Travel Letter . . .

IN SEARCH OF ROOTS AT BETHANY

That was the one thing that impressed me the most about the Bicentennial Unity Forum at Bethany, which was the 10th and last of the Annual Unity Forum. People were there in search of roots, especially was this the case with some of the younger set. Some even admitted that they were in search of continuity with the past. Bethany is an appropriate place for this if one happens to be an heir of the Restoration Movement, for this little village was, more or less, its birthplace.

Jefferson, whom God used in forming a new nation, had a way of saying in the face of crucial issues, Let history answer this question. But the Bible said something similar long before: “Put this question, then, to the ages that are past, that went before you, from the time God created man on earth.” (Dt. 4:32). History may be “more or less bunk,” as Henry Ford put it, if one is lost in a world of technology, but, if he is in search for meaning, he may find a page of history of more value than a volume of logic, as Justice Holmes put it. As for me, I agree with Lincoln that there is no way for us to escape history; yea, we are busy making history, whether we like it or not. George Santayana, the Harvard philosopher, said it all when he insisted that those who ignore history have to repeat its mistakes.

History seemed to have been on our side at Bethany, or at least with us. It has laid its hand upon this village nestled in the hills of the Old Dominion, made famous by pioneers who forged a frontier as well as a Movement. Upwards of 100 of us from several segments of our heritage met with a sense that the past has something to say to our confused state of affairs, whether as a nation or as a Movement.

Ouida and I made it a family vacation again this year, with Philip and Ben in tow, Phoebe being excused on the ground that she is now a married woman with her own show to run. Our northern route took us through Oklahoma, Missouri, Illinois, Indiana, and Ohio. I addressed the saints in Miami, Oklahoma where we were guests of Bob and Betty White, longtime friends. We knew them when life was a real struggle. Now Bob is a college teacher and Betty a business woman, and they are grateful parents of bright and healthy children, as well as proud owners of an acreage near town. In Hartford, Illinois we stopped for a visit with Berdell and Dorothy McCann, who preside over what I call my “second home.” We also knocked at the door of Otto and Margaret Schlieper, who are now nearing 80. But Otto was already at work, out digging graves and building houses. We found Margaret making jelly and canning. They are not likely ever to retire, but will rather be at work when the Lord calls them home. People like that apparently give little thought to Social Security and government handouts. And don’t think I didn’t remind my boys of this old-fashioned virtue before their eyes. Still at work at 80! Ben got the message, but he still has difficulty seeing how anybody could ever live to be 80. Time just doesn’t last that long! Philip could appreciate people who are still at work at 80, and he thinks he might work like that by the time he’s that age!

Our southern route home took us through the Mountain State of West Virginia, which we all found breathtakingly beautiful, and on down to Charlotte, North Carolina, where we had some business responsibilities at a gift and jewelry store exhibit. We are part owners of a gift item manufacturing business in Denton, and some of our wares were on display. I felt a need to get acquainted with some of the salesmen in that region. I am impressed with the high calibre people in that business and with their interest in excellence. Only the more creative souls survive.

En route we met with a Church of Christ in Salisbury, N.C., a new congregation to us. We were pleasantly surprised to see a group of 60 or 70 that included several black families. The young preacher, not long out of Sunset School of Preaching, was both pleasant and receptive. He asked that I remain afterward, that he wanted to ask some questions. He rehearsed some of the things he had heard about Carl Ketcherside and me, and he wondered if they were true, one being whether we believed in baptism. I told him that Carl was so disgustingly conservative and orthodox that it was laughable to think of him not believing something so clearly scriptural as baptism. And that even I, as a reckless liberal, had never questioned the simple declaration that “He that believes and is baptized shall be saved.” But I explained that it was more likely that his teachers had intended to say that Carl and I do not believe that one has to understand all the blessings associated with immersion into Christ, including the promise of remission of sins and the gift of the Holy Spirit, in order for the act to be valid, a position that is consistent with Restoration leadership from the very beginning of the Movement. That involved us in a more extended exchange, all of which was delightful and profitable. He is a beloved brother and I was blessed in discovering him. I claim them all as my brothers, and I love them everyone, especially those from West Monroe and Sunset.

In Atlanta we got in a visit with Stan and Dot Carpenter, a couple that I married back when, who now have two lovely daughters. I knew Stan when he was growing up, so it seemed odd to see him now as a bearded philosopher, holding down his corner at Georgia Tech. Present for the evening were also Bob and Linda McMath. Bob is also a young Ph.D. at Tech, and he claims that some of the inspiration came from the philosophy I taught him as a senior at Denton High School a dozen years ago. When Stan and Bob met, Stan said, “I know only one person in Denton, Texas. . .” Their common influence as boys has helped to cement a friendship that is likely to hold for a long time. It does something to a teacher, whose service in the classroom is about over, to see those awkward teenagers of yesteryear now Ph.D.’s, respected members of a university faculty. To teach our youth to think is still what it’s all about, whether they become Ph.D.’s or not.

Before leaving for Montgomery we paid a visit to Underground Atlanta. Ben was especially eager for this since his Sunday School teacher had told him he shouldn’t see it. The harmlessness of the place disappointed him, I think, but we all got some idea of what part of old Atlanta looked like, and the quaintness of the place makes it worthwhile.

In Montgomery we visited with a family that we have known and loved all of our married life, the Tom Martins. One of their boys is my namesake, and another of the children was to be named Ouida, but it turned out to be a boy. It is just as well, for now she will not have to spend a lifetime spelling and pronouncing her name. Just plain Jane or Mary or Sue ain’t bad! Anyway, the Martins are busy serving the Lord in their retirement and enjoying their 9 children and 19 grandchildren, several of whom were present in an evening meeting we had in their home. Agnes Martin has always been something of a heroine to Ouida, for she has often seen her grace under pressure. That she would ever behave unseemly in any situation is to Ouida unthinkable, and I agree. And as for Tom, in life or in death he will remain one of the finest men I’ve ever known. I rejoice that they have a nice little home and acreage all their own near Wetumpka —“every plank paid for” as Agnes puts it. Since we know their story, we know that that did not come easy. I notice that those who have something in the twilight years are those who have worked, sacrificed, and saved. Ouida and I believe that there will be something special for the Martins in heaven, for even though they had a house full of kids, they made a home for still another, an afflicted five year old boy who could not even feed himself. He is now a 26year old man, though still a child, and he continues to bless the Martin home, as they put it. And it must be so, for Jimmy has lots of Martins who love him, plus all others who come to know him, including the Garretts. He proves irresistible when he eases up to you and says he loves you. Ouida heard him praying, on into the night, and she was touched that “those people from Texas” were a large part of his concern. Maybe he is not so afflicted after all, as heaven measures it.

Also in Montgomery I spoke for Dallas Burdette’s new congregation on “I desire mercy and not sacrifice,” a lesson that proved encouraging to those who heard it. Dallas told of a meeting at one of the churches there just before my arrival that proposed to examine “the unity movement.” An imported speaker from one of the colleges zeroed in on Carl and Leroy, making us look worse than we really are by mishandling our writings. A quote from Carl to the effect that the kingdom of God reaches beyond our own churches and the Restoration Movement was made to mean that people in the Church of Christ are not in the kingdom —and the point was pressed: Carl Ketcherside says you are not part of the kingdom of God! Dallas listened until he could bear it no longer. He stood and called the speaker’s hand, showing how he was misrepresenting the facts. While he was at it, he told the assembly that I would soon be in town, and if they were really interested in what we taught, he could arrange for them to hear and question me.

That did not interest them. Why hear the man himself when you can bring in a professional bruiser to do the job up right? For hire this college instructor will give you the lowdown on Ketcherside and Garrett, and already I have reports of two such places where he has done his thing, a kind of specialty he has created. I look forward to meeting this brother who knows so much about my position, and who prefers to perform without any distraction from any of us. Dallas’ boldness fouled up the works that particular time, and it did not exactly endear him to those who were running the show. One thing is sure, Dallas Burdette is fully capable of taking care of himself in any company, which makes him a fly in the ointment on such occasions. They know better than to mess with him, for he is unusually well read on what the issues of fellowship and unity are all about.

Not knowing about this incident (and not really caring if I did), I went to Montgomery and presented my two lessons, one on the glory of the Christ and one on religion as mercy. Dallas remarked afterwards: “If those brethren could have heard you talk about Christ and religion like that, I think they would be ashamed of the way they acted.” Let’s hope so, for I can have hope for a people that can still blush.

This seemed to have had special effect upon Ben, who turned 16 this summer, especially when Dallas told him how fortunate he was to be living with me, which was something of an exaggeration. Anyway, Ben came home determined to read more extensively in Mission Messenger and Restoration Review, especially stuff written before he was born or while he was but a small kid. He started with our Resources of Power (this journal for 1966) and has shown some excitement over what he has found. He came rushing into our bedroom the other night, hilarious over what happened out in Lubbock at the Church of Christ Bible Chair. I reported how one of the fellows placed a copy of Mission Messenger inside the Firm Foundation (the different sizes makes this easy) and read to the director of the Chair one of Carl Ketcherside’s articles. The director was most impressed and applauded the article, only to be terribly chagrined and embarrassed to learn that he had commended something in Mission Messenger.

Ben thought that was the berries, and trickier than anything that ever comes out of Gunsmoke or Kojak. Well, it shows that one never knows what will come out of these family vacations.

We wrapped up the two weeks with a visit with what I call “the Dirty Dozen” in Jackson, Mississippi. These are about twelve couples, more or less, who are spiritually excited, and who let their light shine in a mainline Church of Christ in that city. Loving and peaceful, they hang in there, hoping to help make the church what it ought to be. But they draw strength and encouragement from each other, sharing together and occasionally with controversial souls like me, even though their leadership does not exactly encourage it. But they are so beautiful, intelligent, affluent, and spiritual (obviously among the cream of the congregation) that they can’t exactly be ignored. They are the Church of Christ of tomorrow, you better believe it. Thank God for the “dirty dozens” across the nation! I told them some of the highlights of the Bethany forum, and we talked some about the principle of reformation. It seemed to encourage them to realize that the church has never been all it should be, not even the primitive churches, and never will be in this world, and that we must catch the vision of the church continually in need of reform, and that this is our task. If we go out and start a “loyal” church, it too will need continual reform. And that is what Restoration is all about!

The theme at Bethany was “Our Movement and Our Nation After 200 Years,” which provided us sufficient reason to call upon tested principles both political and religious. Jefferson was quoted: “I have sworn upon the altar of God, eternal hostility against every form of tyranny over the mind of man,” as was old Ben Franklin, who, upon being asked the results of the Constitutional Convention, said: “You have a republic, if you can keep it.”

We were housed in the new Millsop Center for Continuing Education, which could not have been nicer or more convenient. Gresham House, which adjoins the center, provided housing as luxurious as the finest motels, as did several of the nearby fraternity houses. We were served at the college’s dining hall, and it was there, around the tables together, that the most important things happened.

We were blessed with a very fine, across-the-board, representation. The Disciples present included Lester McAllister of Christian Theological Seminary, George Davis of National City Christian Church in Washington, D.C., William Thompson, chairman of Fellowship magazine, Robert Shaw of First Christian Church in Miami, and Burton Thurston and Perry Gresham of Bethany, along with local Bethanians Hiram Lester and Richard Kenney, who were great assets though not actually on the program. From Christian Churches were Charles Gresham, First Christian Church, Elizabethton, Tennessee; Edwin Hayden, editor of Christian Standard; and Kenneth Thomas, First Christian Church, Waynesburg, Pennsylvania.

From Churches of Christ were Paul Eckstein, Kanawha City Church of Christ, Charleston, West Virginia; Clifton Inman, Ohio Valley Christian College, Parkersburg, West Virginia; Vic Hunter, Liberty St. Church of Christ, Trenton, New Jersey; Gene Shelburne, editor of Christian Appeal, Amarillo, Texas; F. L. Lemley, Bonne Terre, Missouri; Richard Hughes, Pepperdine University, Malibu, California; and myself.

Some 70 or 80 others from 16 states were also participants in the prayers, exchanges, conversation and sharing. Especially outstanding was Perry Gresham’s presentation on “Alexander Campbell as Patriot” and Richard Hughes’ study of Campbell and early American religious thought. The Bethanians were pleasantly surprised that one could come all the way from the West Coast and from a new college and talk so knowledgeably about Campbell and his times, as did Richard Hughes. The panels on the authority of the scriptures and the nature of Restoration made some headway in getting to the nitty-gritty. And all the way through we heard much about Christ and his church, the evil of division, and the imperative of unity. And we need to keep on getting together and talking like that. It always has good effect when those who attend get back home.

Lester McAllister, longtime Disciple historian, reminisced about the Campbells on the lawn of the Campbell mansion, talking about everything from the trees he planted and the farm he ran to the study he built and the movement he launched.

At both Brush Run, the site of the first Campbell church, and at the cemetery, Perry Gresham and I shared anecdotes about our beginnings. Some were surprised that our very first congregation (not counting the Stone in Kentucky) met for two years, broke bread each week, renounced all creeds and sectarianism and worked for unity, without a single member being immersed. When Thomas Campbell finally consented to immerse the first two, he himself avoided getting into the water, but crawled out on a root and baptized from it. Though he then admitted that immersion was the scriptural mode, he himself was resolved that he would not “unchristianize” himself by being immersed, until finally he was persuaded by the example of his son. It makes for an interesting question as to just when Brush Run became a true Church of Christ, or church of Christ, if you like. A review of that history does not encourage absolutism. Almost certainly the Campbells themselves would answer the question differently than would many of my brethren here in Texas.

At the cemetery Perry and I talked about those whose bodies were there interred, sung and unsung alike. Not only the Campbells and their wives, but old W. K. Pendleton, who was twice Alex’s son-in-law and a co-editor of his journal; dear old Robert Richardson, who I admitted to be my favorite —the village physician, moving about on horseback, with top hat and tails, and the biographer of Campbell, and himself a great influence for good; “Miss Carny” or Alexandrina Campbellina Pendleton, brilliant granddaughter of Alex and longtime stalwart on Bethany faculty; Archibald McLean, longtime president of missionary society, who prayed for each missionary by name every day, and who later was a president of Bethany; Wyckliffe Ewing Campbell, the precocious 10-year old son of Alex and Selina, who mysteriously drowned while his father was in Europe; the Judson Barclays, our first missionaries (Perry likes to tell about their connection with Monticello, home of Jefferson), and Julian Barclay, great grandson of Alex, who died only recently, a schizophrenic who supposed that he was the reincarnated Jesus, but nonetheless a handsome, highly intelligent giant of a man.

Perry told of how the Scots periodically report to their cemeteries to cut the engravings on the tombs a little deeper. “That’s what we’re doing today, cutting the stones a little deeper.” It was a moving description and a great moment. And that is what the unity forum was all about. We were searching out old truths and valid principles so that we might cut them deeper. It was a search for roots in Bethany. With roots we can think in terms of fruits. —the Editor