged to participate. Individuals made the decision for themselves.

Fourth, it appears that one reason why the Stone and Campbell movements were able to converge sometime around the early 1830s is that they took the same view of Christian identity, the same view of communion or fellowship in the broadest meaning of those words.

Famously, in the pages of the 1837 The Millennial Harbinger, Alexander Campbell replied to "a conscientious sister" who wrote from Lunenburg, Virginia. A brief quote from letter reveals the essential question: "Does the name of Christ or Christian belong to any but those who believe the gospel, repent, and are buried by baptism into the death of Christ?"

In his reply, Campbell wrote:

But who is a Christian? I answer, Every one that believes in his heart that Jesus of Nazareth is the Messiah, the Son of God; repents of his sins, and obeys him in all things according to this measure of knowledge of his will.

Later, and reminiscent of Thomas Smith's statements from nearly a decade before in The Christian Messenger, Campbell made the following comparison:

Should I find a Pedobaptist more intelligent in the Christian Scriptures, more spiritually-minded and more devoted to the Lord than a Baptist, or one immersed on a profession of the ancient faith, I could not hesitate a moment in giving the preference of my heart to him that loveth much. Did I act otherwise I would be a pure sectarian, a Pharisee among Christians.[3]

Notes

[1] Lester G. McAllister and William E. Tucker, Journey in Faith: A History of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) (St. Louis: Bethany Press, 1975), pp. 151-52. The full discussion of attempts to unite the "Disciples" and "Christians" appears on pp. 146-55.

[2] Along this line, the eminent historian G. W. Bowersock, Martyrdom and Rome (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), points out that Christianity of the second to fourth centuries invented the words martyr and martyrdom, and that these words uniquely belong to the early church. For a good overview of this period, see Diarmaid MacCulloch, Christianity: The First Three Thousand Years (New York: Viking Press, 2009), ch. 5. MacCulloch offers a fine description of how, to the Romans, the boldness of the early Christians seemed like a provocation, how their aloofness created suspicion, and how their distinctive use of political language represented an affront to imperial authority. The Christians worshiped none of the traditional gods. Were they atheists? In their assemblies, it was rumored, they ate flesh and drank blood. Were they cannibals? Suspicion and resentment sometimes resulted in the martyrdom of Christians, terrible ordeals that generated for the church more and more heroes. One can only wonder why MacCulloch ignores one of the earliest and most-interesting episodes in the history of Rome's various encounters with early Christianity: the conflict over the Cult of the Emperor in the province of Asia during the reign of Domitian, the unmistakable back story of the New Testament's Book of Revelation.

[3] For the initial exchange between the lady from Lunenburg and Campbell, see The Millennial Harbinger, New Series, Vol. 1 (1837), 411-14.

"Timothy" on Christian Communion and the Lord's Supper, The Christian Messenger, 1828 (Part 1 of 2)

What did leaders of the early Restoration Movement believe and teach about the Lord's Supper? And, how did their teachings influence Christian churches affiliated with the movement when it came to their participation in the Supper?

As part of my attempt to get a handle on this topic, I decided that my next project would be a survey of a three-part series of articles that appeared in successive issues of Barton W. Stone's monthly magazine, The Christian Messenger. The series can be found in the following numbers:

Volume 2, number 12
Volume 3, number 1
Volume 3, number 2

These three issues are dated October, November, and December 1828, respectively.

Observation and Disclaimer

There are a few books and doctoral dissertations that have been written about nineteenth-century Restoration Movement thought on the Lord's Supper. But before reading them, I've chosen to get acquainted with the primary literature on my own.

Related to this, there are some who say that one should read the historiography first, and then go digging through the primary sources and archives. When it comes to graduate training in the discipline of History, this is the American model.

I have to say that I much prefer the European model, according to which students are turned loose in the archives before they are required to begin mastering some of the secondary literature. Why? For one thing, there is a certain authority, confidence, and set of questions that come as a result of having "been there and done that." When you know that you know what you know because you've seen it for yourself, that's indispensable. There is just no substitute for it.

On the practical side, this also helps you to know whether you're going to like archival research, or at least have the stomach for it. This, I believe, ought to come early. I myself enjoy going to new places and looking around in archives, courthouses, cemeteries, etc. But I realize that this is not for everyone. If interested in a vicarious experience along this line, one might consult a book by the French social historian Arlette Farge titled The Allure of the Archives.

So, Who Was "Timothy"?

Before getting into the material, the reader is immediately confronted by an unusual question about these three articles: Who wrote them? The author identifies himself as "Timothy," the name of the Apostle Paul's favorite son in the faith.

To those familiar with nineteenth-century Stone-Campbell journalism, the use of the pseudonym comes as no surprise. As historian David I. McWhirter observes, writers in the early Stone-Campbell Movement often published their thoughts using cryptic names in order to veil or completely conceal their identities.[1]

Although false names satisfied the playfulness, or the genuine concerns of the writers for anonymity, not all of the readers were amused or appreciative. In fact, several months before he published the series authored by "Timothy," editor Barton Stone acknowledged that some who subscribed to The Christian Messenger disliked pseudonyms, and he asked his contributors to stop using them:

We have many letters addressed to us by our patrons, requesting our correspondents to affix their proper names to their communications, and no longer conceal themselves under fictitious names. I cannot see the impropriety of the request, and therefore urge my correspondents to comply with it.[2]

Clearly, Stone agreed with his readers dissatisfied by pseudonyms. This was a significant complaint against a magazine that constantly struggled to survive. After three years of publishing the Messenger, Stone lamented that although he had 2,000 subscribers, paid receipts barely covered the costs of paper and printing.[3] Nevertheless, when it came to the articles under study in this post, Stone permitted the author to use the pseudonym "Timothy." Who was he?

In their index to The Christian Messenger, Barry A. Jones and Charles C. Dorsey provide a list of all of the pseudonyms that appear in the magazine. Interestingly, they identify only one of the pseudonymous writers, even though a handful of others are fairly well known. Jones and Dorsey indicate that "Timothy" was one Thomas Smith.[4] Naturally, this raises the next question: Who was he?

At least a few primary sources fill in some of the blanks and provide a partial answer. The Biography of Elder Barton Warren Stone includes part of a letter written to Stone by "Elder Thomas Smith, of Fayette county, Kentucky." Smith is described as "one of the oldest preachers in Kentucky," who "for talents and piety . . . occupies a very enviable position." It is further said of Smith that he knew Stone for forty years.[5]

In his Memoirs of Alexander Campbell, Robert Richardson states that in late 1831 and early 1832-- around the time of the formal union at Lexington between the Kentucky "Christians" and the "Disciples" or "Reformers"--the most prominent minister of the Christian Church in Lexington was Thomas Smith. Richardson notes that Smith was

a man of more than ordinary abilities and attainments, and long associated with the movement of B. W. Stone. He was an excellent preacher and was considered a skillful debater. He possessed withal a very amiable disposition, and was highly esteemed by Mr. Campbell, whom he often accompanied during his visits in Kentucky.[6]

Thomas Smith, the author of our series, was a friend and co-worker of Barton Stone's, and an acquaintance of Alexander Campbell's. He served as a prominent leader among those connected to the "Christian" movement in Kentucky, especially in Lexington, a city highly significant to the Stone-Campbell Movement.

In my next post on the topic, I will briefly survey the contents of Smith's series, and suggest a few ideas about its historical significance.

Notes

[1] David I. McWhirter, "Pseudonyms," in Encyclopedia of the Stone-Campbell Movement, (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 2004), p. 614.

[2] The Christian Messenger, 2, no. 3 (January 1828), p. 72. See also Lewis L. Snyder, "Speaking from the Shadows: Pen Names of Pioneers," Discipliana 51, no. 1 (Spring 1991), p. 7.

[3] Carl W. Cheatham, "Christian Messenger," in Encyclopedia of the Stone-Campbell Movement, p. 194.

[4] Barry A. Jones and Charles C. Dorsey, eds., An Index to the Christian Messenger (N.p.: 1984), 85-86, list all of the pseudonyms that appeared in Stone's magazine. Interestingly, they identify only one of the pseudonymous writers: "Timothy," they tell us, was Thomas Smith. James L. McMillan, [james.l.mcmillan@gmail.com], "REPLY: 'Timothy' in The Christian Messenger," in Stone-Campbell Group, [stone-campbell@acu.edu], 11 January 2018, notes that there are more pseudonyms in the Christian Messenger for which we know the true name. McMillan gives three examples: "Candidus" is Alexander Campbell, "Archippus" is James Fishback, and "Philip" is Walter Scott. Thirty years before Jones and Dorsey identified "Timothy" as Thomas Smith, archivist and historian Claude Spencer, "Pseudonyms," Discipliana 11 (1951-52), 36, listed "Timothy" as one of the pseudonyms which had not been identified.

[5] Barton Warren Stone, The Biography of Elder Barton Warren Stone, Written by Himself, with Additions and Reflections by Eld. John Rogers (Cincinnati: J. A. and U. P. James, 1847), 118. For this reference, I am indebted to Michael Strickland, [michaelstrickland92@gmail.com], "REPLY: 'Timothy' in The Christian Messenger," in Stone-Campbell Group, [stone-campbell@acu.edu], 11 January 2018.

[6] Robert Richardson, Memoirs of Alexander Campbell. Two Volumes in One (Cincinnati: R. W. Carroll, 1872), II, 384. For this reference, I am indebted to Bruce Hudson, [bhgoose@aol.com], "REPLY: 'Timothy' in The Christian Messenger," in Stone-Campbell Group, [stone-campbell@acu.edu], 11 January 2018.

J. Ellis and the "Chickasaw Christian Church"

I have been evangelizing about three months in northern Texas and the southern part of the Indian Territory. . . . Since crossing the Red River into the Indian Nation, I have been very successful. I gathered up a very pleasant congregation of Indians and whites and organized them into a Christian Church under the name "Chickasaw Christian Church."

--J. Ellis, Christian Standard 9, no. 21 (May 23, 1874), pp. 162-63, as quoted in Stephen J. England, Oklahoma Christians (Bethany Press, 1975), p. 41.

1874. England suggests that this marks the very beginning of missionary activity among the Chickasaws in Indian Territory conducted by anyone with connections to the Restoration Movement. Note that Ellis's report quoted above comes years before Murrell Askew's arrival in I.T. (1881).

Stone-Campbell Restoration History and Teaching: A Brief Survey

The following is a brief overview of the history and outlook of the Stone-Campbell Restoration Movement. I wrote it in order provide basic information to readers of an academic paper who are not of Disciples heritage, who are not members of the Christian Church or Churches of Christ. My goal here is to evaluate and improve this statement. I welcome all respectful questions and comments: 

The phrase Stone-Campbell Restoration Movement refers to a back-to-the-Bible tradition that grew out of the teachings of Barton W. Stone (1772-1844, pictured here), Thomas Campbell (1763-1854), and, above all, his illustrious son, Alexander Campbell (1788-1866). The great evangelist of the movement was Walter Scott (1796-1861), a distant relative of the famous Scottish novelist by that name.[1] These leaders and their followers pursued a distinct religious goal: the restoration of primitive Christianity. They spoke of restoring “the ancient gospel,” the Bible’s most basic claims about Christ which everyone must believe and respond to in obedience. They sought to discover the biblical progression by which one becomes a Christian, and they identified the following steps: faith, an assent to the claim that "Jesus is the Christ, the son of God" (Matthew 16:16); repentance, a radical turn from sin and self, and a turn toward God; baptism by immersion for the forgiveness of sins, the gift of God's Holy Spirit, and the promise of eternal life.[2] They also set out to restore what Alexander Campbell called “the ancient order of things,” especially the Bible's teaching about baptism, the Lord’s Supper, the congregational offices of elder and deacon, church discipline, and approved names for believers and for the church. Additionally, restoration pertained to matters more personal and inward: to self-control, pure speech, right living, the love of mercy, and the hopeful spirit of the New Testament.[3]

The project of restoration involved tearing down as well as building up. Christians of the Stone-Campbell movement sought to erase all distinctions between clergy and laity. Along with what often seemed to them the arbitrary authority of religious elites, they also rejected the authority of creeds, confessions, extra-biblical traditions, and specialized, learned theology. They replaced all such traditions with a populist hermeneutic according to which every person was welcomed, even expected, to read and understand the Bible for oneself. Having embraced the tenets of Enlightenment philosophy and American freedom, Stone, the Campbells, and like-minded believers acted upon their conviction that the imposition of illegitimate authority in matters of faith provoked disunity and amounted to a certain type of idolatry, a defiance of Almighty God. Such pseudo-authorities were never needed anyway, since the essential teachings of the Bible, the Word of God, could be understood and agreed upon by all responsible people who were truly seeking the Lord.[4]

The movement both commended and critiqued the Christian past. For his part, Alexander Campbell celebrated the goals and achievements of sixteenth-century reformers like Martin Luther, John Calvin, and Martin Bucer.[5] "The Protestant Reformation," he wrote, "is proved to have been one of the most splendid eras in the history of the world, and must long be regarded by the philosopher and the philanthropist as one of the most gracious interpositions in behalf of the whole human race."[6] Yet much like the Puritans, Campbell complained that the earlier reformers had not gone far enough. They were certainly on the right track. But to have a restored church, the initiatives of the sixteenth century would have to be "carried out to their legitimate issue."[7] In Campbell's view, no group in Christian history had ever truly united by building "upon the Bible alone." But that had changed "during the present generation."

Tired of new creeds and new parties in religion, and of the numerous abortive efforts to reform the reformation; convinced from the Holy Scriptures, from observation and experience, that the union of the disciples of Christ is essential to the conversion of the world, and that the correction and improvement of no creed, or partisan establishment in Christendom, could ever become the basis of such a union, communion, and co-operation, as would restore peace to a church militant against itself, or triumph to the common salvation; a few individuals, about the commencement of the present century, began to reflect upon the ways and means to restore primitive Christianity.[8]

As the foregoing suggests, the ultimate goal of the Stone-Campbell Movement was the unity of all believers in Christ, a oneness that was essential the Lord's plan to redeem the entire world. Leaders often noted that on the night when Jesus was betrayed into the hands of the authorities, he prayed that his followers would be one, even as he and God the Father were one. According to Jesus as he prayed to God the Father, the purpose of Christian unity was that “the world may know that thou hast sent me, and hast loved them, as thou hast loved me” (John 17:23). The unity of the church was necessary for a lost world to believe the gospel, to recognize the true identity of Jesus Christ as well as God’s unique love for those who follow Christ [9]

Ironically, sometime after the Civil War, Christians associated with what Alexander Campbell called “the current reformation,” a movement designed to unify all true believers on the basis of the simple gospel and plain Bible teaching, splintered into two distinct groups. On one side stood those Christian Churches that would eventually give rise to the Disciples of Christ denomination and the independent Christian Churches. (Those two now-distinct churches emerged as separate groups during the late-nineteenth and early-twentieth centuries). Predominately, these congregations were in northern states, with power centers in places like Cincinnati and Indianapolis. They tended to value the later Alexander Campbell’s emphasis on Christian forbearance and unity at the expense of doctrinal particulars. However, influenced by then soldier-preacher and future U.S. President James A. Garfield (1831-1881), representatives of the northern congregations used resolutions issued by the Disciples’ American Christian Missionary Society to officially endorse the Union.

On the other side stood congregations that typically wore the name Church of Christ. Following the war, these churches were influenced by leaders like Tolbert Fanning (1810-1874)—who as a young man had been mentored by Alexander Campbell—and especially Fanning’s protégé, David Lipscomb (1831-1917). Both Fanning and Lipscomb resided in Middle Tennessee. The Churches of Christ were characterized by their commitment to the earlier Alexander Campbell’s emphasis on biblical primitivism and strict doctrine. For them, this specifically meant opposition to instrumental music in worship, and to all para-church institutions like the Disciples’ American Christian Missionary Society, which members of the Churches of Christ insisted were not authorized by Scripture. Unlike the Disciples of Christ, who prized Christian unity, the Churches of Christ more often saw the restoration of the faith and practice of the New Testament church not as a means, but as an end.[10]

With two fellowships of autonomous congregations having gone their separate ways and having begun to grow apart from one another, it fell to the federal Census Bureau in 1906 to enquire, call attention to the fact of division, and finally provide, at least for their purposes, distinct names for the groups. Nowadays, three discrete church bodies trace their roots back to Stone and Campbell: the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), which embraces its denominational identity, the independent Christian Churches/Churches of Christ (sometimes referred to as Independents), and the acappella Churches of Christ.[11]

Beginning in the early decades of the twentieth century, historians referred to this tradition as the American Restoration Movement, or simply the Restoration Movement.[12] The more recent moniker, Stone-Campbell Movement, first appeared more as a descriptor than as a title per se, in, for example, Lester G. McAllister and William E. Tucker’s 1975 history of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) titled Journey in Faith.[13] The newer name has had some success in replacing the older one, especially among scholars, ever since 1981, when Leroy Garrett published the first edition of his interpretive survey, The Stone-Campbell Movement: An Anecdotal History of Three Churches.[14]

Notes

[1] Perhaps the best source for becoming acquainted with the Stone-Campbell Movement is Christian History 106 (2013), an issue of the magazine titled "The church to end all churches? The unifying vision of the Stone-Campbell Movement." All four leading figures of the early movement have entries in both the Encyclopedia of the Stone-Campbell Movement and Oxford's multivolume American National Biography. Although the Restoration Movement, sometimes called the Stone-Campbell Movement, is often considered an American phenomenon, it is significant that three of the four founders mentioned here were not born in America. Both Thomas and Alexander Campbell were born in Northern Ireland, and Walter Scott was born in Scotland. More to the point, as James L. Gorman has recently argued, "[t]he influences of the evangelical missionary movement that emerged throughout the transatlantic region in the 1790s was the clearest and most comprehensive context that produced the earliest manifestation of the Campbell Movement in 1809." See Gorman, Among the Early Evangelicals: The Transatlantic Origins of the Stone-Campbell Movement (Abilene, TX: Abilene Christian University Press, 2017), 15. For a summary of Gorman's important work, see the author's review in the Journal of Ecclesiastical History 70, no. 1 (January 2019), 203-04.

[2] See, for example, Walter Scott, The Gospel Restored, A Discourse of the True Gospel of Jesus Christ in which the Facts, Principles, Duties, and Privileges of Christianity are Arranged, Defined, and Discussed, and the Gospel in Its Various Parts Shewn to Be Adapted to the Nature and Necessities of Man in His Present Condition (Cincinnati, OH: Donogh, 1836).

[3] Here, the best primary source is Alexander Campbell's thirty-two-part series titled "A Restoration of the Ancient Order of Things," installments of which appeared in his monthly magazine The Christian Baptist from 1823 to 1829. The first appeared in The Christian Baptist 2, no. 7 (February 7, 1825): 124-28. The final installment, "Official Names and Titles," appeared in Volume 7, no. 2 (September 7, 1829): 585-86.

[4] See Nathan O. Hatch, The Democratization of American Christianity (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1989), esp. 3-46 and 67-80. For an explanation of the Puritan roots of the Stone-Campbell Movement, especially its Bible-centered primitivism, see Theodore Dwight Bozeman, To Live Ancient Lives: The Primitivist Dimension of Puritanism (Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 1988). A good overview of the basic theological outlook of American restorationist leaders can be found E. Brooks Holifield, Theology in America: Christian Thought from the Age of the Puritans to the Civil War (New Haven: Yale University Press, 2003), ch. 14. Paul M. Blowers, Douglas A. Foster, and D. Newell Williams provide a fine review of the historiography of the movement in “Stone-Campbell History Over Three Centuries: A Survey and Analysis,” in the Encyclopedia of the Stone-Campbell Movement, xxi-xxxv. For a good historical summary of the worldwide Restoration Movement, see Douglas A. Foster, "Disciples of Christ," Encyclopedia of Protestantism, ed. Hans J. Hillerbrand (New York: Routledge, 2004), 2:593-97.

[5] Richard L. Harrison, Jr., "Alexander Campbell on Luther and the Reformation," Lexington Theological Quarterly 19, no. 4 (1984), 131-32. See also my article, "Why Should We Care about Martin Luther?" Christian Chronicle 74, no. 10 (October 2017), 26.

[6] Alexander Campbell, The Christian System, 2nd ed. (Pittsburgh, PA: Forrester & Campbell, 1839), 3.

[7] Ibid., 179.

[8] Ibid., 5.

[9] The unity of the church is a prominent theme in the two great “charter documents” of the Stone-Campbell Movement. The Last Will and Testament of the Springfield Presbytery, signed by, among others, Barton W. Stone in 1804, quotes from “the seven ones” passage found in Paul’s Epistle of the Ephesians, chapter 4. The “Imprimis” of The Last Will and Testament reads: “We will, that this body die, be dissolved, and sink into union with the Body of Christ at large; for there is but one body, and one Spirit, even as we are called in one hope of our calling.” Similarly, Thomas Campbell’s 1809 Declaration and Address cites or alludes to Christ’s prayer for the unity of his followers, recorded in John 17, as well as to “the seven ones” passage several times. See Christopher R. Hutson, “Scripture Index to the Declaration and Address,” in The Quest for Christian Unity, Peace, and Purity in Thomas Campbell’s Declaration and Address: Text and Studies, eds. Thomas H. Olbricht and Hans Rollmann (Lanham, MD: Scarecrow Press, 2000), 129-47. See also Alexander Campbell, "A Restoration of the Ancient Order of Things. No. III," Christian Baptist 2, no. 9 (April 4, 1825), 198-205.

[10] On the earlier versus later Alexander Campbell as a key to understanding some of the differences between Churches of Christ and the Disciples of Christ, see Richard T. Hughes, Reviving the Ancient Faith: The Story of Churches of Christ in America (Grand Rapids, MI: Eerdmans, 1996), 32-44. For some of his insights, Hughes credits an unpublished manuscript by Don Haymes, “A Battle of Giants: Alexander Campbell and Bishop John Baptist Purcell in Cincinnati, 1837.” For restoration as the means to unity versus restoration serving the goal of purity and, thus, salvation, see Jay Smith, “Notes on Thomas Campbell’s Declaration and Address,” Restoration Quarterly 5, no. 3 (Third Quarter, 1961): 113-18.

[11] The names used in the Library of Congress subject authority records are: Christian Church (Disciples of Christ), Christian Churches and Churches of Christ, and Churches of Christ. Catalogers and researchers sometimes refer to these three groups simply as Disciples, 4Cs, and 2Cs. Although restorationist champions of undenominational Christianity would no doubt object to the use of such terms, everyone conversant with the history understands exactly what they mean. The state-of-the-art treatment of the worldwide history of the entire movement can be found in D. Newell Williams, Douglas A. Foster, and Paul M. Blowers, eds. The Stone-Campbell Movement: A Global History (St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2013), especially chaps. 1-5. The history of the nineteenth-century American Restoration Movement and, after division, the twentieth-century Churches of Christ is best told by Richard T. Hughes, Reviving the Ancient Faith.

[12] See, for example, M. M. Davis, The Restoration Movement of the Nineteenth Century (Cincinnati, OH: Standard Publishing Company, 1913); Charles Crossfield Ware, North Carolina Disciples of Christ: A History of Their Rise and Progress, and Their Contribution to Their General Brotherhood (St. Louis, MO: Christian Board of Publication, 1927), 23, 52, 62, 78, 137, 323, 333, 343, and 372; Homer Hailey, Attitudes and Consequences in the Restoration Movement (Los Angeles: Citizen Print Shop, 1945); Enos E. Dowling, The Restoration Movement (Cincinnati: Standard Publishing, 1964); and, more recently, Henry E. Webb, In Search of Christian Unity: A History of the Restoration Movement (Cincinnati: Standard Publishing, 1990).

[13] Lester G. McAllister and William E. Tucker, Journey in Faith: A History of the Christian Church (Disciples of Christ) (Saint Louis: Bethany Press, 1975), 149, 253, 443.

[14] Leroy Garrett, The Stone-Campbell Movement: An Anecdotal History of Three Churches (Joplin, MO: College Press, 1981). Because Garrett's book contained "Stone-Campbell" in its title, some have assumed that Garrett coined the phrase. Yet it actually predates even McAllister and Tucker. For example, Allie Vandaripe, "Perryville: Motorcade to Cane Ridge," (Danville) Kentucky Advocate, July 31, 1955, describes the Cane Ridge Meeting House as follows: "This historic spot is greatly revered by all congregations of the Christian Church, since it was at this place more than a century and a half ago that the Stone-Campbell Movement began in the one-room structure." The author seems to be using what was to her a familiar term.

Campbell on "Communion" and the Lord's Supper

Alexander Campbell argued that a simple definition of communion and the specific usage of that word in translations of the New Testament preclude its identification with the Lord's Supper. He defined communion as "union in that which is common" and pointed out there are several ways in which the Lord's people have experienced this in both Old and New Testament eras:

Wherever there is union in common, there is communion. As the glory of the Lord equally filled all the tabernacle and the temple, so the Spirit of God animates, consoles, and refreshes the whole body of Christ.

It was in this general sense of the word that Paul wrote in 2 Corinthians 13:14, "The grace of the Lord Jesus Christ, and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy Spirit, be with you all." Here, Paul uses the Greek word koinonia, which carries the meaning of "fellowship" or "joint participation."[1] Clearly, replacing communion with Lord's Supper would cause that verse to no longer make perfect sense.

To be sure, wrote Campbell, "in the Lord's supper especially does God commune with his sons and daughters, and they with him." [2] The breaking of bread is a special time in the lives of Christians. Nevertheless, it is most unscriptural, he insisted, for "sectarian Christendom" to identify a "single ordinance," namely, the Lord's Supper, as communion.

Hence sectarians, or professors of most creeds will occasionally invite those of another creed to lead in prayer, in praise, in family worship, and afterwards debar them from the Lord's table, merely, too, in most cases, because of doctrinal or political differences. [3]

In this way, Campbell explained his rationale for not referring to the Lord's Supper, or the breaking of bread, as communion. Not only was that identification inexact and misleading, it was also the basis upon which some Protestant sects were guilty of a gross inconsistency. For while they were perfectly willing for visitors to sing, pray, and even contribute of their means, those same visitors were debarred from participating in what the sects called "Communion."

Notes

[1] Millennial Harbinger, 1834, pp. 568-69.

[2] MH, 1864, p. 152.

[3] MH, 1862, p. 529.

Alexander Campbell, Early Church History, and the Breaking of Bread

Alexander Campbell concluded his 1825 series "On the Breaking of Bread" by pointing to early church history as a verification for his conclusions about the frequency of the Lord's Supper. He emphasizes that New Testament foreground has no authority. However, he writes, it is useful as an answer to those who say, "Innovation!" in reaction to authentic New Testament teaching. Notice in the following brief passage the two disclaimers regarding the authority of tradition. Note also the two reasons given for the value of studying church history. As soon as I read this, I was taken back to Everett Ferguson's booklet in the Way of Life series on Early and Medieval Church History, where Ferguson makes similar points in favor of this kind of study, in church "Bible classes" no less:

"We lay no stress upon what is no better than the traditions of the church; or upon the testimony of those called the primitive fathers, in settling any part of Christians worship, or Christian obedience. Yet when the scriptures are explicit upon any topic, which is lost sight of in modern times, it is both gratifying and useful to know how the practice has been laid aside, and other customs been substituted in its room. There is, too, a corroborating influence in authentic history, which, while it does not authorize any thing as of Divine authority, it confirms the conviction of our duty in things Divinely established, by observing how they were observed, and how they were laid aside." (A. Campbell, "A Restoration of the Ancient Order of Things, No. IX, On the Breaking of Bread, No. IV," Christian Baptist, Vol. III, November 7, 1825, p. 83).

Microhistory: What It Is, and What It's Good For (5th and Final)

In this fifth and final post, I want to say a few things about the future of microhistory. If recent discussions of theory and methodology, and just the production of historiography itself are any indication, then it seems that microhistory has a promising future. For example, a recent unigram search of Google Books indicates an exponential growth in the occurrence of microhistory from the 1980s up to the present. Kim Tolley’s new microhistory, cited at the beginning of the first post, is one of many.

Positive signs also turn up in one of my own subfields of study, the Stone-Campbell Restoration Movement. The authors of a recently-published survey textbook, The Stone-Campbell Movement: A Global History, make the following generalization:

A shift away from macro-history began in the 1970s, especially rejecting history written from the standpoint of dominant institutions or socio-political elites. Instead, the focus was on “micro-histories” and the stories of outsiders and marginalized groups, especially immigrants, racial minorities, and women.[1]

Among the few works of Stone-Campbell history that fit this generalization, at least two stand out: Daisy L. Machado’s Of Borders and Margins: Hispanic Disciples in Texas, 1888-1945, and Edward J. Robinson’s To Save My Race from Abuse: The Life of Samuel Robert Cassius.[2]

To summarize this entire series then, microhistory grew out of the interests of European social historians and was developed in Italy beginning in the 1970s. Its initial concern was to use “microscopic” methods to verify, correct, and supplement macrohistory, whose generalizations might be misguided or incomplete. In this way, microhistory could serve the goal of the Annales school to present “total history.” Since its inception, some examples of microhistory have been criticized for their dependence on the methods of cultural anthropology, or for their indulgence in anecdotalism and antiquarianism. Nevertheless, works described by their authors as microhistories, as well as other works that exhibit some of the characteristics of the microhistorical method, have grown in popularity among historians. At least one advocate of microhistory, namely, American historian Richard D. Brown, does not consider this trend a scholarly fad. Rather, he sees it as important to the foundation of history itself.

Of course, Brown’s overall concern relates to much more than the usefulness of microhistory. For example, in a much more general way French social historian Arlette Farge has responded to the question of the relationship between truth and historiography. She takes a mediating approach, one that argues that while no historian ever produces “the definitive truthful narrative,” no historian worthy of the name can ever disregard truth, or fail to care about what is true.[3]

Here, there is a discernible correspondence between Farge’s position and that of Cold War historian John Lewis Gaddis. In his series of lectures titled The Landscape of History: How Historians Map the Past, Gaddis observes that historians have always known that arriving at historical consciousness means one has learned “that there is no ‘correct’ interpretation of the past” and that “the act of interpreting is itself a vicarious enlargement of experience.”[4] At the same time, Gaddis rejects the extreme conclusion that because “we have no absolute basis for measuring time and space” we therefore “can’t know anything about what happened within them.”[5]

Both Farge and Gaddis would agree, it seems, that historians can and should identify many things that are true, while at the same time recognizing that one’s interpretation of a set of facts is just that: an interpretation.

_____________________________________________

[1] D. Newell Williams, Douglas A. Foster, and Paul M. Blowers, eds., The Stone-Campbell Movement: A Global History (St. Louis: Chalice Press, 2013), 5.

[2] Daisy L. Machado, Of Borders and Margins: Hispanic Disciples in Texas, 1888-1945 (New York: Oxford University Press, 2003); Edward J. Robinson, To Save My Race from Abuse: The Life of Samuel Robert Cassius (Tuscaloosa: University of Alabama Press, 2007).

[3] Arlette Farge, The Allure of the Archives, trans. Thomas Scott-Railton (New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2013), 95-96.

[4] John Lewis Gaddis, The Landscape of History: How Historians Map the Past (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2002), 10.

[5] Ibid., 34.

The Non-Class, One Cup Churches of Christ

Ronny F. Wade, The Sun Will Shine Again, Someday. Springfield, MO: 1986. xvi + 208 pp.

The subtitle of this book says it all: “A history of the non-class, one cup Churches of Christ.” The author, Ronny F. Wade, is a long-time, widely-regarded preacher within this group. As one might expect, the history he writes is characterized by advocacy. He is much like the sports announcer who, while calling the game, always cheers for his team.

A bit of background and explanation. The contemporary mainline non-instrumental Churches of Christ adopted the practice of having various Bible classes—sometimes called Sunday School—around the beginning of the twentieth century. They also adopted the use of individual cups for the Lord’s Supper. But not everyone went along. Ever since then, the “non-class, one cup Churches of Christ” have made up a marginal, though significant, group. Also, they are convinced that other congregations of the Churches of Christ—not to mention the rest of the Christian world—are in sin, unfaithful to the Lord. Thus, Wade refers to those outside the group as “digressives,” even those people who sympathize with the conclusions of "digressives" but who do not treat those conclusions as tests of fellowship.

Wade sometimes provides general background for the story he tells. For example, in Chapter Three he relates the rise of the Sunday School Movement, beginning in Great Britain and moving to America. At other points, Wade focuses on intimate doctrinal and personality conflicts within the non-class, one cup group. For instance, he sometimes quotes at length the correspondence between warring preachers and debaters quibbling over the terms in the propositions to be discussed. In these sections, the book seems more like a chronicle than a history.

Throughout, the author provides little in the way of social or political context for his story. Wade notes in Chapter Seven that the group he belongs to remained pacifist even during and after the Second World War. But he tells the reader very little about the group’s interactions with the federal government, which must have been a fascinating story still waiting to be told. Instead, the author focuses on what he knows so well: minute doctrinal history and the biographies of leading preachers, men like Dr. G. A. Trott, Homer L. King, J. Ervin Waters, and J. D. Phillips. Consequently, his book is almost always descriptive rather than analytical.

The Sun Will Shine Again, Someday includes numerous photos of leading preachers in the non-class, one cup movement. Documentation appears at the end of each chapter. The book is missing an index, which would have been useful.

Readers will likely admire the conviction and tenacity of the group Wade has described, They might also lament what some will view as the narrowness and penchant for remaining small and insular. Thirty years have passed since this book was first published. It would be interesting to know what has happened since then. Perhaps the author, now in his eighties, would consider producing an updated edition of his work. Either way, this book is an important secondary source on its topic.

Meeting with Meta at the Oklahoma History Center

I was in the archive at the Oklahoma History Center in Oklahoma City this Monday through Wednesday, March 16-18. What a great place to do research on the history of the Sooner State!

I spent almost all of my time there going through "Box 1" of the Meta Chestnutt Sager Collection. Those folders look innocent. But searching through their contents wore me out.  . . . 

Among the many documents in the collection, there were also a few photographs. In this one, probably taken in Nashville, Meta is about 26 years old. The year would have been 1889.

Here she is 50 years later, in 1939, beside her house in Chickasha, Oklahoma. This photo was taken on the day she rode the train to Oklahoma City where she was inducted into the Oklahoma Hall of Fame.

Among the few items she put in her scrapbook was the Rock Island Railroad napkin from the train ride to "the City."

Summary of "Unless Authorized to Act" by C. J. Dull

Dull, C. J., “Unless Authorized to Act: A Suggestion for the Timing Issue in the Civil War Hypothesis Concerning the First Division in the Stone-Campbell Movement.” Encounter 63, no. 4 (2002): 373-84.

Professor C. J. Dull begins with the notion that the Civil War marked the beginning of the end of any unity within the Stone-Campbell movement. He states, however, that "[t]he problem is that the tangible split did not happen then."  Moses Lard, in his classic 1866 editorial certainly did not think that a split was taking place. Two years later, W. K. Pendleton said much the same thing. Since then, interpreters have pointed to any number of events that supposedly mark the moment of division:

1866 - the death of Alexander Campbell
1879 - the death of Benjamin Franklin
1889 - the Sand Creek Address and Declaration
1903 - the revival at Henderson, Tennessee
1906 - the official census split

"What this paper wishes to suggest is that the reason such arguments [against musical instruments and the missionary society, fvb] found increasing plausibility toward the end of the nineteenth century was that there had arisen a class of congregational leaders and members who by the mere fact that they had served in the military, whether North or South, found the argument that silence excludes more compelling."

Dull cites a few examples where subordinates during the Civil War were upbraided for having done something that, though reasonable, was not authorized. The soldier who acted without authorization was out of line, no matter how practical or pressing his actions might have been.

" . . . we can conceive that the first member of the threefold hermeneutic--command, necessary inference, approved example--would have taken on special force for war veterans, and this stronger view of 'command' in which silence does prohibit would have come more naturally for them than for those who had not served."

Dull goes on to note evidence like presence of Churches of Christ near military installations worldwide, and what seems like periods of growth among a cappella churches in the wake of American wars.

"In summary, I wish to suggest that the Civil War was a contributing factor in our first split in that it helped to nurture and emphasize a perspective that valued more highly the value of silence than had previously been the case, an issue that resonated quite strongly at the beginning of the twentieth century and, apparently, following a quarter century of general peace and negative views of the military because of the Viet Nam conflict, much less at the end. . . . On the whole, emphasis has historically been placed on prominent individuals of the period and their role in this split. Perhaps many less prominent individuals may have been equally, if not more, significant. Rather than concentrating on what such individuals as Lipscomb, McGarvey and Hardeman said, we might consider investigating to whom they said it."

Though this article presents an interesting suggestion (see again the title), it begs for evidence from sermons and articles in which advocates of the threefold hermeneutic used military examples and metaphors. Dull does not provide such evidence, which may or may not be there. If this article could cite such evidence, then that could change Dull's suggestion and conception into a considerable argument. One can only wonder if, since the publication of this article, someone has taken up the challenge of trying to assemble the necessary evidence required in order to try the case.

A Trip to Abilene

So last Thursday afternoon Michele and I got in the car and drove to Abilene. Compared to the panhandle it gets significantly hotter in that part of Texas, and the closer we got to our destination the further our car thermometer went into triple digits. By 3 that afternoon, we were somewhere around Post, Texas when the temperature reached 105.

I had booked a room at the Courtyard Marriott, which looked nice online. It was. We got to Abilene late afternoon, spent an hour or so in the pool, drove a few blocks down for a nice dinner, and then walked across the street to their shopping mall. We were amazed an hour later when we came out of the mall. At around 8:30, the temperature was in the mid-90s! Near sunset, it was still really hot. Did I mention it was hot in that part of Texas?

Anyway, on Friday morning Michele dropped me off at the Center for Restoration Studies which is in the library on the campus of Abilene Christian University. From there, she went shopping and got an afternoon massage that I had scheduled for her. The shopping and the message were the answer to her question, "If you go to Abilene so you can spend time in the library, what do I get to do?"

At the CRS, I gained a bit more in my quest to establish the timeline and travels of R. W. Officer (see previous post). Many thanks to Carisse Mickey Berryhill, who tracked down the Gospel Guide for me, and took care of a dozen other requests that day.

It also was a pleasure to finally meet in person and visit with Mac Ice at the CRS. Mac was preparing to set up an Restoration Movement hymnal display. Among the gems on the cart was the hymnal pictured here, published by Elias Smith at Boston in 1804!

We made it home late Friday evening. We were glad we got to have a quick vacation just before Michele began her new teaching job here in Tulia today.