ALEXANDER CAMPBELL: A SPECKLED BIRD

“I became so speckled that no species would own me.”

Mr. Campbell was quoting John Newton when he made that statement in the 1854 edition of Millennial Harbinger, p. 230, but he thought Newton’s words applied to himself as well. The occasion was the prospect of a new version of the scriptures emanating from the labors of the American Bible Union, in which Mr. Campbell was to have a part. But among the Baptists there were some who were not cooperating in the effort, and there was objection to Mr. Campbell in particular. So he is defending himself against his detractors when he writes:

“I have stated my views and my faith on all great matters in the pulpits and in the audience of the old Rabbis, East and West; to the Williamses, McClays, and Parkinsons, of New York; to the Holcomes, and Staughtons, of Philadelphia; the Healey and Finleys, of Baltimore, and whenever they come in my path, from Georgia to Vermont, from the City of Washington to the Missouri River and the Indian Territories, to say nothing of all the Rabbis in the Valley of the Mississippi.”

In making this defense of his orthodoxy, he explains why he has met with opposition from the clergy: “Our efforts for more than thirty years have been to take man out of the hand of the Priest. We have not labored in vain. Still, multitudes of our contemporary Protestants, Baptist and Pedobaptist are not yet emancipated from the manacles and the fetters of Protestant priests.”

He thought a fresh version of the scriptures would liberate myriads more.

But those who opposed the new version did so on the ground that Mr. Campbell was not orthodox. So he goes on to say:

“My real genuine orthodoxy was never questioned on any of the vital principles of Christian faith, Christian piety, and Christian morality.”

Yet he was different. He admits to being a speckled bird.

“Like John Newton, of Olney memory, whenever I saw a pretty feather in any bird, I pulled it out and placed it in my own plumage, until, as he said, . I became so speckled, that no species would own me’; till, like him, ‘I began to think that I had become the prettiest bird among them.’”

There is important truth in these words, whether from Newton or from Campbell. To gather feathers from others we must of course be in their company. If we are preoccupied with admiring our own plumage, however dull it may appear to others, we are not likely to see beauty in any feather that is not of us. The willingness to be taught by those different from ourselves is a Christian virtue. One is wise who has eyes that can see beauty as well as ugliness in what others believe.

We should be willing to draw truths from any source whatever, and weave them into a position of our own, even at the risk of being a speckled bird. I tell my girls at the university that my philosophy is eclectic, that I am part idealist, part realist, part pragmatist, part existentialist, etc., for I find truths in all these. If I end up with a coat of many colors, like Joseph, then let it be a coat of many colors. If I be so speckled that no one claims me, I have at least preserved my own integrity, and I have been honest to God.

May God make us a flock of speckled birds, along with solid colors, stripes, and even polka dots. There is health in honest differences. I accept a man as my brother, not because his plumage is precisely the same as mine, but because he is in Christ. Since he is a son of God the Father, he is my brother beloved. As brothers we can pull feathers from each other’s plumage, and thus become more interesting persons and more creative Christians. It isn’t a pecking order that I’m calling for, but some feather pulling.—the Editor