LETTER FROM A DISTURBED YOUNG
MINISTER
This
letter from David Elkins, one of our promising young princes, speaks
for itself. In response to my request that his letter be published in
this journal, he gave his permission with the unusual provision that
my letter to him be published along with it. I did not even
have a copy of what I had written to him, so he returned my letter in
order that it could accompany his in this issue. Here you have them
both.—The Editor
May 16, 1969
Dear David:
From some of our mutual friends I had already heard of some of the things that have happened to you, but I am pleased to have this report from you personally.
Let me say congratulations and praise God! To be so treated by the Establishment is no less an honor than being excluded from the synagogue in the time of our Lord. In that day those that loved the praise of men more that the praise of God managed to get along with the Establishment. The others were kicked out.
We must remember that we cannot be free from the System and at the same time draw our support from it. For that reason you will be wise to prepare yourself to live independent of the powers that be. We may not always prefer making tents, but that is sometimes the price for being free—and it is well worth it, believe me!
A number of fellows like yourself have chosen education and are preparing themselves to teach. This is most compatible with those things we hold dear.
Yet there are some free congregations and their tribe is increasing, and they want to know about men like yourself. To such ones I shall be passing along some of the information you have sent me. There may be a place for you with one of them, but again I would urge you to make yourself independent, for one is never really free until he is financially divorced from a religious system that tends to enslave.
Your letter is a story that is now being told again and again, as you have noted, but it still needs to be told. It gives others courage.
With your permission I would like to run the letter in Restoration Review. We can do this as it is with your name signed. Or we can run it by editing out any references of identification in terms of names and places. Such stories as these do two important things when read by many. It encourages others to stay with us and work for a change. It encourages others to do as you have done: be strong and free for Jesus’ sake.
Sincerely,
LEROY GARRETT
Dear
Leroy,
My
name is David Elkins. I am a member of the Church of ChriSt, having
been born and raised in one of our hotbeds of orthodoxy—Northeast
Arkansas. For as long as I can remember I wanted to be a “gospel
preacher.” My first talk”God’s Plan versus Man’s
Plan of Salvation”was delivered when I was 13.
By
the time I was 15 I was speaking at various churches in and
around Pocahontas, Arkansas. When I was 16 and a senior in high
school, the Church of Christ at Imboden, Arkansas asked me to preach
“regularly for them. It was here that I began to build my
clergical reputation, which was destined to “sparkle brightly
for a moment and then sputter into darkness.” God gave me
abilities which tended to impress people and furnish construction
blocks for the reputation-building I was engaged in. I had a gift of
eloquence, which won me a state public speaking championship as well
as unabating applause in the pulpit. I was well-grounded in the
shibboleths of the Church of Christ and intelligent enough to change
the cliches just enough to impress people with my creativity and yet
not cause anyone to doubt my “soundness.” My reputation
as a “young, promising preacher” became great enough that
when I graduated from high school, I felt I was quite fully prepared
to preach and decided to attend Freed-Hardeman a couple of years only
to impress the “degree-conscious” brethren and so that
“greater doors of service” would open to me.
By
what I consider an act of God’s providence, I decided at the
last moment to attend Harding College.
God
had several men at Harding he wanted me to meet. They were men who
didn’t have all the “canned” answers I was used to.
They were men who led me to search for my own identity and the
essence of my relationship to Christ. Gradually, the sectarian
“doctrines” which had occupied so prominent a place in my
earlier preaching were now fading into relative insignificance and
were replaced by sermons on Christ, fellowship, and love. During my
four years at Harding the Lord changed me from a convinced
Pharisaical sectarian into a disturbed Pharisaical sectarian. During
this time I had not forgotten my reputation-building. I managed to
become president of the preachers’ club at Harding, and my
senior year I graduated Cum laude and was selected as the “most
outstanding Bible major.”
This
reputation building was soon to be my undoing for it was my
reputation which led to my being offered the pulpit of a large
northern congregation. In the summer of 1967 I moved to Flint,
Michigan and began preaching for the Lennon Road Church of Christ,
one of the largest and most progressive congregations in Michigan.
Everything went well for several months. Institutionally and
statistically speaking, the congregation experienced unexcelled
growth. Everyone, and especially my elders, seemed to be pleased with
the way things were going.
And
then an event occurred which touched off the biggest ecclesiastical
mess I have ever seen. The preachers in the Flint area began a weekly
discussion and fellowship period with one another. The chairman
encouraged each preacher to speak his opinions freely on the subjects
discussed. Naive like, I thought he really meant it, and in
discussing the basis of fellowship I cheerfully set forth my budding
belief that we should hold as our brother any baptized believer who
is striving to make Christ the Master of his life. To my delight two
or three others seemed to hold the same view. To my dismay, however,
most did not share my feeling and as time went on, their opposition
to the “liberalism” of the rest of us grew into suspicion
and cold-shoulderness.
Two
of these “liberals” were implicated in some church
trouble and all the blame was laid at their feet. As far as I could
see, these men were quite blameless in the matter and had simply
become the prime suspects in a diligent witch-hunt by the orthodox.
Because of my love for these two brethren, I refused to participate
in the branding and ostracizing which was gaining momentum in the
Flint area. Unfortunately, my elders were carried away by gossip
about “dangerous liberalism” and “efforts to
undermine the Lord’s church.” Because of my continuing
fellowship with these “modernists” (who actually believed
the Lord’s Supper was eaten daily by the Jerusalem Church!), it
wasn’t long until the witch-hunters came knocking at my door
with a warrant to search my theological closets. In a meeting with my
elders I explained my belief that there is no scriptural prohibition
to eating the Lord’s Supper daily. I told them that I
personally was opposed to instrumental music in “the worship”
but could not conscientiously preach it as a “sin” nor
say that people who use it will go to hell. When the meeting was
over, I felt I had escaped the “Test for Witches” and
that, though we disagreed to some extent, mutual respect for one
another’s beliefs prevailed.
But,
as I was soon to learn, it’s not enough to be vindicated from
the charge of being a witch yourself, you also must not associate
with witches. I continued to count the “witches” in Flint
as personal friends and brothers. In a sermon one Sunday morning I
pleaded with my people not to participate in the factious, partyistic
ostracization which was becoming far too common in our brotherhood. A
few, already convinced of the presence of “false prophets”
in our area, took this to mean (and rightfully so) that I disagreed
with the prevailing opinion that “dangerous, undermining
liberals” were at large among us.
As
a result, my elders met with me on the following Monday night. We all
agreed that it would be better to sever our “working
relationship” because of conflicting philosophies. I was told I
could stay at Lennon Road for 90 days but by my own choice I decided
the following Sunday would be my last. I now feel this may have been
a mistake in judgment on my part, and I can feebly excuse my rashness
only by stating that for several months I had been in a stifling
bishop-dominated prison. Now that freedom was in sight, I could
hardly stand the thought of waiting three more months before walking
out those doors.
The
very next Sunday it was announced that “by mutual consent”
I would no longer be the preacher at Lennon Road. This announcement
really was a shock to the people. They wanted to know what was going
on. My elders immediately volunteered that I was in “doctrinal
error” via a public announcement that Sunday night. Well, now
they had said it. Almost without meaning to, my elders had said I,
too, was a witch. Now that it had been publicly stated, there was no
turning back. I was a witch and like all witches, I had to be burned
at the stake. So, sure enough, I was disfellowshipped. To his
everlasting credit one elder disagreed with the other elders. He was
removed from the eldership and has subsequently also been charged
with witchcraft and felt the pains of excommunication by a
congregation he has served for 17 years.
Now
that the bandwagon was rolling, the Lennon Road eldership seemed to
be obliged to serve as drivers. They not only excommunicated me and
the elder who disagreed with them; they also disfellowshipped the
entire leadership of a congregation in a nearby town who accepted me
into their communion. Dean Thoroman, one of the elders at this
congregation, is also manager of the “Oak Hills Home for Unwed
Mothers” in Detroit. Because this is a Church of Christ
sponsored project unbelievable hierarchal pressures have been brought
on the home. The Lennon Road elders met with the board of Oak Hills
and said they would not support the home with Dean as its manager.
This fall he will lose his job, and Oak Hills may very possibly go
under. Just what else the Lennon Road elders will do remains to be
seen. Perhaps only God and Ira Rice know.
Leroy,
I’m sure this is a story you have heard many times. Please
forgive the gory details and the traces of overdone negativism. I’ve
written all this with a selfish motive—I want to preach again.
Being a “full-time, paid preacher” may not be the best
way or perhaps even a good way to serve the Lord, but right now it’s
the only way I can see to put my abilities to the greatest good. For
six months I’ve been working for General Motors. I have almost
no time, it seems, for the things my heart is really full of, such as
deeper study, writing, preaching, etc. I often feel depressed and
have a great sense of purposelessness.
Though
at times I have felt I would never be a “professional preacher”
again, I now feel that I must. To avoid becoming overly discouraged
and bitter I need to be doing the work I know best how to do for
Christ.
If
you know of any congregation that would accept me just as I am to
work among them, I would consider it a real favor if you would help
bring us together.
In His service,
DAVID N. ELKINS
1110 Garland,
Flint, Mich. 48503
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My principal method for defeating error and heresy, is, by establishing the truth. One purposes to fill a bushel with tares; but if I can fill it first with wheat, I may defy his attempts.—John Newton