Biographical Sketch
Of
W. J. Berry, Sr.
(Editor of Old Faith Contender)
By His Companion
M. Macena Berry
Elder Harold Hunt
P O Box 5352
Maryville TN 37802
INTRODUCTION
After the death of my beloved husband, I thought I would attempt to write a brief biographical sketch of his wonderful life. My thought then was to write merely for his family. But I felt a great hesitancy to begin the task, as it made necessary the re-living many experiences through which his ministry had brought him; for his struggles, disappointments, and heartaches were mine also.
I told myself that I would make the attempt sometime when, I hoped, the sorrow of his loss might be somewhat lessened, and when I might be able to recall memories with less emotion.
In addition there was an actual dread to begin the task of describing such a character as he was. For, though I had suffered with him, and had really tried to do all possible to help bear his burdens, I could not enter fully into the depths of the trials of a man of God. I had shared his burdens as well as his joys, but now I can realize more fully, the impossibility of sharing, to the extent I wanted to, the burdens of a godly ministry.
The hesitancy to begin the final service of love to him was due also to an overwhelming sense of my inadequacy to do it justice. In this hesitancy, I found myself, unconsciously, finding one and another duty claiming my time. And in the performance of each of two of these tasks, my right arm, then the right hand, were completely disabled for several weeks. I could not help but wonder if my reluctance to undertake the sorrowful but loving task was not displeasing to my dear Lord.
In addition to this feeling, many of our dear friends and brethren and sisters in Christ were urging me to write a sketch of his life. One dear brother, looking intently into my face, said very seriously, You owe it to him, Sister Berry.
If I should begin to consider the enormity of my indebtedness to him, how could I ever pay it? Nearly fifty-eight years he loved me tenderly. He nursed through many illnesses very lovingly and tenderly when yet a very young man. There are no words which I can speak or write now that can possibly discharge this enormous obligation He certainly is due the very best efforts of one who knew him as no one else could know him, to tell of a little of his faithful service to God and to His children in this world.
I feel also an indebtedness to the people of God for whom he spent his life’s labors. So many of them loved him, helping to support his labors, praying for him. Many of them loved, and were faithful to him for an entire lifetime. Hundreds of these have communicated their sorrow and their great sense of loss to me. Their love and prayers have helped to sustain me through life’s greatest sorrow. And for them, as well as for our dear family, I now begin the brief story of the life of a precious, blessed character. That these words may have a wider reading than originally thought, places a greater responsibility upon me. There is need for a more deeply-taught, abler pen than mine. My desire is to be faithful to him in each word, and also I would not displease our dear Lord by praising man to an excess. I can say truly, his service was given out of love to his God, and for His dear people in this world. It was given freely, unselfishly, and to the very limit of his strength and ability.
He himself would be greatly displeased if I should unduly eulogize him. He was always rather embarrassed when I would say something in his praise, reminding me that he was only a poor sinful man.
He was remarkable for his humility, as will be seen as I attempt to delineate some of the events of his life, and as many others may testify. Even now I can imagine him looking over my shoulder, telling me that, if I must write of his life, I should describe warts and all.
To attempt to speak of any weakness-or anything I might consider to be a weakness, or awart, however, seems presumptuous. I considered him superior to me in many ways. He was my precious husband, my leader, my teacher, and my pastor, and dear brother in our one Lord through all the years we were together. He taught me so much And it is almost with trembling pen that I attempt to describe, when it seems necessary to be faithful, what, in my poor understanding, might be a weakness.
This, then, is the brief story of the life of Winford Jennings Berry, Sr., minister of God, by one who loved him dearly, his unworthy companion in life,
A Brief Biographical Sketch of
Winford Jennings Berry, Sr.
By his companion, Mabel Berry
It is a matter of regret that I do not have much information on my dear husband’s ancestry. The earliest information available to me, finds his ancestors in Alabama.
His great grandfather was Elijah Berry, an Old School Baptist minister. I find record of only four children. There may have been more. There were: George (his grandfather), David, John, and James. John was also an Old School Baptist minister. David and James, (his beloved Uncle Jim), were deacons in the same faith.
His grandfather was born in Alabama about 1853, or 1854, and moved to Texas in 1878.
In Deacon David Berry’s obituary, which was published in the Signs of the Times early in this century, written by Elder John R. Havens, who also conducted his funeral, he said, Brother Berry stood for what he believed to be right in the church. He was useful in his church and worked for the betterment of the general public. The writer had been intimately associated with this dear brother for many years, and I can truthfully say that he was a good man in all his affairs.
When we were younger, my husband had a pleasant correspondence with Elder George Berry, (the same name as his grandfather) of Fayette, Alabama. We did not then even attempt to learn if there was a relationship, but I feel surely they were from the same family background. Elder John L. Sanders of Tuscaloosa, Alabama has told us that he knew and loved him as his pastor at one time, and cherished his memory. In a letter in 1983, Elder Sanders said of him: I had the sweet privilege of being in his home, and he in mine. I had sweet fellowship with several of the Berry family in that area. I wish that we had learned more about their family when Elder Berry was living and no doubt could have told us, but being younger, and much occupied, it did not have the importance to as it would now have.
Elder John Berry, (Winford’s great uncle) died at the Old Soldier’s Home in Austin, Texas in 1920. No doubt he was a veteran of the Civil War.
Grandfather George Berry was married to Hattie A. (I do not have her maiden name), of Huntsville, Alabama. She was probably born about 1854, before the Civil War. I can arrive at approximate dates from the ages of her children. She had ten children, five dying in infancy. John, Winford’s father, was her oldest child.
She often told me of the hardships and trials of the southern states following the war, which, she, a young woman at the time, remembered well.
George and Hattie were of the Old School Baptist faith, he having been reared in an Old Baptist home. She was brought up in the Methodist faith, and later she also became of the Old School Baptist faith. Both were firm believers in the sovereignty of God, and salvation by grace alone.
Sometime following their marriage they moved from Alabama to Texas, where their children were born, the oldest, John Franklin, being born about 1874.
When John grew to fine young manhood, he met and married Lucy (Holmsley) Bishop Reynolds. She had been twice married, having a son by each marriage when she and John were married. She was an attractive, vivacious woman, and no doubt captivated his young heart. His love for her was great, and when a few years later the marriage was ended, he was almost crushed. He left Texas and went to California in an attempt to forget her and begin a new life. Her manner of life had brought sorrow to her godly family. It had been an unfortunate union for young John.
But God moves in mysterious ways which is often hard for us to understand. For my beloved husband was to be born of this union. Surely, this outcome of the marriage was not unfortunate But we see often that God brings good from conditions which we cannot see as good.
So we thank Him that on October 10, 1908, Winford Jennings Berry was born to John and Lucy at Coleman, Texas.
A Minister Is Born
I can never doubt my husband’s ministerial calling to be of God. He was early preparing him for a life of service. There could no natural explanation for spiritual exercises in one so young; and that in circumstances under which he lived.
In the providence of God, he was to be delivered from bad influence of his poor mother’s manner of life by her own actions. Because of her lack of love for her little son, and because he was actually a hindrance to her manner of life, she placed him on the train alone, to go to his father in California. He was a kind man, and had not wanted to take their little son from her.
Naturally his little-boy heart was happy to be going to his Daddy, and he was thrilled to be going on the train alone at seven years of age. As I have thought of this episode in his life, my heart has broken a little. I could imagine him on that train. He was a bright, out-going little boy. He would be telling everyone, I’m going to see my Daddy He’s in California No doubt he thought he was going only for a visit. Perhaps this had been implied so that he would leave his mother willingly. But there were times when a certain unhappiness over-shadowed him. There was a vague knowledge that his mother did not want him. He somehow felt that he was being sent from her because he had been a bad boy
This early rejection of the sensitive little boy was to affect his life increasingly. It would become more painful as the years passed.
As his mother made no subsequent effort to see him, he grew up hardly knowing her. But as an example of his love and loyalty to the mother he loved, he tried to deny to himself her rejection. He has told me that he often fought with his little cousins as they would taunt him: Your mother’s no good She don’t want you and such cruel things. He would run at them, little arms flailing, My mother is good too She’s coming to take me home one of these days Their parents no doubt talked of her, not thinking of how much a poor little boy could be hurt by the cruel words of other children.
His father was a good-natured, cheerful man, and he loved his little son very much, and did the best he could to care for him. He was a day laborer, a carpenter, and often must follow employment wherever it could be found over the state. This often made it necessary for the young boy to board with some family. He was careful to place him with good, Christian people. When this was necessary, the little fellow was lonely, longing for his dad’s return. Sometimes, he said he would daydream of Mother coming to take him in her arms. When he saw other s mother’s affection for their children, it increased his sense of loss. Just maybe, he would think, she would come and live with Daddy again. The he could have a home like other little boys
Despite these periods of sadness and loneliness, however, he was usually comparatively content. He found many things to enjoy. But there were times, he has told me, when he felt that he did not belong to anyone, nor anywhere. In these periods of sadness, however, he found solace in thinking of God, with a certain love and reverence. This was strange, as he had had no word of God spoken by his mother and her friends, and his father was not for years, a religious man. He has said that as he would look into the beautiful blue sky, he felt awed by the greatness of God. He felt that He was holy and wise and had all power, even at that age. He said his feelings of God’s holiness and greatness had not changed from that early time in his life.
Regularly he prayed to God, confessing his boyish sins. We can see that the Lord was then preparing him for service in His kingdom. When the Lord would prepare one for a life of service, He often removes him from all dependence upon any but Himself. This pathetic life taught him early in life where his dependence must be. In this preparation for the ministry of a life of selfless service, his lonely circumstances acted as the Lord’s Seminary.
The early rejection of his mother, and as he grew old enough to better understand that her manner of life separated him from her, created in him feeling of deep inferiority. This characterized him all his life to an exaggerated extent. This sometimes created problems for him in his relations with those he loved. However, we can see that it was, no doubt, God’s way of developing the deep humility, which characterized him all his life. He was the most humble person I have ever known. And this early rejection was no doubt useful in developing his unusual degree of humility. We usually want our children to have a good self-image, but perhaps God did not want him, for the work he was to do, to have a too-high self-esteem. We can be very short-sighted in spiritual things
So, though we might deplore the sad facts of his early life, feeling unhappy because of his sense of inferiority, it was, in the providence of God, to develop the humble minister which his heavenly Father was making of him. Still it always made me sad when in his times of discouragement and despondency that he felt such a magnified sense of inferiority. For he was, by God’s grace, one of this world’s best men.
As he grew to manhood, he felt a certain shame as he knew of his mother’s manner of life. This at times brought him to near-despair and great mental anguish. But after we were married, and he knew the love I had for him, he overcame these painful times to an extent. But as he grew older, and with a severe case of diabetes, which tends to despondency, it would again become a problem to him and to those he loved, when his own sense of inferiority, would tend to cause him to feel unworthy of the love he so much needed.
He was so very grateful for his own home, and he often told me that he was really happy for the first time in his life. He belonged to someone And for the first time in his life he had a home
In addition to attempting to overcome this early sense of rejection, his type of ministry was one that sometimes created enmity. For his burden was a searching ministry, pointing out errors and evil practices, admonishing and reproving any evils he might detect. When this happened, it caused him to deeply question whether his calling had been indeed of God. When there seemed to be evidence of rejection of those whose spiritual welfare he sought, it had a serious effect upon his tender, loving disposition. He was kind and emphathetic in his reproofs, and he needed to feel that he had the love and confidence of those whose spiritual welfare he had very much at heart. This sometimes deepened his feelings of inferiority. So many times he expressed to me the possibility that he had run without being sent
But back to his earlier life. In writing of his boyhood when he lived in various homes, he has written:
The lady of the house where I was staying while I attended school, had surgery from which she did not recover. The pastor’s mother came to keep the house, and thus I became closely associated with the pastor and his family. I became active in church work in Sunday School. I painted a coffee can in which to diligently save my pennies for the church. But I became much concerned over my condition before God, and prayed nightly for myself, and for, my parents. No doubt I was considered to be a good boy.
At the age of eleven years I was baptized without making a profession in Christ, or of knowing what I was doing. While there, I came under the observation of a traveling evangelist. Having learned of my life, and knowing that my father was a poor man, he made the proposition to Dad that he would pay for my education, and prepare me to be an evangelist. Of course Dad did not consent. Amusingly I have said that if I had wanted to make money preaching, I had missed the opportunity
The pastor soon received an offer of a higher salary from a larger church and moved away. This made it necessary for a change for me. As young as I was, I was disappointed in the man whom I had considered to be my pastor. I could not, even then, understand how he could leave his church for financial gain.
Soon after this, Dad and I went to stay with Grandfather and Grandmother. This was the first home I had known with my own people. Though Grandfather did not attempt to teach me religiously, my association with him was most happy. His godly conversation was a savor to me. He read his Bible and some old copies of the Signs of the Times until they were literally worn so as to be hardly readable in places. Through the ages between thirteen and fifteen (when Grandfather died), I went through some peculiar experiences of life. What I experienced enabled me to understand others today who have soul exercises, and yet be able to engage in the normal affairs of life. I enjoyed my school life, and work on the farm with Dad was enjoyable to me. I entertained the usual ambitions of life, yet almost daily I was burdened by a sense of sin, and had a great fear of displeasing God. When I did anything which I felt to be wrong, I begged God to forgive me, with the promise that I would not repeat the offence. But alas, I not only repeated the wrong, but found myself repeating the same prayer and the same promise, until I felt so ashamed before God whom I felt was surely disgusted with me.
With the passing of Grandfather, I experienced the first death in the family. He suffered much in his last hours, and would cry out almost constantly, Have mercy on me, Thou Son of David This impressed me deeply and seemed to bring to my mind the closeness of God to poor mortals. His death also brought to a close my only brief experience of home with my folks. It was now necessary that Grandmother go to other children, and my father and I soon moved to southern California.
I had been finding great comfort in reading Grandfather’s old copies of the Signs of the Times, and was seeking relief from any source I could. On one occasion, I attended a so-called Holiness meeting, greatly burdened. I went to what they called the altar; and while there on my knees, one lady asked me if I had received the Holy Ghost and gotten the victory. I told her I had not, and she pounded on my back, saying I was just stubborn Needless to say, I left the place without relief.
On another occasion, while attending a revival meeting, I went down the aisle again. A strange thing occurred with me. It seemed that some Power threw me to the floor, and I cried in a loud voice, `Let God be true and every man a liar.’ Later in the meeting I was asked to testify, and I quoted the Scripture, By grace ye are saved, and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God. I believed this, but I could see that the preacher was not pleased.
Then attending another church (not yet knowing of the Old School Baptists), not knowing where to go for help in my desperate trouble, one Sunday I took a copy of the Signs of the Times with me which contained an experience I had found to be comforting to me. I asked permission to read it to the class, and the teacher rather indifferently gave permission for me to read it. I did not know that I was casting pearls before swine. The boys and girls began to snicker. I could see that the gospel was neither preached nor wanted in that place and a strange desire came over me to preach the gospel. I finished reading the experience, however, but felt that I was in the wrong place and went there no more.
At this time he was about sixteen years old.
After he moved with his father to southern California, he entered Venice Polytechnic High School. He did excellent work there and had good instructors. Of one of these he said, He told us to do right, because it is right
Recently I came across some of his work which he had done there when he was seventeen years old, and I was amazed at the intricacy and perfection of his drawings.
After his schooling at VPHS, he began working at a small aircraft plant on the coast. Later, when I met him, he was working with Douglas Aircraft Company at Cloverfield, in Santa Monica, doing sheet metal design, and later in drafting and blueprint work in the engineering department.
All this while, and after we were married, he continued his education. We attended classes together at night at Santa Monica Junior College for two years. He later took courses at UCLA to earn his teaching credentials.
At the time of our marriage in 1928, he was providing a home for his father and grandmother. Grandmother had fallen and broken her hip, and having no one to care for her, my mother, always available to the sick and suffering, took her to our home. There she received excellent care until my folks were planning to return to the east. So Winford and I took her to our home the day after our wedding. There we cared for her for eight years.
Now, at twenty years of age, he had the responsibility of a wife, Grandmother, and mostly of his father. The great depression was now over the country and his Dad could find only occasional employment, and he did not manage his finances well, so that he often needed his son’s assistance.
Grandmother was a bed patient the first year of our marriage, and her medical expenses were borne by her grandson. With regret I must say that her four sons and one daughter contributed nothing to her needs or to her care. All of this he bore patiently, and the dear Lord blessed us with all necessities.
He was faithfully applying his best efforts to his work, and steadily advanced in responsibility and salary.
Our first son was born in 1929, adding yet more to his responsibility, and with the coming of the infant, my health became very frail and was so for about twelve years until surgery partially corrected the problems. So, in addition to his already heavy burdens, his young wife was almost constantly in need of medical care. I often wept for him, being so young with so many responsibilities. But never once did he complain, often repeating, The Lord will provide And that He certainly did, not always what one might want naturally, but all that was necessary was certainly provided.
In addition to these natural burdens, he began to be burdened for the ministry. His exercises were deep, and often I heard him groan on his bed.
Before our marriage he had told me that he could not promise me anything except hardship and possibly deprivation, for he was impressed that he would have to serve the Lord in some capacity-he knew not what. He seemed to feel that he would have about two years before this should begin. Those two years were soon passed, and he began to feel he must be about his Father’s business.
At age seventeen, he had been graciously delivered from the bondage of sin and condemnation. He has told me, and others, that as he lay on his bed in anguished prayer, his bed actually shook with the intensity of his prayers. Then, suddenly Christ appeared to his view, hanging on the cross with the blood running down over His body. This broke his heart, as he wept a torrent of tears. But then he was given the blessed assurance that His blood had covered his sins In all the years of his ministry, this was his sweetest theme, and his most heartfelt message, the atonement of Christ. He was often blessed when he was given liberty to speak on the blood and sacrifice of his precious Savior.
Parenthetically, one of his last sermons, preached from his chair, and in a very weak voice, was: We have an altar. The Jewish altar had been done away; now we, the Gentile believers, have an altar. He spoke of the need for that altar-because of SIN; the price of that altar-the life blood of the Son of God; how we should love and praise Him; how we should walk worthy of such a loving, costly Sacrifice, etc.
From his deliverance at seventeen until about twenty-two, he had some respite from his burden of the ministry. But at. this time it seemed that he must try to tell of the mighty works of God to His little children. He was not yet a member of the Old School Baptist Church, but a group was meeting twice a month in our home, with various ministers speaking for us. There was not a church of our faith in the area at that time.
He was corresponding with Eld. G. O. Walker in Oregon. The result of their correspondence was that he came to California and gathered a few brethren and sisters together, and constituted Seclusia Church in our home, with fourteen members. Elder G. O. Walker was our pastor from that time until he died in 1939. Then Elder W. L. Slusher was pastor as long as were in California.
In addition to his burden to preach the gospel by word, he began to feel that he must also begin a publication ministry. It was his burden to publish a periodical devoted to the cause of his Lord and to His people, majoring on contending for the faith once delivered to the saints.
Consequently, in Jan., 1932, he began the publication of a monthly magazine called Sovereign Grace. After publishing for less than a year, Elder H. F. Hutchens of North Carolina, editor of The Lone Pilgrim, wrote, telling him that he would have to discontinue publication of that paper. He proposed that Winford should take over his mailing list, and send the Sovereign Grace to his subsribers. This Winford did after prayerful consideration. So that The Lone Pilgrim would not entirely cease to exist, he combined the names, Sovereign Grace & Pilgrim. This, of course greatly increased the financial burden, much of which must be supplied from his income.
His hope was to eventually establish a printing plant, but many hardships and trials lay between then and the realization of his hopes.
He was at that time in contact with several printers, as he was having his work done by commercial printers. Consequently, the editor of a small town newspaper in Pacific Palisades, California approached him with the thought of publishing the newspaper. The founder, and original owner had offered to finance a small printing plant so that their paper could be printed in town. This seemed to be an answer to prayer. But Satan seemed for a time to take over.
After the plant had been established and the printing of the newspaper being done, work began on the Old Faith Contender. The contract had been that after their paper was delivered, the remainder of the time was to be spent on our own work, or commercial work to provide a sufficient income.
One night this man came into the office when the Old Faith Contender was on the press, their paper having been previously delivered. He picked up one of the sheets, and growing very angry, said, You’re not using MY money to publish such `tripe’ as this
In 1936 Winford had, in addition to the Sovereign Grace and Pilgrim begun the publication of the Old Faith Contender. The first was to deal more with experimental material, while the Old Faith Contender was to publish doctrinal articles, sermons, etc.
It would require a book to recount the story of this man’s wickedness, but this is not the place to tell of it. Sufficient it is to say that ultimately we gave up the venture. This of course meant that we had no income. He had given up a good position to enter into the arrangement. It was at a time when opportunities for employment were not plentiful. But miraculously we did not experience real want.
It was during this time of severe financial stress that Seclusia called for his ordination to the ministry. For this purpose they met late in 1939. Elders G. O. Walker and W. L. Slusher officiated the meeting, and he was given liberty to preach anywhere God in His providence should call him.
During this time also, he completed his work at UCLA, preparing himself for the teaching profession. After the completion of this work, he was called to teach at Pasadena Junior College in Pasadena. He also conducted classes at California Institute of Technology (Cal-Tech) in Pasadena.
This made it necessary that we rent our newly-built home in Pacific Palisades and move nearer his work. We found a cozy home, set back from the highway, in the beautiful Virdugo Hills section, an acre and a half. Our little city dudes called it our ranch, and they were very happy there.
At that time life was less demanding for him than it had been before. He was earning a good salary without great stress. He must continue to subsidize the Old Faith Contender, but this was not as great a burden as it had been. We were happy in our little church, and it seemed that things were most pleasant at that time.
Then, like a bolt out of the blue, his health began to rapidly fail. He lost weight alarmingly, and after work with his classes, it was necessary that he retire the rest of the day. He grew rapidly weaker each day. It was evident that he could not long continue to work, so rapid was his decline. His doctor soon discovered that he was suffering from a very severe case of diabetes. He told me that Winford could never be really well, and due to the severity of the onset of the disease, he had a life expectancy of twenty years. This I never told him, and we found the doctor’s prediction untrue, for he lived nearly forty-five years after this. But we soon were able, with heavy insulin injections, to control it, and with great care and many restrictions he spent many busy years and accomplished more than many able-bodied men. He never thought of himself as being a sick man, and worked long hard hours, entirely selfforgetful. This gave his family much anxiety, as we knew he was working beyond his ability many times. But, as one good doctor told me, it could be the lesser of two evils, as his activity would prevent the premature crystallization of the arteries, which is usual for severe diabetics.
Quoting from his account of his exercises at this time, he said in part:
I had been favored with good health, and had just passed the very extensive health test required to become a member of the school system of Los Angeles County. The result had been that I was found to be one hundred percent physically fit. Then I began to lose weight rapidly, and, speaking after the manner of men, I could not have survived many days, but for the merciful provision of insulin. My burdens and responsibilities had not changed, but I found that my habits must be greatly changed….
Perhaps we should not speak of an affliction as a ‘thorn in the flesh.’ However, if we consider Job, we learn that it was Satan who afflicted him with sore boils….
To me, the sorest part of this affliction was the realization that my daily work would need to be more closely regulated than before. But like many before me in similar circumstances, I must labor for my family, and for the sustenance of life, while attempting also to seek the things of the kingdom, which to me was of far greater importance than even food and raiment. I had to learn that after a day of toil for food and raiment, the spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.
I had read the experiences of many of the Lord’s servants, how they labored and struggled for a livelihood while they tried to preach the Word and to serve God’s people. And so I wondered how it was, and how it should be. We know there is neglect of the ministry, and many must toil with little help from those they serve, trying to feed the flock of God. This is displeasing to God. It is equally displeasing to Him for a minister to be a hireling. I had both opportunities, as to my own choice-not considering divine providence, which decreed the path I should tread. The hireling’s gate was opened to me. I must, of course, be first schooled in the wisdom of men. I must learn the methods of conducting great revivals and church gatherings. I must become polished and winsome. I should learn to be a good mixer. The problem would have been just another mixer when the need is for separaters
A merciful providence led me in another direction. I was thankful to be called in the path of service instead of being served, or to be enriched by a large salary. But now this affliction. How could I continue to spend and be spent? How could I continue to perform the work of two persons? How could I provide for my family and still do the things for which my soul hungered? What soul conflict 0 Lord, is it now evident that You have not called me to labor in Your vineyard? It is plain that I cannot now do both. And I read in Thy word that he that provides not for his own household is worse than an infidel. Therefore I must do that, and how can I do more with this weakened body? These are some of the thoughts that began to run through my mind, and have continued to this day.
Truly it was a time of distress for both of us. His kind, sympathetic doctor told me what I never told him, that at age thirty-three, his life expectancy was twenty years. with good control. His condition, without careful control could mean that he was only a half dozen days from death at any time. I was to find this to be true thirteen years later. While traveling across country, he was having meetings as we went, and finding it hard to properly care for himself, and he became out of control, quickly developing acidosis, and lapsed into a coma. He must be taken into emergency at Hendricks Memorial Hospital in Abilene, Texas. The good doctor who attended him, gave me little hope of his recovery that night. Another man, in the same condition that night at that hospital, did not recover. But the dear Lord was not ready for his ministry to come to a close, and almost miraculously he recovered. Again I could see God’s blessings upon him, his family and God’s little ones, to whom he must yet minister.
At the time he was stricken, I must, with shame, confess that I was not reconciled. And I learned that no trial can be so bitter as not being reconciled to it. I remained in this hard, bitter condition for several days. Time came for our meeting, and dear ones from a distance were spending the week-end with us. Our pastor was present, and after the evening meal, we began to sing a few hymns. Someone selected How firm a Foundation, and I felt irritable.We sing that so often, I complained to myself. But I began to try to help with the singing. When we came to the words:
In every condition, in sickness, in health,
In poverty’s vale, or abounding in wealth,
At home, or abroad, on land or on sea,
As thy days may demand, shall thy strength ever be.
When through the deep waters I call thee to go,
The rivers of woe shall not thee overflow;
For I will be with thee, thy troubles to bless,
And sanctify to thee thy deepest distress.
I could not sing the words, but whispered the precious promises with trembling lips and through flowing tears. The ice in my heart was melted, and I could again feel the presence of my precious Lord, and kiss the gracious hand that chastened me.
Truly, He has sanctified every distress In His wisdom, He does not allow us to see into the future. Mercifully He draws the curtain upon future trials, which, weak as we are, would cause our hearts to faint.
My dear one spoke of his exercises of his affliction, of not then being able to work as formerly. But amazingly he did. He was completely self-forgetful, not considering his limitations, not actually admitting to himself that he had any health problem. His zeal for his Lord’s service, in addition to his deeply-felt need to provide for his family, were his concern. If by some plans not being successful we were brought into hardship, he would blame himself severely. He labored long day-time hours in his publication work, then often at his desk working on Editorial work, or correspondence until midnight or at times into the wee hours of morning.
A Change of Surroundings
In March of 1942, my dear father died suddenly in West Virginia. Following his death, we came east to take Mother to be with us in California. We had not the least thought of ever leaving California. We were, it seemed to us, ideally situated. His work was pleasant, and his salary adequate. He still must subsidize the Old Faith Contender from his own income, but it was not the struggle it had been. But while we were in the east , several of the brethren encouraged him to move the paper to the southeast. It did seem to make sense, as the greater portion of the subscribers were in the southeastern states. We discussed it often during that year, and earnestly prayed for the Lord’s leading. We were both finally convinced by several occurrences that it was God’s will that we make the change. But oh, the heart-rendings we felt The day we left our little church for the last time, as one sister said, was like a funeral. It was truly a heart-breaking day. Everyone present wept aloud. Our dear old pastor held us in his embrace weeping. We were never to see his dear face again, though several of the other members have visited us from time to time. Now, not all who attended there are gone, but all the members are with their dear Lord. We were the children and the only ones of the original membership left -That is at this time, since our dear one has gone, I am alone left to remember those precious early years of Seclusia Church.
In July 1944, we arrived in North Carolina. At that time he was thirty-six years old. We were lovingly taken to the hearts of many of God’s dear saints. At that time there were many of God’s dear soldiers of the cross, who have. since been called home, and not many of their stature to replace them.
His ministry was generally well received, and he traveled extensively attending many churches and associations. There had been divisions in the past, but at that time there was good fellowship among the churches and associations. We felt we were greatly blessed to meet many of God’s people.
But Satan, as is his character, was walking up and down, seeking whom he could devour. And one could see the evidence of his evil work beginning to take root. We cannot point a finger at any person and call him a wolf, but we know that where God’s sheep are scattered, there is a wolf around somewhere.
Years before we came to North Carolina there had been a rather wide-spread division among the churches and associations. However, the church of our former membership had no part in it, and knew very little about it. And it had not seemed to involve the few Old School Baptists who were, at that time, in the western states. So we had in no way been affected by the division.
The division had been between those who maintained the doctrine long believed and preached by the Old School Baptists: The absolute sovereignty of God, and His control over all events, large or small; that no event could occur outside of His divine decrees; that salvation is by the grace of God alone, for both time and eternity. The opposing group believed that eternal salvation is by grace alone, but we are responsible for our time salvation. By our good works we obligate God to bless us. To the contrary, the believers in God’s control over all things and events believe good works to be the effect rather than the cause of God’s blessings.
The division had been a sad thing, for the final separation left many families divided and sweet fellowship severed. In many cases, they did not even know why they should be thus separated. No division is good. All truth is not on one side or the other-And there is wrong on each side.
This sad division, however, was in the past, and there was good fellowship among the churches and associations. But there were a few men who began to revive the old coals, and to nourish the shreds of the old division. These men perverted the precious doctrine of God’s sovereign control over all things to the extent that it removed the guilt of sin, no matter how shameful it might be. They preached in such a manner as to encourage licentiousness, and an ungodly life, which, sad to say was apparent in some cases. There were those in Paul’s day who would have declared such doctrine, to which Paul uttered his vehement God forbid
With this in the background, we can see that when one was burdened to preach a doctrine according to godliness, as my husband and others were, it would incur the enmity of those who perverted the doctrine of God’s sovereign decrees to the ridiculous extreme that it led to licentiousness. These men condemned the very use of the words, admonish, and exhortation. Thus they would disqualify the apostles Paul, James and others for their admonishing to good works. Of course such men opposed my dear one because he often was given to admonish us to walk worthy of the calling of the Lord. His was a balanced doctrine, of God’s absolute sovereignty and man’s responsibility. And so these men often made the pulpit a warring forum for carnal strife.
Like a fire beginning in one spot rapidly spread to a great conflagration, so these men spread the dissension wherever they went. They brought their carnal battle into the associations, and once a matter is taken notice of by an association, and the association takes sides in the matter, the expression spread like wild fire, describes the condition.
Ultimately the confusion resulted in yet another sad division, -and another, and another-, so that little fellowship now remains among the churches.
As we traveled among the churches and associations my dear one, seeing these evils, grew increasingly heavy-hearted. The things he saw brought to light a great evil. That is, association rule over the churches. He could see how a few men, promoting false doctrine, and by the use of the associational system, could destroy the peace among God’s people. Associations were begun by godly men with pure intentions, to encourage fellowship among the churches. They came together for the purpose of worshipping God. But in time, by the influence of self-promoting men they became a higher court over the churches. Grievances were taken to an unscriptural organization, which wrongfully assumed that position. The church, the highest ecclesiastical authority, was now being usurped by a creature of its own formation. Thus, though begun to promote fellowship, they were used to destroy fellowship by the many non-fellowship resolutions. As my husband saw the havoc this was working, he constantly warned, by tongue and pen, against a system that would eventually destroy the peace. This has now about been accomplished. It was his burden, to which he remained faithful, to call us back to the heritage , of which there were many who boasted. But as they were warned of their departures, they verily thought he was preaching some new doctrine. There had been such a departure that the heritage of which they boasted seemed new to them He wrote several able editorials in the Old Faith Contender, warning of these errors. One of these was The Chain Business, in which he described how any problem that was taken to an association, as they are now operated, was like an evil chain. It could carry a small disturbance in some little remote church into wide-spread areas where it should not have gone, and among brethren who knew nothing of the local problem.
Another was The Churches in Bondage, which showed how the churches are forced to submit to the rule of an association on pain of being cut off, in a matter that concerned only that church.
Another Editorial was, We have Destroyed Ourselves. Its title tells the story. And then his Whole Estate. I do not believe there could be written an article as brief as this, which could more fully describe his feelings, and his sadness over the conditions he had seen; nor could the sad condition be more fully described. He, with heart-felt yearning, could see how we should live with our dear brethren and sisters in the Lord. Of course, there were some who misunderstood his faithful warnings. This was another cause for enmity in some. He was often sad when being misunderstood, for he desired the love of his brethren. He often said sadly, Not one man has ever come to me, and in love, attempted to show me where I might be wrong. He was amenable to his brethren, and was willing at all times to be corrected, if it could be done by the word of God. But he was often consoled, when he knew of anyone’s enmity, by feeling that he had only tried to be faithful to his burden which God had placed upon him. There are now many who understand better the burden of his warnings. Several dear brethren and sisters have communicated this to me. And we see a growing desire to restore the peace which has been destroyed by an over-lording system. This would be an encouragement to him, if he were still struggling here. But his faithful labors have ceased, and his dear heart is no longer saddened by fleshly strife.
The good effect of a true and faithful minister of God cannot be minimized.
The Primitive Baptist Publishing House
Shortly after coming east, he bought an old school house. It had been Gilliam’s Academy, when there were no free high schools in the area. When these became available there was no longer need for the Academy, and so the school had been abandoned. When he bought it, it had been partially converted to a dwelling house. Little had been done however, to make the needed changes for a convenient and comfortable home. It was merely a large frame building without conveniences. It needed to be completely converted to a home and much improvement and changes were necessary. He began the modernization, which, after his publication duties, required years of his labor. In his leisure (?) hours, he finally turned it into a comfortable, convenient, and attractive home. It has been a gathering place for the dear children of God. We have been richly blessed by visits of dear ones from many states, for an hour, a day, or a week to bide-a-wee with us. We had the sweet privilege-and responsibility- of having Sister Florence (Beebe) Bellows with for a period of twenty-two years. My husband made the necessary changes for her to have a cozy little apartment where she could have the privacy she liked. She was appreciative and was very devoted to him, as to all the family. She often expressed the thought that God had given us to her. It was mutual.
One brother called the place, The Old Baptist Roadhouse. We have been blessed by the presence of many of God’s humble saints.
For a time, before his improvements were begun, he used one end of the house for a printing shop. Here he produced, with linotype and one small press, the Old Faith Contender until 1950.
In our early years he had begun collecting good, sound, doctrinal books from any source he could obtain them. His collection had grown so that more space was needed for them. He was also collecting associational minutes, and other historical records of our churches he could locate. Many times he learned of many records being destroyed by relatives who did not understand their historical value. So his collection was in cartons and unorganized. He began to see the need of a separate building in which to keep these materials and books in safety; and where the material could be classified and made accessible to any who needed the information they contained.
After discussing the need with several brethren who were very much interested in such a project, he contributed a building site and deeded it to the Old School Baptists, to be held in trust by brethren of our faith. Funds began to be collected, and in 1950, an attractive brick building was completed. Space was provided in the building for the publication of the Old Faith Contender. In consideration of this space, he would care for the Library and grounds, and organize and catalog the books and historical material collected. Thus began the Primitive Baptist Publishing House and Library.
Some might not have considered him a shrewd business man. Was this, perhaps, one of his warts? He was entirely without any desire to work for financial gain to himself. He would readily have agreed that he was not a good business man, as the world judges a business man. He was always looking for any way he could find that would be to the advantage of the other person-who, in his case, was usually a brother in Christ. We have heard the phrase, in these matters, I’m not here for my health when demanding more financial benefit. But his motto was, I’m not here to get rich If one should suggest that he did not charge enough for a service, those dark eyes would seem to grow darker as he bore one through, exclaiming, I’m not here to get rich, you know Another version of his policy was, I can’t afford to make a profit This, of course, was said in a light vein. Could impracticability be one of his warts? I honestly do not know. I do know that his policy made it necessary that he work too hard to earn enough to meet his obligations. This at times, gave me concern. I was not there for the purpose of becoming rich either, but I sometimes wished he did not need to work as hard as he did.
On the other hand, this policy enabled him to build a reputation as an honest, sincere man who would not take the least advantage of another. He knew that his welfare was first considered in any transaction.
Along with this characteristic-we will not definitely label it wart – he was naive. He trusted everyone. In any case, this weakness, wart, or virtue, or whatever it might be judged, sometimes brought him into financial difficulty. At such times, the disillusionment hurt him more than the financial loss. There was one unscrupulous man who pretended to be a true believer, who caused him to lose $3,000.00. To console me, he said, Well Honey, we should pray for him
Upon this policy the Primitive Baptist Publishing House was established and was reasonably successful. His business increased until by 1960, it was necessary that he erect a larger plant and install more equipment, and have more help to take care of the increasing volume of printing. He printed the associational minutes for over one hundred associations. Also he published several books for various authors. He re-printed several old books, which had long been out of print. Numerous pamphlets and choice leaflets were published and distributed freely. In addition, he printed for other editors several periodicals: The Christian Pathway, The Advocate and Messenger, The Gospel Appeal, and for a brief period, until the editors could contact a more permanent printer, the Signs of the Times. For about four years he undertook the publication and printing of a periodical for the black Primitive Baptists, called The Primitive Messenger. There were several of the black brethren who were greatly interested and helped. But there was not enough support to justify its continuance.
One incident I must give of him as a salesman: A brother minister was selecting a fairly good order of books. As I worked at the desk, I would hear Winford say, That one is $2.00, or perhaps it would be $3.00. I was rather amused, as taking care of the payment of invoices I knew the invoice charge to be more than he was charging. The good brother soon saw what Winford was doing, and not wanting to take advantage of his generosity, said jokingly, You go on about your work I will do business with Sister Berry I answered, This is his chief joy, and if the books were not paid for I might be a bit anxious, but everything in the house is paid for That dear man made his check for a generous amount, covering abundantly the cost of the books. Thus we see that by being unselfish and generous, one does not always lose, even financially.
The Decease of the Old Faith Contender
At the end of 1980, with sorrow we finally put the Old Faith Contender to bed. It had been his reason for being for nearly a half century. The day we decided, that finally, he could not produce it any longer, we spoke of it seeming almost like burying a dear child we loved. He had been, and I with him, through so many struggles, and discouragements for its publication. And now it had attained to the quality and circulation he had envisioned. It seemed it must be discontinued just when it could have been most profitable in every way. But his vision, as well as his general health, had failed until it required all the efforts of his faithful being, all his bodily strength and more to produce an issue. One of the problems of diabetes is loss, or near loss, of eyesight. And many times it was necessary that he call someone to the press as he tried to achieve even ink distribution, to see, for him, if the printing was clear. To him it appeared only a grey blur.
Being ordained to the ministry, he served his home church, Country Line, over forty years. Several others as pastor, or supply pastor for shorter periods. Healthy Plains about eleven years, I believe, Pleasant Grove from 1944 for seven or eight years. As supply for: Aycock’s, Rock Hill, Kehukee, and others for a few months. He really felt it scriptural to serve only one church. He felt to be a real pastor should require too much of a minister’s time if he should attempt to serve several churches. He felt that this was, as one of the older ministers said, a transient pastor. So when a church greatly needed a pastor, he would sometimes agree to do the best he could until they could obtain a real pastor.
The first sermon he preached I well remember. His text was Isa. 26:6: And in this mountain shall the Lord of hosts make known unto all people a feast of fat things, full of marrow, of wine on the lees, well refined.
I was in deep heartfelt prayer for him that day, as I have been through fifty years of listening to his sermons, that the Lord would bless his ministry. His last sermon was preached in February, 1986, nine days before the Lord took him to Himself. His subject that day was, ‘.`We have an altar A brief outline of this sermon was given earlier in these pages.
Worn with labor, travel and affliction, with heart saddened over the divided condition of those he loved, and for whom he had spent his life, he retired from travel a few years ago. Often when we sang the hymn, O Land of Rest, he sang with deep feeling and sometimes through tears.
0 Land of rest, for thee I sigh,
When shall the moment come,
When I shall lay my armor by,
And dwell with Christ at Home?
I should at once have quit the field,
Where foes and fury roam,
But ah, my passport was not sealed,
I could not yet go home.
One night a few weeks before his departure, he was suffering with severe insulin reaction. In his later years it became hard to regulate his dosage. At these times, naturally, his mind was very much confused. This night he tried very hard to tell me something, but he could only repeat two or three words over and over. It greatly disturbed him and he could not think of what he tried so hard to tell me. Knowing that what I had given him would soon take effect, I told him to wait a few minutes, and then he could tell me. This seemed to quiet him, and he fell asleep for a few minutes. Then arousing, he turned to me and said with great emotion, But what must it be to be there I felt that surely he had experienced a view of the blessed Land of Rest.
And now that time for which he had sighed drew near. On Sunday, February 9, 1986, he worked at his desk almost all day, though not feeling well. His correspondence was behind, and at my offer to help him with it, he said, No, you have enough to do I’ll get at it tomorrow, God willing, and get it caught up. But the dear Lord in His wisdom and mercy was not willing-he had labored long enough. About four in the afternoon, he began to have chest pain. This was not unusual, as he often suffered pain when he exerted himself in any way. Later in the night he became nauseated. My pleas to allow me to call the doctor were vain. He knew that the doctor would want him to enter the hospital, and he had wanted him to two weeks before. He was hesitant, as he thought I would be driving back and forth, and be alone. But early in the morning of February 10, I called the doctor without asking him. He told me, I’ll meet you in the emergency room Winford did not resist longer, but meekly cooperated as we prepared him to go. We left with him leaning heavily on the strong arms of our youngest son, Glen. He was in the Intensive Care Unit just four hours when, with a quick glance upward, he took his flight to that blessed Land of Rest.
What can we say except, The Lord has given, and He has taken away, blessed be His holy name But we weep as we try to say from aching hearts, Thy will, dear Lord be done He is resting in the arms of Infinite Love, and his works will follow him. They shall rest from their labors and their works shall follow them.
The Weeping Prophet
As I look back over the spiritual and deep soul exercises and labors in the ministry of my precious husband, I am often reminded of Jeremiah. The verses below were written at a time when I saw him being misunderstood and sometimes misrepresented. I can say truly of him, he was a weeping prophet.
Is there here a weeping prophet
Sighing for the church of God,
In her days of sad declension,
Who in wanton ways has trod?
Is there one like Jeremiah
Whose lamenting, bitter tears,
And whose warnings, pleadings, sighings,
Come down to us o’er the years?
Is there yet a faithful prophet,
Fen though hated by the throng,
Who will, faithful to his calling,
Cry unto her all day long?
Do we hear the sound of weeping
O’er her sadly fallen plight?
Is there groaning, sighing, praying
Rising for her day and night?
Do we hear poor sinners mourning,
Like the lonely turtle dove,
Yearning for her Lord departed,
Sighing for her early love?
Blessed is the sound of mourning
In these latter, sin-filled years:
Blessed is the sound of weeping,
Oh, may we be bathed in tears
In the prophecy of Ezekiel we read, And the glory of the God of Israel was gone up from the cherub whereupon he was, to the threshold of the house. And he called to the man clothed in linen, which had the writer’s inkhorn by his side; and the Lord said unto him, Go through the midst of the city, through the midst of Jerusalem, and set a mark on the foreheads of the men that sigh and that cry for all the abominations that be done in the midst thereof. Ezekiel 9:3,
Since I have mentioned my dear husband’s warning of the evils he saw in the associations over-lording the churches, I feel it may be well to give here his Editorial which was published in August 1957 issue of the Old Faith Contender, and again, by special request in 1969. It has also been printed in leaflet form, and by other periodicals
The Whole Estate
It has been my desire for several years to visit among the Lord’s people. However, so many divisions have taken place, that many of us seem to be unable to follow the present factional church orders. What apparently was originally one piece of property has been divided into many different fields, with fences running in all directions. In fact, there have been so many fences put up, and plots staked off, that the entire property has been become a confused maze of fences, bars, gates and by-paths, and exits.
We had read about some of the old property disputes, and heard rather heated discussions over certain landmarks and established corners. The more we read, and the longer we listened to the various and sundry disputants for property rights, the less we seemed to understand. In fact it appeared from the general attitude of all parties concerned, that the original Grantor of the property was about to disfranchise the entire estate, and order all the holders to evacuate (Romans 11:25). He seemed to be quite displeased over the run-down state of the property, and the manner in which it had been cut up with so many wire fences interlaced and hopelessly snarled.
Most of these landholders called their particular plot by the name of the original estate. Some did seem to have some likeness to it; and I thought, What a shame that they should be thus evacuated. But when I began to examine the conditions more closely, I could not blame the Land-Owner for His displeasure and His decision to dispossess them. For He had indeed only loaned them this wonderful estate while they should continue in His mercy, and keep it one unit, and thus provide a resting-place for any traveler He might send there. (Romans 11:22; Ephesians 4:3). But they had ignored this agreement and had begun to war among themselves, and finally to set up various barricades and walls until the entire estate is covered with barbed fences, and heavily guarded walls in place of the one peaceful, green pasture and still waters. Ezekiel 34:21; Psalms 23).
I observed that some of the disputants seemed to be more contentious than others, not willing to be friends with the adjoining land-holder, nor to allow any trespassing whatsoever, even to get a drink of cool water, for it seemed that some of the plots had no streams at all. Some of the disputants admitted that they had abused the property, and had not kept the agreement, but could do nothing about it now, that so many fences had been put up. Others seemed honest in their understanding that the fences had been there all the time In fact they pointed these fences out to me as the original landmarks established by the Landlord Himself Still others knew what the original estate looked like, but were too wicked and stubborn to confess it, choosing rather to continue the long-standing feuds. They seemed to be satisfied, that if they could not rule the entire estate, they would dominate a part of it.
I over-heard some talking about a certain boundary fence, suggesting that it should be taken down. One remarked that he did not know why it was ever put there at all, and now that the posts were rotted, it ought to be removed. A more belligerent land-owner, standing by, spoke up and said they’d better leave the fence there, for although it was rotten, if it were taken down, another neighbor might have the same thought and remove his, and so on, until there would be no fences, and that would be bad This objector had, of course, forgotten that the Landlord had built a good wall around the entire estate, with proper gates for egress and ingress (Isaiah 26:1).
This estate seemed still to be a wonderful piece of property, and the occupants also seemed to think so; but in its present dilapidated condition, none of the landholders seemed to be happy, or to be completely enjoying its many wonderful features.
I noticed that some of the more hard-hearted disputants held certain choice spots of the property, and were in command of the main gates and roads leading to the valleys and streams. Although they did not enjoy these pleasant places themselves, they refused passage of those who would (Matthew, 23:13; 3 John 10).
Well as I began to say-before my mind thus went a-field-I had a desire to walk over this entire estate, and view it for myself, and to see, too, if there might not be a few things ready to die that might be strengthened (Rev. 3:2). However, having looked more closely into the will, and seeing the unmistakable displeasure of the Landlord, I have the strong impression that His purpose is to leave it desolate as He did the first estate when He went into a distant country and those left in charge began to beat the servants and to eat and drink and live riotously until He came and drove every one of them from the house. (Matt. 23:38; Rom. 11:21; Rev. 2:5).
So my precious brethren and friends, if you should see me walking around this estate in question, be assured that it is as a friend, who has, for thirty-seven (now fifty) years been intensely interested in its welfare. I hasten to explain that I am not at all interested in any particular plot or boundary now existing, nor have I any desire or purpose to take part in, or aid in the old boundary disputes. I am interested in THE WHOLE ESTATE.
If you love our Master who is the Owner and Disposer of this estate, I love you, and would like to meet you, and if you wish, we could talk a little about the whole estate, its original landmarks, and most of all, about the Landlord Himself.
Yours in our one Lord and Master, -W. J. Berry August, 1957.
The Love of God
The Essential Governing Principle
The true deep, enduring LOVE OF GOD is the first essential to a godly behavior.
The second essential is MEN, -that is, spiritual men, adults grown to maturity (1 Cor. 16:13) in love, charity, patience, discernment, wisdom, understanding, courage, and whatever the gifts and graces necessary to live together. MEN who are able to work out the many difficult problems that arise in the community or assembly of believers. These problems are anything from petty misunderstandings to gross immortality and damnable heresies. (2 Pet. 2:1). You name it;-there should be absolutely no problem to arise among the saints that cannot be resolved in a God-honoring way, -provided there is love and MEN, and these men ye that are spiritual. (Gal. 6:1). This we do not now have. Here is where we are coming short. When a few members of the One Body of Christ fall out and withdraw from each other, NEVER solves a problem but only makes bad matters worse. One faction says, We are sound and standing for the true apostolic order, etc., etc.; the other, and the next, and the next, say the same thing. Paul tells us who, of all these factions, and independent religious orders-which of them are orderly. Paul says, You are ALL carnal. None of you are in order. In other words, the very fact that you preach and teach that there is only One Body, One Church, One Faith, yet you are completely divided among yourselves, -ought to be evidence that NONE of us are right, nor are we following the law of Christ. Hold it up and look at it from any angle you wish,- I, Paul, say to you that Christ is NOT and CANNOT be so divided. (1Cor. 1:13).
The one body of Christ cannot be so divided, any more than you can take a natural human body, cut off an arm and throw it over there, cut off a leg and put it here, the torso there, the feet, the toes and fingers scattered over the landscape (which has literally taken place in history) -then stand up and declare, Here is the one body No indeed. It is NOT so. But that is precisely the present condition of professing churches and individuals professing to be Christians, followers of the ONE Head and the ONE Redeemer today. They vainly, presumptuously, but ignorantly think and speak of themselves as being a true, complete, living body of Christ in the earth. IT JUST IS NOT TRUE At best they are only disconnected parts of that Body.
Have the gates of hell prevailed against the one true church, or redeemed family of God? Certainly not This is not the description of THAT BODY, but rather of what sinful men and women think of as the church of Christ. Rather is it MAN’S doing from start to finish. It is not the work of the Holy Spirit of the One God and Father, but of the carnal, human, depraved nature, with the help of Satan beguiling unstable souls, unstable men and women, who do not possess enough love of God and spirituality in their bosoms to lay down their lives for the brethren in Christ. It is the product of human frailty, ignorance, tradition, lust, arrogance, jealousy, pride, and all the other ugly characteristics of the carnal nature in men and women. Many of these men and women are reprobate, total strangers to the graces of the Spirit of Christ; but let us never forget that these same fruits of the old carnal man are not eradicated or removed in the new birth -even in the true saints of God. That the old nature remains with the divine nature implanted is self-evident, and as all history declares with groaning shame
What then is our state? And what is the answer?
First, we must understand that our One Lord and Redeemer, the great Head of the One Body, the Lord Jesus Christ, never purposed and did not set up another religious organization or institution, held together and perpetuated by any tangible, human means of succession. What, then, did He set up? He sat up in the hearts of men and women, His kingdom, united, held and bound together ALONE by the cords of His love, called a new and living way. (Heb. 10:20). He did not say, When you are properly organized into a church body, having thus and thus, and so on, but He said, by THIS-this what? By this shall all men know that you are My disciples, that you have love one for another. That is the one essential mark our Master and Redeemer Himself tells us is the unerring, infallible, absolute identification that we belong to Him, that we have been taught by Him, that we are His children, that we are true Christians. There are of course all the other fruits and graces that accompany this one essential, implanted principle,-but remember without this one basic, living, eternal, vital principle, or religion, our sound doctrine, or so-called order, together with all our so-called Christian work,-are but a blasphemous mockery of the meek Lamb of God and His holy, divine and never-failing principles. (1 Cor. 13:1)
Does this truth-and it is the undeniable truth of God, of Christ and His apostles,-does it mean that His body, the saints, the church or assembly, the congregation or living witnesses, are not Visible in the earth and TO the whole world? Such a question is really absurd. Was Christ visible to the world when He was shamefully lifted up to hang as a spectacle to all the world? Were His apostles and followers visible when- without all our present clap-trap, play-house religion-they turned the world upside down, by their literal, visible, tangible, Christian lives? Were the martyrs of all ages visible who lived together, walked, preached and practiced these same vital principles in the face of and by a persecuting, Christ-hating world of wolves (Luke 10:3)? And then you ask where and what is the church No unregenerate human eye has or ever will see it in its mystery and in its beauty; however that heathen, unbelieving Roman soldier, who served as the hatchet man for this world system-this man saw SOMETHING, -namely, the fruits. After he had turned the wild beasts loose to devour these Christians who did no harm, but always good to all men-when he saw them huddled together while awaiting their natural end, praying with and for each other, not cursing but blessing and praying for the very people who were murdering them by the thousands, -this unbelieving, hardened Roman soldier looked on and proclaimed those immortal words, Behold how these Christians love one another A visible, living body? Indeed The whole of Christendom today and that includes any and all religions, orders, institutions of any type or nature-that ignores the above principle of our One Head, and substitutes any other device or means to identify itself as My disciples, are NOT that visible body.
This principle, being divinely infinite, could be expanded into volumes, which the world could not contain. (John 21:25), but the multiplying of mere words has never and will never convince one soul until that soul is touched by the Master’s hand, and by the Holy Spirit, to implant deeply, the divine nature and Spirit of God Himself, -of whom the apostle John said, God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him… and everyone that loveth Him that begot, loveth him also that is begotten of Him. (1 John 4:16; 5:10)
All who profess His name must come to understand that this is the first and indispensable principle that MUST characterize all those who name the name of Jesus Christ, and who make any pretense to any degree of being His disciples.
An Urgent Appeal to the Ministry
An Editorial in the Old Faith Contender, April, 1960
How thankful we should be that in the true Church of God, and among the true followers of Christ, there are no high dignitaries through whom we must come to God, or to appeal to His ministers. This is the privilege of everyone in His kingdom though he may consider himself or herself to be the least one. In the affairs of men, the voice of the common people is of little importance; only the pronouncements of their political leaders are esteemed of value. But in the kingdom of our Lord it is not so. Knowing this to be the truth, we are encouraged to make the following appeal to the entire ministry who profess to preach the gospel of the Son of God, salvation by grace, and the perseverance of the saints to glory. While this appeal comes by one feeble soul, we trust and believe it is from many crying hearts. We know it is made in the fear of God and out of love for His people and His cause in the earth. It is based on one great command of our Master, that as He has loved us, so we ought to love one another; as He laid down His life for us, so we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren.
We make this appeal directly and chiefly to the ministry, because in all ages under God, the ministry has been held responsible for the spiritual welfare of God’s children. By spiritual welfare we of course, do not mean the generation of their spiritual life, but instruction and encouragement of their spiritual life, in its every-day manifestation before men. That you may know how to behave yourself in the house of God. (1 Tim. 3:15). Also that they should contend for the faith once delivered to the saints, of the doctrine according to godliness. (1 Tim. 6:3).
This burden and trust (1 Thess. 2:4), has been given to God’s ministry, not because they-as men-are better or wiser than others of God’s children, because they are not; neither is it because God is not able to do without them. The reason is simply because it is God’s ordained order for His house. Every true, God-called servant knows this. Regardless of how far short he feels to come in his stewardship, he knows something of God’s claims upon him as a ministering servant. He may not admit, or he may attempt to excuse himself and his neglect, but deep down in his heart he knows. Only the false minister whom God has not sent, will justify himself and deny this trust.
There are so many things confronting the true minister of Christ today. There are many good things covered up, many evil and wrong things substituted for the good things; we have become weak and carnally minded. The work is great and large, and we are separated upon the wall, one from another. (Neh. 4:19). But may God enable us to consider just a few of the chief weaknesses, and wherein there MUST be a reform and turning, if there is to continue any true worship within our present framework. If this statement seems far-fetched, we suggest you reserve your final opinion until all things are fairly and honestly considered.
Our Master tells us that a house divided against itself cannot stand. Oh yes, His true church will stand, but this may not mean OUR house. The apostle said, If you fight and devour one another, take heed that you be not consumed one of another, and Jesus did not say that house MIGHT fall, but that it CANNOT stand. Do we believe Him? The walls of OUR house have been crumbling for some time now, and God knows whether they are beyond repair; but we know that unless the crumbling ceases soon, and the necessary repairs are made, what remains will be anything but God-honoring. The great question facing the ministry as well as all the dwellers in this house is: Am I willing to make the sacrifice that just might save it-if God will?
We begin our appeal to the ministry for a greater manifestation of the love of God (1 Pet. 1:22), among them. Every virtue and all right doing must be positively and definitely manifest in the ministry first, before having its effect on those who hear them. By a practical manifestation of love, we do not mean love in word only. It is a very unbecoming thing for those professing to be God’s children to talk about love, while they hate and devour one another. Sermons may be preached on love, but it is hollow mockery if the ministry which preaches love, does not manifest the fruits of that love.
The ministry today is NOT united in the love of Christ. We mean the ministry in any given order of faction -regardless of your selection-you do not find them as one man, bound together like David and Jonathan, with the cords of that love that is stronger than death. We do not say there are not two souls here .and there with that kind of love; but you do not find that kind of love flowing in the ministry. They are not close enough to each other to freely discuss and face common problems with each other. They cannot study and hold constructive converse on important spiritual matters, with a common interest. This ought not to be.
Love works no ill to his neighbor. That this love is sadly lacking in many among the ministry today is evident by the fruits of jealousy. Jealousy committed the first murder, and it has been the source of much evil and sorrow in the world, but in no place is it more hideous and destructive than in the ministry. No one can have love and jealousy in the heart at the same time.
Jealousy produces hate, and hate is murder, and God says if a man hates his brother, how dwells the love of God in him? And he who hates his brother is a murderer. This is indeed a very serious declaration; but to be guilty of it is far more serious. This kind of hate and jealousy is very much in evidence today in the ministry.
To make a general appeal is worthless. Each one of us must take it all to heart as though we were personally guilty of the whole. You may not hate your brother, but are you sure you are not following a course and attitude dictated by hate and evil? We must be very honest about this very serious matter, and not be too hasty to say with the lips that we love, when we perform or join with those who daily perform the acts of hate and destruction. This is done in so many ways, too numerous to mention. But we may cover many things being done, by asking if the love of God in the breast of a saved sinner will cause him to knowingly and persistently say anything or do anything that will hurt another, regardless of how bad or wrong that other person may be? Will the love of God cause one to gossip and carry malicious tales about another?
We appeal to the ministry to begin at once, by the grace of God, to improve the present condition. First, those of you who may be guilty yourselves of hate, bitterness, gossiping and evil communication, cease from it NOW. Let all of us not only cease to engage in such things ourselves, but publicly, in love, reprove all such things among our hearers, not one time, but repeatedly insist upon it. We are commanded to even rebuke some publicly.
The ministry today unconsciously seeks to please men rather than God. This indicates only one thing, namely, they fear men more than they fear God. There is no other answer. If we fear God, and know what is true and right, we will speak it and stand by it, regardless of consequences. God’s children who have God’s fear in their hearts, will not be offended when thus reproved. They want that reproof. Just one kind but firm reproof may heal breaches and save relationships.
We appeal to the ministry to use the word of God as your only authority for what you preach and practice, and cease to follow the endless and shameful rules and traditions of men. If God has called you to preach His gospel and to suffer for the truth, you are not the servants of men. If you continue to preach and practice that which you know is contrary to right and truth, the evidence is that God has not called you. The true minister ought to obey God rather than men. You may sincerely believe you are not following men. In fact, the majority in the ministry today will deny that they fear men, or that they are following ungodly traditions. Either you have been tutored in it, and sincerely think you do God service, or you know the truth, but fear to walk in it. In either case, we appeal to you for the sake of the holy cause you profess, to either renounce your profession as a minister, or be faithful to your Master, and to your own convictions. It does not take a wise man to see it; any God-taught, God-fearing, discerning child can see that there are men ordained in the ministry today whom God did not call to preach His gospel, because they do not preach it, and they do not live it. And no man can walk as a true minister without the unadulterated love of God in his heart.
We appeal to those who have been in the ministry for a number of years. We have not many fathers. (1 Cor. 4:15). The older ministers formerly instructed and counseled the younger ones, which bore fruit in those who heeded. It is regrettable to observe a great neglect of the older ministers to give loving and fatherly instruction to the younger ministers. We see today the bad fruits of this neglect. Much of the advice that is given is wrong and often given in a dictatorial spirit. We appeal to you older brethren to be more faithful with those being ordained or recently ordained, that in patience and love you may admonish and instruct them as Paul instructed his son in the Ministry, Timothy; not with the traditions of men, but the traditions or teachings of the apostles. Do not allow them to ignorantly continue in a teaching or practice you know to be wrong, without at least making some effort to convert them from their error, and then be slow to disown them, if they do not just as you say. You may admit that you are not perfect, and therefore it behooves you to be as humble as you want your younger brother to be. It is one thing to instruct in love as a father, but quite a different thing to lay down rules and patterns of interpretation, and demand they be followed as though you were infallible. Love them and pray for them. Too many are being ordained before being proved, which is the fault of both church and the ministry.
We appeal to you who are young in the ministry that you may be more humble and easily to be entreated, both by other ministers and the brethren and sisters who seek your good. So many young ministers today manifest an unteachable attitude. They seem to be blind to their own faults and shortcomings, and when a faithful member is bold enough to point them out, they become offended, or ignore the counsel. This is the wrong attitude for anyone to take, and especially a minister who ought to strive to follow the things he preaches. While it is proper and brotherly to be easily entreated and to be counseled, that does not mean you must follow blindly what an older minister tells you; but measure it in the divine scale and see if it be so. (Acts 17:11) If the Lord has called you, preach what He bids, and not what you think you have to preach to stay in line. The ministry today is not free because it is slavishly following the order and patterns of interpretation of its particular fellowship. This pattern may or may not be right. The result is lack of power and original thinking on the part of the younger ministers. You must preach a thing because you know it is the truth, and not merely because the so-called ablest ministers preached it.
We appeal to all the ministry to give more thought to what you set forth; to interpret scripture by scripture rather than scripture by opinions and wild theories. We do not believe we have ever had in America as much jargon and confused interpretations of scripture as now. It is very common for a minister to make a lot of talk of disconnected thought wholly without scriptural proof, or to read some scripture and wrest it to mean everything except what God meant. There are many of God’s children hungering and searching for the truth, for sound speech and what God says. There are so many Lo here’s and Lo there’s that they become discouraged and unsettled. What we think will do them no good. They must have what God says and what God thinks. We may make many statements which may be the truth but if unsupported by God’s word we cannot expect the hearers to be either comforted or established in the truth. They may indeed take what you say because you say it, but they have no gospel foundation to build on.
What a great responsibility rests on the ministry today This is the day foretold by the apostles when many false doctrines would be preached, when the three unclean spirits like frogs would spread over the earth teaching lies, by which, if it were possible, they would deceive the very elect. Therefore, how much the more does it behoove God’s people and His true ministers to believe and teach the truth and nothing but the truth; to be of the same mind and the same faith, unified by the love of Him who called them. Without a manifestation of this love and unity what evidence do we have that He has indeed called us?
We appeal to the ministry to seek and return to the true basis of Christian fellowship. Satan himself could not have devised a more devilish system to confuse God’s people than we are now following. For the sake of the cause of truth and your blessed Master we beseech you to give serious and prayerful study to the root canker that is eating at our vitals and draining our cause of the spiritual life that makes the difference between those who worship God in spirit and truth and those who do not.
We appeal to every minister not to wait for someone else to take the lead in following that which is right, but begin yourself at home. You already know these and many more things. What are you waiting for? Let us go to our Guide Book, beg God to lead us, and then follow the truth as we see it-regardless of what others do. If we were called before our Master today to give account of our activities, and He would ask us, Did you seek and follow My commandments plainly written and delivered to you? What could we say? Any of us? All of us? What could we say? Would we offer the excuses that may be in your mind at this moment, of that we are hearing today from every quarter? You know what we would say: Lord, I am guilty Then why not say it now? Why not humbly admit it now, and beg Him to fill us with His love, and give us grace and courage to follow Him in all things?
We appeal to the ministry to refrain from following and supporting the current destructive, unscriptural and unChristian, man-made system of church control. Labor to instruct and exhort those ministers who still persist in pressing their ungodly rule to divide God’s children. Let us begin ;immediately and persistently to seek out and return to God’s order for true Christian fellowship, His love in our breasts being the first ruling principle. For Christ’s sake, Who died for us, for the sake of His Bride, His sheep, His lambs, and His truth-let us stop the petty, foolish and shameful talk and actions now destroying what little relationship we may have left. If we are too blind to see ourselves, may we pray to God to open our eyes that we may see and beg for mercy before it is too late.
We appeal to the ministry who read this not to consider who wrote it; that doesn’t really matter, does it? But we do pray and beseech you all in love to consider the subject matter factually, most earnestly and prayerfully without prejudice, and with only one thing in view, namely, the honor and glory of our Lord and Master and the common good of His confused, torn and scattered people to whom we profess to minister.
We have not written this with the thought of telling anyone how to preach, but our burden is only that we love one another and be true to our calling. We would earnestly pray that God will enable us all to strive for true fellowship and walk in the truth as it is in Christ Jesus, and lay down our lives in peace.
0 God, help us
As I look back over the years of my dear husband’s ministry, I see a definite consistency. He preached a sovereign, omnipotent, omnicient God: One who is in absolute control over all His creation; yet One who is merciful, full of compassion, having a love for His own surpassing a mother’s love.
He contended for God’s sovereignty and man’s responsibility. He saw no contradiction here.
It was his steadfast burden through all the years of his ministry to declare ALL the counsel of God: His greatness, His power, His wisdom, love and mercy. He contended faithfully for His grace in the salvation of His people, without the works of poor puny sinners.
Along with this burden of his ministry, he also instructed in righteousness and true holiness. Often he described a doctrine according to godliness, and the things that accompany salvation. He pleaded for avital godliness.
While he contended for God’s absolute decrees, he contended also for a godly walk by those professing a change by grace. Salvation must precede any good works, but a true godly life MUST follow a profession, or how can one believe it to be a true profession?
Through the years from his youth in the ministry, even to his last sermon, these two points-God’s sovereignty and man’s responsibility -were well-balanced.
He saw God’s people in these last days departing, departing, forsaking, ever more rapidly, the path of righteousness, even as Israel did of old. His ministry was a calling us back, calling us back, often through tears.
I saw him one time while writing his Editorial for the Old Faith Contender, O Jerusalem, Jerusalem. I saw him when he bowed his head over his desk and wept as he wrote. He loved and prayed for the people of God in the evil days. He warned, labored, prayed, and groaned for them, that they might be spared in the say of God’s judgment. It can be said of him:
I love Thy kingdom, Lord,
The house of Thine abode;
The church our blest Redeemer saved,
With His own precious blood:
I love Thy church, 0 God,
Her walls before Thee stand,
Dear as the apple of Thine eye,
And graven on Thy hand.
For her my tears shall fall,
For her my prayers ascend,
For her my cares and toils be given,
Till toil and cares shall end. . .
Those precious lines by Timothy Dwight (1752-1817) portray Winford’s life of service to the people of God, whom he loved with a deep devotion.
Our Love Story
Since I was reared in West Virginia and Winford in California, many have asked us how it happened that we met. So I would like to speak of the gracious Providence that brought us together. This is his story, but as I became a part of his life, I must speak of his love, of which I was unworthy. For I felt the first time I met him, that he would become a faithful minister of God.
Truly God moves in mysterious ways In the hills of beautiful West Virginia, I was born to Willard and Otha (Wilson) Pennington. I was born on New River, near Glen Ferris, and not far from the scenic New River Gorge.
Through the years of my childhood, my father told us that some day we would go to California. He read to us of the beauties of that state, where the flowers bloom and the birds sing all the year. As the snow fell in West Virginia, and I thought of the birds singing in California and the beautiful flowers blooming all the time, it was, to my childish mind, a bit like saying we would go to Heaven some day.
As I look back over seventy-nine years, I can see God’s hand leading us every step of the way; for Winford also was taken to California when very young. Our pathways even then were leading us to the time when we would meet.
When I was eighteen years old, that some day drew near. With my family I began the journey westward in the latter part of 1926. It was Father’s plan to visit relatives in Kentucky, Ohio, and Kansas, as we traveled westward.
There were no good highways at that time. Highway #66 was only a graveled, wash-board road. There were no motels, only here and there a few rough cabins where one could rest at night. Mostly we used tent and camping equipment. We children enjoyed each minute, like a long vacation.
Coming in view of the great Rocky Mountains, glowing dreams were spun in my imagination. But I did not in the most rosy of these dreams realize the joy awaiting me-nor the trials and sorrow.
This was strange, for I had not been much interested in going with girls, and having met no one who impressed me, concluded that I would never be married. (We were working rather quickly for two young people who were determined not ever to be married)
Continuing, he wrote:
Brother Homer took great interest in our courtship, as though we were his own children. He was one of the most godly men I have ever known. He- could not offer thanks at the table without weeping at the goodness of God to him. He was an inspiration to me, kind and gracious. (He was instantly killed by a speeding car driven by teen-agers soon after we were married. We grieved for him as for a father. Truly he was a spiritual father to us.)
Winford continues:
So on July 27, 1928, two months before I was twenty years old, I was married to Miss Mabel Pennington, a helpmeet indeed, whom the Lord mercifully and graciously gave me, but of whom I was not, and am not worthy.
Back to our meeting that day. As we entered the meeting house he came and sat beside Mother and me. Our love developed rapidly from that day. An amusing thing happened as we were having lunch in the church basement. At the exact moment both of us started to reach for a piece of pie. At the same instant, we realized there was only one piece, and remembering our manners, hesitated to take the last piece. As we laughed about our dilemma, he said, I have the solution: You cut it in half, and we’ll each take a half piece at the same time. This small incident seemed to presage for us a life-time of sharing.
One of the warts he wished me to mention, perhaps his only serious one, manifested itself very early in our relationship. This was his sad lack of self-esteem. I could see even then that it would be necessary that I do all possible to help him overcome his deep sense of inferiority. This was due, mostly, to the sad rejection of his mother, of which I have spoken before.
This became apparent as one Sunday when we entered the church building, instead of coming to sit with me, as before, he went to the back to sit with my brothers. Of course I could not understand why he had merely spoken to me coolly, and I was crushed. I spent the entire time of service in tears, for though we had not spoken of it, I felt that he loved me, as I certainly loved him. Reluctant to seem to forward, if he were not serious, yet feeling that I may have unintentionally offended him (for I did often speak hastily, and was frank to a fault sometimes), I thought I would very casually ask if I had offended him in any way. Of all things, I would not allow him to see how hurt I felt by shedding a tear But like a popular song of a few years ago, An itty-bitty tear let me down Only it was not itty-bitty nor was it just a tear. For at my first word the big tears forced their way down my cheeks. I was painfully embarrassed He raised very sad eyes to my face, and oh, the tender love I saw there No he was not offended He had just had the vision of something lovely, which could never be for one like he felt to be Taking my hand, and tenderly kissing it, said, No, Sweetheart, it is just that you are too fine for me When I knew the cause for his actions that day, it removed my hesitation, and answering I said to him: If you want to hurt me, you can do it in no better way than to demean and discredit yourself You are worthy of the best And I am far from the best
He told me later that he would never have allowed me to escape him It was just one of the times of his despondency and sense of rejection, with which we were to become very familiar over the years. He could overcome these periods for the most part, but his low self-esteem was a problem that often beset him.
After this episode, we had a very happy relationship for a time. But life does not always come up roses, and if it should, they would wear their thorns. I had heard Dad speak many words of praise of my dear one. So I had no thought that he would object to our relationship. He did not seem to at first, but as he saw we were growing serious, he put his foot down He had often made the remark that he had never met a more godly, remarkable young man. But it seemed it was different if he should become too serious about his only little girl. I am sure it would have been the same no matter whom he might be. He never spoke one derogatory word of him, but I was just to discontinue the relationship. He need give no reason I was to obey him It was an almost unbelievable situation, even for 1928. I was of legal age, but I had been brought up to strict obedience, and until that time I had never considered disobeying my parents-until it came to the time that I was given orders never to see my beloved one again I was to tell him so that evening when he would come. There was to be no discussion
When he came that evening, I did not noticeably pay any attention to him. I am sure Dad thought I was being my usual obedient self. He did not realize that I was a grown-up woman in love with her fine husband to be Of course Winford knew of his objections, and he knew it had become very serious, and he did not know how it would end. I was wearing his diamond engagement ring on a chain around my neck, which of course Dad could not see.
That evening he and Winford talked on spiritual things as usual, and as they talked, I knew he was watching me closely. There was a copy of Pilgrim’s Progress lying on the table. I went to the table, presumably looking for something, but I slipped a note between the pages of the book. He had told me when we become engaged that should things become too difficult at home, because of Dad’s objections, he would be ready at any time, to be married, though we had planned to continue the engagement two years. This was my idea, for I hoped I could change Daddy’s mind.
Soon Winford picked up the book and left the room. When he returned, his happy countenance flashed me his answer. The note: Darling, if you still feel as you did when we talked last, meet me at the back corner of the yard at 4 a.m. Monday.
It was the hardest thing I had ever done to go against my father’s wishes. I knew I had Mother’s blessing. But between Saturday night and Monday morning, I really came of age. I was no longer a little girl. I was a woman who loved as fine a man as this world could produce. But parental will was a strong tie to sever for one who had always given unquestioning obedience. I loved my dad and mother and brothers devotedly. It tore my heart to leave them and my beloved home. Especially to creep away in secret, under darkness seemed a dreadful experience But the alternative I could not bear Dad had no right to thus deprive a twenty-year-old woman of her right to a happy marriage. I prayed all through Sunday night, and was helped by the Scripture that gave me a right to leave father and mother and cleave to a husband. I was only transferring my submission from my father to a precious husband.
We met Monday morning as arranged, and after applying for the marriage license, he took me to the home of Brother and Sister Horner. They were planning to give me the wedding, and their sixteen-year-old daughter was disappointed that their plans were not to be realized. For the second day I was there, Daddy came. He suspected I would be there I am sure. When he asked Sister Horner if I was there, at her hesitancy to answer, he said, so that I could hear from the other room, Come on home, Honey, and be married there. Mother is crying her eyes out I had been very sad not to be married at home, and I knew Mother was heart-broken that I had to go the way I had. So as he spoke, I ran into his arms and joyfully went home with him. The dear Lord had answered my prayers We were married the next day, with only our families, the minister, and a few close friends present. It was a very simple wedding, but I was as happy as a bride can be. My dear one had brought armloads of carnations to the house. Their fragrance always reawakens the memory of that day, wherever I experience their sweet fragrance.
Following are verses written early in our life, and during our Golden Years:
Prisoners of Love
Out of Life’s Somewhere
You came to me;
With one look, my captive heart
Was no longer free.
For I was a prisoner bound
Forever to thee;
The cords of love firmly ’round
Closer drawing me.
Those cords made you a prisoner too,
Your dear heart t’ entwine;
Your dear life was all entangled
Helplessly with mine
Captives of love we both became,
For Love’s sweetened dart,
With unfailing and joyful aim
Entered your dear heart.
Firmly bound by love,
We no longer roam;
Now our love-bound, prisoner hearts
Finally at home.
Bound together forever as one,
The heart of you and me;
Never more to wander alone, And would not be free
Golden Years Remembrances
Southern moon shone down in splendor;
Whispering breezes kissed us there;
With loving words, softly spoken
Solemnly, almost as prayer,
Your dear loving eyes and tender,
As you softly spoke to me
Of your deeply felt unworthiness
To make such an earnest plea.
Should I wait until I’m worthy,
Your sweet lips in love to press,
And hold you to my poor bosom,
I would yet deserve you less
For I could never be worthy
Of your love for one like me
Oh let me kiss your lips tonight,
For worthy I ne’er shall be
The moon and stars seemed to be smiling,
As you held me in your embrace;
Your lips pressed mine in tenderness,
Love shining in your dear face.
That precious love, humbly offered,
Filled my heart with joyful bliss;
My heart today, worn and weary,
Thrills with the memory of that first kiss.
Soft, half-tropic breezes, gentle,
‘Neath southern, star-studded sky;
All joined in our sweet love, blessing
The happiness of you and I
No breath of Life’s sorrow touched us,
To mar that blissful night;
All heartaches safely hidden;
Not a cloud was then in sight.
Our love, like the cloudless evening,
Was innocent, pure and bright;
Around us shone its radiant beauty
Love illumed that blissful night
Nor was I of your love.worthy,
But humbly my heart I gave
Into your dear, tender keeping,
A love t’ndure to the grave.
Since that lovely night, my Darling,
Life has taught us how to weep;
Life has taught us how to suffer,
Oft robbed weary eyes of sleep.
Oft we trod a troubled pathway,
But Darling, let us remember this:
That radiant night’s sweet happiness,
And that first moment of bliss
Some Tender Incidents
I cannot close this rather brief biography of my dear husband without give a few little incidents which portray the love and tenderness of our dear one.
In our care of my dear one’s grandmother, we endured some very real problems. She was a person who was hard to please. And all through the trying years of my caring for her, he was most supportive, but never did he say one unkind word to her. In fact, I am very thankful that she did not hear one unkind word from either of us during the eight years we cared for her. We loved her. She was a sincere Christian. For this reason we could feel no regret when the Lord called her to himself in 1943 at age eighty-nine.
One of these tender incidents occurred after the birth of our second little son. He did not breathe in this world, but I had received assurance several days before that He was taken from the evil to come. I would remember this, when, years later, the two older sons must leave home in the time of cruel war.
But that sad, dreary day in November 1931, my poor Darling had to take our little infant alone, as I was very ill, to its little grave. After caring for our dear little two-and-a-half-year-old Jennings and many other duties, he came into my room and took me into his loving arms to comfort me. He then looked about the room, and seeing flowers friends had brought, he hastily left the room. He soon returned with the one last rosebud from the bush that had bloomed profusely all summer, but now was in its resting period. He had taken a fern and had arranged the rosebud in a pretty bottle which he used for a vase. I have that rosebud today among my souvenirs.
Another time when I was in the hospital following surgery, he came into the room, and suddenly looking very upset, he said, Oh I forgot to bring you a flower I assured him that his presence meant more to me than to take the precious time to go to the florists. But he slipped out into the corridor, where the nurses had placed the flowers for the night, and looking stealthily about, slipped one red rose from someone’s arrangement and brought it to me, tender love shining in his dear eyes. My nurse said the next day, I believe your husband is still romantic, for in amusement she had seen the crime committed, and had smiled fondly at him.
Those were care-filled, busy days for both of us. There were so many burdens that it seemed there was time only for the pressing responsibilities. These taken care of, sometimes the body and mind were too weary for many tender words. And just sometimes, I yearned for more assurances of his love. However, I did not yearn for too long before he would sweetly make up for any possible neglect of this matter.
I tried to keep his desk dusted and tidy, and kept a fresh flower there almost all the time. I had been gathering the tiny pink roses which grew in profusion along the fence. Then a bush of red rose began to bloom, and I brought one of these in for his desk. When he noticed it, he expressed his appreciation for the flowers, saying, I have enjoyed the little pink ones, but I believe I prefer the large red ones. As lovely as it is, I have the feeling there is more loveliness deep down in the heart. Then looking with great tenderness, he said, I have the same feeling when I look at my Sweetheart What more could a precious bridegroom say? Like our heavenly Bridegroom, Thou art all fair, My love; there is no spot in thee
As a father, he was patient with the little boys, but he usually needed to speak only once to them to have their quick obedience. One incident will illustrate this. Our eight-year-old Richard had the bad habit of pinching his brothers, when he became angry. He made great blue marks on them, especially the youngest, Glen. Daddy had warned him finally: One more time, Son, and Daddy will have to use the belt It was not many days until little Glen came crying, a great mark, the skin actually broken. Richard pinched me again, Daddy Daddy called Richard, who came fearfully, for he knew that when promised a spanking, or anything else, it was usually a sure thing.
Son, do you remember what Daddy told you the last time you pinched Glen? Sniff, sniff, Yes Sir.
Richard had not been well for several months. Subsequent removal of badly infected tonsils corrected the problem. But that day when Daddy looked at the little fellow, clad only in shorts, he could see the thin little body. As I looked on, I knew that he was not going to be able to strap him. I felt sorry for him as well as for the dear little boy. But I knew his word was at stake. Finally he said, as Richard stood there fearfully: Son, Daddy does not like to hurt his little boys But you know you have hurt Glen, and this cannot be repeated What do you think about it, Son? Is there any way, if I don’t strap you, that we can be SURE this will never happen again?
A gleam of hope appeared on his little face as he answered, Daddy, do you suppose it would help if we prayed about it?
That is exactly what that dear Daddy did. He kneeled there and prayed with his little son, asking God to help him so that he would never want to hurt his little brother again. I do not remember that he ever pinched one of his brothers again.
One more incident showing his love and tenderness, even in the final days of his life.
On January 28, 1986, I had taken him to his doctor and to the hospital for tests. The doctor urged him that day to enter the hospital. But he wanted so much to come home that his doctor finally agreed for him to come home. I stopped at the grocery store on the way, and he wanted to go in the drug store next door. I cautioned him that he should stay in the warm car, for we feared pneumonia, and there was fluid in the lungs. But he said he would be only a minute, and was dressed warmly. He carried his purchase under his overcoat. I suspected what he had done, as Valentine Day was nearing. He was never much interested in observing Days, but he always used this day as an opportunity to give me a pretty heart-shaped box of candy. Some of them are so pretty with lace and flowers that I have not been able to discard them.
When we reached home, he took his purchase from beneath his coat, saying tenderly, It’s early, but I was afraid we might not be able to get back to town, so I will give this to you now. Here is a heart full of sweets for my Sweetheart
Two days before Valentine Day arrived, we placed his precious form in his crypt at Memorial Park in Burlington, North Carolina.
Widowhood
The word, Widow has always evoked for me the image of a poor woman who has been crushed by life’s most cruel blow. It has always seemed to me to be the most tragic sorrow this life can bring. I have often told one of these, in my efforts to console, that she has been sustained through life’s greatest sorrow. Surely the dear Lord will sustain her in any possible future trial. I have truly wished to empathize with one who has lost a dear companion. My sympathy truly has been so aroused that I verily felt I could share her sorrow at least to some degree. My heart has been touched by such sorrow as no other loss could cause. In my feeble attempt to console, I have taken such a dear one in my arms saying with heartfelt compassion, I know, dear heart But I did not know I wanted to share, to feel her pain. NOW I know
I had lost dear father, mother, brother, and sweet infant. But I think I never felt the full impact of death until February 10, 1986, when I saw my Darling of more that fifty-seven years suffering the cruel pangs of death. He made only one out-cry: I have never suffered like this before And I must stand there, vainly trying to encourage and console him, wanting so fervently to relieve his suffering, wanting to share it. But I could only cling to his precious hand with breaking heart. I had thought I knew what a broken heart was, but now my heart was breaking
Yes, now I know the meaning of widowhood It is to turn as if to share a lovely scene, a beautiful flower, or a bird song, with one who is not there It takes time to realize over and over, and over, the awful finality of death. At times there is an anger that wells up in my heart against death. It is a frightful foe It is the enemy of us all since our parents subjected us to the dread penalty of death when they were in beautiful Eden.
To see the dissolution of a precious loved one, knowing that it is the penalty for sin passed upon all of humanity, is to experience what a terrible thing sin is, and consequently, what death is.
When we are joined together by the sacred bonds of marriage, we become one; we are no longer two persons, but one in the sight of God. When torn asunder by death, we can never be whole again. For the remainder of life one is not really complete.
To be a widow means turning, half awakening in the night, to put an arm over one who is not there. Then, fully awake, the arm falls on a very flat, tidy bed. No form is there, or ever will be again The bed coverings are heart-breakingly tidy, no longer rumpled by an often restless body, which made it necessary to get up and tuck the covers about dear feet to keep them warm. No, now I sleep on a tidy, heart-broken bed
Even before I had experienced my dear one’s death, I have hardly ever been able to read Robert J. Burdette’s poem Alone without tears. He has expressed for us the awful loneliness for a beloved companion. He had nursed her, sitting beside her bed for many long weeks.
I miss you, my darling, my darling.
The embers burn low on the hearth;
And still is the stir of the household,
And hushed is the voice of its mirth;
The rain splashes fast on the terrace,
The winds past the lattices moan;
The midnight chimes out from the minster,
And I am alone
I want you, my darling, my darling.
I am tired with care and with fret;
I would nestle in silence beside you,
And all but your presence forget
In the hush of the happiness given,
To those who through trusting have grown
To the fulness of love in contentment,
But I am alone
I call you, my darling, my darling,
My voice echoes back on my heart;
I stretch my arms to you in longing,
And lo they fall empty apart
I whisper the sweet words you taught me,
The words that we only have known,
Till the blank of the dumb air is bitter,
For I am alone
I need you, my darling, my darling,
With its yearning my very heart aches;
The load that divides us weighs harder,
I shrink for the jar that it makes.
Old sorrows rise up to beset me,
Old doubts make my spirit their own,
Oh, come through the darkness and cheer me,
For I am alone
Widowhood is a time for remembering. Oh the sweetness now of the memory of the tenderness shown His loving protection was always there. I could not go to the basement alone, for he feared I would fall. I must not go to the prolific rosebush in the corner of the yard until he had beaten down the weeds and grass to assure himself that no snake was there. Now his protection is removed. His very protectiveness now makes his absence more sadly felt. But it is as if he watches over me still. For now I must attend to things in the basement alone, and I seem to feel his arm still supporting me, cautioning me to be careful. It magnifies the heartache to realize again and again that he is not there-he will never be there
I am remembering. We traveled extensively until recent years. As he spoke to the large congregations, I often felt to be alone, though surrounded by the throng. Sometimes very weary, sometimes not very well, despondent at times. Then I would see his dear eyes seeking me, flashing his love above the crowd, and I was no longer alone. When he could come to me, with that tender, crooked smile, he would say, Are you all right, Sweetheart? Oh yes Whatever distressed me, bodily pain or weariness, anxiety over various things-oh yes, I was all right He was there He loved me That made everything right Now he is not there, nor ever can be, and I am alone with my cares and burdens whatever they may be.
Yes, the only way we can understand the word widowhood is to be one. And to think I asked for it I thought I could endure the loss better than he could. I had hoped he would never suffer what I now suffer. I still am thankful that it is I rather than he who mourns. But I did not know for what I asked. At times I have cried out, HOW did I ever imagine I could bear it
Yes, I even prayed that he would be taken Home before me. I felt that I alone could understand his peculiar need. No one could realize, I thought, that one sleeping by his side must almost keep one wakeful eye and ear, because of his times of near unconsciousness, due to reaction to the medication that controlled his condition for forty-five years. I had prayed the heavenly Father that I be allowed, and given strength, to be the one who would tenderly tuck him in. And yes, even now, after feeling the pain of my loss, I thank Him for answering my prayer. I am blessedly reconciled, but this does not mean that the heart does not break, never to be whole again.
Though the aloneness, the sadness of widowhood, is to be my future lot for whatever of life is left to me, yet there is a precious joy. I know he is safe in the arms of Infinite Love, never to sigh, never to suffer again. Never can he be wounded as he was sometimes wounded in this life. Never again So I try to lift my eyes from heavy grief, selfish grief, to see him there, and my sad lonely heart finds peace.
The night following his death, being weary, I slept until about 2 a.m.. Not being able to sleep more, I tried to pray, and wept. But I could never explain it, but I could seem to feel his presence still with me. This helped me to bear his loss. He did not then seem so far away. I arose and tried to relieve my sadness and express the presence I felt in the following verses.
My Precious Darling
Our home is warm with your presence,
I feel it in every room,
About my sad heart encircling,
Banishing darkness and gloom.
There’s a joy that sweetens the sorrow,
While I weep there, Darling, tonight;
I think of you there with our Savior,
In that Home, sinless and bright.
With life you had grown so weary;
Your wishes were all above,
And now your dear heart is resting
In the arms of Infinite Love.
Oh yes, I miss your loving protection,
That blessed me o’er the long years;
My sad heart is heavy with longing,
And I need you to dry my tears
Tonight my sad heart is yearning
To hear again your dear voice,
That said so often, I love you,
Making my heart to rejoice.
But I’ll see you there in the morning,
Where we shall never more part;
And tonight, my Darling, your presence
Comforts my aching heart.
Our love here was great, my Darling,
But it will be purer there
Unhampered by life’s confusions,
No longer bowed down with care.
(Written February 11, 1986, at 2:20 a.m.)
Lonely April Thoughts
My Darling, it is lovely April again-the first April of my lonely widowhood, the second month, a long, sad lonely time. April has always brought me a thrilling happiness-you remember how joyously I called each lovely April scene to your attention. Always April inspired me to poetry. You loved my April songs. But this April the loveliness only magnifies my sadness for you are not here to share it. I almost turn to share a lovely flower, the dogwood budding, the beauty of our azaleas; I watch over the bulb garden I planted in the fall. How you worried that I would work too hard, unable to help me. I almost say, Oh see Darling those pretty double daffodils And look at that gorgeous tulip But no one is beside me. I see young life all about, like a lovely resurrection, thrilling our hearts. But now I have no April song. How can I ever again sing a song of cheer, when you are no longer here?
The enjoyment of any beauty is fully experienced only when it can be shared with a loved one. Now the sun shines more dimly; the bird songs sound sorrowful; all the loveliness of April is overcast by a pall of sadness. The happy spring sounds are sad and muted. April shines in my windows, casting a beauty over our dear home. It reflects the pretty room which you so recently papered in gold (though you were not able to do the work). It is so pretty. You wanted to make it nice for me But it is not ours, it is mine alone, but it brings me little consolation now.
Oh yes, I am thankful you did not leave me in an unsightly hovel. God was so good to us-to me But now that you are gone the homeliness fails to console the heart. Since you are in that happy Land where parting is unknown, I see all things here just a little like you must now see things of earth. Your being there lessens the joy of earthly things, and heightens the anticipation of that blest Eternity. To see all things here in that light gives a clearer view of the Home where you now abide – forever.
Oh yes, you are dead The finality of it, the reality of it flows over my heart in billows of sorrow. That is, your dear body is dead. It was worn and weary, beaten down by life’s cruelties.
Last fall I planted dead-appearing bulbs in the earth. They had been taken up, all soil removed from the roots. They seemed utterly without life. I planted the amaryllis bulbs in pots in the dead of the winter, and now their trumpet-like blossoms are out in all their glory. Thus, my Darling, I see you -placed in your lonely tomb, but your now-happy spirit, no longer weary, no longer the victim of death is praising around God’s glittering throne. These trumpet-like flowers speak to me of the golden trumpet given you by the Father to worship Him perfectly whom you honored and worshipped here, often in weakness. There you sound forth His glory, and you will as long as Eternity endures.
Thinking thus, my heart is not so sad. I tell it not to hurt-you would not want it to hurt; you would point it above. But here it will yet sorrow, being earth-bound. Until I see you there Until I see you there Yes, I hope to join you, to behold again your dear face. And even more precious, together we shall look upon the face of our dear Savior. No, I will not see you there as my beloved husband, but we shall be as the angels. Our love will be pure, and freely given to all saints alike. It will not ever be marred by confusion or imperfect understanding as ever it must be in this life.
But until then, I need a husband here. I have a Husband here My dear Lord has promised to be a Husband to the widow. How many times I have attempted to comfort a poor widow by assuring her of the blessed fact that HE is her husband. Now I feel His presence, and the image of a widow loses its most sorrowful aspect. Though dear fleshly arms failed, His strong arm is underneath, and He can never fail He allowed the billows of sorrow to go only so far, then, lest they overwhelm me, He lifted me above their tumult by giving me a brief glimpse, as through a veil, of you there with Him, and my heart was at peace.
All through His word are promises to the widow. How tenderly He has placed them there for He knew of the loneliness of one bereft of a life-time companion. Meditating upon some of these precious promises, I no longer see the image of one utterly bereft, but of a character graciously, richly blessed by a loving, unfailing Husband. And like dear Hannah of old, I go about the duties and cares left to me here, with countenance no more sad. To be loved by such a Husband far outshines all the love and tenderness given by one, even as precious as my dear earthly husband was.
The three Editorials in this little sketch are good examples of my dear one’s ministry through the Old Faith Contender: Love to God and His people in the sad days of declension; his deep heart-longing for love and peace; his desire to see them return in humility to God, to once again see His people united in their mutual love; his gentle but firm rebukes of carnality, shown by division and strife; and his faithful warnings and pleadings to the present-day ministry.
He has told us of a vision passing before his eyes as he rested, fully awake. He saw God’s people wearing frowns and sorrowful countenances. They were coming toward Christ, whom he felt rather than saw nearby.
As they all gathered closely about Him, He spoke, and instantly all frowns were gone, and they melted together into one body. He told this to me through tears, saying, When we all come to Him, we will all be together.
Should the dear Lord give me length of days and the ability, I would like to write a book on his life, that others may see the man as I knew him: his struggles financially, physically, and against many obstacles placed before him by forces of evil; struggles against his own sense of unworthiness, and at times against discouragement. Added to these he struggled against debilitating disease. This even more rapidly took its toll in failing vision, nerve destruction, crystallizing arteries and great bodily weakness.
If it pleases God to give me the time and ability, I hope to select choice Editorials and prepare them for publication in a more concise and permanent form. There is an increased interest in his writings. Many are asking for old issues of the Old Faith Contender.
May it be the Lord’s will that though our dear one is gone, he yet speaks to us.
I have mentioned the Primitive Baptist Library my husband founded as one branch of his ministry to God’s people. The building of this library, and contributing the building site, was dear to his heart. It was the realization of a cherished dream. To this end he began collecting, at about the age of twenty-one, the writings of saints who had gone before. Realizing present-day dearth in the writings of the deep things of God, he was always searching, as one who is hungry searches for food, the then out-of-print works of the great men of our past.
Since he began this search, there has been a remarkable interest in the old Puritan works, in which the precious doctrine of God’s sovereign power, love and mercy are ably set forth.
His collection embraces a part of the 17th, 18th and 19th centuries. Many precious and rare volumes can be found only in this library.
After coming east it was sad to find how much of our past history had been and was being destroyed. The younger generation, in many cases, saw no value in their parents’ old books and other valuable records. Only in recent years, when there seems to be a growing interest in genealogy, there is an appreciation of historical background. Many who no doubt had not realized the value of the records kept by the older generation, now are seeking for their genealogy. They inquire of the library for this information. And though genealogy was not the primary purpose of the library, we are sometimes able to supply needed information.
The establishing of the Primitive Baptist Library, finally, fulfilled my husband’s anticipation to a large degree. Though he was not able, because of declining health, to fully organize and catalog the materials, they were in a good safe place and being preserved for those who will follow us.
He was able to accomplish much in repairing and rebinding many of the rare well-worn volumes. But this is an on-going task.
The continuation of cataloging and organizing the books, periodicals and numerous valuable records has kept me occupied since he was taken Home. It has been a joy to be able, though feeling keenly my inadequacy, to spend many pleasurable days and hours doing the work which he was unable to complete. It has brought him very near, as I have come upon his helpful notes here and there–as well as finding tears now and again.
When he was in such rapidly declining health, I very earnestly prayed to the dear Lord that I might be spared to care for him. Beyond this I could not then imagine a further purpose for my existence. But the gracious Lord not only granted my request, but He has added days and strength, to an amazing degree, that I continue on for a little longer in his labors.
Many have asked if the library is still in operation. Yes He had the foresight to place it under the care of faithful men, in a self-perpetuating trusteeship. Thus his faithful labor continues, I pray, for the edification of many who may rise up to carry it on.
Even so, dear Lord, let it be.
THE END