
ALONGSIDE LAKE
GUNTERSVILLE
At this writing I am
ensconced in a comfortable little cabin alongside beautiful Lake
Guntersville in North Alabama. The Redstone Arsenal, where they make
the spaceships for Glenn and Carpenter, is only 25 miles away. The
thousands of acres of waters that run through these many hills, which
from an airplane must look like spilled blue ink upon a carpet of
green, is part of the TVA system. The Guntersville dam, one of a
dozen or so, is just around the bend from our cabin.
This is the first
real
vacation
I have ever given my family. The four of us enjoy swimming, boating,
hiking, picnicking, sunbathing, and even skiing. The last activity is
presently, however, restricted to me. The others make gallant efforts
to ride the waves, but have not succeeded as yet. Phoebe takes to
water like a duck, and if she had her way, which is often the case,
she’d be in the lake all the time. Little Benjy has had his
third birthday while we are here; he too likes the water so long as
he can hold to a firm hand.
Let’s call this a
working
vacation.
Along with writing an issue of Restoration
Review, I
have been in a study and gospel meeting at Grassy congregation near
Arab. My many friends in these parts are of long standing. I started
14 years ago in Christian work in Marshall county, and I suppose I
have had 20 different assignments since then, including upward of a
dozen tent meetings in all corners of the county. The beloved G. A.
Dunn introduced me to this area. Some of the experiences through the
years have been stormy, including some rather lively debates with
ministers of several persuasions. I once had my life threatened, but
we’ll not go into that.
This part of the South is
not only close to my heart because of the experiences I have had
here, including the cherished memories of immersing scores of
believers in these warm waters of Lake Guntersville and ponds all
over the county, but also because my dear old Dad had experiences
here when he was a boy. I remember him telling me how he once shot a
panther on nearby Sand Mountain. For years a picture of that mountain
hung on a wall in my parents’ home with an arrow penciled in by
my father, marking the place where the panther fell dead. My paternal
grandmother was from these parts. She was a Berry, and I notice that
the Berrys are as thick as the berries in these old hills. So, you
see, I am kin to these folk!
I have of course done
some changing (or growing?) in these 14 years, which the good Lord
knows was needed. Many people think I still have a lot of changing to
do, or else just crawl off somewhere and die, and they might be
right. Some of my friends have become more liberal along with me;
many have not. Congregations where I once held meetings will not now
even announce my services elsewhere. One brother asked the leaders of
his congregation to announce my study at Grassy, explaining that
“Brother Garrett brought Christ to my family, so maybe he can
do the same for someone else.” But the request could not be
granted. I no longer belong to the party. We get a few indirect
solicitations when the preachers will tell their members
not
to
attend. One visiting evangelist at a nearby rural congregation where
I have conducted meetings has for years been unduly sensitive about
Leroy Garrett. Years ago I thought he was going to whip me, and I do
mean literally,
because
of my opposition to our clerical system. My years as an editor has
added to his list of grievances against me. He was a disturbed man
over my being in the same county with him. Our mutual friends tell me
that his temper was so violent even in the pulpit, partly because I
was in the neighborhood, that they cannot afford to have him again
even if he is orthodox.
One Lord’s day at
Grassy a visiting minister with an obscure background, whom I had
neither met nor heard of, shared the platform with me as one of the
speakers. After two hours of joyous Christian fellowship with all who
had gathered to worship the King, the brother remarked to an old
friend of mine, “Well, I’d never heard anything good
about that man. . . “ Then added, “Why, I had heard he
was a digressive!”
My
friend took him to mean that things were not quite the way he had
been told.
Needless to say that
Grassy is marked as a digressive
church.
Though they still have loyal, orthodox ministers from time to time,
they are nonetheless apostate from the
faith for
having digressives like me. But God has blessed them with a gracious,
sweet Christian spirit due to their search for truth and freedom.
They will listen to anyone. It is one of the few churches I know
where anyone
can
speak so long as he is decent, and I think they are not too
particular about their standard of decency!
Well, life is a joyful
experience. My world extends all the way from the university
classroom, faculty meetings, and educational conferences to the
editor’s desk, the farmer’s humble home, and the country
church. I thank God for every hour of it.
As for my brethren, some
of whom are old friends, who do not understand me and who feel they
must oppose my work, I no longer think of this as a problem. It once
bothered me, but not so any longer. I see it as St. Francis once
prayed: “Lord, help me to realize that it is more important to
love
than
to be loved, and more important to understand
than to
be understood.”
BACK TO TEXAS!
In June of this year I
moved my family back to our native state after an absence of five
years. It was with reluctance that I resigned my position at Bethany
College to accept a post at Texas Woman’s University in Denton,
for the experiences we were all having at Bethany were so very
enriching. Bethany will always be a kind of shrine to me, for many
great and good men who have lived there were fearless to move boldly
into the world of religious ideas. It has always been a very small
village, but some of the things that have happened there are as vast
as the universe itself. While it is among the smallest of the
thousands of (West) Virginia, it nestled and nurtured the Restoration
Movement, which to my mind is the greatest thing that ever happened
to our beloved country.
I must admit that it is
difficult for me to stay away from Bethany. So many worthwhile things
have transpired there, it seems that many more should be in the
offing. Surely Bethany College is “a gem” among the small
colleges of America. It has been an honor to have shared in its great
history. I hope the very best for President Gresham and his fine
faculty, and I especially appreciate the fact that the president is
doing his best to make Bethany a college for
all
the
heirs of the Restoration Movement rather than one particular segment.
The college will always stand in the lengthened shadows of Alexander
Campbell, and for that reason alone we should all be interested in
its welfare.
Texas is of course home.
Denton is a university city of 30,000 citizens and 12,000 students
and is located on the fringe of the Dallas-Ft. Worth complex. We are
happy to be back once more with our families and many friends. At T.
W. U. I will be in business as usual, teaching philosophy to many of
the 3,000 beautiful women that grace that spacious campus. Part of my
assignment will be to lecture on psychological and philosophical
principles to 300 student nurses. We will spend the year studying the
question What
Is Man? And
all that without a man in sight except the professor! Maybe something
important will happen.
I will also for the sixth
year conduct a pilot course in high school philosophy under the
sponsorship of Lilly Endowment and MacMurray College. Denton High
School, one of the finest in the state, is the new home for this
experimental project.
We are at home in a
wonderful little city at 1201 Windsor Dr., not far from the T. W. U.
campus. Y’all come!