Travel Letter. . .

DRIVING BY SEARCY

Time did not allow that I stop, which I preferred to do, for at Harding College I have both friends and relatives, the latter being both a niece and a nephew among the student body. I was on my way to the Ozarks in northern Arkansas to visit a young physician and his wife, products, by the way, of good old Harding. Once in his home, the doctor told me of how he almost missed getting one of his first jobs, while in medical training, because he was a graduate of Harding. The company had agreed to favor the college by providing some supplies. When they did not arrive on time, one of the Harding officials berated the company’s secretary so abrasively as to have her in tears. The owner of the business happened to be listening in, only to discover that disciples of Jesus can be more insensitive to hard-working secretaries than those who make no such profession. It was one of those “If that’s Christianity . . .” So the medical student had to prove himself worthy in spite of his Christian college background.

But that is mild. If one should choose to challenge just how “Christian” our colleges are, and whether the “environment” is all that spiritual, he would have ample material. Not only in terms of how they treat faculty and students, sometimes violating academic principles that would cause state universities to wince, but how they also get their hand caught in the federal “cookie jar,” by something less than candid practices. One college had to cough up money that it had acquired under false pretenses. The federal handouts of several others would be in jeopardy if HEW were apprised of the “religious test” that they have made in the firing of several professors, some with tenure. Our colleges can be thankful that their dismissed teachers do not return evil for evil! It is their wives that the colleges must better indoctrinate. One prominent professor was invited to return to the sacred confines that he had left for a few years in favor of another school, but his wife issued a mandate that if he did return it would have to be without her, for she had had it. He couldn’t stand the Christian college where he was, and she couldn’t stand the one where he wanted to go, so they ended up at a state university where the heathen go.

But the character of these colleges is not really my subject. Even if I do know enough on them to get them hanged, at least in Washington, I have to admit to getting that “lump in the throat” when I draw nigh unto Searcy, Abilene or Nashville. One feels that he is on holy ground. That secure feeling. The ideal place to be when Jesus comes. One can feel especially secure at Searcy, for he knows that Harding can always call out the generals. The troops are never; far away from Searcy. And with both Jim Allen and Jim Bales in town, well, as I say, it makes the goose bumps crawl all over me. It must be the safest place in the world both theologically and militarily. It is also like heaven in that there are no “Commies” around.

What made this particular excursion through God’s country significant to me is that I was riding with Joe Black, one time minister of the College Church of Christ in Searcy. Joe was schooled at Lipscomb and Harding Graduate School of Religion. He rose quickly in our ranks, enjoying a successful ministry in Wichita. He was called to the Central church while still in the bloom of youth, destined to become one of our most popular ministers. He is probably the most effective preacher ever to serve the Harding community. Though he was not there long, I have heard from people all over the country that were profoundly influenced by his teaching. Some tell me he is the greatest preacher they ever heard, describing him as one who holds old and young alike spellbound by the way he lifts up the glorified Christ. Harding students were especially moved by his lessons, and it was evident that he had a bright future with that church and on that campus.

But he was soon to resign. For some years he worked with a Christian Church, and was then in business in Little Rock. Now he ministers to an independent congregation in Conway, calling itself a Bible church, which is like the Church of Christ in that it immerses and breaks bread each week. He and his wife met me at the airport and bore me northward into Ozark country to the doctor’s home, an old friend of his. It struck me as odd that I would be driving through Searcy with this brother who once ministered to the Harding community, listening to his story of how it all happened. It was one of those stories, the like of which I have heard up and down the land, that one could not believe had he not been born and bred in the Church of Christ. We are “a peculiar people,” that’s for sure.

Not that such stories are rare at Harding. I’ve heard Robert Meyers tell his, which makes it easy enough to believe that a Harding official would have no problem in browbeating a helpless secretary. Then there is the story of James Atteberry, who still doesn’t know why he was fired, after serving the college faithfully for many years. Without “due process” or any kind of hearing where he could hear and respond to charges, he was summarily dismissed. Several alumni, including our doctor friend, tried to find out why their beloved teacher was fired. There were subtle insinuations that there was something about his character, but this just didn’t make sense in the cast of the exemplary Jim Atteberry. It turned out that Jim was a liberal. They tell it around that when Jim was being questioned by some of the officials, he was asked to explain what kind of college Harding is. “Well, Harding is a liberal arts college that . . .” he drolled out. He was stopped right there. “That’s enough,” said the trustee, or whoever he was, “Harding is not a liberal college!” And that was the end of Jim Atteberry. But he has apparently served well at Pepperdine in the years since.

But Joe Black was not fired. He resigned, and at a time when there was no criticism against him or any pressure for him to do so. He had reservations about what he was supposed to believe as a part of the Harding community, and thought it proper to step down before his doubts became known. He revealed to the elders, one being the highly respected George Benson, that he had these doubts, though he was not saying anything about them, but that he would do so if anyone should ask him.

To hear this tall, dark, and handsome man talk of his secret doubts through the picturesque hills of Arkansas, one might suppose that he was considering a transcendental seance with a guru, or that he was having trouble believing the resurrection or the inspiration of the scriptures, or that he was leaning toward the “God is dead” thing that was then prominent. But, considering where we were, I was suspicious it was not that serious.

Joe is as guileless as a child and too honest to be a climber. His studies led him to believe that the Church of Christ cannot claim to be the only church, that there surely must be Christians elsewhere. He also questioned our position on instrumental music, not that we are not all right in being acappella, but in insisting that it is a sin. That was the extend of the “grave” doubts that threatened his career as a preacher of the gospel.

Once he confided to the elders these doubts, they were uneasy that his views would become known through questions the students were almost sure to ask. In due time they accepted his resignation and Joe Black, with all his potential for good, was lost to the Churches of Christ.

Joe’s real sin was in being transparent. He has not learned the worldly virtue of prudence. Many of our teachers and preachers would agree with Joe about our narrow exclusivism and our hangup on instrumental music, but they have learned to be discreet. Not only do they not say what they think, they dare not think what they really think. An honest man may be God’s noblest work, as a poet urges, but we have to agree with Plato that honesty (or justice) does not pay. Nice guys probably do come in last, and the preacher that levels with his elders, as a son with his father, is likely to be on the outside looking in. It may, of course, be a different story when the Lord passes out the rewards in the last day. I do not understand that our elders will be in charge of that. It is just as well.

What a golden opportunity those Searcy elders had to show magnanimity toward a young preacher. They could have recognized his doubts as understandable, doubts that they themselves have surely had if they ever did any thinking at all. They could have pointed out that from the beginning of our Movement our plea has been “Christians only” and not necessarily the only Christians. They could have conceded that instrumental music is not that big a deal anyway, and that he should go on and proclaim Jesus and him crucified and not be bothered by opinionism.

But he had to be sacrificed. Partyism demanded it. It shows how sectism makes men little who would otherwise be magnanimous —and who probably are in those circles outside the party. The party doesn’t really care all that much whether Jesus is exalted and the church is edified thereby. Nor is a man’s trust in Jesus valued all that much. What really counts is whether the party has sufficient control over him. If he has doubts or if he really believes contrary to the party line, he must suppress his thinking and be something less than an authentic person. If the party has him, then, yes, he can lift up Jesus and teach the word, for sectism always uses the truth to its own advantage. But can a man be owned by a party and by Jesus at the same time?

That is the question that our prudent majority (or near a majority) must face up to. If all the professors and preachers among us who question our exclusivism would speak up courageously, it would be a great blessing to the Churches of Christ. We would all the sooner give a more reasonable and a more spiritual witness to the world. The Joe Blacks here and there across the land should haunt our consciences until we too cry out, I refuse any longer to be sectarian! —the Editor