MYTHS OF THE RESTORATION MOVEMENT (1)
W. Carl Ketcherside

I have learned a great deal about the art of meditation as I have grown older. One of the things that has been precious to me is the fact that the word meditate in the Hebrew means “chewing the cud.” The early Hebrews constituted an agrarian and pastoral society. As the herdsmen and shepherds sat close to their flocks as dusk began to descend, they saw them regurgitate what they had eaten, form it into a ball and chew it over and over to extract all of the nourishment from it.

The shepherds were aware that much the same process took place in their minds as they sought to digest the thoughts which they had learned from others or had ascertained from their own rationalizations. It was only natural that they would think of their ponderings and reflections as “Chewing the cud.” Certain animals are physical ruminants, man is a mental ruminant. I think it hardly unlikely that many will deny that, in our present culture, meditation is becoming a lost art. In the Middle Ages it was encouraged, and contemplative societies flourished. I am sure you’ll pardon me if I sound like a resurrected patriarch by pointing out the literature, poetry and songs of the long ago had a depth about them that many of our current productions cannot equal. I attribute this to the fact that they were written from the depths of the’ heart, whereas a lot of modern stuff is skimmed off the top of our heads, which have lost something since we discarded wearing hats.

But enough of this. I want to do a little series about some of the conclusions I have reached with reference to that illusory something we have come to call “the restoration movement.” I thought of labeling the articles “Milking Sacred Cows.” I decided against it, not so much because of those doing the milking as out of respect for the cows. God made cows, but they are not responsible for being made gods. The golden calf which Aaron made could not help it. It is ignorance, superstition and traditional disrespect for God and His revelation which make an otherwise innocent Hereford or Guernsey an object of worship. And it is generally a priestcraft that makes the switch.

I shall actually be writing about the myths of restoration. And I shall try not to “myth the point.” I had to put that in before some of my critics thought of it and claimed originality for it. The truth is, I will welcome criticism. I have had a lot of it, much from other editors who can scarcely be trusted to read aright what another editor writes. But I have outlived a lot of my critics and outloved a bunch of those that remain. I am no longer under heavy fire. The bombardment has ceased. That is a strange position for me to be in and I shall try to write in such a manner as “to smoke out a new set of critics from the bushes.”

That may be more difficult than it appears at first. I feel that a lot of those who entered the fray and shouted loudest at first, have concluded that I was right in a lot of what I was saying. They have chosen to retreat instead of to surrender. Obviously they cannot be expected to announce that they have been wrong all of their lives, like I did. They would lose their prestige. I didn’t have any to start with, so I couldn’t lose any. As a matter-of-fact I may have gained a little. I know that I certainly feel better and it took a heavy load off my shoulders to confess that I had been in error, and wasn’t as perfect in my thinking as I had always thought, and honestly led others to believe. I was not cut out for the role of playing God and gave it up.

A goodly number of folk have thought that I should not write about our myths. They feel that we have not yet cleared up all of those among our good Baptist, Methodist or Church of God friends, and there is no use of getting our folks all stirred up, when we could be writing about the errors of the Mormons or Mennonites which, incidentally, are not in the same class or category. The only thing they have in common is that both begin with “M.” But I am getting old and time is running out. I do not think I will be able to correct all the faults of the Baptists and Presbyterians. They have plenty of fault-finders of their own. Besides, it takes someone like me to write like this.

Young people cannot do it because they fall into two classes. Either they are naive and starry-eyed and think there’s nothing wrong with us, or they know so much that is amiss they have given up hope and jumped ship in midstream and gone down “unwept, unhonored and unsung.” Those who are middle-aged and in what is called “the prime of life” are too busy fighting other brethren over symptoms. They have no time to sit down and analyze the cause. They occupy their time tomahawking each other over cups, classes and colleges; or over societies, socials and saxphones, until they have never really stepped to one side and thought it through. And we either have to come apart a little way, or we will come apart altogether. I know because I was the respected sachem for our tribe, and if I do say so, I swung a pretty mean hatchet in those days.

I have concluded that you have to arrive at a point in life where those who may stone you do you a favor. Then you can say what you really think. You cannot be fired because you cannot be hired. No one can contract your sphere of influence because you are not under contract. It is a little like being not under law but under grace. That makes you free. And one of the things you are free from is fear of what men can do to you. When I was twenty-five and “breathing out threatenings and slaughter” against all who disagreed with me, I can see now that it was a cover for my inferiority. I suspect that I was afraid of my shadow. It is beautiful to arrive at the point where you are no longer afraid of the “valley of the shadow.”

One question I am frequently asked is what I propose to do with those who have died believing these myths about “the restoration movement”, if they turn out to be myths. I do not propose to do anything with them. I regard them, and I suspect God regards them, exactly as those who were mistaken about other movements like the reformation and the renaissance. I do not believe any of us will be judged on our relationship to any movement, but to Jesus Christ. One can believe in Christ and not be attached to any historical movement begun by men, just like he can be a member of any such movement and scarcely believe in Jesus at all. God adds him to the only thing he needs to be a member of.

We need, for our own sanity (and saintliness) to get over the idea that any of us will be saved by being right on things. We can be right about Jesus and wrong about a lot of things and still be saved. If we are wrong about Jesus we can be right about everything else and still be lost. Being ignorant is not a sin so long as it is involuntary. If it were none of us would stand a ghost of a chance. It is a part of the human predicament to which all of us are heirs. It is voluntary ignorance which is always a sin. One of the most outstanding blessings to come to us is that God made our hope dependent upon faith in a person rather than in knowledge of a list of things.

If the latter had been the case we could never be sure if we were saved. We could never be certain that we were correct about enough things, or about the right ones, to make it to glory. We might be right about nine things and wrong or ignorant about a tenth and have the pearly gate slammed shut in our faces. It isn’t that way, praise God. “If anyone imagines that he knows something, he does not yet know as he ought to know. But if one loves God, one is known by him” (1 Corinthians 8:3). Because of their position on baptism, members of the Church of Christ have always said, “It is easier to get into heaven than into the Baptist Church.” They need to be careful lest it be said “Because of their legalism it is easier to get into heaven than into the Church of Christ.”