The Sword of the Lord

I read Andy Himes book, The Sword of the Lord: The Roots of Fundamentalism in an American Family, with great interest.This fascinating, searing and brutally honest memoir examines Christian fundamentalism through the lens of Andy’s family and his own life. It also considers the manner in which shifting personal and social contexts have the power to change how we view the fundamental truths that guide our lives.

Andy’s childhood definition of one fundamental truth began with a strong and vibrant Christian faith, practiced by his family, led by generations of charismatic Southern Baptist preachers, under the leadership of his grandfather, John R. Rice, a man widely recognized as the father of the American Christian fundamentalist movement.

This was a mighty, and mightily confusing legacy. A mentor to Billy Graham and Jerry Falwell, John R. Rice was also devoutly racist, and biblically justified in his beliefs.As a teen attuned to the social changes that accompanied the early 1960’s, Andy becamedisillusioned by the familiar but strict, unyielding and unwelcoming Christianity practiced by his family. For succor, he threw away all that he had learned as a child. He turned to atheistic and political fundamentalisms so extreme that his life and sanity were often in grave danger. Surviving these experiences has given him a degree of weariness and wisdom, finally leading him to a mature and accepting combination of the essential roles that must be played by forgiveness, family, and faith.Today, in his 60’s, Himes is a man who is no longer a fundamentalist, but one who knows that fundamental to his core values is his belief in God and understanding that social justice is essential to how he must live in the world.

Like Andy, I come from a long line - three generations - of Baptist ministers. I write books on African American Baptist belief and faith traditions. As it happens, I was amazed as I read The Sword of the Lord by more than the beauty of the writing, pain and redemption found in Andy’s story.There were assumptions that I made as an exceptionally informed reader and that he made as an extraordinarily detailed and well-researched writer that surprised me, that were just plain wrong in some cases, but neither of us knew this. For reasons that had entirely to do with the invisible ways that race can insert itself into the thought processes of progressive people. And race, in a less progressive world was, after all, an issue among many, that had led Andy away from his family’s exercise of faith in God.

This is what I noticed: In setting the premise for the early portion of the book, Andy mentioned famous Baptists, stating their importance to the faithful, the impact of their sermons and the many lives they had brought to Christ.With the exception of Billy Graham and Jerry Falwell, I had not heard of one of them, including Andy’s grandfather, John R. Rice (though I had in my youth been handed copies of Rice’s pamphlet, What Must I Do to be Saved?). Given that I am an “expert” on Baptists, I was at first (and simultaneously) perturbed, confused, angered and embarrassed by my ignorance about people pivotal to the history of my denomination.

I took a walk on the Cedar River on which I live, a lovely meditative place for me. And I figured it out. Every last one of the Baptists that Andy mentioned were white men. With the exception of the European and American founders of the denomination, the vast majority of my Baptist referents were black.Andy, most likely, was as unfamiliar with my famous Baptists as I was with his.While he had written in a wonderfully detailed manner that would teach those unfamiliar with Baptist history and traditions new information, he had assumed that all Baptists would know what he was talking about. Not the case.

Leading up to the Civil War, Baptists split over the issue of slavery. The Southern Baptist Convention formed in 1845 in support of slavery; Northern Baptists (now American Baptists) opposed slavery.1895 saw the formation of the National Baptist Convention, the denomination of black Baptists. Now I can be an American or a National Baptist, and I am both. But even though the Southern Baptists apologized for slavery in 1995, there are fewer black faces at theirs than at a Republican Convention. It has been said that the most segregated hour in America is at 11 a.m. on Sunday morning, when church services are held. It isn't surprising that I had no idea what Andy was talking about; because the denominations control their own publishing houses, Baptist worlds, even in how we learn our history, have divergent twains.

In addition to the recognition that race continued to insert itself into the historical reckonings of two enlightened people, I also found myself struggling with the any positive connotation of the term, fundamentalism. Black Christians are not fundamentalists. (Nor are those the abolitionistNorthern Baptists.) Fundamentalism tends to focus its theology on the afterlife and what must be done to get there.Black Christian theology likens us to Old Testament Jews trying to get to the Promised Land; this is a worthy goal for people who arrived as slaves, and lived through legislated oppression yet continue praise the God who brought us out of the wilderness. While the afterlife is a spiritual objective, black Christians focus on practical daily needs. Believing Jesus to have been a revolutionary force, our ministries are organized to help others as a way to create social equity. That equity is what creates the staircase to the afterlife.

This is an afterlife that Andy does not have to worry much about. He has dedicated his post-fundamentalist life in all of its varied forms to working for social justice. And he has written a brilliant and provacative book.I learned about generations of the Scots-Irish in America (from whom I descend), his family of origin, a separate and unequal Baptist history and Andy's life trajectory in ways that caused me to think in very unexpected and challenging ways.That reader’s journey is any writer’s dream.