From A Preacher's Note-Book
Services Dull?
Some members of the church find the services of the church dull and uninteresting. They attend only from a sense of duty and to escape eternal fire, but they derive no joy from religious service. Having come they interest themselves in their neighbors' clothes or children, and if the building is comfortably warm in the winter or air-conditioned in the summer, they enjoy a pleasant nap. People enjoy what they have been trained to appreciate. The musician enjoys a concert. The artist enjoys an art gallery. The sportsman revels in a hunting and fishing trip. The spiritually minded enjoy the services of the church. To the carnally minded they are a bore. Which facts remind us of the story of an underprivileged child from New York who was given a vacation in the country. The very first night there was a problem. The child refused to sleep in the guest room's cool, clean bed. Said she, between sobs, "I want to sleep in a regular bed — you know, full of people." (Story from American Mercury via Nuggets.) We can develop an appetite for the spiritual or the carnal. Which shall it be? (J.W.A.)
Reformation
The period following the "Renaissance" (the revival of learning) is known in secular history and in church history as "The Reformation" — sometimes called "The Protestant Reformation." Actually, these terms are misnomers. History does not record a single instance in which a spiritual institution was ever reformed. The so-called "Protestant Reformation" did not, as its names suggests, reform Catholicism. It resulted only in the beginning of a new protestant sect by each reformer in turn. Out of Luther's effort came the Lutheran denomination. Out of Calvin's work came the Presbyterian denomination.
John and Charles Wesley some years later attempted a "reformation" of the Church of England. The cold formalism of this denomination had become such as to practically destroy every vestige of the spirituality of its communicants. It was the desire of the Wesleys to restore, through reformation, evangelistic ferver and ardent piety to the Church of England. The Church of England was not reformed, and the Wesley movement resulted in the beginning of a new denomination, the Methodists.
Alexander and Thomas Campbell, John Smith. Walter Scott, Barton W. Stone, Abner Jones, James O'Kelley and others of the early nineteenth century set about, first, to reform their respective denominations through a restoration within those bodies of apostolic practice. They signally failed in each case. In order to accomplish their design, the restoration of apostolic practice and teaching, they were forced outside the borders of any existing sect or party. They found that "reformation" was not possible, and that their only recourse was to make a new beginning on the "foundation of the apostles and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stone." (Eph. 2:19.) Thus was born what is known as "The Restoration Movement of the Nineteenth Century."
Time passed and these professed restorers (some of them) departed from their lofty aim and revolutionary slogan; namely, "to speak where the Bible speaks and to remain silent where the Bible is silent" and "a complete restoration of apostolic teaching and practice." The mechanical instrument of music was introduced into the worship and centralized control and oversight of church work was introduced in the form of the missionary society. Many stalwarts opposed these innovations: Jacob Creath, Benjamin Franklin, Tolbert Fanning, David Lipscomb, and later in the Southwest such men as J. D. Tant, Joe S. Warlick, Foy E. Wallace Sr., A. McGary, Elijah Hansbrough, and in other sections W. W. Otey, M. C. Kurfees, the Srygleys and others. At the first, their effort was concentrated on an attempt to eradicate these innovations from the ranks of the disciples. In this, they signally failed as had all other reformers before them. The practical result was the beginning of new congregations dedicated to a "restoration of New Testament Christianity."
We come now to our day of prosperity among churches of Christ. Again the spirit of innovation threatens the peace and purity of the churches. It behooves all sound thinkers and earnest believers to recognize the truth that once the churches have set their feet on the road to apostasy, there is no turning back — spiritual institutions are never REFORMED. Let us, therefore, in these hours of decision and trial move with caution bred of the invariable experiences and results of past history. Let it likewise be observed by thinking Christians who desire to be loyal to apostolic teaching and practice that, in a church where the spirit of Innovation prevails, the faithful have no recourse except to a new beginning on right principles. (J.W.A.)
A Wish To Echo
In the Wall Street Journal Gordon H. Taggart expresses a wish many of us would gladly echo. "I wish," wrote he, "I were big enough to honestly admit all my shortcomings; brilliant enough to accept flattery without it making me arrogant; tall enough to tower above deceit; strong enough to treasure love; brave enough to welcome criticism: compassionate enough to understand human frailties; wise enough to recognize my mistakes; humble enough to appreciate greatness; staunch enough to stand by my friends: human enough to be thoughtful of my neighbor and righteous enough to be devoted to the love of God." (Nuggets, February 1960.)
"The Periphery"
Some of the reasoning of our "learned (?)" brethren these days in their efforts to justify modern innovations along with their rules of interpretation remind us of an item that appeared recently in Cheer, February 1960. It seems that a man told a crowd of people: "This morning I went over to see a new machine we've got at our place, and it's astonishing how it works," "And how does it work?" asked one of the crowd. "Well," was reply, "by means of a pedal attachment a fulcrum lever converts a vertical reciprocating motion into a circular movement. The principal part of the machine is a huge disc that revolves in a vertical plane. Power is applied through the axis of the disc, and work is done on the periphery, and the hardest steel by mere impact may be reduced to any shape." "What is this wonderful machine?" chorused the crowd. Then came the dramatic reply, "A grindstone."
When the Spiritual Sword was being circulated all over the country in congregations for the purpose of creating division in those congregations over current issues, a common remark was: "If I could understand the writings in that paper, I wouldn't need to have any help with the issues." Like human creeds which purport to explain the word of God and are harder to understand than the word of God, the "logic" (?) of these brethren was harder to understand than the issues which it purported to clarify and eradicate. No doubt this had much to do with its demise so young.
A book entitled "We Be Brethren" which professes to be the last word on Biblical interpretation, has recently emanated from the brain of one of our learned doctors. It is being widely circulated and hailed in many quarters as the answer to our problems. The writer of this book spends over a hundred pages with complicated diagrams to illustrate his position simply to say that "every passage of scripture must be understood and applied in the light of everything the word of God has to say on the subject." The teaching of the scriptures on the issues in question is far easier of comprehension than the learned treatise written for the purpose of explaining them. Let us hear more about the "grindstone" and less of the "periphery." (J.W.A.)
Life A Sermon
"Every life is a sermon. Our birth is the text from which we start. Youth is the introduction to the discourse. During our manhood we lay down a few propositions and prove them. Some of the passages are dull, and some are sprightly. Then come inferences and applications. At seventy years we say. `Fifthly and lastly'; The doxology is sung. The benediction is pronounced. The book is closed. It is getting cold. Frost on the window-pane. Audience gone. Shut up the church. Sexton goes home with the keg on his shoulder." — Talmadge.
We might take exception to some of Mr. Talmadge's denominational terminology, but not to the truth implicit in his observations. Life is indeed a sermon. Some are good; some had: some indifferent. All have their influence for good or ill. What kind of a sermon are you preaching? Some sermons are true to the Book, some are filled with error and distortions of divine truth. What about your sermon? Will it live in infamy, or will it live in glory? (J.W.A.)