(OPINION) My exceedingly literate and energetic wife Liz is researching a book she plans to write about our community’s annual Court Day celebration.
While researching back issues of the Mt. Sterling (Ky.) Advocate online at the Library of Congress, she happened across these two tidbits in that newapaper’s May 19, 1891 edition.
The first item is a two-paragraph news brief:
“Elder J. G. Kendrick, (Christian) and Rev. J. W. Fitch (Methodist) both of Winchester, will engage in a debate at Morehead in the early future. The terms and date of the debate to be announced later.
“Elder J. S. Sweeny (Christian) and Rev. J. B. Moody (Baptist) begin a debate to-day at Oakdale, Fleming County.”
Then, elsewhere comes this anonymous, droll nugget from someone on the Advocate’s staff:
“The preachers seem to be resting a little in their warfare on the devil and in the interim have concluded to measure swords with each other. Brethren Sweeny and Moody are booked for a debate, so are Brethren Fitch and Kendrick, and now comes the news that Brethren J. W. McGarvey and Joseph Young will lock horns in the near future. Stick to your pulpits brethren and hunt for the points on which you agree, rather than point out how wide are your disagreements.”
That editorial comment gave me a smile, as I’ll bet it did some of the newspaper’s readers 133 years ago.
As we know, in the world of religion — as in the rest of the world — some things never change.
In late November, I wrote a column in which I mentioned a teaching video on joy by the evangelical minister Rob Bell, one of the best preachers I’ve ever heard.
I also mentioned that some years ago Bell ran afoul of other prominent preachers because they thought he’d wandered off into the supposed heresy of universalism, which is the idea that everybody goes to heaven, whether or not they’re Christians.
Because Bell’s answers to their accusations were vague, I felt that before alluding to him in a column I needed to figure out whether he actually was/is a universalist, in order describe his beliefs accurately. I watched various videos of Bell being grilled by — er, hammered by — er, questioned by — er … discussed by — his critics.
What struck me, though, was that Bell and his detractors actually agreed on just about everything. But the fact that they might (again, I was never clear) disagree on this one point was enough to send the theological purity police spinning into a tizzy.
There’s an old joke. If you’ve spent any time around Protestant churches of a certain bent, I know you’ve heard some version of it.
A man climbs over the railing of the Golden Gate Bridge and is about to jump when a passerby sees him. The passerby slams his car’s brakes, hops out and dashes to the jumper.
“Don’t do it!” he cries. “There’s so much to live for!”
“Like what?” the despondent guy asks.
“Friendship, for one,” the other man says, climbing over the rail to stand beside him. “Why, I’ll bet you and I have a lot in common. We could become friends. Do you go to church?”
“Yes. I’m a Baptist,” the jumper says.
“No, really? Me too! I’m a Baptist! Are you a Southern Baptist or an independent?”
“Independent.”
“Me too!” The rescuer gently pats the despondent fellow’s back. “Why, we’re practically brothers! Do you believe in the inerrancy of the Scriptures?”
“Yes,” the other guy says, brightening a bit.
“I do, too! I do, too! How about the rapture? Will Jesus rapture his church out of this world someday?”
“Of course, yes.” The forlorn man smiles now. “I believe that with all my heart.”
“Wonderful! Amazing! Are you a pre-tribulation-rapture man or a mid-tribulation-rapture man?”
“Mid-trib,” the fellow says.
“What!” The rescuer’s eyes bulge. “Die infidel!” And he shoves the other guy off the bridge.
Yeah, as I said, it’s a very old joke. But it has a point — which is not so different from the point the pithy Advocate scribe was making in 1891.
Whether we’re dealing with religion, politics, family dissension or cross-cultural travel, we generally have a lot more in common with other people than divides us.
Usually, if we focus on the commonalities, we begin to find the hand of God working among us. If we major on our differences, we not only help the devil, but may come to imagine the other person is the devil.
Paul Prather has been a rural Pentecostal pastor in Kentucky for more than 40 years. Also a journalist, he was The Lexington Herald-Leader’s staff religion writer in the 1990s, before leaving to devote his full time to the ministry. He now writes a regular column about faith and religion for the Herald-Leader, where this column first appeared. Prather’s written four books. You can email him at pratpd@yahoo.com.
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