Pilgrimage of Joy . . . No. 42

“ONE FAITH, 10,000 OPINIONS”
W Carl Ketcherside

There were two events which I attended in 1966 which were outstanding because of their nostalgic value. The first one sought to recapture for our day the spirit of Cane Ridge where it all began. It was the Second Annual Brush Arbor Meeting, near Fairfield, North Carolina, held on June 24. When I arrived the day before I found a number of men presiding over the roasting pits on which lay four hogs and a whole beef. The men were under the direction of a chef who told them when to replenish the fire under the spits and grills. They worked all night long preparing for the next day.

People came early to allow time for visiting. They parked in a huge field, directed by several men into the long rows of vehicles. Everything was very systematic and orderly. By the time for the morning meeting there were about three thousand present. The license plates bore the name of a number of states. The pulpit was erected out in the open and had a canopy of brush over it. It was a haunting reminder of the old days. I recalled the times I had spoken in a brush arbor in the Missouri Ozarks in my younger days. After I had spoken in the morning meeting the people lined up in six rows to be served with meat and slaw. The food was great and the fellowship was wonderful. Nothing was lacking.

The other event was The Cumberland Christian Camp Meeting, held out in a state park near Corbin, Kentucky. The town itself was renowned as the home of Colonel Sanders, of Kentucky Fried Chicken Fame. One could see the restaurant where he had gone bankrupt, with nothing left but a recipe and a vision. These he had parlayed into a fortune. The colonel was immersed while still a boy and had been a member of several Christian Churches.

The camp meeting was held under a huge tent. A number of brethren pitched tents around it and stayed for the entire thing, including the chicken barbecue prepared by men of the Corbin area the last evening. It was my privilege to stay with Fred Waggoner, whom I had known in Logan, Ohio, and several other places. Like myself he was pretty much of a “homespun” preacher who operated a grocery store at Grayson where we first became acquainted. He would tackle anything, whether qualified or not, and generally was successful. We had a great time together and the meetings were tremendous.

From the pulpit one could look out to where the blue haze dropped down on distant hills. The cool crisp mountain air in the morning was invigorating. It was easy to imagine the wagon trains of yesteryear snaking through the Cumberland Gap. Kentucky was destined to play a prominent part in the restoration ideal. It was at Cane Ridge that it began, and at Lexington that the forces of Stone and Campbell met together and became one. It was at the outset of the meeting which consummated this .union that John Smith said, “While there is but one faith, there may be ten thousand opinions; and hence, if Christians are ever to agree, they must be one in faith, and not in opinion.” It felt good to be making that same plea.

I went to Macrorie, Saskatchewan, for the camp meeting in which I taught. There were 150 enrolled. This gathering was sponsored by the congregation at Outlook, a little group of hardy souls, numbering about 25 in those days. The camp was located in a shady valley which cut like a gash through the wheat fields of the almost boundless prairie. The people who attended pitched their tents, or pulled their campers into little cleared spots in the underbrush. I slept in the back of a converted school bus. It was a tremendous time of fellowship and Bible teaching. The camp has contributed much to the alleviation of suspicion and distrust. Although the congregation does not use instrumental music it has consistently refused to make a test of it and has used preachers who favor it. The result is that sharing has been encouraged and needs have been met in a very real way. Much of this is directly attributable to the Banting and Tweedie families who have worked together amicably for years, and whose good judgment and commonsense have become noteworthy.

On September 1, 2, I was the speaker at Pearson’s Mill Christian Assembly near Converse, Indiana. The camp director is Rod Cameron, a man of many talents, and a great friend of mine. A descendant of the Scottish clan Cameron, Rod was fortunate enough to marry Beverly who has stood by him through thick and thin. That has taken some doing because it was often thicker than it was thin. Early on he became a ventriloquist, and he and his dummy are well known. He went to Africa in 1958, shortly after the erection of the gigantic Kariba Dam on the Zambezi River in Rhodesia. They cut a track of almost eleven miles through the heavy brush, and for several months slept on the bed of their Chevrolet Power Wagon. Their first kitchen was a tarpaulin stretched over a rope, their first storage room was a shelter made with reeds. Their water supply was eight miles away.

Rod nearly drove the “witch doctors” up a tree by his ventriloquism. They did not know what to make of Gabby. Few people really do. There were few things the witch doctors could do that Rod could not do better. But I had to leave to begin preparation for the delivery of the speeches in the Roy B. Shaw Memorial Lectureship, held annually at San Jose Bible College. The school has a great history of promoting unity. It was while Bill Jessup, that wonderful man of God, was president of the college, that Ernest Beam began to make overtures of oneness. Brother Jessup brought him into the Bay Area for a joint meeting of brethren. It was shot down by anti-instrumental brethren who attended for that purpose. It ended in a shouting match which was disorderly. Challenges were waved about for debates. But times have changed, and there were brethren present from all segments of the church to hear me. Al Tiffin, the president, had contributed well to the ongoing dreams of his predecessors.

It was about this time that the magazine Mission began. The first edition carried articles by Abraham J. Malherbe, Roy Bowen Ward, Thomas H. Olbricht, Donald McGaughey, Wesley C. Reagan, and Juan A. Monroy. The journal began as a kind of sophisticated medium to relate to the modern world in which we live. It proposed to give good thinkers a chance to be heard in a way they could not in the ordinary publications. From the first it had to be subsidized by its trustees. It faced opposition, both overt and covert, because it did not hesitate to milk sacred cows, which previously had been used only for worship. It is a matter of deep shame that Abilene Christian College exercised censorship over those on its staff who wrote for it, and brought pressure upon them to quit.

It was during 1966 that Norman Waters, a Tutor at Fitzwilliam College, at the University of Cambridge, in England, passed away. He was the first president of the Alexander Campbell Society. This was a coalition of persons in various colleges and universities in Great Britain who had banded themselves together to preserve the heritage and influence of the reformer.

He was succeeded by Peter D. Archer, of Glasgow, and Philip Brooks became the secretary of the society.

The last named and I began a correspondence which lasted over a period of several years. From him I obtained a list of the members and their addresses. It was interesting to note that they came from every college and university in the entire United Kingdom. I became an associate member and enjoyed the exchanges with some of the most brilliant young minds I have ever known.

Some fine things happened to people whom I knew and loved during 1967, things which caused me to rejoice in their behalf. Bert Ellis wrote from Pusan, Korea, about discovery of a grassroots movement of concerned Christians who could see the folly of denominationalism. Mont Smith, reported from Kiramu, Ethiopia, that 87 native people attended meetings in his livingroom in one week. Dr. Robert Walker and his wife Phyllis were being used of God at Hippo Valley Christian Hospital, in Rhodesia. William Hendren, Belfast, North Ireland, with whom I had made my home, was elected a Fellow of the Royal Microscopical Society. John L. Morrison received his Ph.D. from Stanford. The subject of his thesis was “Alexander Campbell and Moral Education.”

Henry Boren, of the History Department at the University of South Carolina received a grant from the National Endowment for the Humanities, which would enable him to live in Rome for a year and work on a numismatic project. Thomas Langford accepted a fellowship for a year of work at the United States Office of Education, in Washington, D. C. Boyd L. Lammiman was selected as the new president of Alberta Christian College in Calgary. He is still there. A. V. Mansur brought out a new book under the title “Let My People Go.” Gordon Souder, who was living at Burnaby, British Columbia, finished a second semester of Russian language study at Simon Fraser University and was laboring with Russian-speaking Christians in the area.

Bob Duncan was granted a sabbatical leave from his position at Illinois State University to do research in California. Barry Willbanks was awarded an Honor Scholarship at Harvard Theological Seminary for top-flight scholastic work. The Dallas Times Herald featured a three-column spread on the work of Leroy Garrett in the field of Christian unity. Brother Garrett expressed himself as being extremely optimistic for the future. Mike Wood was given a scholarship for research at Emory University. All of this seems so very long ago. I cite these instances to show how active God is in human affairs. He is continually bestowing gifts, blessing all of us, calling all of us to greater heights of service. It is no wonder that I bow in humblest adoration and daily give thanks for His marvelous grace.

Of course, during the year He called a lot of brethren to be with him. He allowed them to graduate ahead of the regular class, and receive their diplomas before the rest of us were called. Among these were James Pierce, a wonderful brother in Des Moines, Iowa; Bonds Stocks, former administrative assistant to Rep. John Rankin, of Mississippi; Cleo Mabery, Flat River, Missouri, whom I immersed when both of us were fifteen years of age; Vearla Foltz, Chillicothe, Missouri, a retired rural mail carrier, whose home had often been mine; James A. Allen, Nashville, Tennessee, long time editor of the Apostolic Times. Bro. Allen was set against the rise of the clergy system, which he could see invading the churches. He was handicapped in his opposition by location and circumstances. Paul Mackey, Burbank, California, an excellent journalist, finally succumbed to cancer after a long battle. He was only 33 years of age.

As I look in retrospect upon the death of these and others whom I knew I wonder what changes would have occurred if they had lived. What kind of an impact would they have made upon the world? Then I am encouraged to press on without delay, knowing that I shall join them on the other side. It is a wonderful thought that those whom we knew over here we shall see over there where all conflicts have ceased and all strife is past.