Pilgrimage of Joy . . . No. 57

DIVERSE MINISTRIES
W. Carl Ketcherside

Before I get too far from it, I must tell you about the Thanksgiving Workshop of Evangelicals for Social Action, in which I was invited to participate as a delegate. It was held in the Downtown Y.M.C.A. in Chicago and lasted for three days. There were two men from the Independent Christian Churches and one other from the Churches of Christ, Vic Hunter, who had been editor of Mission but had just resigned. It was interesting to listen to those who had been invited to speak in behalf of various groups, blacks, Orientals, and Hispanic. Some of the most fervent oratory was poured forth in behalf of a majority group in our society - women!

Among those who impressed me most were Paul Rees, Tong Gaw, and Carl F. H. Henry. The latter delivered one of the finest speeches I had ever heard. Leaving all theory aside he went straight to the Bible, and made it come alive. He seemed to be a master of the art of exposition. He developed the parable of the injured man on the road to Jericho in a truly new and exciting way. I liked the calm fashion in which he reacted to the questions and feedback which grew out of his speech. He was firm without being stubborn, practical without being pushy.

In looking back now upon the year I am describing, I find another thing which brought great satisfaction to Nell and myself. I had made it a practice, when I sold enough books to pay for the printing, to start giving the remainder away to college students absolutely free. We even paid the cost of wrapping and postage. In seven years we gave away over 4200 volumes. The postage alone was a little more than fifteen hundred dollars.

No one who wrote was turned down provided he personally requested the book. We refused to send them to young people at the request of preachers or parents. We did not want those who received them to feel obligated to read them. We did not propose to thrust anything down unwilling gullets. The books went to every continent. We mailed them to Cambridge, Oxford, the University of Leeds, and various other schools in England. We sent them to universities in Lebanon, Egypt, Taiwan, Amsterdam, Germany and South Africa. It was a real joy to get letters with odd-looking stamps and quaint handwriting asking for one of the books. It helped to show the circulation range of our little paper.

We were not even launched into the New Year when I received word of the death of longtime friends. M. S. Whitehead, one of the original students at the old Alabama Christian College, when G. A. Dunn was president, and the college was located at Berry, many years ago. We had become real friends. Harry Robert Fox, Sr., the gentle missionary who planted the cause so firmly in Japan, and who finally retired to Inglewood, California. He wrote me such encouraging and stimulating letters, never complaining about his own increasing age and infirmities. Elizabeth Vermillion, of Riverside, California. I used to stay at their house in Springfield, Missouri, when I was known as “the boy preacher.” I played with her sons until they had to summon me into the house to get ready for evening meetings. John Hasty, the dyed-in-the-wool Republican of Nixa, Missouri. He lived to the age of 94, always kind and considerate of others. These all died in the faith, having seen the promises and embraced them afar off.

I returned to Westchester, California, the second week of the New Year. The meeting was kind of outstanding. Each night a different group sang. One night the whole Pepperdine University Chorus was there. Another night, the black choir from Figueroa Boulevard Church of Christ was present. A children’s group from a day school was present one night, and still another group from Westchester. These all harmonized a half hour before the preaching began. Every night there were people present from 36 to 53 congregations. It was like old home week. Harold Thomas presided over the meetings. Those of you who have heard him know what an outstanding job he does. I spoke one day for the Southern California Christian ministers, and another for the faculty meeting at Pepperdine.

I went from there to Macomb, Illinois, to visit the campus work which was being carried on under the versatile and capable direction of John Derry at Western Illinois University. This was the thing I liked to do best. It was a real thrill to engage in a dialogue session with young people of college age. Their questions were not stereotyped. They were new, fresh and vibrant. And they demanded answers to the problems of life. A good many students seemed jaded, tired and fed up with the daily routine. I noticed that those who had come to know Jesus did not seem to fit into the groove chopped out for the “average student.” Generally, they were a cut above, having added a spiritual dimension to life. And John was doing a great job in helping them to take full advantage of their new perspective.

I found a relatively small non-instrumental congregation in Macomb. Several of the members were connected with the college in the role of instructors. I sought to get them to begin clearing the ground for accomplishing some things together with brethren in the Christian Church. Their common historical roots could nourish them both. One thing I recommended was that they take turns holding their midweek Bible studies together. To me, it seemed a shame to have a mere handful of people studying in each place when they could combine for one night a week with no compromise of convictions.

The first of February found me at the World Convention of Missions at Grand Junction, Colorado. It was sponsored by Intermountain Christian College. Both the college and the convention were the fruition of the dream of Erskine Scates, the president of the school. Always an ardent advocate of sharing the Good News with the poverty-stricken people of the universe, he arranged the annual convention to inform and alert the inhabitants of the fertile Colorado Valley of the needs of the regions beyond. He has now departed to be with Jesus but he has left his sons to put wings to his words and feet to his prayers.

I had been in correspondence with Al B. Nelson, a long-time instructor at Texas A & M University, at College Station, about coming to Bryan, Texas. We had agreed upon February 19-21 as the date. The little Christian Church there had been beset by difficulties of one kind and another, and it was a pleasure to go and proclaim the good news of peace. I was agreeably surprised to see a goodly number of brethren from the Churches of Christ present, and although they tended not to agree upon some of my answers to certain questions, that was to be expected. I tried never to trim my response to please the querist, but to answer in such a manner that I would be willing to give an account if it was the last thing I ever said. I was also perfectly content to do as Martin Luther said, “Give men time.” We did not arrive at our present state in one day, nor would we get out of our predicament by sunset.

I made my home with Brother and Sister Nelson, and it was a lovely and quiet place. As we breakfasted together I could look out on the rear courtyard where Sister Nelson kept the birds well supplied with an “avian smorgasbord.” Some of them were so tame and had been regular customers for so long they would hop up on the windowsill and watch us as we ate. Brother Nelson and I wasted no time. It was a literary blessing for me to be with one who knew Texas so well, and we talked about two realms - heaven and the Lone Star State without stopping.

I went next to Lake Wales, Florida, for the Lake Aurora Christian Assembly meeting. Brethren reported later that it was the largest in attendance of any Men’s Retreat they had ever held. I spoke three times and held open forums for questions twice. The questions were especially good. The men had gravitated to Florida from every part of the north. They brought with them the sectional bias of each area, and they wanted to know the truth about their views. I pointed out that every movement begun by men to unite the believers inevitably passes through the same sequence --- charity, innovation, debate, division, sectarianism, and charity again. This starts the whole process over. We are just now emerging from our period of hibernation in the deep freeze of sectarianism. It is difficult for us to be charitable. We are afraid of going too far, of denying what our parents fought to achieve. But our parents were not perfect and a lot of things which they willed us are questionable. We need not fear being lost at sea as long as we cling to the Rock. Jesus Christ is Lord. If we steer by Him instead of by history we will be safe.

At Lexington, Ohio I was scheduled to speak on three themes which were particularly relevant to our times: Do Demons Inhabit the Bodies of Men Today?; Can the Planets Decide Our Fate?; and Resurrection and the Life Beyond. These were on everyone’s mind because of “The Exorcist.” The house was filled for every service and more than a hundred gathered for the question periods each day. It was a real blessing to be associated with such generous, warmhearted saints, and I thrilled to their companionship in the Lord Jesus.

I had been issued an invitation to speak at the International Convention of Christian Endeavor which was to be held at Portland. More than a thousand persons were in attendance. After I addressed the entire group they split into two equal sections and I met with about 500 of them to answer questions about the faith in Christ Jesus. There were a good many delegates from foreign countries. As a result of speaking for the gathering I have three times been invited to address the Easter Sunrise Service which they sponsor in one of the most beautiful parks in Saint Louis. It attracts some 2500 persons.

I went next to Bloomington, Minnesota where I spoke to the congregation of which Robert Cash is the able minister. Fortunately, it was far enough to the north that the party spirit did not prevail with the same bitterness and intensity in which it is found farther to the south. As a result we had in attendance a great number of Church of Christ brethren. This always makes the question forums of particular interest. Both sides tend to ask about things of which the others have not the faintest inkling of knowledge. Because of their long years of isolation and insulation, both have accepted their own distinctives.

April 23-25 found me at the Colony Heights congregation in Fort Wayne, Indiana, with George L. Shull. It had been a long time since I had been in Fort Wayne. I had made three trips there previously. I found a town which had known the impact of change. The men who had been laboring there when I had originally visited were all gone. But Jesus was there alive and well. It was interesting to see how He could adapt to various circumstances and conditions, and influence them.

Less than two weeks later I was in Lansing, Michigan, for the State Christian Convention. This made it possible for me to meet a great many good friends I had made through the years. Michigan was always very interesting to me. It was in Detroit that Brother Malcolmson, an elder who had come over from Scotland to become wealthy in the coal importing business, had staked Henry Ford to his first $50,000 when Ford was beginning to experiment with his motor vehicle. Ford used to attend services with him. Legend has it that he immersed Ford. They had no preacher for they were staunch believers in mutual ministry. Malcolmson spoke on the theme once at the Abilene Christian College lectureship. It was a masterful address.

In 1856, Isaac Errett left Warren, Ohio, with a group interested in the lumber business. He had to travel by stage from Detroit far back into the timber country. The business failed and Errett started planting churches instead of cutting down trees. He brought about 1000 new members into the body before leaving for Cleveland to edit the Christian Standard. Before he left he was under fire for a sign on his door which read “Rev.” Isaac Errett. He was the first man in the Restoration Movement to adopt a title. I went to Michigan with a lot of history behind me. I tried to make a little while I was there.