Pilgrimage
of Joy. . . No. 59
MORMONS
AND JEWS
W.
Carl Ketcherside
Nell and
I received a blow when we learned of the almost sudden death of
Brother Melvin Burton at Escondido, California. We had known Melvin
and Gladys most of their lives. They moved to Saint Louis shortly
after we did and our families grew up together. Their son Curtis
married our daughter Sue. Bro. Burton had served until retirement in
the criminal investigation division for the Federal Bureau of
Investigation. He had helped to close the case against Tom
Pendergast, the racketeering boss of Missouri, and had worked on the
Al Capone case in Chicago. When he retired he was honored by the
President of the United States as well as by many others in the
political spectrum. There was never a breath of scandal against him.
In Oct.,
1975. the Saint Louis Realtor’s Association decided to have a
prayer breakfast. It was to become an annual event if it was
successful. They asked me to speak at it. A great deal depended upon
the reaction. It was at 6:30 in the morning at a prominent hotel.
Many of those who came had been “out on the town” the
night before. A great many were smoking cigarettes as if their life
depended on it, rather than the opposite. The president was a
consecrated Christian gentleman. After breakfast he made a few
remarks, led a prayer for God’s guidance, and introduced me. I
have never before felt the same nearness of the Spirit.. I spoke
about 18 minutes. After the first five the attention was riveted. At
the close there was a standing ovation. I am glad to report that the
prayer breakfast is a regular thing now.
I was
invited to come next to the Kentucky State Teen Convention at
Lexington. It was great to see the hundreds of youthful Christians
gathering for the occasion. The singing was rousing, the spirit
encouraging and the atmosphere was excellent. It gave me a great
thrill to touch so many lives while they were still in the dewy
freshness of young manhood and womanhood. The courage, faith and hope
of such people is a tremendous source of strength to me.
I went
from there to Canada to the Ontario Christian Seminary. The president
was Alan Larue. I had first met him years ago at a little rural
congregation in Ohio. He was always a man of vision and foresight. He
had gone to Toronto and built the school up to its present rating. It
was a brilliant move. Toronto, an Indian name meaning “a place
of meeting,” was already the second city in Canada, in point of
population. It had just begun to expand. A great medical, museum and
musical center, it was also the home of Toronto University, one of
the great educational centers of our day. The city was also the home
of a tremendous annual exposition. The seminary was small in number,
but had an impact beyond its size. It was great to be able to talk
with the students between sessions and to share in their plans and
ambitions.
December
3-5 found me at Wickliffe, Ohio. Here I was permitted to be with Jack
Ashworth, who previously labored with the Church of Christ, but who
had been delivered from a lot of the sectarian hang-ups. Because of
the freedom and openness of the congregation it was under suspicion
by many others in the general Cleveland area. The very first morning
six of the preachers came together to question me. Just as soon as I
announced we were ready for queries from the audience they “hogged
the show” and sought to dominate the proceedings. It was rather
interesting. They followed the pattern I have seen so often. One
would ask a leading question, and the other would have his hand in
the air before I answered it. They laid down a barrage of questions
but fortunately I had heard all of them before, many times.
One of
the interesting features about this kind of tactic which I have
experienced so often is the reaction upon those who attend my
meetings and who did not grow up in an exclusivistic Church of Christ
atmosphere. They can hardly believe their ears. In most cases the
questioners keep an eye on their watches and about five minutes
before quitting time “they fold their tents like the Arabs. and
as silently steal away.” When they leave, someone is almost
certain to burst out with, “Who in the world are those men, and
what do they represent?” Of course, these men cannot eat
luncheon in the meetinghouse, so they never meet people informally
and personally. They can only hit and run, so they appear cowardly to
those who cannot understand either their purpose or their method of
trying to attain it. The sectarian spirit makes cowards of men who
ought to be brave.
Since
Kirtland was quite close, I was eager to go over and see this place
which Joseph Smith made quite famous. It was very near the home of
Sidney Rigdon, who was a Baptist preacher at Mentor originally. He
was an eloquent man who was led into what was called “the
current reformation” by Alexander Campbell, after an all night
talk on the front porch at Bethany. He became very close to Campbell,
even traveling with him by horseback to Washington, Kentucky, to take
notes on the debate with McCalla.
Rigdon
was led into Mormonism by Parley P. Pratt, who with his brother
Orson, was another defector from the Campbell movement. Rigdon had a
profound effect upon the developing Mormon faith and is credited with
a lot of the theology which became part of it. He expected to become
its head, succeeding Smith, who was shot to death in the jail at
Nauvoo, Illinois, by enraged citizens who resented his ambitious
attitude and his taking of other wives. But he was shouldered aside
by Brigham Young, and at the age of sixty returned a broken man to
his boyhood home in Friendship, New York. Here he worked as a
shingle-packer, disillusioned and upset, referring to himself as an
“exile.”
The
“saints” as they refer to themselves, built a “temple”
in Kirtland. It is still maintained by the “Reorganized Church”
of Independence, Missouri, one of the five branches into which the
movement separated. The caretakers and guides try to make it appear
that the blueprint was inspired and the Lord acted as foreman in its
erection. It is evident that this is only part of the myth of which
the whole false system has been constructed. It has been built into
one of the most cleverly-contrived fabrications ever devised to fool
and deceive an unsuspecting world.
On two
consecutive Tuesdays in December I was scheduled to be the speaker at
the Messianic Forum luncheon in Saint Louis. These are held every
Tuesday at noon at the Downtown Holiday Inn. They began on May 14,
1948, the day that Israel became a nation, following a resolution by
the United Nations General Assembly, on Nov. 29, 1947. This called
for an end to the British Mandate for Palestine which had been
established by the League of Nations in 1922. I have now spoken about
36 times to the group, which is attended by Jews with a great deal of
love for Jerusalem. Some of these are believers in Jesus, but a great
many are opposed to him. They are held together by a mutual love for
Israel, although their reasons for that love differ widely. I have
been privileged to meet teachers and writers exiled from Russia, as
well as presidents of large manufacturing concerns, and persons from
every walk of life. The most versatile and articulate presentation I
ever heard in answer to my presentation about the Lordship of Jesus,
was made by a manufacturer of men’s pants.
Once I
was invited to speak by the United Jewish Men of Saint Louis. I
appeared with a popular and respected rabbi, who presented
counter-arguments to my contention that Jesus was the Messiah. There
were 800 men present for the dinner and program which followed. The
thing which impressed me was the number of Jews who were humanists.
The rabbi was in almost as much trouble as myself. The question
period lasted an hour and he was attacked for his belief in the
existence of God about as severely as I was for urging that Jesus was
His Son.
The last
event of the year was the Saint Louis Forum. This had always been an
honest effort to discuss anything, regardless of how “sticky”
it was, without qualm. Any person could feel free to state anything
or to ask any question. In 1975 we stretched the program to the point
that we engaged in open discussion of moral questions and obligations
such as we had not discussed before. We had twice invited women to
appear as speakers in a survey of women’s rights and privileges
in the church. But this time we invited two men who were doctors to
frankly discuss the abortion issue; and two persons who were involved
in the political spectrum to talk about the Christian’s role in
modern politics. We asked them to’ address frankly the problem
of whether a Christian had the right to march in peace
demonstrations, or to use the power of organized revolt to overthrow
laws that were unjust.
Two
students of prophecy talked about modern Israel in the plan of God.
One of them felt that Jerusalem was destined to play a dramatic role
in the future dealings of God with the world; the other felt that
Jerusalem meant no more to God than Saint Louis or New York. This
made for a good question period. There were two more who spoke on the
subject of marriage and divorce especially as divorce and remarriage
applied to one who was chosen to serve as an elder. I made an
announcement of the forum in the paper but there was no coverage
given it because by the time it was held the Mission Messenger was no
more.
On
December 1, Nell had addressed and wrapped the final paper and I had
placed it in the proper bag according to the zip code. I loaded the
nine mail sacks in the car as I had been doing each month for
thirty-seven years and drove to the loading dock at the main post
office in Saint Louis. I am sure it must have come as a great relief
to Nell, and to Brother and Sister Ratliff, who had faithfully helped
us wrap them for months. Sister Ratliff continued to do so after she
had partially recovered from a paralytic stroke. I am not sure how we
would have made it without the ministrations of this faithful pair. I
said goodbye to the mail handlers on the dock and went into the
weighing office and bade farewell to the men who had helped me so
much. Only one was left who had been there when I started. I climbed
in the car and started for home with mixed emotions. More than a
third of a century lay behind me.
I could
not help but think of the changes I had made in those years. In my
next, and last article in this series, I hope to detail some of the
changes in my perception of the will of God which have occurred to
me. I have been attacked and abused for stating them. It appears that
we are often more comfortable with one who continues to wear the rags
and tatters of a disproven theology than with one who dons a new suit
provided by the Spirit of God. If one tells the truth about changes
to which he has been driven he becomes the victim of verbal assault;
if he lies or cavils or conceals his true feelings he becomes a
recognized, if uneasy, party hero.
In the
remainder of this space I want to thank all those who have helped us
in any manner. Many of you are still doing so. Your encouragement and
sharing are wonderful. I have often thought what I would say if I
were requested to name the five persons who have most affected my
life. I have reached the conclusion it would be impossible to answer.
Surely God has brought all of you into my life for an eternal
purpose. You have touched by life for good and I am forever grateful.
I have survived three wars, and even two world depressions. I have
lived to see numerous changes in”the higher powers” that
govern. Men have come, and men have gone, but I have continued with
unabated faith in Him “who puts down kings and raises them up.”
From one
who was an intolerant debater and defender of the party line I have
been delivered and made to see the earnest attempt to please God of
many who never heard of the Campbells. I have been led to see the
inherent good in the youth of our land and have been able to properly
appreciate the strength of middle age, and the wisdom and experience
of old age. I am thrilled that I was invited to share this
“Pilgrimage of Joy” with you, and since the journey is
not completed I trust that you will pray for me that it may be
finished as it began.