In the 1880s, consonant with the custom of many in the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, the ministers and many laypersons in Daniel S. Warner’s Church of God Reformation Movement refused to wear neckties. Many believed them to be signs of the “superfluity of naughtiness” (James 1:21 KJV) or of sheer pride. Many, but not all. Warner and most of his cadre of preachers saw no evil in them but removed theirs simply because the sacrifice of the necktie to the cause of holiness and unity seemed small. Now, however, some of the saints urged the brethren to true consistency–they should dispose of shirt-collars as well (collars were detachable then). The brethren shucked their formal collars for the sake of holiness and unity only to find that perspiration and body oils which had once rubbed off on one’s detachable, washable shirt-collar now soiled and rubbed into and ruined one’s suit. So, the shirt-collar came back, though the necktie did not.
But problems never cease, for all could now see one’s collar button, which was usually brass, and brass looks like gold. All agreed that the Bible forbids the wearing of gold, an it advises that we avoid the very appearance of evil (I Peter 3:3; I Thess. 5:22). Only plain white buttons would do, said the critics. But buttons were costly, for they were made of bone in those days, and they were difficult to find. The answer was very high-cut vests. But, ironically, such modesty made its wearer look very much like a Roman Catholic priest, or at least like a Mennonite or Free Methodist preacher, each of whose sects Warner’s people felt called to reprove.
Little by little, and not without controversy, the brethren returned to wearing the neckties. By the mid-1920s, the circle was nearly completed.(2)
The return of the necktie did not mark any declension in the concern for those “superfluities of naughtiness.” That concern surged powerfully. But it did take a turn.
In earlier years, Wesleyan/Holiness people had expressed that concern in ways which included both male and female. Neckties were as fair game as feathered hats. But by the first decades of the twentieth century, while someone would now and again launch a broadside against the necktie or some other supposed sign of pride in male clothing, the really severe criticism fell on female dress. And pride, once the culprit, now became merely a culprit.
This happened because, sometime in the 1880s, Wesleyan/Holiness people began to believe that they had descried an even more insidious and pervasive foe than pride. By the 1910s, they were sure of it.
Increasingly, in the years between 1880 and 1920, Wesleyan/Holiness preachers did battle with the newly (re)discovered enemy, an they made its identity ever clearer by creating ever longer lists of its specific manifestations. So, for example, Opal Brookover writes in the Gospel Trumpet, the principal periodical of the Church of God Reformation Movement, in 1908: “What I wish to mention will more particularly concern the sisters, because it is regarding dress, and they have more temptations on this line than the brethren.”(3)
Wesleyan/Holiness people as a whole, in the period between the late 1860s and the late 1910s, shifted the rationale for certain of their behavioral rules and customs–even while retaining most of those rules and customs. They did this not because they had lost the passion to be holy. Rather, they did it because, in responding to changes in the culture (and to their location in it), they had re-defined some of the most critical elements in their theology. Most important were the nuances of the understandings of original sin/inherited depravity, and, by implication, entire sanctification.
More precisely, in the 1860s and 1870s, Wesleyan/Holiness people believed that original sin/inherited depravity characteristically manifests itself in “worldliness.” By the 1880s, they began to believe that the characteristic manifestation of original sin/inherited depravity is pride. By around 1900, the grassroots of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, if not its theologians, had come to believe that lust is that characteristic mark.
In each period, largely in response to their perceptions of cultural issues, Wesleyan/Holiness people tended to define sanctity in terms antipodal to the dominant characteristic of the given period’s perceived manifestation of original sin/inherited depravity. So, in the 1860s and 1870s, they usually defined sanctity as Christlikeness. In the 1880s they began to define it as entire consecration, or as absolute submission to the divine will, as obedience. By about 1900 the grassroots were defining sanctity most often in terms of (sexual) purity.(4)
This paper will trace this development as a case study in the ways in which cultural change affects doctrinal and behavioral or ethical change, even in a tradition which hopes to see to the transformation of culture but expresses that hope from a countercultural stance. More specifically, we will show how this development practically destroyed the commitment of the earlier Wesleyan/Holiness Movement to full equality and full rights, including the right to clerical ordination of the women among them.
The Wesleyan/Holiness Movement in North America(5) has consistently taught that Christian perfection is a gift of grace for this life, made possible by the atoning work of Jesus Christ. It believes that this gift is given instantaneously, subsequent to regeneration, and is received by faith. While the Movement has traditionally, and maddeningly, used its technical theological terms synechdochically and metonymically, the instantaneous initiation into this experience is properly denominated entire sanctification. It is popularly called “the second blessing.” Considered as a whole-i.e., as the instantaneous entry into the life of perfection and the continuing spiritual progression in it-the experience is referred to as “holiness.”
Holiness people believe that the gift of entire sanctification completely resolves the problem of original sin/inherited depravity in the already-justified believer. In the period covered by this paper, this resolution was usually referred to as a cleansing or, with some debate about the term, as an eradication. Holiness people have continually insisted that this religious experience does not entail intellectual, physical, moral or ethical perfection. Rather, they have insisted that the experience is a grace-given, grace-maintained perfection in love. It is an unconditional love of God and neighbor which is ever liable to flawed practical expression in this life. Therefore, restitution and correction, even rebuke and reproof, as well as begging for, receiving, and tendering forgiveness, are always in order. Maturation is to be expected.(6)
The dependence of this point of view upon the thought of John Wesley is quite obvious. And obvious, too, is the fact that, theologically, much depends upon the definitions of Christian perfection and original sin, with the latter’s corollary, inherited depravity. Their meanings are absolutely interdependent.
To maintain appropriate definitions, the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, in time, drew upon the mutations of Wesley’s thought developed by nineteenth-century Methodist theologians and revivalists, and upon ideas developed in New School Reformed revivalism, especially by Charles Finney and Asa Mahan.(7)
And by the 1910s the Movement had begun to develop its own theological resources, resources which sometimes stood at odds with that which had gained credence in the grassroots. So, what had evolved by the period of the Great War was a tension between those working with more formal theological categories and those working with more popular. On the eve of World War I, the more popular categories were clearly in the ascendancy, and thereby hangs our tale.
John Wesley had drawn up his doctrine of original sin/inherited depravity in conscious reaction to deism. The most dangerous aspect of deism, as Wesley saw it, was its denial of revelation, of even the need for revelation. So, in turning to Biblical declarations concerning human nature and the human condition, Wesley was quite deliberately refusing to aground his understanding of original sin/inherited depravity in empirical evidence or in reason. He asks questions in a manner quite sure to elicit responses contradictory to dogmae dearly loved by the Enlightenment: “Is man by nature filled with all evil? Is he wholly fallen? Is his soul totally corrupted? . . . is every imagination of the thoughts of his heart only evil continually?” And he harbors no doubt of the answers. Whatever the evidence from experience or reason, the Spirit, through the Bible, is the ultimate authority.(8)
As Wesley saw it, none of us is sufficiently moral that our goodness could be capitalized into salvation. In good Protestant form, Wesley declares that salvation is all of grace. But the fact that salvation is sola gratia, does not imply either a solely imputed righteousness nor what has been called “limited atonement.”
In his sermon, “The Scripture Way of Salvation,” Wesley makes clear his belief that our salvation involves imparted as well as imputed righteousness:
And at the same time that we are justified, yea, in that very moment, sanctificationbegins. In that instant we are “born again,” born from above,” “born of the Spirit.” There is a real as well as a relative change. We are inwardly renewed by the power of God. We feel the “love of God shed abroad in our heart by the Holy Ghost which is given unto us” . . . in a word, changing the “earthly, sensual, evilish” mind into “the mind which was in Christ Jesus.”(9)
On the implication of “limited atonement,” Wesley declared himself an Arminian.(10)
Wesley took up with Arminius at the point of Arminius’ doctrine of the universality of the atonement. His nineteenth-century American namesakes, no less convinced of the validity of that doctrine and also avowed Arminians, nonetheless turned first to Arminius’ understanding of divine justice, which implies his doctrine of free will. Arminius had argued that our ability to respond positively to the grace of God, though we are totally corrupt, is a gift of God’s justice, the same justice which holds us accountable for our sins. It is true justice, said Arminius, for God not only holds us accountable for our sins; God also provides a remedy for our sinful condition. Grace, in this case, operates through the divine justice.(11)
Wesley, on the other hand, kept strictly to the notion that any ability which we might have to respond to saving grace would have to be a gift of grace alone, not of grace working through or by or in some other divine characteristic or quality. And since all gifts of saving grace are ultimately consequences (“benefits”) of the atoning work of Christ, even our ability to choose or to reject salvation is precisely and essentially a benefit of the Atonement. It follows then that, since Christ died for all, all have been given this ability, though, of course, all do not exercise it in the same way or to the same effect.(12)
Wesley developed his behavioral rules, then, as a means of expressing positive response to grace. And to be sure that he included all who might be responding—seekers after salvation, the converted but not sanctified, the sanctified, and those reluctant to define precisely their state of grace-he stated the role of the rules in terms of the Methodist society’s least common denominator: they are for those “who desire to flee from the wrath to come, to be saved from their sins.”(13)
As Wesley saw it, these rules have no special function for the entirely sanctified that they do not have for all others. Entire sanctification is grounded in grace and in the Atonement, not in human freedom nor in the exercise of free will nor in good works.(14)
Wesley believed that the behavioral dimension of entire sanctification should be determined and judged altogether in terms of what grace has wrought, not in terms of some human activity having (or not having) taken place. For him, the basic question is this: “Is the Love of God ‘shed abroad in our hearts’? Is it this for which this or that is done or not done?” So it is that deeds and words and thoughts in themselves harmful might not be accounted against one as sin, and deeds and words and thoughts in themselves good might be accounted against one as sin. While behaviors manifest desire, they are neither means of attaining nor means of maintaining grace, especially not saving, sanctifying grace.(15)
Wesley’s thought lay in the background, at the foundation of Wesleyan/Holiness Movement theological understandings and commitments. Those of its leaders who were Methodists or had Methodist roots never thought of themselves as anything but orthodox Wesleyans and therefore orthodox Christians.(16)
But true to commonly received Methodist theology, they did not see, as much of Methodism itself did not then see, the differences among their own theologians and the differences between their theologians and Wesley.(17)
This blindness would have critical consequences, specifically at the point that Methodists began to debate the doctrine and experience of entire sanctification and the ethic which this doctrine and experience entailed. Earlier differences in understanding of original sin/inherited depravity especially, when compounded by differences in theological method, led to vast incompatibilities and contradictions by the late 1890s. and all of this fell under the influence of radical cultural changes, which added further frustration and confusion.(18)
From c. 1860 to c. 1880: Worldliness Vs. Christlikeness
In the earliest days of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, until the 1880s, most holiness people, following the “standard” Methodist theologians, agreed that original sin/inherited depravity involves both deprivation and depravation, with the emphasis falling upon the latter.(19) In the human character, deprived of the saving presence of the Holy Spirit, original sin/inherited depravity is active, aggressive, and intelligent in its manifestation, and in its own way it is sovereign. It is actually an anti-Holy Spirit, a spiritual counterpole and counterfeit, as it were. That is to say, it may express itself through means and modes which at least superficially seem attributable to the Holy Sprit, but their root is in our fallenness and their end is to continue the rebellion against God.(20)
Understanding original sin/inherited depravity as dynamic and positive—Adam Clarke, following Wesley, called it “a contagion . . . the grand hidden cause of all transgression”(21) —tended to make it difficult to identify any particular behavior as a clear manifestation of its activity or presence. Nonetheless, the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement believed that the basic character of the contagion was usually readily detectible in thoughts, words, and actions. These world evince a certain essential compatibility with the world, a certain lack of “spirituality.” They would evince a spirit clearly opposed to the sanctifying grace of the Holy Spirit.(22)
So, any such evidence of original sin/inherited depravity could be called “worldliness,” and this understanding of the matter did allow for some cataloguing of behaviors acceptable and unacceptable.(23)
The actual list of do’s and don’t's upon which the holiness people agreed differed little from the lists of many Protestants of that era. It especially resembled the lists of those affected by revivalism. In fact, the Methodists in the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement simply took as their ethical basis the “General Rules” of the Discipline. They differed from their non-Holiness Movement Methodist compatriots only in their greater strictness in keeping those rules and in their willingness to follow them out to logical (not to say legalistic) behavioral conclusions.(24)
Further, the holiness people seem to have assumed, as the Methodist Discipline certainly assumed, that behaviors prohibited are prohibited to both the justified and the entirely sanctified and that behaviors commended are behaviors commended to both those Christians who have not “attained unto holiness” and the entirely sanctified.(25)
But by the 1880s, Wesleyan/Holiness people were asking themselves whether those who were “saved” but not yet “sanctified” were obligated to keep the same behavioral rules as those sanctified. Some even asked whether the merely saved even could keep those rules.(26)
After all, if “worldliness” be the expression of original sin/inherited depravity, and if original sin/inherited depravity be destroyed in the entirely sanctified but not in the “merely” saved, then one should not expect the same level of behavioral purity of the “merely” saved as of the entirely sanctified.(27)
The idea that “worldliness” is the expression of original sin/inherited depravity reflected the common understanding that Christlikeness defines the character of the entirely sanctified.(28)
But by the 1870s, if not earlier, Wesleyan/Holiness people were using pneumatological language to put the case for the this-life possibility and reality of the experience of entire sanctification. The fact that the “result” was christological was lost in the great cloud of pneumatological descriptions of the process of getting there.
Fallen human nature, deprived of the sanctifying presence of the Holy Spirit, is hag-ridden by an active, aggressive, intelligent “sin principle” (which bore many names). This sin principle dynamically contradicts the influence of the Holy Spirit. It is in the power of the Evil One and is therefore profoundly profane or worldly. So, “worldliness” defines the character of the unsanctified. But the term applied as much to the inner bent or propensity as to deeds and words.(29)
In fact, it was firmly held that good deeds and good words could arise from a “worldly” character, albeit their intention would not be good in any Christian sense of the term; and it was understood that harmful deeds and words could come from a Christlike character, unintentionally.(30)
This behaviorally vague definition of the character of original sin/inherited depravity, and its implied opposite, purity or sanctity, did not satisfy the early holiness people. In responding to their theological opponents, they came to agree, in part, with an ethical point made by those opponents: entire sanctification must have behavioral consequences and these consequences must be at least quantitatively, if not qualitatively, different from those issuing from justification alone.(31)
This conviction, as it came to maturation (or at least as it came to gain general consensus), necessitated a “paradigm shift” with respect to the doctrine of original sin/inherited depravity and the notion of sanctity.
One can see the most striking example of this shift in Samuel Wakefield’s Complete System of Christian Theology, which was printed in the Civil War year of 1862.(32)
Wakefield originally intended only to abridge in his own words Watson’s Theological Institutes, which had appeared in their first American edition in 1825—published by the Methodist Episcopal Church. Instead, he built his own “system” around Watson, while clearly showing the influence of American Methodism’s generation-long tussle with Calvinism, especially New School Calvinism (a tussle barely begun when Watson’s work had first appeared in the United States), and its even longer involvement in revivalism.(33) In particular, precisely at the point of Watson’s doctrine of original sin/inherited depravity, Wakefield the abridger becomes Wakefield the American Methodist theologian. Watson had placed his chapter on original sin between his chapters on the Holy Spirit and redemption. Wakefield, levying Watson heavily in his own section on original sin, nonetheless puts that section between his sections on creation and divine providence and the sections on “Man’s Moral Agency.”(34)
In his section on original sin, Wakefield is especially concerned to meet four objections to the doctrine which were current in the mid-nineteenth-century: first, that the human fall cannot be reconciled with the divine goodness if we can assure that God foresaw it; second, that the command which Adam and Eve disobeyed was arbitrary and petty; third, that if the serpent was simply an instrument of Satan, its punishment was unjust; and fourth, that the punishment for disobedience was out of proportion to the “crime.” In each case except the third, Wakefield responds with reference to human free moral agency. This throws great emphasis on willful human complicity in manifesting original sin, which, in turn, moves Wakefield away from talk of “worldliness” to talk of pride as the quintessential expression of that sinful state.(35)
And rather than defining entire sanctification first and foremost in terms of love to God and neighbor, as Wesley and his British successors do, and as antebellum North American Methodists at least tended to do, Wakefield immediately defines it as “an entire conformity of heart and life to the will of God, as made known to us in his word.”(36)
In fact, in his section on entire sanctification, Wakefield makes no reference at all to passages absolutely critical to Wesley’s understanding of entire sanctification such as Matthew 22:37-40.
It is not that Wakefield was no connection between love and entire sanctification. He simply brought his understanding of the doctrine, including his understanding of the place of love within it, under the rubric of uncoerced (or unpredestined) obedience or conformity to the divine will. As he later shows, he understands even love to God and neighbor to be expressions of conformity to the divine will, not vice versa.(37)
As has been noted above, Wakefield understands original sin to be behaviorally manifested in pride. “But then,” we may ask him, “what may we expect of those in whom such pride has been destroyed-i.e., those enjoying entire sanctification?” At first glance, Wakefield appears to respond in terms proposed by Watson, his model. Both write of the duties of the Christian toward God and neighbor, and both write at length about worship, prayer, and sabbath-keeping, justice and mercy. But where Watson clearly grounds his list of duties in a love made possible by Christ’s atoning work,(38)
Wakefield grounds his in obedience to the law of God, in submission of our will to the will of God.(39)
This enables Wakefield to be much more specific and detailed than Watson can be concerning the manifestations of pride and (conversely) entire sanctification.(40)
Not only are anger, hatred, revenge, implacability, censoriousness, evil-speaking and adventitious distinctions proscribed, so also are duels, suicide, gambling (including lotteries), and interference with property rights or liberty (including interference with freedom of the press and of speech). Positively, Wakefield enjoins such attitudes and behaviors as patriotism, obedience to civil law, paying taxes and other imposts, and respecting and praying for rulers.(41)
In Wakefield, then, we have a striking example of a departure from Wesley and Wesley’s British and earlier American theological successors on the matter of the definition of sanctity. For Wakefield, it is obedience; for Wesley and his British and earlier American successors, love. Not that either would have denied the other’s definition. For Wakefield, grace-given love is of the very nature of true sanctity, but it is given in response to obedience and it expresses itself in obedience; Wesley and company would have love governing obedience.(42)
Wakefield saw entire sanctification as the antidote to pride and he saw pride as the self-will which refuses to submit to the divine will; Wesley and his more nearly immediate explicators, such as Watson, saw and would see entire sanctification as the antidote to self-love.(43)
Here was the nuance which opened the door to and shaped such phenomena as the Necktie Controversy and struggles over the wearing of bright-colored clothing, and gold in any form, including wedding rings and even gold-rimmed eyeglasses. Among Wesleyan/Holiness people, the positive appreciation for behavioral rules which characterized revival-influenced American Protestantism in general and Methodism in particular now, in the 1860s and 1870s, became a passion. Of the making of rules and of debates over them there was no end in the generation from the “founding” of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement in 1867 to about 1900.(44)
While the terms “worldly’ and “worldliness” still impolied condemnation, Wesleyan/Holiness people increasingly used them now to refer to activities and things seen, decreasingly to refer to a basic bent of spirit. Instead, they now referred to that bent of spirit as “pride.” And all-worldliness, as well as the “bent” (pride), and sanctity-was thought now to be measurable. So the rules opposed “worldliness” and “pride,” and their keeping was at least a putative sign of sanctity. By keeping them, the sanctified manifested the destruction of sinful pride, and sanctified leadership used them to curtail the expression and increase of pride among the justified not yet sanctified. And sanctified leadership also used them to heighten the sense of the need for entire sanctification.(45)
The rules which were developed by the holiness people in the period from 1867 to about 1885 express precisely that perspective, though older rules were neither dropped nor modified. Conspicuous among the newer rules were those prohibiting any kind of ostentation in dress, in manner, in possessions, and even in church architecture and worship. Holiness people were to be the plainest of “plain people.”
This created considerable legalism and fanaticism, which many Wesleyan/Holiness leaders early recognized as a special problem in their Movement. They steadily worked against such attitudes, knowing quite well that much of it was caricature and that over-zealous piety could actually engender pride. They also knew the tendency of that sort of pride to run to excess.
However, by 1880, still another shift in the understanding of original sin/inherited depravity, and thus of sanctity, was underway-one which would narrow the definitions of both among the grassroots. By about 1900, it bore clear and well-developed implications for behavior.
From c. 1880 to c. 1900: Pride Vs. Submission
Wakefield and his American contemporaries had profoundly modified the position of Wesley and the earliest British Wesleyan theologians with respect to the doctrine of original sin/inherited depravity by reversing the categories of the older theological system and by making free will instead of unlimited atonement (free grace) the governing doctrine. Still, they had kept much of the language of Wesley and his early disciples and they too had looked to Arminius for their doctrine of free will. But by about 1880, early Remonstrants such as Stephanus Curcellanaeus (1586-1659) and Philip von Limborch (1633-1702) had largely replaced Arminius in the Movement’s explication, description, and analysis of the implications of original sin/inherited depravity. This shift in foundation seriously affected the doctrine of entire sanctification, of course. American Methodism, including the Holiness Movement, thus took another long step away from the thought of its original theologians, though not without their (unwitting) complicity.
A representative Methodist theologian for the period, one who shows the shift and one important to the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, was Miner Raymond (1811-1897). Raymond, who taught at Garrett Biblical Institute in 1877-1897, published a three-volume systematic theology which he believed to be throughly Wesleyan. In fact, on the matter of original sin/inherited depravity and, by implication, on the definition of sanctity, it does not align well with what had been called Wesleyan to that time.
Raymond’s sections on the Fall and original sin come between chapters on the “government of God” and original righteousness and his section on soteriology.(46) While he does not neglect the significance of the atonement to the discussion of original sin/inherited depravity, the doctrine of free will or “moral agency” plays a controlling role.(47) The distinctive expression of original sin/inherited depravity is understood to be pride, usually described in terms of self-will or willfulness.
With this as the controlling category, the behavioral rules are (again) augmented and there is a subtle change in the rationale for making and keeping them. As long as the idea of the atonement held a large role in defining original sin and its effects–and in defining the possibilities of gracious release from them-the opposite of pride was taken to be humility or Christlikeness. But now that self-will or willfulness had become near-synonyms for pride, rules concerning apparel and appearance tended to lose their character as means of witnessing to a cleansing of the heart from what was by now commonly called “inbred sin.” Rather, rules were now matters of discipline; keeping them meant giving witness to the fact that one had submitted one’s will to God and to the community of faith. Submission to discipline was now the fundamental proof that pride had been rooted out.
Organizations having the propagation of the doctrine and experience of entire sanctification as their reason for being proliferated in this period, and in their rejection of institutional administrative (usually Methodist Episcopal) discipline they often took up “spiritual” discipline as the superior cause. The Church of God Reformation Movement, which was concentrated in Indiana, Ohio, and West Virginia; and the Independent Holiness People, concentrated in Missouri, Kansas, and southern Iowa, stand at one end of a spectrum as striking examples of this phenomenon. These branches of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement were home to some of its most Tertullianesque folk, and they were the Movement’s most vocal critics of any but radical congregational polity. Each related both to its concern for holiness and the doctrine and experience of entire sanctification.
The point of it all was the war on pride. One wanted to give expression to submission to spiritual discipline, for that was proof that sinful pride had been eradicated, that the “bent to sinning” had been “taken away,” that he “old man” had been destroyed. Not that the Holiness Movement had neglected the theme earlier. It had not. In fact, revivalistic Protestantism at large had given attention to it, and Methodism had usually led the way. But now, in the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, it came to define sanctity.
Theologically, the new or renewed emphasis on submission to spiritual discipline as the sign of the destruction of original sin found especially significant and influential support in the teachings of the generation which had passed off the scene by the 1880s, in Phoebe Palmer and her associates and followers particularly.(48) But they found that support by reading their predecessors’ works in ways that may not originally have been intended.
Unlike Wesley and those theologians who followed a strictly Protestant paradigm in insisting that the experience of entire sanctification is strictly a work of grace received by the gift of faith, Mrs. Palmer had spoken of the need to consecrate oneself in preparation for receiving the experience. By this, she seems to have meant nothing more than that the believer must deliberately exercise the gift of faith by holding back nothing at all from divine possession, and open him/herself to sanctifying grace.(49) But in time, many took this teaching in an entirely disciplinary sense and understood consecration as submission in a way that tended to make entire sanctification the consequence of the destruction of original sin (pride) rather than understanding entire sanctification as the very destruction itself.(50) This, in turn, led to widespread preaching on submission to spiritual discipline as the way into the experience. “Entire consecration” became the necessary door to entire sanctification.(51)
And now the Wesleyan/Holiness people began to create a whole new range of behavioral rules, based on those already listed in the Methodist Episcopal Discipline(s) (both North and South). “Entire” consecration had come to mean “consecration of life in detail.”(52) In about fifty years, the Wesleyan/Holiness people had moved from seeing the life of Christian perfection as a life of love manifesting itself in attitudes as well as deeds and disciplines, with due recognition that inconsistencies in behavior are not necessarily evidences of inconsistency or inconstancy in love, to seeing the life of Christian perfection as the product or consequence of a life of consistency-seeking discipline.
Perhaps no work demonstrates this more clearly than J. A. Wood’s Perfect Love, a book first published in 1861, which became a vade mecum of Wesleyan/Holiness people for a century or more.(53) Wood wrote Perfect Love as much for the entirely sanctified as for the unsanctified, so it is as much didactic, and corrective, as it is apologetic. Its very title deliberately reflects the older Methodist understanding of holiness and reminded Wesleyan/Holiness people of a fundamental aspect of their distinguishing tenet which they tended to neglect. At the same time, however, Wood’s descriptions of how one enters the experience of entire sanctification and how one retains it tend to make entire consecration the one necessary means to both and to preach the gospel of consistency in discipline.(54)
The conditions of retaining perfect love . . . are the same as those by which it was obtained; namely, a complete submission of the soul to God, and simple faith in Christ for present salvation. This submission and faith, graduated by increasing light and grace, must continue through life if perfect love be retained.(55)
Wood is not as explicit as many of his contemporaries were in listing disciplinary rules. His standard device was to appeal to the Pauline admonition to abstain from all appearance of evil (I Thess. 5:22). But it is clear that he did this intending wide and strict application of the Apostle’s word. He has not at all forgotten the behavioral and attitudinal catalogue.(56) It surfaces several times inPerfect Love, in most detail at the close of the work where Wood raises several questions: “Is it proper for Christians to be governed by the laws of fashion?” “Are worldly amusements sinful?” “Are Fairs, Festivals, Tableaux, or Theatricals proper means of raising money for church purposes?”(57) So, Wood’s appeal to Scripture is not a signal of disciplinary vagueness nor of a concern to leave such matters to individual consciences. And it is certainly not an expression of some kind of diplomacy.
Methodists in particular and revival-influenced Protestants in general had been “plain people” from the beginning in matters of apparel. Wesley himself had preached often upon the topic. Expensive or “fancy” clothes do bad things to us, he said. They engender or increase pride; they breed and increase vanity; they tend to “beget anger, and every turbulent and uneasy passion”; they tend to “create and inflame lust”; and they tend to cause us to neglect the cultivating of “the mind of Christ”; and further, their cost prohibits the doing of good works and giving to the poor.(58)
Some sixty years after Wesley’s death and for the next twenty years, Phoebe Palmer, the teacher of so many in the early Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, spoke and wrote often and sharply to the “dress question.” With Wesley, she believed that the Bible opposed the wearing of costly and fancy array, and, like Wesley, she believed that it testified to pride and poor stewardship. But in Palmer’s writings, we see the earliest adumbrations of the disciplinary theme which the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement would emphasize in its campaign against worldliness: she insisted that the wearing of costly and fancy clothing and jewelry, once one knows of the Biblical injunctions, is conscious rebellion against God and the Biblical word and that it therefore puts one in danger of losing one’s soul. We must submit to the Biblical word, she insisted; such submission is the very heart of true sanctity.(59) And, as early as 1868, Phoebe Palmer, as a leader among others, was identifying the desire for “amusements,” among which she includes theater attendance and the reading of novels, as a manifestation of original sin.(60) Enter the experience of entire sanctification, she says, and the yen for such amusements will be washed away.(61)
Methodists and other Protestants had fretted over such matters at least since the earliest days of frontier revivals. But after the Civil War, so it seemed to many (especially to many now identifying with the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement), northern Methodism, at least, had given up the struggle. So what had in ante-bellum days evoked an occasional sermon or editorial addressed to all pious persons now became a near-preoccupation of the holiness folk. As they looked about them, they were tempted to believe that they were the only ones seriously committed to the disciplinary list-and with some good reason.
By the 1880s, amusements joined fashionable dress, conspicuous consumption (as we now call it), elaborate ritual, expensive church buildings, and “sabbath-breaking” as behaviors which put one’s soul in jeopardy.(62) But as the list grew, the proportion of Christians who took it seriously shrank. And the conviction grew among holiness people that the decreasing interest in spiritual discipline and the decreasing interest in entire sanctification, and the increasing signs of material prosperity, advancement in social standing, and cultural accommodation, were of a piece.(63) So they carried the battle into the church itself, fighting on both the behavioral and doctrinal fronts with their own brothers and sisters in the faith. More and more, the behavioral list took on a clearly counter-cultural appearance. And more and more, it appeared to be aimed at (presumed) self-indulgence among Christians themselves.In effect, another step had been taken in the re-definition of original sin/inherited depravity. If by the 1880s sanctity had come to be defined as submission to spiritual discipline as entire sanctification had come to be defined primarily as entire submission or entire consecration-original sin/inherited depravity had now come commonly to be called the “carnal nature,” the “carnal mind,” or even “the old man” (following Romans 6:6).(64)
This redefinition occurred at precisely the time that the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement began to run afoul of Episcopal Methodism’s machinery, primarily on two specific issues: the refusal of its Methodist Episcopal evangelists to secure proper clearance (either by courtesy, custom, or church law) before holding holiness revival meetings here and there; and the vigor with which the Methodist editors of the Movement’s independent papers took to sanctified muckraking. The un-cleared meetings sometimes embarrassed local Methodist pastors and leaders (sometimes intentionally); and the independent “rags” seemed often to smack of the newly popular “yellow journalism,” with all that such an identification implied concerning social status and political stances.
Two radical Methodist denominations, the Wesleyan Methodist Connection and the Free Methodist Church, already identified with the Movement; and now numbers of other holiness people began to organize themselves into additional denominations and other bodies. Most holiness people felt compelled to say that they were not “come-outers”; they insisted that they had been chased off. They were “pushed-outers.” And “carnality” in the mainline churches (especially in the two Methodist Episcopal churches) was what had pushed them out.
This view of events gave “carnality” a sharp empirical definition that it might not otherwise have had. “Carnality” was what those wealthier Methodists and their social-climbing imitators and admirers, including all too many clergy, were doing (or not doing).(65)
Of course, the Wesleyan/Holiness people did not confine their battle with sin to sin in the church. They took on “the world” through deep involvement in attempts to resolve some of the social issues of that era and in the development of “foreign missions” from both evangelistic and philanthropic directions. And they engaged in such activities precisely because of their theology.(66) But on these fronts, they saw the need for conversion, not “carnality,” as the immediate problem. Theologically, they linked “carnality” with the matter of sanctification, not with justification or conversion, so individualized had their definition of sanctification become.(67)
The denominationalizing process also affected the battle against sin in the body politic at home and on “foreign” fields, which, in turn, added another dimension to the alterations in the definitions of original sin/inherited depravity and (thus) of sanctity. And here lay the seeds of that which in later years would grow almost to the point of choking out some venerable and valuable sources of vitality in the Movement, especially (in keeping with the concern of this paper) the full and free participation of women in every aspect of the Movement’s life.
For one thing, in the press to denominationalize (holiness people called it “organizing holiness”), the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement tended to cut itself off from sources of broad theological reflection and to rest content with propagating well its one doctrinal specialty: “second-blessing holiness.”(68) As long as the National Campmeeting Association for the Promotion of Holiness (NCAPH) served as the rallying body for the Movement, it had a theologically well-educated leadership, by late nineteenth-century standards. That leadership had at least come through the rigors of the official Methodist Episcopal courses of study, and most of the Association’s evangelists had far more education than that. Further, most of the Association’s preachers held, or had held, pastoral charges that demanded an educated ministry.(69) But as the Movement organized, the relationship to NCAPH slowly but surely weakened, not least because NCAPH admitted none but Methodist preachers in good denominational (they would have said “connectional”) standing into its membership until well after 1900.(70) The Movement could still count among its pre-World War I leaders a majority with more than minimal theological education and sensitivity, but from about 1890 to the early 1920s, at least, the proportion of persons in the ministry of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement which could claim more than minimal theological education dropped ever farther away from what it had been before the Movement had begun forming denominations and other bodies in earnest.(71)
Moreover, the new denominations and other groups tended to call on those who were better educated or who had broader perspectives to give themselves over to holiness evangelism and to administration. Broader theological perspectives and concerns lay nearly neglected for want of time and energy on the part of the able and for want of interest on the part of the Movement at large.(72) At the same time, a large and growing phalanx of holiness evangelists, traveling widely (many of the railroad companies offered free travel passes to clergy) and preaching day after day and night after night, came to shape the perspective of holiness people in matters of sanctified living every bit as deeply as the Movement’s recognized leaders (and pastors) were doing.(73)
A significant proportion of these evangelists had not obtained formal higher education.(74) And as the proportion of holiness pastors which had such education dropped, evangelists increasingly burlesqued it. By the 1910s, such burlesquing was common. They measured their success, as their hearers measured it for them, by their skill in convincing persons to seek and obtain “the second blessing” and by the wit with which they defended it and by little else.(75) In fact, many believed that preaching “the second blessing” was a general spiritual curative-that it would encourage the unconverted to conversion, backsliders to repentance, and entirely sanctified folk to higher plains of holy living.(76) So, holiness people in general were encouraged to focus narrowly, and what had been a doctrinal “specialty” in the pre-denominational days now became the whole gospel in fact, though in theory it certainly was not. A certain classical orthodoxy was assumed, and assumed to be necessary and appropriate, concerning the essential rubrics of Christian faith, such as trinity, christology, atonement, etc. And Wesleyan/Holiness people took this orthodoxy to be of the esse of the faith, and not simply of its bene esse; but this classical orthodoxy took no major role in the preaching and teaching of the majority of holiness preachers and teachers.(77)
At the same time that holiness people were practically narrowing their theological concern in the interests of denomination-formation, they faced what they took to be a very dangerous enemy-dangerous because it bore some strong theological affinities to the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement.(78) The new enemy was Pentecostalism, and one point at which this enemy affected the theology of the Movement was precisely that of the notion of sanctity.
Pentecostals emphasized the aspect of spiritual power in their definitions and descriptions of the work of the Holy Spirit in believers. Wesleyan/Holiness preachers, who had said much about such power in the period prior to the rise of Pentecostalism, now made it clear that they had always insisted that “cleansing” (from “inbred sin” or from “the carnal nature”), not power, is thefundamental characteristic of the sanctifying work of the Spirit.(79) Spiritual power was still a desideratum among the holiness people, but they severely criticized the Pentecostals for seeking a gift rather than the Giver of all spiritual gifts. Sanctity, for the Pentecostals, said the holiness preachers, is a matter of external demonstrations of what they call spiritual power-speaking in unknown tongues being the principal demonstration. For us holiness people, they said, sanctity is living a clean, pure, holy life.(80) These developments-the practical narrowing of the theological concern of the holiness people to an almost exclusive attention to their distinguishing tenet as it was presented in fervent, often inadequately informed, evangelism, and their opposition to the Pentecostals-threw much of the weight of holiness preaching and reflection on considerations of “carnality.” And, as has been noted, advocates of Wesleyan/Holiness had come to define “carnality” primarily in terms of the behaviors of those in their former churches who, as they saw it, resisted or ignored the holiness message.(81)
Especially obvious as carnal to these believers were attendance at theaters and dances and concern with fashion among the women. In fact, a change then underway in the thinking of young women, both within and outside of the churches, made such behaviors topics of lively conversation throughout the whole culture.(82)
From c. 1900 to c. 1920: Lust Vs. Purity
Amusements and dress had long been issues for holiness people, as we have seen. But almost suddenly, about 1900, a veritable revolution had broken out which made them issues in the entire country-in fact, in the entire English-speaking world. In the United States, educated young middle class women, Christian or no, seemed almost suddenly to attack directly the notion of self-denial, especially as it had been defined as humility, obedience, and self-sacrifice in the interests of husband and family, and especially as it had been enforced in terms of amusements and dress.(83)On its positive side, this “women’s movement,” as it was called, emphasized “self-development.”(84)
This phenomenon made for severe tensions in most of the older denominations, at least in their urban congregations and administrative structures, for by now they had committed almost two generations to the process of embourgoisement and had largely completed the task. And they had generally supported those women who had taken up the moral politics of progressivism in the 1890s.(85) Being “behind the times” appalled them on theological grounds, for it hindered the march to the millennial kingdom.(86) And the notion of “self-development” fit perfectly the various theories of progress which now filled the air and had generally been reconciled (so thought many) with the Biblical message.(87)
But the popular public symbols of this new revolution boded ill. They seemed to contradict, not to extend or develop, the values only recently fully adopted and adapted. Embourgoisement was threatened, and it was being threatened by the daughters and granddaughters of those who had made it their earthly hope and cause. How to respond?
Gradually, the older denominations attempted to christen the popular public symbols-to hold “theatricals” and to sponsor dances and fashion shows-in an attempt to retain their own and to evangelize. Consequently, they found themselves countenancing, even sponsoring, that which they had formerly condemned, while at the same time (so it seemed to the holiness people) they shoved aside, or even cast out, the truly pious.(88)
The Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, now (i.e., c. 1900) denominationalizing rapidly, clearly felt compelled to respond to this turn-of-the-century women’s movement, but it found itself in an unusual position. It had traditionally taken a liberal (or at least relatively liberal) stance with respect to the role of women in religion and in society, a stance more liberal than those of most of the denominations from which its original leadership had come.(89) But it tended to regard this new women’s movement quite unfavorably. The public symbols of the new women’s movement’s were all wrong and it seemed all too obvious that it was seeking to destroy whatever spirituality the “old-line” churches might still have.
The themes of “self-development” and “self-assertion,” as the early twentieth-century women’s movement developed them, set as they were (for the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement) in the context of the struggle with Pentecostalism over the meaning of “spiritual power,” hit a sour note among holiness people.(90) The Wesleyan/Holiness Movement had long since learned to preach absolute submission to the will of God and “entire consecration” in ways which encouraged freedom and creativity and consequently it had developed a blind spot where it might have seen how a culture, or dominant persons or groups within a culture, had used such themes as instruments of subjugation, especially the subjugation of the poor and of minorities and of women.(91) It appears that the doctrine of entire sanctification was only rarely used consciously or deliberately as a tool for gaining or retaining institutional or personal power at the expense of the rights of others, though, of course, we have few ways of really knowing this. But the very structures of the holiness bodies testified to their concern along these lines-they were deliberately democratized.(92) So, holiness people had difficulty hearing the notions of “self-development” and “self-assertion” as cries for female freedom, which they were. Or, if they did hear them thus, they tended to wonder what all of the fuss was about.(93) What most holiness people heard in those notions instead were self-centeredness and pride. That is to say, they heard such themes as “self-development” being touted in terms that made them the precise antitheses to their doctrine of entire sanctification; they heard them as expressions of the very disease which their medicine would cure.(94) And here, unfortunately, the symbols chosen by “new” women to express themselves only exacerbated the blindness and deafness of the holiness people. those symbols did not speak to holiness folk of freedom but of bondage to sin and of “carnality.”(95) They were behaviors which the Movement had condemned long before anyone had conceived of them as signs of self-assertion or self-development. For the church to countenance them in any way seemed to the sanctified to be unconscionable.
The response of the Wesleyan/Holiness people to the newer women’s movement, and to the churches which had opened themselves to accepting its public symbols and popular vocabulary, was to redouble the attack on carnality and to leave no uncertainty as to what constituted it. This brought almost the entire weight of practical “holiness” preaching to bear on precisely those behaviors which the women’s movement utilized as public symbols of their freedom. Theater attendance, dancing, and interest in being fashionable, which had always been targets for holiness preachers, now took continuous bombardment, but with this difference: before about 1895, they had been targets primarily because they encouraged the squandering of time and money. Now they were targets primarily because they were believed to endanger morality, both male and female. But, more critically, holiness people believed that they encouraged exploitation of and by women as no other activities and interests ever had.(96) Now, even smoking and drinking, formerly eschewed simply because of what they did to one’s health, social relationships, and budget, took on the opprobrium of sexual seduction-an advertising innuendo that the holiness people did not let go uncommented.(97)
The Wesleyan/Holiness Movement had not meant to oppose the early twentieth-century women’s movement as such. In fact, holiness people had positively and actively supported its late nineteenth-century predecessor and continued to support those causes earlier taken up which had not yet met their goals.(98) But, whatever the convictions of the holiness people toward the fundamental intentions and goals of the women’s movement as it developed in the early twentieth century (and they seem to have been largely positive), they often found themselves unable to accept some of the most important public symbols and the popular self-descriptive vocabulary of that movement as they had developed by the 1910s. Those symbols and that vocabulary simply cut cross-grain of the personal behavioral ethic long since adopted by holiness people. Further, that ethic, now that its practitioners had decided to form denominations, not only defined sanctity on a personal level, it also served to identify those denominations behaviorally and to aid in making clear apologias for their refusals to remain with the older religious bodies.(99) An ethic once designed by holiness people as a means of keeping the attention of the sanctified and those “going on to perfection’ on that which makes for “perfect love” now became a means of sectarian identity. And, in the process, that ethic went a significant distance in the direction of oppressing women.
Of signal importance in all of this was the rather common belief that the principal expression of original sin/inherited depravity is lust. Concupiscence had not replaced self-will, pride, or worldliness where the quintessential expressions of original sin are listed in the lexicon of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, but it was now the dominating motif.(100) Only pride could claim anything like nearly equal attention.
In part, the elevation of concupiscence, as it were, seems to have come about in consequence of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement’s renewed emphasis on entire sanctification as a cleansing, as over against the Pentecostals’ emphasis on power. The natural question was, “Cleansing from what?” The Biblical response which almost habitually fell from the tongues of holiness people was from Ezekiel 30:25-29, a favorite holiness prooftext used by Wesley himself: “. . . from all your filthiness.” And not far behind in frequency of reference were such passages as: Ezekiel 37:23-”Neither shall they defile themselves anymore with their idols, nor with their detestable things, nor with any of their transgressions; but I . . . will cleanse them . . .”; and Ephesians 5:26, “. . . that he might sanctify and cleanse it (i.e., the Church-believers) by the washing of water by the word,” a passage which is set in the context of an essay on purity of marriage.(101)
Further, the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, like early Wesleyanism in general, had tended to gravitate more toward the Johannine than the Pauline literature of the New Testament. In the 1910s, sermons and comments on such passages as I John 2:15-17, especially 2:16 (“For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world”) became noticeably popular.(102) And added to this was an exponential increase in conservative Protestant preachments in the 1910s declaring the United States to have become a Sodom.(103)
Whether or not the now commonly cited Biblical passages had originally intended to relay a fundamental preoccupation with sensuality and sexuality, cultural change in the nation in the first two decades of the twentieth century had almost guaranteed that their exegetes would find such a preoccupation there. To cite but two elements in the culture which before 1900 had almost no cultural influence, but which, between about 1900 and 1920 took dominant roles in shaping American mores, we note psychology/psychiatry and the theater-stage and screen. Both were preoccupied with sexuality.
Freud’s work had not yet seeped into popular American thinking by 1920, but it was well-known and frequently discussed in educated circles by 1910. (Freud gave his first lectures in the U.S. at Clark University in 1909. Carl Jung lectured at Clark in 1909, as well.) And while Freud’s theories concerning human sexuality were complex and professionally serious, many of his epigones had other interests, good and ill, so that by the late 1910s, Freud was the putative reference for the complete separation of sexuality form issues of morality.(104)
This way of thinking was abetted by the rise of behavioristic psychology, which held that sex is but one more set of stimuli and responses, one more need to be fulfilled; to repress it is to live with the frustration of stimuli unresponded to and that is unhealthy; one feels guilty about expressing sexuality simply because one has been conditioned to feel guilty about it; to continue to feel guilty about expressing sexuality only warps the personality; the more complete the fulfillment, the healthier the individual. This sounded to holiness people like an invitation to licentiousness. On the stage and screen, actors, actresses, and writers put the new sensual freedom into the new naturalistic language of the grassroots. The stage had been sufficiently careless of the moral norms of revivalist Protestants to find itself off limits to such folks, and the movies promised no greater, and probably less sensitivity to the concerns of pious folk. And, worse, it was immediately obvious that the movie would be more nearly universally available than the stage play had been. It took little time for trouble to begin. Already in 1909, New York City had ordered all movie theaters closed, saying that they were an “immoral influence.” But then the film companies themselves had established the National Board of Censorship and it appeared that reasonable standards would be set.
At first, most Wesleyan/Holiness leaders simply advised viewer discretion,(105) but by the mid-1910s it was obvious that the industry itself, led by such directors as Cecil B. de Mille and actors as Mary Pickford and Theda Bara, had decided that sensuality was a lucrative business. The establishment of the Hayes Office, a movie industry move toward renewed self-censorship which was just one jump ahead of public demands for government regulation, was just around the corner. It finally came in 1922.
The tendency of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement of the 1910s to consider lust to be the quintessential expression of original sin/inherited depravity, far from being an anachronistic, prudish, defensive maneuver, was thus a direct response out of its own resources to a culture which it perceived to have developed an obsession with sex and sexuality.(106) But in this response, its fervent desire to meet practical issues was betrayed by the fact that for almost a generation it had distanced itself from broader theological reflection.
Traditionally, the theological issue of concupiscence had developed about two foci: the doctrine of creation and the doctrine of original sin. Christian theology had traditionally placed discussions of human sexuality in that context.(107) But now the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, having tended to focus on original sin almost exclusively in terms of its doctrine of entire sanctification, put sexuality in those terms as well.(108) Human sexuality as an aspect of the creation itself was a theme nearly forgotten among holiness people for better than a generation.
From the standpoint of what are now called feminist concerns, this move was a disaster, however laudable the motives which produced it. Now it was the women who would have to bear the burden of piety, for their very presence presented temptations to revert to the basest expressions of sinfulness. They would have to be especially protected, but they would also have to take special care not to tempt.(109) So, the advice now became rules.(110) While holiness literature filled up with praises to mothers and to motherhood, female leadership in the organizational structures fell under unprecedented restraints, most of them unwritten.(111)
By 1920, a rather complex interplay of popular piety and grassroots theology had brought about another shift in the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement’s understanding of original sin/inherited depravity and thus of its understanding of sanctity. The elements in the complex were: an emphasis on entire consecration and submission to the will of God as necessary preludes to entire sanctification;(112) a preference for defining entire sanctification (negatively) in terms of freedom from the “carnal nature”; an increasing tendency to limit the definition of sin to Wesley’s epigrammatic dictum: “sin properly so-called [is] a voluntary transgression of a known law of God”;(113) and a marked tendency to understand “free moral agency” as a natural capacity rather than as a gift of grace granted as a benefit of Christ’s atoning work.(114)
Formally, John Miley’s theology was the basic text for the ministry of most of the Wesleyan/Holiness bodies. Then, customarily, the candidate for ministry was instructed to go to others for an understanding of the doctrine of entire sanctification.(115) But, in fact, it was neither Miley nor the others who were shaping the theology of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, generally. Rather, the evangelists and those pastors who modeled their preaching after that of the evangelists were the Movement’s most influential theologians. So, while official statements of belief and official reading courses for ministry presented rather classical definitions of original sin/inherited depravity and sanctity, the sermons and written works of the time narrowed those definitions and tended to hang orthodoxy upon near-caricatures of them, caricatures which arose from the exigencies of revivalistic preaching, especially the profound concerns of preacher and congregation that believers be sanctified here and now, before it was too late.(116)
The doctrines of original sin/inherited depravity and entire sanctification underwent just such caricaturing. Earlier Methodism and the early Wesleyan/Holiness Movement had debated whether entire consecration and submission to the will of God preceded or followed on the experience of entire sanctification. Now the former position became official dogma, or at least quasi-official dogma, and, in consequence, such consecration became essentially a matter of initiating something, of “doing” something to initiate entire sanctification, rather than being essentially an offering of one’s whole being to serve as an instrument of divine purpose, now and across a lifetime, in response to grace. Original sin/inherited depravity, originally thought to be destroyed only by the gracious cleansing work of the Spirit, was now thought to be destroyed by a two-fold synergistic process: the believer’s entire consecration and the Spirit’s gracious cleansing. Overlooked was the profound difference between offering oneself in gratitude for being made holy and offering oneself in order to be made holy-the two were thoroughly confused. Wesleyan/Holiness theology thus opened itself to do ut des (I give in order that you [God] may give).(117)
Cultural, or least sub-cultural norms defined the do. Entire consecration most often took the form of some sort of deprivation or promise of deprivation. One would leave the comforts of home to be a missionary or a poor holiness preacher. Almost invariably, entire consecration was put in terms of personal indifference to social position and material well-being.(118)
Further, the Wesleyan/Holiness press and pulpit now regularly defined original sin/inherited depravity as “the carnal mind,” and entire sanctification was, or least involved the “eradication” of the “carnal mind.”(119) Not that these were new terms. They had, in fact, been used in this way for a half-century before the 1910s. But originally such use had been a bit unusual and somewhat eccentric; now it had become commonplace-even a shibboleth.(120)
The description of original sin/inherited depravity as “the carnal mind” expressed a deliberate anti-Pelagianism, at least on one level.(121) But it lured the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement away from the profound sense of the power and pervasiveness of sin which it had traditionally borne. The Movement continued to speak of the universality of sinfulness, but now it tended to be understood as the universality of personal sinfulness. The corporate character of sin and what would come to be called “systemic evil” fell between ideological brackets. The Movement stoutly resisted the social optimism of Protestant liberalism, but it did so simply by ignoring the social dimensions of either sin or salvation.(122)
Defining entire sanctification as the destruction of the carnal mind or as cleansing from the carnal nature, then, enabled adherents of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement to exempt themselves from implication in societal ills and sinfulness. At the same time that they became deeply sensitive to personal moral responsibility for a very narrow range of personal behaviors, they came to be almost blind to any notion of personal moral responsibility for the sinfulness of “the world” and its structures. So it is that they could rejoice in the conversion of African-Americans or Black Africans, but increasingly support racial segregation; and so it is that they could enjoin a rather rigid dress code upon the women without reflecting on what we would now call its chauvinistic or sexist dimensions.(123) One could somehow come into an experience of perfect love to God and neighbor without reflection on God’s concern for societies and structures in and of themselves and without seeing oneself as an individual in a system which might be exploiting that same neighbor.(124)
Exacerbating this “personalization” and “privatization” of sin was the Movement’s predilection for understanding one particular Wesleyan definition of sin to cover all sin of every sort. Wesley had defined sin “properly so-called” as “a willful transgression of a known law of God.”(125) But what Wesley had intended as a pastoral response to questions from the socially powerless about personal culpability, the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement took to be a generic definition, one which circumscribed both the personal responsibility and the personal liability of all, always.(126)
To a movement whose constituency was now largely poor and working-class, who felt powerless in the politics and social machinery of their day, such a definition made good sense. It had the power to free people from certain kinds of guilt feelings. But it also had the power to excuse indifference to social ills as social ills and to limit the reach of entire sanctification to a narrow range of personal pieties.
One major theological casualty of this shift was traditional Methodist “post-millennialism,” with its conviction that the Church is to prepare the world for the return of Christ, not by gathering together bands of the pure and isolating them from the world but by “spreading scriptural holiness’ so as to “reform the nation.”(127) Early twentieth-century holiness people still called for sweeping revivals of religion which would “bring the nation back to God,” but these pious hopes pointed to no programs or agendas of social or political reform, as indeed they had among their spiritual ancestors.(128) Ironically, by limiting its definition of sin in the way that it had, a movement which had risen to proclaim “full salvation,” both personal and societal, was now undercutting that very message.
Under this narrow definition of sin, Wesleyan/Holiness people in the late 1910s came to understand entire sanctification to be primarily a matter of purified motives.(129) Always, of course, the movement had argued that perfect love is at the heart of the matter, but this new emphasis was psychological in structure, not theological.(130) And, it was quickly in tension with the Movement’s long attention to behavioral rectitude as testimony to the destruction of carnality.
The problem cut two ways. The question was: Do good motives make an activity licit? Holiness people answered, “NO!” regarding those things forbidden by Scripture and by the practice of the Movement itself. On the other hand, holiness people answered, “YES!” regarding a vast, vaguely defined range of activities. So, one could not lie or drink liquor as a beverage, but if one acted “with good intention,” one could knowingly preach an exegetically irresponsible sermon (it might be regretted by some, but it was not condemned) or one could habitually ignore the normal rules for rest and exercise. The tension between defining entire sanctification as essentially purity of motive and defining it as essentially unexceptionable behavior “tended to limit the behavioral reach of the experience to a narrow range of personal traits and habits.”(131)
Further, Wesleyan/Holiness preachers and writers of the 1910s heavily emphasized the theme of “free moral agency.”(132) They certainly intended no Pelagianism, but Pelagianism is precisely what the grassroots of the Movement made of it. The practical definition of “free moral agency” became “the natural capacity of the human will to make free moral decisions.”(133)
The Wesleyan/Holiness Movement’s academic or technical theologians clearly saw the problem here and worked to resolve it. But three factors made it difficult for them to gain a hearing. The most formidable of these to document lies in the fact that the Movement’s evangelists were also the Movement’s de facto theologians. The received homiletical wisdom said that people who had come to hear a sermon would not sit still for theological fine-tuning; so, even the academic theologian-evangelist usually “preached for decision,” not comprehension. Then, on the one hand stood the long-term influence of revivalism, with its emphasis on decision-making; on the other stood the belief that conversion and entire sanctification are instantaneous experiences, with a unique interpretation being given to instantaneousness-i.e., that they occur in a moment, and that the specific moment is the one which we make up our minds to receive them. Then too, in a rather quiet, but important, debate which had begun around 1900, several of the academic theologians who had shut the door on Pelagian interpretations of “free moral agency” walked off into Pelagianism on the matter of the nature of faith. They argued that while it must be granted that faith may become saving faith only by the operations of grace, faith is essentially a human quality, even a natural human quality.(134)
By the 1910s, then, the doctrine of original sin/inherited depravity, and, by implication, the doctrine of entire sanctification, had been vitiated amongst the grassroots of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement. The developments noted in the understanding of free moral agency and faith, the developments noted in the understanding of entire consecration, the growing tendency to define entire sanctification negatively (as freedom from carnality) at the expense of its positive definition, and the limiting of the definition of sin were all significant aspects in that vitiation. Of course, holiness evangelists and others still said much of “the carnal nature” or “the old man” or “the bent to sinning,” but these terms were given referents which tended to trivialize
Not that the referents were in themselves trivial. From the perspective of the evangelical Protestant tradition, some were, some were not. But as appropriate as they might be, none of them separately, nor all of them together, could communicate the depth and mystery and pervasiveness of sinfulness nor the wonder and sovereignty and grandeur of the grace which rescues from that sinfulness.
Further, by about 1920, holiness people had come to understand the quintessential character of original sin/inherited depravity to be lust or concupiscence, in a narrow sense. Even pride (usually called “carnal pride”), long understood to be at least one of two basic elements in original sin, if not the very root itself, was now often defined in terms of concupiscence.(135)
But while this perspective has had long influence in the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, it was dominant for perhaps a decade, no more. But its short “reign” and its power appear to be tied to the cultural context. In addition to the cultural pre-occupation with sexuality which began to grow in the previous stage, American culture had, by 1920, become fascinated with the theory of biological evolution, which was now academically well-developed and was being applied in well-publicized ways to any number of institutions and disciplines by such persons as Herbert Spencer, Lester Ward, L. T. Hobhouse, Thorsten Veblen, ,and John Dewey.(136) The Movement could hardly ignore it.
In fact, the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement had not, early on, opposed the evolutionary theory out of hand.(137) But two factors seem to have dictated its eventual enlistment on the conservative “side” of the fray.
First, the popularizing and generalizing of the evolutionary hypothesis took place just as the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement began to concern itself with affording liberal arts education to its youth. This came at high material cost and demanded the widest support of the constituency. Here, the Movement followed a characteristic strategy: whenever broad support is needed, yield as much as may be necessary to the demands of the doctrinally and ethically most conservative folks, for the more liberal people will still go along, whereas if too much be yielded to the more liberal people, the more conservative will withdraw.(138)
This strategy guaranteed that the Movement would be kept astir about evolutionary theory, for the agents for the colleges went about assuring everyone that their schools would be up-to-date as to the issues and that they would not fall into the traps now holding captive the colleges of the mainline denominations and the state institutions.(139)
Second, the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement took to the conservative side in the fray because it tended to see only two alternatives possible, and it could not agree at all with Protestant modernism. So, the Movement moved closer to fundamentalism (at least in its sympathies, if not in its theological method and dogma) and holiness people began to take to the pulpit and lectern to excoriate all of the offspring of Darwin.(140)
So, while the cultural context seemed to bespeak naturalism at every turn, the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, increasingly reading itself as counter-cultural, took on that naturalism as the instrument and expression of Satan himself.(141) And since sexuality bulked large in that naturalism, the Movement took it as the most significant and most pernicious expression of the whole.(142) Here, holiness people would take their stand!(143)
So it is that in the 1920s the various denominations and other bodies of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement hardened older legalism and developed newer ones, most of which had to do with expressing “spirituality” as over against “the flesh,” and there is little room to doubt that “the flesh” is intimately linked with sexuality.(144)
In this process, the women came to bear the burden of piety, for Wesleyan/Holiness people (male and female) believed that women were uniquely tempted and uniquely tempting at precisely that point at which they had now come to believe the human race to express most clearly its fall from grace. And, they came to believe as well that sexuality was also the point of greatest moral vulnerability.(145) They believed that it was the strategy of the Enemy to seek to destroy women in order to destroy everything else.(146) So it was that holiness people were increasingly reluctant to give the woman freedom of movement and the power to lead. As they saw it, there was too much to lose.
Bassett, Paul Merritt. Culture and Concupiscence: The Changing Definition of Sanctity in the Wesleyan Holiness Movement, 1867-1920, Wesleyan Theological Journal 28, no. 1 and 2 (Spring-Fall,1993): 59-127.
1 Historically, those inside and outside of the religious movement described in this study have called it “The Holiness Movement.” However, its adherents are ever more aware that all orthodox Christians seek holiness. Hence the search for a more accurate name. All agree that John Wesley’s doctrine of Christian perfection, passed through North American Protestant revivalism, is what galvanizes the Movement. So, “Wesleyan/Holiness Movement,” awkward and inadequate as it is, serves as a generic “handle” here.
2 Cf. John W. V. Smith, The Quest for Holiness and Unity: A Centennial History of the Church of God (Anderson, Indiana) (Anderson, IN: Warner Press, 1980), pp. 194-204 for a full account for the Necktie Controversy. Almost every holiness group had had its analogous strifes.
3 Opal F. Brookover, “On Dress,” Gospel Trumpet, Feb. 27, 1908, p. 133. For another statement of the same sentiment from within the holiness circles of the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, seePentecostal Herald, vol. 32, no. 6 (Feb. 11, 1920), passim. Editor Henry Clay Morrison devotes the entire issue to what was called “The Dress Question.”
4 The periodization is approximate, not absolute. The shifts noted were gradual; the tempo varied, and they spread unevenly across the country. The terminology remained fairly constant throughout the period covered in the paper, but both great and subtle changes occurred in the relative importance, systematic placement, and connotations of terms.
5 The Wesleyan/Holiness Movement in the period covered by this paper may be defined at the center as a self-nominated “coalition” of three religious families which hold in common the belief that the atoning work of Christ has made possible in this life an experience of Christian perfection—best defined as unconditional love of God and neighbor—which begins in a second definite work of divine grace which is received instantaneously, by faith, subsequent to regeneration. The three families are: 1. Those religious bodies and persons which belonged to the National Campmeeting Association for the Promotion of Holiness (NCAPH), which officially took the name National Holiness Association (NHA) toward the end of our period; 2. Those religious bodies such as the Church of God (Anderson) which were clearly committed to the doctrine of Christian perfection as stated and recognized themselves as part of the Movement but chose not to affiliate with the NCAPH/NHA; and 3. Significant numbers among the membership of the Methodist Episcopal Church, Methodist Episcopal Church, South, Methodist Protestant Church, African Methodist Episcopal Church, African Methodist Episcopal, Zion Church, Colored Methodist Episcopal Church, and other groups who identified themselves as belonging to the Holiness Movement though their denominations as a whole did not. Also to be included in the Movement in the period covered here are those groups which claimed and retained Wesleyan perfectionism though their central interest became charismata, especially glossalalia—among them those who coalesced into the Church of God (Cleveland), the Pentecostal Holiness Church, and, to a lesser and less clear degree, the Church of God in Christ. Then there are noteworthy individuals who identified with the Movement whose denominations had little or no interest in it: Hannah Whitall Smith and her spouse, Robert Piersall Smith; Asa Mahan and Charles Finney; Thomas Cogswell Upham; David Updegraff; Charles Cullis; A. B. Earle; and A. B. Simpson, being outstanding leaders among them.
6 Generally, the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement has taken JohnWesley’s Plain Account of Christian Perfection as the paradigmatic statement of its distinguishing doctrine. For the edition of the Plain Account . . . cited in this paper, cf. Thomas Jackson, ed., The Works of John Wesley (3d ed., reprinted; 14 vols.; Grand Rapids, MI: Zondervan, 1959), vol. XI:366-466. On the specific issue of maturity, cf. pp. 394-406. For examples of popular Wesleyan/Holiness Movement treatments of this specific doctrine, cf. George Peck, The Scripture Doctrine of Christian Perfection Stated and Defended (7th ed., rev.; New York: Carlton and Phillips, 1854); Randolph S. Foster, Christian Purity: Or, the Heritage of Faith (rev. ed.; New York: Phillips and Hunt; Cincinnati: Cranston and Stowe, 1884); Aaron Merritt Hills, Holiness and Power for the Church and for the Ministry(Cincinnati: Revivalist Office, 1897); and J. A. Wood, Perfect Love: Or, Plain Things for Those Who Need Them, Concerning the Doctrine, Experience, Profession and Practice of Christian Holiness(rev. and enlrged.; Chicago: Christian Witness Co., 1915). Cited here are not the earliest but the most easily accessible editions.
7 E. g., Peck, ibid., pp. 24-41; Daniel Steele, Milestone Papers, Doctrinal, Ethical, and Experimental, on Christian Progress (New York: Hunt and Eaton; Cincinnati: Cranston and Stowe, 1876), pp. 11-35; Foster, ibid., pp. 93-98, 118-128; Hills, ibid., pp. 31-46 (of special interest are pp. 41-46, where Hills analyzes “Oberlin Theology”); William Baxter Godbey, Carnality (Louisville: Pentecostal Publishing, 190?), passim; and B.W. Huckabee, The Carnal Mind (n.p.; n.d. [c.1900]), pp. 3-28.
8 John Wesley, Sermon XXXVIII: “Original Sin,” III.2, in E. H. Sugden, ed., Wesley’s Standard Sermons (2 vols.; London: Epworth, 1921) II:223. Also cf. Wesley, The Doctrine of Original Sin According to Scripture, Reason, and Experience, “Part I: The Past and Present State of Mind,” inWorks (ed. cit.) IX: 192-238.
9 John Wesley, Sermon L: “The Scripture Way of Salvation:” I.4 in Sugden, ibid., II.446.
10 E.g., “the Question, ‘What Is an Arminian?’ Answered by a Lover of Free Grace,” in Works (ed. cit.) X:358-361; also Sermon I: “Salvation by Faith,” intro. 1-3, in Sugden, ibid., II.37-38.
11 For Arminius’ understanding of the universality of the Atonement, see, e.g., James Nichols and W. R. Bagnall, trs. and eds., The Writings of James Arminius, D.D. (3 vols.; Auburn and Buffalo: Derby, Miller, and Orton, 1853; reprint, Grand Rapids: Baker Book House, 1956) III.451-474; for his understanding of the justice of God as it applies to free will, see, e.g., I.251-254, 523-531.
12 Cf. Wesley, Sermon I: “Salvation by Faith,” passim, in Sugden, ibid., 5:37-52; Sermon V: “Justification by Faith”, passim, in ibid., I.114-130; and Sermon LXXXV: “Working Out Our Own Salvation,” I:1-3 and III:3-5, in Works (ed. cit.) VI.508, 511-512.
13 John Wesley and Charles Wesley, “The Nature, Design, and General Rules of the United Societies . . .” in Works (ed. cit.) VIII.269-271.
14 Cf., for instance, A Plain Account of Christian Perfection 19, in Works (ed. cit.) XI.394-406; Sermon L: “The Scripture Way of Salvation” III.1-18, in Sugden, ibid., II.451-460.
15 Cf., for instance, A Plain Account of Christian Perfection 25, in Works (ed. cit.) XI.414-441.
16 To cite examples over the time span covered by this paper: cf. George Peck, The Scripture Doctrine of Christian Perfection Stated and Defended: With a Critical and Historical Examination of the Controversy Both Ancient and Modern; Also Practical Illustrations and Advices, in a Series of Lectures (New York: Lane and Sanford, 1842). Citations from this work in this paper are from the 7th ed., rev.; New York: Carlton and Phillips, 1864. Cf. supra, n6. This work constantly and specifically appeals and refers to writers from across the whole history of Christianity, though, typical of its time, it cites very few from the Middle Ages or the post-Chalcedonian East. Also see, George Peck, Appeal from Tradition to Scripture and Common Sense (New York: Land and Sanford, 1844); Randolph S. Foster, ibid.; Daniel Steele, A Defense of Christian Perfection; Or, A Criticism of Dr. James Mudge’s Growth in Holiness Toward Perfection (New York: Hunt and Eaton, 1896); and J. A. Wood, ibid., pp. 265-269. The confessional articles of nearly all of the holiness denominations indicate the same awareness and concern.
17 It should be remembered that the popular literature of the Methodists and the holiness people far outsold their academic literature. Authors such as Phoebe Palmer, William Broadman, William Arthur, and (a bit later) Hannah Whitall Smith had very wide followings. But theological texts did not suffer from disinterest. By 1900, Methodists in general, and the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement in particular, were reading the following Methodist theologians (their works listed herein chronological order of their appearance):
Richard Watson, Theological Institutes: Or, A View of the Evidences, Doctrines, Morals, and Institutions of Christianity (3 vols.; New York: N. Bangs and J. Emory, 1825). This was the first American edition and is from the second London edition. The edition most popular in the United States, and the one known and used by the early Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, was edited by John M’Clintock (New York: Carlton and Lanahan; Cincinnati: Hitchcock and Walden, 1850), who added to it his own theological analysis.
Adam Clarke, Christian Theology (London: Thomas Tegg and Son, 1835). The edition best known to the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement was probably the revision done by Thomas O. Summers (Nashville: E. Stevenson and F. A. Owen, 1856). This work is actually a selection from Clarke’s writings more or less skillfully arranged in the form of a systematic theology by Samuel Dunn, whose biography of Clarke is printed with it.
Thomas Neely Ralston, Elements of Divinity: Or, A Course of Lectures. Comprising a Clear and Concise View of the System of Theology as Taught in the Holy Scriptures; With Appropriate Questions Appended to Each Lecture (Louisville: Norton and Griswold, 1847). The more popular edition of this work among Wesleyan/Holiness people has been the second edition (Cincinnati: Poe and Hitchcock, 1861)—not in itself, however, but in the form prepared by T. O. Summers under the title, Elements of Divinity: Or, a Concise and Comprehensive View of Bible Theology; Comprising the Doctrines, Evidences, Morals, and Institutions of Christianity; With Appropriate Questions Appended to Each Chapter (Nashville: A. H. Redford, 1871).
Amos Binney, A Theological Compend: Containing a System of Divinity (Cincinnati: Swormstedt and Poe, 1856). This work was best known in the form of a revision by Binney’s son-in-law, Daniel Steele (New York: Eaton and Mains, 1874; republished as Binney’s Theological Compend Improved. . . [New York: Abingdon-Cokesbury, 1902]). Thomas O. Summers also edited and published it in 1885 (Nashville: Southern Methodist Publishing House).
Samuel A. Wakefield, A Complete System of Christian Theology: Or, A Concise, Comprehensive, and Systematic View of the Evidences, Doctrines, Morals and Institutions of Christianity (2 vols.; New York: Carlton and Porter; Cincinnati: Cranston and Stowe, 1862). None of the standard Methodist biographical sources lists Wakefield. Yet this theology seems to have circulated widely and to great effect until the 1890s.
William Burt Pope, A Compendium of Christian Theology: Being Analytical Outlines of a Course of Theological Study (3 vols.; London: Wesleyan Conference Office, 1875). The edition best known to the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement was the “second edition, revised and enlarged” printed in London in 1880 and then in New York and Cincinnati, by Phillips and Hunt, and Walden and Stowe, respectively, without date.
Miner Raymond, Systematic Theology (3 vols.; Cincinnati: Hitchcock and Walden, 1877).
Thomas Osmond Summers, Systematic Theology: A Complete Body of Wesleyan Arminian Divinity(2 vols.; Nashville: Methodist Episcopal Church, South, 1888).
John Miley, Systematic Theology (2 vols.; New York: Hunt and Eaton; Cincinnati: Cranston and Stowe, 1892, 1894).
18 Cf., for instance, Robert E. Chiles, Theological Transition in American Methodism: 1790-1935(New York and Nashville: Abingdon, 1965), pp. 115-136, for an interpretation of the differences between the theologies of John Wesley, Richard Watson, and John Miley. For a more specific example, cp. Pope, ibid., II.83-84 and J. A. Wood, ibid., pp. 41-43. Pope is convinced that depravity is truly sin; Wood is convinced that it is not. Both writers enjoyed exceptional popularity among Wesleyan/Holiness people.
19 E.g., cp. Watson, ibid., II.3-87, Peck, ibid., pp. 242-278, and Foster, ibid., pp. 333-344. (Foster here quotes a tract by an author whom he does not identify but with whom he generally agrees.)
20 E.g., Daniel Steele, Mile-Stone Papers, Doctrinal, Ethical, and Experimental, on Christian Progress (New York: Hunt and Eaton; Cincinnati: Cranston and Stowe, 1876), Chapter XVIII: “How the Guidance of the Spirit May Be Discriminated,” pp. 197-228.
21 Adam Clarke, ibid., p. 101. Also see John Wesley, “The Doctrine of Original Sin,” Works (ed. cit.) IX.197.
22 It is largely under this rubric that the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement developed the notion of entire sanctification as the “eradication” of the “carnal nature.” Whatever the force or dynamism of spirit within the believer that contradicted or countermanded the will of God had to be evicted before the Holy Spirit would dwell in that believer’s heart. In this way, original sin/inherited depravity was hypostatized, or, at least reified. See, for example, Beverly Carradine, The Old Man(Louisville: Kentucky Methodist Publishing Company, 1896). Also see Stephen S. White,Eradication Defined, Explained, Authenticated (Kansas City: Beacon Hill Press, 1954). I cite White here because his is the last comprehensive work in roughly a century of extended arguments for the eradicationist position.
23 See, for instance, Wakefield, ibid., II.515-537; George Peck, ibid., pp. 457-461; and Daniel Wise, The Path of Life: Or, Sketches of the Way to Glory and Immortality. A Help for Young Christians (New York: Carlton and Porter, 186?), passim.
24 Episcopal Methodism, following Wesley, had traditionally advised that the sole condition for entering the Methodist societies is “a desire to flee from the wrath to come, and to be saved form [one's] sins.” To continue in the societies, Methodists were to “evidence their desire of salvation” by “doing no harm, by avoiding evil of every kind, especially that which is most generally practiced”; “doing good; by being in every kind merciful after their powers; as they have opportunity, doing good of every possible sort, and as far as possible, to all . . .”; and “attending upon all the ordinances of God.” These three rules, with their specific references and stated examples, became standard in one form or another of most of the ecclesial bodies of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement. However, the Wesleyan/Holiness bodies tended to put them forward as prerequisites to joining their groups as well as requirements for continued membership. In several of these bodies, the rules were (are) customarily read to congregations when new members were (are) received. And, pastors in some of these bodies, the Church of the Nazarene, for example, are constitutionally required either to read the rules to their gathered congregations or to have them printed and distributed to the membership annually.
25 None of the larger Wesleyan/Holiness bodies and very few of the smaller ones require(d) an experience of entire sanctification for entry into or continuance in membership. But (cf. supra, n24), fidelity to the rules was/is expected of all members. See, for example, J. A. Wood, ibid., p. 305: “In the outward life [of the entirely sanctified as compared with the justified who are not yet entirely sanctified] there is no marked difference, as the distinction is not so much in the outer life as in the inner life and experience.
26 The ususal approach was to insist that once the believer was entirely sanctified, the rules would be kept without tension. E.g., Phoebe Palmer, Guide to Holiness 53 (1868), 29-30. Here, Palmer reasons that if folks were entirely sanctified they would not longer yearn for “pious amusements,” i.e., church-sponsored or church-approved activities which were not directly contributory to spiritual edification.
27 G. D. Watson and W. B. Godbey, among others, press this logic to the point of concluding that only the entirely sanctified (not the “merely” saved) will go to heaven. Cf. G. D. Watson, A Holiness Manual (Boston: Christian Witness, 1882), pp. 50-52; and W. B. Godbey, Holiness or Hell? (Louisville: Kentucky Methodist Publishing Co., 1896).
28 This principle was understood to have been enunciated by Wesley himself. Cf. John Wesley, “The Character of a Methodist,” Works (ed. cit.) VIII.339-347, esp. ¶17, p. 346; and Plain Account of Christian Perfection ¶15, Works (ed. cit.) XI.383-387. For the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement itself, see, for instance, Daniel Steele, ibid., pp. 238-261; and Matin Wells Knapp, Christ Enthroned Within (Cincinnati: God’s Revivalist Office, 1886), passim.
29 On the matter of the definition of “worldliness” as proclivity rather than as activity, see, for example, Daniel Steele, ibid., pp. 208-221; and George Peck, ibid., pp. 457-461.
30 The increasing tendency of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement to express the doctrine and experience of entire sanctification in pneumatological rather than christological terms, while at the same time insisting that its basic definition is “Christlikeness,” may be grasped by examining the titles in the bibliography of holiness apologetics by William Charles Miller, compiler and ed., Holiness Works: A Bibliography (Kansas City, MO.: Nazarene Publishing House, 1986). Of 1400 titles listed (including reprints, new editions, etc.), some 240 (not counting reprints, new editions, etc.) mention or allude to the Holy Spirit, outnumbering titles mentioning or alluding to Jesus Christ by about 17:1, with only four of the christological titles appearing since 1910; six between 1880 and 1910.
31 See, for instance, Beverly Carradine, The Sanctified Life (Cincinnati: M. W. Knapp, 1897), pp. 77-88. Carradine dedicated this work entirely to the making of this point. Also see, W. B. Godbey,God’s Nazarite (Nashville: Pentecostal Mission Publishing Co., n.d. [after 1902, before 1915]),passim.
32 Cf. supra, n14.
33 Cf., for instance, II.371-387, which contains two chapters under the title “The Extent of the Atonement.”
34 Cp. Watson, ibid., II.2-86 and Wakefield, ibid., I.275-307.
35 Cf., Wakefield, ibid., I.298-303. It must be noted that while Wakefield rarely uses the term “pride,” the concept is certainly here.
36 Cp., for instance, George Peck, ibid., 24-65, in much of which Peck, who first published his work in 1852, is content to quote and paraphrase Wesley, Watson, and Clarke, with Wakefield, ibid., II.446-454, in which Wakefield does quote Wesley but only to show that entire sanctification “does not differ in essence from regeneration” and that it “does not imply a state of indefectibility.”
37 Cf. Wakefield, ibid., II.451-452, 486-491.
38 Cf. esp. Watson, ibid., II.468-474.
39 Cf. esp. Wakefield, ibid., II.467-471.
40 Cf. Watson, ibid., II.524-571. Most of his ethical discussion is limited to broad principles. He is more detailed and specific than one would expect where he works with the marriage relationship, however. But he is there citing “an extract . . . made from an old writer. . . .” Cf. ibid., II.548-550. (Simply for purposes of rough comparison: Watson devotes about 2.5% of his text to ethics; Wakefield, 3.1%.)
41 Cf. Wakefield, ibid., II.515-537.
42 Cp., for instance, Watson, ibid., II.480-483, and Wakefield, ibid., II.486-491.
43 Cp., for instance, John Wesley, Sermon IV: “Scriptural Christianity” I:¶1-10, in Sermons (ed. cit.) I.94-98; and Sermon XLVII: “The Repentance of Believers” I:¶1-20 and III.¶1-4, in Sermons(ed. cit.) II.379-391 and 394-397, respectively; George Peck, ibid., 441-444; and Wakefield, ibid., II.446-447, 453-454.
44 E.g., Jeremiah Dodsworth, The Better Land: Or, The Christian Emigrant’s Guide to Heaven(Nashville: Southern Methodist Publishing House, 1861; Columbia, SC: L. L. Pickett, n.d.), passim; Frank Stowe Heath, Soul Laws in Sexual, Social, Spiritual Life . . . (“Pentecostal Holiness Library,” vol. 2, no. 10; 2d ed. rev.; Cincinnati: M. W. Knapp, 1899), passim; C. E. Orr, Christian Conduct(Anderson, IN: Gospel Trumpet, 1902), passim. Pastors, evangelists, and writers launched frequent warnings against “fanaticism” and “enthusiasm” in this period precisely because of the surge of legalism among holiness folk. Numbers of books were published in the period absolutely opposing such things as the use of tobacco, dancing, the wearing of wedding rings, belonging to lodges, and attendance at the theater, as well.
45 Cf., for instance, Phoebe Palmer, Guide to Holiness 68 (1875), 43; B[ushrod] S[hedden] Taylor, Sermon in S. B. Shaw, ed., Echoes of the General Holiness Assembly: Chicago, May 3-13, 1901(Chicago: S. B. Shaw, 1901), pp. 193-206; and A. M. Hills, Pentecost Rejected and the Effect on the Churches (Cincinnati: Office of God’s Revivalist, 1902), esp., pp. 90-103.
46 Cf. for instance, Randolph S. Foster, ibid., 282-310. Foster draws heavily upon John Wesley,Plain Account of Christian Perfection, sec. 25, qq. 32-37 in Works (ed. cit.) XI.427-441. Also see, for further example, Carradine, ibid., 158-166; and A. M. Hills, Holiness and Power for the Church and for the Ministry (Cincinnati: Revivalist Office, 1897), pp. 352-354.
47 George Peck, ibid., 136-147, cites von Limborch at length and comments upon the differences between Arminius, von Limborch, and Episcopius. Charles Hodge, Systematic Theology (2 vols.; New York: Charles Scribner’s Sons, 1872-1873), II.329-330, notes the difference between the Wesleyans at that date, who followed Arminius rather than the later Remonstrants. Cf. H. Orton Wiley, Christian Theology (3 vols.; Kansas City, MO: Nazarene Publishing House, 1940-1943), II.96-140, who develops the doctrine of original sin/inherited depravity in full awareness of the two streams that have flowed within the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement and of the later tendency to swim in the Remonstrant waters rather than the strictly Arminian.
48 Miner Raymond, Systematic Theology (3 vols.; Cincinnati: Hitchcock and Walden; New York: Nelson and Phillips, 1877-1879). Cf. “Introduction,” I.9-16.
49 Cf. ibid., II.50-174. To be quite precise, the chapter on the Fall follows that on original righteousness, which, with the chapters on the Fall and original sin, constitute his theological anthropology. Raymond writes with rather full awareness of then-recent developments in paleontology.
50 Cf. ibid., II.59-63. “Sin originated in the abuse of free-will; it was an act of an unconstrained first cause, a creation de nihilo of a free moral agent” (II.63).
51 Cf. ibid., II.64-97. The direct practical response to this understanding of what was the quintessential expression of original sin/inherited depravity was the emphasis on the “surrender” of the will. But this emphasis became quite problematic for a while because of the teaching of Thomas Upham that there is a work of grace beyond entire sanctification (but predicated upon it) which annihilates the human will. Cf. Thomas Upham, Principles of the Interior or Hidden Life; Designed Particularly for the Consideration of Those Who are Seeking Assurance of Faith and Perfect Love (3d ed.; Boston: Waite, Pierce and Company, 1845), pp. 364-365: “We have no pleasure of our own; we have no desires of our own; we have no will of our own.” Phoebe Palmer, who had been Upham’s mentor in the way of holiness and who emphasized entire consecration in such a way as to encourage “surrender” talk, struggled at length with Upham’s notions. Cf. Charles Edward White, The Beauty of Holiness: Phoebe Palmer as Theologian, Revivalist, Feminist, and Humanitarian (Grand Rapids, MI: Francis Asbury Press/Zondervan Publishing House, 1986),pp. 113-117 for an account of the debate. For one of Mrs. Palmer’s own responses to Upham, see her letter of 30 April, 1851, to the Uphams in Richard Wheatley, The Life and Letters of Mrs. Phoebe Palmer (New York: W. C. Palmer, 1881),pp. 518-523.
52 E.g., W. B. Godbey, God’s Nazarite (Nashville: Pentecostal Mission Publishing Company, n.d.),passim, but esp. cf. pp. 13-22, 42-43; M[ilton] L[orenzo] Haney, The Inheritance Restored: Or, Plain Teaching on Bible Holiness (4th ed., rev. and enlgd.; Chicago: Christian Witness, 1904), pp. 228-236. (Haney first published this work in 1881.) This was certainly the attitude of Daniel Warner and his associates at the outset of the already-noted Necktie Controversy. Cf. supra, n2.
53 Perhaps one of the most striking examples of this occurs in the story of the entire sanctification of Samuel Logan Brengle (1860-1936), who became Commissioner of the Salvation Army. Cf. Clarence W. Hall, S[amuel] L[ogan] Brengle: Portrait of a Prophet (New York: Salvation Army National Headquarters, 1933).
54 Cr. John P. Brooks, The Divine Church: A Treatise on the Origin, Constitution, Order, and Ordinances of the Church; Being a Vindication of the New Testament Ecclesia, and an Exposure of the Anti-Scriptural Character of the Modern Church of Sect (Columbia, MO: Herald Publishing House, 1891), passim, but see esp. Chapter XIII: Observations on Discipline, pp. 203-216; and Chapter XVI: Anti-Holiness Character of the Church of Sect, pp. 267-283. And also see D[aniel] S[idney] Warner and H.M. Riggle, The Cleansing of the Sanctuary: Or, The Church of God in Type and Antitype, and in Prophecy and Revelation (Moundsville, WV: Gospel Trumpet Company, 1903), esp. pp. 230-279. Warner died in 1895. Riggle incorporated a Warner MS as pp. 74-276 of this work. Warner and his spiritual heirs rejected denominationalism as stoutly as did Brooks and his spiritual heirs, but Warner’s people held from the beginning a much stronger sense of confederation among themselves than did Brooks’.
55 E.g., George Peck, ibid., 443-444, says (in 1842) that submission to the will of God is “a state of mind which will always accompany entire sanctification.” In 1876, Daniel Steele, ibid., 267-279, puts the matter of submission to spiritual discipline in terms of freedom. Commenting on Rom. 7:6, he says (pp. 270-271): “This death of the believer unto the law must be twofold: first, as the ground of acceptance by reason of his perfect obedience. The penitent sinner in this sense dies to the law when he abandons the plea of perfect obedience, and relies only on the blood of Christ, and obtains justification by faith. A second step brings him into perfect freedom. This is when love toward the Lawgiver is so fully shed abroad in the heart as to effect a perfect release from the fear of the law as a motive to obedience. This takes place when the Holy Spirit fills the soul, and exhibits Jesus to the eye of faith . . . and gives an assurance of his love to me so strong as to exclude doubt, and to awaken love toward him responsive to his mighty love. Duty is transformed into delight. . . . Love knows no burdens in the service of its object. The law still remains as the rule of life and the measure of sin, but it is divested of its terrors.”
56 Cf. for instance, Phoebe Palmer, “Consecration Must Precede Faith,” Guide to Holiness LX (1871), 183; “How Entire Sanctification May Be Received Now,” Guide to Holiness LXVII (1875), 162-164. (The latter article was published posthumously.)
57 E.g., Phoebe Palmer, Incidental Illustrations of the Economy of Salvation, Its Doctrines and Duties (Boston: H. V. Degen; Binghampton, N.Y.: B. W. Gorham, 1855), p. 131. Mrs. Palmer’s view, oft-presented, was hotly disputed, fairly and unfairly. Generally fair were Nathan Bangs, as in his The Present State and Prospects, and Responsibilities of the Methodist Episcopal Church (New York: Lane and Scott, 1850), pp. 58ff., for whose position also, cf. Able Stevens, Life and Times of Nathan Bangs, D. D. (New York: Carlton and Fisher, 1863), pp. 395-402; and Randolph Foster,ibid., 56-58. Finally unfair is Hiram Mattison, Thoughts on Entire Sanctification (New York: Lane and Scott, 1852), and A Calm Review of Dr. Perry’s Late Article . . . (New York: John A. Gray, 1856). Cf. the review of the issues in Charles Edward White, ibid., 52-58, 142-144.
58 Cf. Randolph Foster, ibid., 180-220, esp. 203-206; and Beverly Carradine, ibid., 17-19, for examples of sensitivity to the issue. Carradine also helps to perpetuate the problem, however, by defining entire sanctification in terms of an answer to “perfect consecration, unswerving faith, and importunate prayer” (p. 17). For an example of the caricature itself, cf. the sermon preached on Friday afternoon, 10 May 1901, at the General Holiness Assembly in First M.E. Church, Chicago, Illinois, by W.B. Shepard, in S.B. Shaw, Echoes of the General Holiness Assembly: Held in Chicago, May 3-13, 1901 (Chicago: S.B. Shaw, 1901), pp. 250-263. Holiness preaching was much more inclined to present the doctrine and experience in this way than was holiness literature.
59 E.g., Henry Clay Morrison, Baptism with the Holy Ghost (Louisville: Pentecostal Publishing Co., 1900), Chapter VIII: and Wilson Thomas Hogue, The Holy Spirit: A Study (Chicago: W.B. Rose, 1916), pp. 271-275. It is of interest to note that the matter of the ordo of entire sanctification, especially the matter of the place of entire consecration in that ordo, remained sufficiently debatable among the Nazarenes that they resisted any too-specific statement upon it in their “Articles of Faith” until 1928, when the (quadrennial) General Assembly voted to recommend for inclusion in the article on entire sanctification (Article X) the theological proposition that entire consecration necessarily precedes entire sanctification. The requisite number of (annual) district assemblies affirmed the recommendation and the proposition was written into the article, where it remains.
60 E.g., Phoebe Palmer, The Way of Holiness with Notes by the Way: Being a Narrative of Religious Experience Resulting from a Determination to be a Bible Christian (2nd ed.; New York: G. Lane and C.B. Tippet, 1845), pp. 30-31; Wheatley, ibid., 38-41, which simply quotes from Phoebe Palmer’s Diary for 27 July 1837. Phoebe Palmer’s point of view and mode of expression became almost prototypical. Cp. J.A. Wood, ibid., 106-108. Also see W.E. Shepard, ibid., passim, esp. 260. Here we find reference to “the unknown bundle,” the “unrevealed will of God,” i.e., the specific details of life as it unfolds from this moment. “Putting the unknown bundle on the altar,” the entire consecration of the future in the present, remains a staple of the phraseology of revivalistic holiness preaching.
61 J[ohn] A[llen] Wood, Perfect Love: Or, Plain Things for Those Who Need Them. Concerning the Doctrine, Experience, Profession and Practice of Christian Holiness (Philadelphia: Samuel D. Burlock, 1861). This work underwent several editions without any fundamental change in its essential content. The edition cited for this paper was published in Chicago by Christian Witness Company in 1915. It was registered with the Library of Congress in 1880. It says on the title page, “Fifty-fourth Thousand Revised and Enlarged,” apparently a reference to this particular edition. As late as 1959, Nazarene Publishing House, Kansas City, Missouri, was publishing an abridgement of the work, done by John Paul.
62 J. A. Wood, ibid., 95-113, 227.
63 Cf. J. A. Wood, ibid., 227 for the quotation; also see 96-100, 227-231.
64 E.g., Wood, ibid., 231. Comparison with earlier Methodist usage of the Pauline principle is instructive. Cp., for instance, George Peck, ibid., 457-461, which pages constitute the very end of the book, and Wood, loc. cit. Where Peck uses the principle primarily with reference to “appearances of evil (which) develop themselves when no evil is intended, or even suspected by us” (p. 457), Wood uses it with respect to evils with which no compromise is to be made: “To retain (perfect love), you must oppose sin of every name and kind, without any compromise.”
65 Cf. Wood, ibid., 301-303.
66 E.g, John Wesley, Sermon LXXXVIII: “On Dress” in Works (ed. cit.) VII:15-26.
67 E.g., Phoebe Palmer, Entire Devotion to God (14th ed.; New York: n.p., 1853; reprint; Salem, OH: Schmul Publishing, 1979), pp. 58-59, has an especially lurid story about the consequences of disobedience to the Biblical word-in this case, disobedience with respect to injunctions against ostentation in clothing. The story is atypical of Palmer only in its sensationalist tone. Entire Devotion to God was more commonly known as A Present to My Christian Friend. Its more common title was A Present to My Christian Friend on Entire Devotion to God. It was originally published in New York in 1847 (publisher not indicated). Later editions enlarged the original but changed the essential content almost not at all.
68 For representative statements from Phoebe Palmer, see Wheatley, ibid., 600-610. Wheatley has chosen examples which represent well Mrs. Palmer’s views but which tend to be unrepresentative of her tone, for she wrote with deep feeling and often with pungency. Cf. White,ibid., 150-154.
69 E.g., Palmer, Guide to Holiness 53 (1868), 29-30.
70 See, for instance, S. M. Vernon, Amusements in the Light of Reason, History, and Revelation(Cincinnati: Cranston and Stowe; New York: Phillips and Hunt, 1882).
71 This is the fundamental point of A. M. Hills, Holiness and Power for the Church and the Ministry(Cincinnati: Revivalist Office, 1897). Cf. esp., pp. 17-82. Hills (pp. 24-25) quotes in support of his point Randolph S. Foster and Jesse Peck, both Methodist Episcopal bishops. Also see John Brooks,ibid., esp. 203-283. On pp. 273-275, Brooks, too quotes at length from Foster. Seth C. Rees, The Ideal Pentecostal Church (Cincinnati: Revivalist Office, 1897), aproaches the matter positively, attempting to rally believers. (The term “pentecostal” in Rees’ title is typical of Wesleyan/Holiness Movement usage at the time. Only with the rise of the glossolalic Pentecostal Movement around 1900 did the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement develop reservations about the use of the term in identifying themselves. By 1920, they had deliberately ceased to use the term in that way).
72 Also cf. I Cor. 3:1-3. Holiness preachers found a principle ethical “exposition” of Romans 6:6 and I Cor. 3:1-3 in I John 2:15-16. While this passage did not often serve as the text for sermons, it is found everywhere in sermons and the literature, cited as the guideline for sanctified behavior, along with the older Pauline guideline already noted. On the matter of the use of the terms “carnal nature,” etc., as synonyms for original sin/inherited depravity, it must be noted that such usage appears almost suddenly, though Methodist scholars such as Foster had brought the indicated passages to bear in their discussions of entire sanctification. Pope, ibid., III.97, uses the term “carnal mind” as a synonym for “inbred sin,” but seems to warn the reader away from understanding either term to be the theological equivalent of original sin/inherited depravity. By 1900, the terms under discussion were commonly used in Wesleyan/Holiness circles precisely as synonyms for original sin/inherited depravity. A very popular example of this usage was Beverly Carradine, The Old Man (Louisville, Kentucky Methodist Publishing Co., 1896). Another widely circulated work was B.W. Huckabee, The Carnal Mind (publication data not noted, but necessarily published before June, 1907. Cf. Timothy L. Smith, Called Unto Holiness. The Story of the Nazarenes: The Formative Years [Kansas City, MO: Nazarene Publishing House, 1962], p. 217). Also see James Morgan Taylor, The Carnal Mind (Louisville: Pentecostal Publishing Co., 1909).
73 E.g., L[eander] L[ycurgus] Pickett, A Plea for the Present Holiness Movement (Louisville: Pickett Publishing Co.; Garland, TX: M.A. Smith, 1896); A.M. Hills, Pentecost Rejected: and the Effect on the Churches (Cincinnati: Office of God’s Revivalist, 1902), passim, but esp. pp. 90-103. One of the most scathing attacks from within Methodism itself was L.W. Munhall, Breakers! Methodism Adrift (Chicago: Christian Witness Co., 1913). For a statement clearly linking the “Natural Man” (which, to holiness people, meant “carnal humanity”) and an undesirable state of affairs in the Church, cf. esp. pp. 159-165. Also see pp. 179-182, for Munhall’s analysis of the influence of wealth on the Church. Munhall, something of an “insider” for a number of years, brooded long over what he saw as spiritual declension in the Methodist Episcopal Church before he wrote this book.
74 E.g., Seth C. Rees, ibid., 20-34, 82-85; idem, Miracles in the Slums: Or, Thrilling Stories of Those Rescued from the Cesspools of Iniquity, and Touching Incidents in the Lives of the Unfortunate (Chicago: Seth Cook Rees, 1905). Also see, Norris Magnuson, Salvation in the Slums: Evangelical Social Work, 1865-1920 (ATLA Monograph Series, No. 10; Metuchen, NF: Scarecrow Press and American Theological Library Association, 1977). The word “evangelical” in this subtitle refers in very large part to groups and persons associated with the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, the most conspicuous being the Salvation Army.
75 This is to say, their understanding of what had been done for them in entire sanctification led them into contexts of human oppression and suffering, but their first concern in those contexts was not to preach entire sanctification. It was to alleviate physical and emotional need and to accompany that alleviation with the invitation to salvation (i.e., to conversion). Examples could easily be multiplied. Cf., for instance, Lue Miller, “Thanksgiving for Our Rescue Work,” Herald of Holiness 28 Nov. 1917, p. 7. Seth C. Rees, Miracles in the Slums is typical in approach and describes typical work and attitudes and motives behind that work. Also see Herald of Holiness 19 Mar. 1913, p. 16, which has in the left-hand column an article by C.J. Kinne, “A New Rescue Journal,” and in the right-hand column nine one-inch notices for “homes” for “erring girls” run by various groups of Nazarenes and other holiness people. Kinne’s article asks readers whether they had any interest in combining the papers and newsletters of the many such “homes” run by such groups. “Erring girls” were simply one of the rescue interests of holiness people.
76 Adherents to the early Wesleyan/Holiness Movement apparently read much, and the Movement’s leaders tended to be writers (of varying skill). Each group of any size, whether remaining within Methodism or separated from it, and each project of any size printed a regular paper. For instance, four papers with wide constituencies in the Movement lie behind the Herald of Holiness, which was established in 1912, as the “official organ of the Church of the Nazarene.” And behind each of these four lay a series of mergers, for each of the four had at least two direct ancestors. These papers were militantly “second-blessing.” They assumed general Christian orthodoxy on the part of their readers, so only occasionally would there appear articles on theological topics other than conversion and entire sanctification and their corollaries in personal and social ethics. Even such topics as were pressing the consciousness of the evangelical camp in general, such as evolution, the inspiration of Scripture, and premillenialism found only fitful attention in most of these papers before about 1920. Candidates for ministry were expected to read formal systematic theology. In the Church of the Nazarene, John Miley’s Systematic Theologyappeared on the very first (1911) Course of Study for Licensed Ministers (i.e., the reading and examination regimen for persons proceeding toward ordination). It remained there until 1932, although from 1915 to 1932, it was listed with Ralston’s Elements of Divinity as an alternative. Also recommended, but not required, were Samuel Wakefield, ibid., and Benjamin Field, The Student’s Handbook of Christian Theology, with intro by Luke Tyerman, ed. with extensive additions by John C. Symons (New ed.; New York: Methodist Book Concern, 1887). The original edition of this work appeared in Britain some twenty years earlier. No comprehensive systematic theology came from within the Movement until Russell Raymond Byrum’s Christian Theology: A Systematic Statement of Christian Doctrine for the Use of Theological Students (Anderson, IN: Gospel Trumpet Co.) appeared in 1925; but since the 1840s literally thousands of book and booklets on entire sanctification appeared, several of them rather extended theological treatments. Cf. William Charles Miller, ibid., (supra n36) for a useful bibliography of this literature. Much more extensive, and not limited to theology, is Charles Edwin Jones, A Guide to the Study of the Holiness Movement (Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press and the American Theological Library Association, 1974).
77 As yet, there is no comprehensive, critical study of any period in the history of the National Camp Meeting Association for the Promotion of Holiness as it evolved into the present-day Christian Holiness Association. For very useful accounts and critical assessments of its beginnings, which include helpful insights into the personalities involved, see Melvin Easterday Dieter, The Holiness Revival of the Nineteenth Century (ATLA Studies in Evangelicalism, No. 1; Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Pres, 1980), chapter 3; and Charles Edwin Jones, Perfectionist Persuasion: The Holiness Movement and American Methodism, 1867-1936 (ATLA Monograph Series, No. 5; Metuchen, NJ: Scarecrow Press, 1974), chapter 3.
78 Until 1939, the presidents of NCAPH (and its successors) were always Methodist Episcopal ministers; and from 1939-1942, Methodist ministers. The official periodical of the Association-variously, Advocate of Christian Holiness (1870-1881); Advocate of Bible Holiness (1882);Christian Witness (1882-1859)-carried frequent avowals of loyalty to the Methodist Episcopal churches well into the early twentieth century. Episcopal support for the Association’s camp meetings was actively sought and noted. In late 1900 or early 1901, 7 of the 19 active M. E. bishops signed the call for the General Holiness Assembly, which subsequently met in Chicago in May, 1901. Four others were active supporters of the Movement, though their names were not on the call. Two A. M. E. bishops signed. The list of sponsors is in S.B. Shaw, ed., ibid., 11-14.
79 E.g., of the 137 who signed the call for the General Holiness Assembly of 1901, 50 were U.S. or Canadian Methodist Episcopal clergy. Of the 50, as well as can be determined, 38 had some education beyond secondary level. At least 26 had some sort of baccalaureate degree and at least 15 had graduated from an advanced theological seminary program.
80 As noted (supra, n76), the first comprehensive systematic theology written from within the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement was Russell Raymond Byrum’s Christian Theology: . . . (1925), but Byrum’s aggressive restorationist (anti-denominational) stance, typical of his tradition, the Church of God Reformation Movement, limited its circulation. In effect, though certainly not in fact, the first comprehensive theology written from within the Movement was A.M. Hills, Fundamental Christian Theology (2 vols.; Pasadena, CA: CJ. Kinne, Pasadena College, 1931). This work rapidly gained approval for the courses of study of most of the Wesleyan/Holiness bodies, especially those with a strong Methodist root. An earlier comprehensive outline, the first within the Movement, was Edgar P. Ellyson, Theological Compend (Chicago and Boston: Christian Witness Publishing, 1908). Also of prominence among holiness people, though not directly a product of the Movement, was Solomon Jacob Gamertsfeider, Systematic Theology (Harrisburg, PA: Evangelical Publishing House, 1921). The late dates here-around ninety years after the establishment of the Tuesday Meeting for the Promotion of Holiness in the New York City home of Phoebe Palmer and around fifty years after the establishment of NCAPH-seem to demonstrate the point that the Movement tended to limit its theological agenda quite severely. Only two theological issues beside entire sanctification received major attention in the period 1880-1920: premillenialism and “tongues.” Holiness people debated premillenialism from about 1880 to about 1910, with most of them deciding that since respected persons in the Movement held each of the common understandings (pre-, post-, or a-) and each still clearly enjoyed the “second blessing,” they should not make millennialism an issue over which to unite or divide. However, it should be noted that pre-millennialism gradually replaced post-millennialism as the dominant position. The great majority of the Movement rejected “tongues” as a necessary evidence or accompaniment of the experience of entire sanctification. A divine healing vs. scientific medicine debate interested some in the period from c. 1900-c. 1920, but most holiness people held that modern medicine was a not-to-be-slighted, God-given means of healing. Theological liberalism received almost no attention in holiness circles until well after the onset of the Fundamentalist Controversy. In fact, they tended to see so-called Christocentric liberalism more as an eccentric friend than as an enemy, as the popularity of Sheldon’s In His Steps testifies. Only after about 1920 did Fundamentalism significantly affect the Movement. Cf. Paul M. Bassett, “The Fundamentalist Leavening of the Holiness Movement: 1914-1940 . . . ,” Wesleyan Theological Journal 13 (Spring, 1978), 65-91.
81 Cf. Charles Edwin Jones, A Guide to the Study of the Holiness Movement, 567-797. Of the approximately 1800 personal names listed in this biographical section, 288 (16%) are listed as having served as itinerant evangelists at some point in their careers. Of these 288, about half appear to have closed their careers by 1930, and about 40 of these pre-1930 holiness evangelists devoted almost their entire ministry to itinerant evangelism. The others served also as pastors, administrators and teachers. Few Wesleyan/Holiness periodicals were without lists of “evangelist’s slates”-i.e., the evangelists’ itineraria for a given month or two-and the news columns of these periodicals were largely given over to reports of the work of the evangelists, especially in revival meetings in local congregations and in camp meetings.
82 While complete biographical information concerning the education of most of the 288 evangelists listed in Jones’ work is very difficult to find within any reasonable amount of time, especially for those serving before 1930, we do have some revealing data. About 70% of the 288 had either attended college or Bible school, or had come through the Methodist Course of Study for Traveling Preachers. Of the approximately 40 who appear to have devoted most of their careers to evangelism, only half seem to have had that much education. This is to say, most of those evangelists who do not seem to have completed some kind of educational curriculum in theology were full-time, career evangelists.
83 This is readily apparent in the reports of revival meetings and camp meetings in the news columns of the holiness periodicals. They are full of numbers.
84 E.g., J. A. Wood, ibid., 306-308. This became a common theme after about 1900. E.g., see the listings under “Smith, Joseph Henry,” and “Watson, George Douglas,” in Miller, ibid, for ana, sermons, and essays on this theme.
85 See, for instance, Church of the Nazarene, “Articles of Faith,” Manual . . . , 1908. For an example of the tendency to assume a general Protestant orthodoxy while emphasizing several doctrines quite precisely, cf. “Address to the Holiness People, from the General Holiness Convention in Fort Scott, Kansas, June 27th 1888,” in C.E. Cowan, A History of the Church of God (Holiness) (Overland Park, KS: Herald and Banner Press, 1949), “Appendix A,” pp. 219-222.
86 Cf. Donald W. Dayton, Theological Roots of Pentecostalism (Grand Rapids: Francis Asbury Press/Zondervan Publishing House, 1987), pp. 35-113; also see pp. 185-186 for a very useful bibliographical note on the debate over Dayton’s position to 1987. The debate has not really advanced since then, and to date, Dayton’s interpretation of the relationship of early Pentecostalism and the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement seems to me the most satisfactory of the several proposed.
87 E.g., Alma White, Demons and Tongues (Bound Brook, NJ: Pentecostal Union, 1910), passim;W.B. Godbey, Bible Theology (Cincinnati: God’s Revivalist Office, 1911), pp. 185-206; G.W. Ridout,The Deadly Fallacy of Spurious Tongues (Louisville: Pentecostal Publishing Co., c.1912), passim. An earlier, related controversy had led the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement to consider many of the exegetical issues raised by Pentecostalism before Pentecostalism actually became an issue. By the 1880s, most holiness people identified Acts 2:1-4 as the story of the entire sanctification of Jesus’ disciples, and they often referred to entire sanctification as “the baptism with the Spirit,” or “Spirit-baptism.” They believed this “baptism with the Spirit” to be the “second crisis experience,” the “second blessing,” for the earliest Christians and for themselves. Exegetically, they saw Acts 2:1-4 as the fulfillment of Matt. 3:11-12 (Luke 3:16-17). By the late 1880s, however, some holiness people were reading the given texts quite literally. They saw in the gospel passages the promise of two works of grace beyond justification or conversion, for the passages promised a “baptism with the Holy Ghost and with fire” (KJV), and they saw in the imagery of the Acts narrative a literal confirmation of the gospel promise, for the text reported both “the sound as of a mighty rushing wind,” and “cloven tongues like as of fire that sat on each of (the 120).” Here was baptism with Spirit and baptism with fire. So, they taught that there were three works of grace, usually referring to the last of them simply as “the fire.” And “the fire” surpassed even entire sanctification in power. They taught that entire sanctification cleanses the believer from “inbred sin” and “the fire” confirms the cleansing and brings spiritual power. The Wesleyan/Holiness Movement generally turned its back to these people, so they went their way and came to be known as the Fire-Baptized Holiness People. Many of them later entered the Pentecostal Movement. Cf. E.P. Ellyson, ibid., 82-87, 118-128, for a rather typical Wesleyan/Holiness rejoinder to the “fire-baptized.” Cp. with W.B. Godbey, Tongue Movement. Satanic (Zarephath, NJ: Pillar of Fire, 1918), passim, which, though it is in Godbey’s eccentric style, repeats typical Wesleyan/Holiness Movement anti-tongues arguments. This tract may also be found in W.B. Godbey, Six Tracts, in a 1985 reprint edited by D. William Faupel in the series edited by Donald W. Dayton, “‘The Higher Christian Life’: Sources for the Study of the Holiness, Pentecostal, and Keswick Movements” (48 vols.; New York and London: Garland Publishing, 1985-).
88 See, for instance, W. B. Godbey, ibid., 9-11, 23-27.
89 See, for instance, B. S. Taylor, Sermon of Wednesday evening, 8 May, 1901, in S.B. Shaw, ed.,ibid., 193-206. Taylor does not use the term “carnality,” but the concept is clearly operant. he argues that “holiness,” by which he means “entire sanctification,” will enable his hearers to obey the “commands” in Matthew 5. He believes that Jesus is speaking here to those already converted and he both implies and avers that much of the church is converted but not entirely sanctified, as may be judged by its behavior. In fact, most of the sermons at the 1901 General Holiness Assembly in Chicago carry or imply this kind of critique of the Church-especially of the Methodist Episcopal Church. More directly critical, and taking on the author’s own denomination, but from the same theological salient, is G.W. Ridout, Present Crisis in Methodism (Louisville: Pentecostal Publishing Co., n.d. [but before 1920]). This theme occurs constantly in the holiness periodicals of the time. E.g., G.W. Wilson, “A Few Reasons Why, as Methodists, We Have Not Succeeded Better,”The Christian Witness and Advocate of Bible Holiness 22 Mar. 1900, 9.
90 E.g., an article by an exceptionally able Harvard undergraduate named Walter Lippmann, “In Defense of Suffragettes,” Harvard Monthly 11 (1909), quoted in Ronald Steel, Walter Lippmann and the American Century (New York: Atlantic-Little, Brown, 1980), p. 26: “They are unladylike, just as the Boston Tea Party was ungentlemanly, and our Civil War bad form. But unfortunately in this world great issues are not won by good manners.” On the matter of fashions, the 11 February 1920 issue of H.C. Morrison’s Pentecostal Herald is almost entirely devoted to what the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement called “the dress question.” For then-contemporary general discussion of the behavior of the “New Woman” (the popular term about 1910), see for instance, E. Martin, The Unrest of Women (New York: Appleton, 913), and E.K. Key, The Woman Movement(New York: Putnam, 1912).
91 See, for instance, Lydia Kingsmill Commander, The American Idea (New York: A.S. Barnes, 1907; reprint, New York: Arno, 1972), and Charlotte (Parker) Stetson Gilman, Our Man-Made World: Or Androcentric Culture (New York: Chariton, 1911).
92 This is a strong note in such works as Jane Addams, Twenty Years at Hull House (New York: Phillips/Macmillan, 1910), for instance. Also see Ida M. Tarbell, The Business of Being a Woman(New York: Macmillan, 1912).
93 One is not for as moment saying or implying here that American Protestantism in the period under study generally supported the women’s movement. In fact, the record shows more opposition than support. (The Wesleyan/Holiness and Pentecostal movements were marked but quite inconsistent exceptions to this dismal record even then.) This has been documented in a number of then-contemporary works, among which see, for instance, Charlotte (Parker) Stetson Gilman, His Religion and Hers: A Study in the Faith of our Fathers and the Work of Our Mothers(New York: Century, 1923). The encouragement of women’s organizations within and among denominations for carrying forward missionary and philanthropic enterprises sometimes arose from male desires to keep the women from the levers of denominational power and to divert their energies from the tasks of reform within the ecclesiastical structures themselves; and sometimes it arose from the understandings of the women themselves that here were avenues of service and bases from which reform of even those ecclesiastical structures could be launched. (Careful studies of these matters in all of their complexity now abound.) But for all of that which could produce cynicism in the contemporary reader, for a short period, from abut 1885 to about 1900, church leadership generally supported women engaged in progressivist causes for the purpose of serving the causes themselves. However, after the general election of 1900, progressivism became more and more the instrument of professional politicians, and the women were either set aside or encouraged to channel their activities in ways unthreatening to male control of the society at large. The churches, increasingly reflecting the culture, especially reflecting cultural understandings of what makes a leader, followed suit. Important both as illustration and as model here is Theodore Roosevelt, whose Senior Dissertation at Harvard, presented in June, 1880, was entitled “The Practicability of Equalizing Men and Women Before the Law,” in which he argued the progressive case. By the time he was President, he was taking a much more conservative stance, largely, he argued, because of his concern for preserving the traditional family (he especially abhorred the notion of a deliberately childless marriage). In his 1912 campaign to regain the Presidency, he advocated women’s suffrage, but as a political ploy more than as a “cause.”
94 The rise of millenarianism in North America created a spirit and a vocabulary which allowed no room for reverent agnosticism or theological neutrality regarding the question, “What is the chronological relationship of the Second Coming of Christ to the Millennium?” By the end of the nineteenth century, the Methodists, who had always believed that by the grace of God they really were winning the battle to establish scriptural, social holiness, and that by the grace of God they were actually preparing the world for the Lord’s Return, were pushed to define their position as “post-millennialism,” but they were impatient with all of the conservative concern for labels and theological nicety. They intended to win the modern world, the “new day,” just as they had won nineteenth-century America. The commitment of Methodist writers to proclaiming the faith in “our modern day” in an up-to-date fashion produced a spate of books and articles on that and related topics Most of them were thoroughly melioristic, believing that the Gospel has seasoned and will continue to season society for the better and that Methodists should not tolerate the kinds of ideological or theological conservatism which produce (and are produced by) a pessimism about history and about the future which simply does not square with the data since the Incarnation nor with the biblical promises about the coming of the kingdom. But it takes some time before this perspective finds systematic expression in a Methodist theologian. Milton S. Terry, Biblical Hermeneutics: A Treatise on the Interpretation of the Old and New Testaments, Vol. II of “The Library of Hurst, eds. (“New ed., thoroughly revised”; New York: Hunt and Eaton; Cincinnati: Cranston and Curts, 1894), pp. 374-378, roundly rejects pre-millennialism, which Terry calls “Chiliasm,” largely because it simply fails to recognize the progress in religion and civilization which the work of the Church in preaching the Gospel has wrought since the Incarnation. Miley, writing his systematic theology a year earlier did not treat Millennialism, for it was then only beginning to force its way into Methodist circles. Olin Alfred Curtis, The Christian Faith Personally Given in a System of Doctrine (New York: Eaton and Mains; Cincinnati: Jennings and Graham, 1905), pp. 445-447, refers to the millennial question briefly, with keen awareness of its exegetical complexity. He salutes, without arguing for, post-millennialism and refers us to Terry’s work (cited above) and to Stephen Merrill, The Second Coming of Christ (New York: Phillips and Hunt, 1879). Merrill does not really work with the millenarian issue because it did not yet exist. The first considered treatment of it from within Methodism is in Henry C. Sheldon, System of Christian Doctrine (Cincinnati: Jennings and Graham; New York: Eaton and Mains, 1903), pp. 540-551. Sheldon is, of course, clearly post-millennial, though he tends to avoid labels and to describe his own perspective without being forced to raise or answer questions in terms set by the increasingly vocal and powerful pre-millennialists. Like Terry, Sheldon believes that since the Incarnation earthly life and civilization have bettered, thanks to the leavening influence of the Gospel. He also believes that millenarian doctrine will only destroy the progress already made toward the full expression of the kingdom of God on earth and retard future progress toward that goal.
95 Some leading and influential Methodist theologians believed that several of the modern theories of progress had been reconciled with the Biblical message. In part, this had been done by redefining the Biblical message, of course. To cite a specific example, we note the general influence of personal idealism or personalism on Methodism as it came from Bowne, Brightman, and others. Cf. Robert S. Chiles, Theological Transition in American Methodism: 1790-1935 (New York/Nashville: Abingdon Press, 1965), pp. 62-75, esp. p. 64nn45-46, for critical data on the point.
96 E.g., as early as 1891, John P. Brooks, ibid., 273-275, quotes extensively from an uncited work of Methodist Episcopal Bishop Randolph S. Foster. One of Foster’s charges: “The ball, the theatre, nude and lewd art, social luxuries, with all their loose moralities, are making inroads into the sacred enclosure of the Church . . .” (p. 273). Also see J.A. Wood, ibid., 303-304; the scathing attack of evangelist L.W. Munhall, ibid., esp. 166-178; and Beverly Carradine, ibid., 200-219, where Carradine draws a sharp distinction between “comeoutism” and “putoutism,” condemning the former, sympathizing with the latter. Carradine himself remained in the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, as an influential pastor.
97 E.g., Luther Lee, Women’s Right To Preach the Gospel: A Sermon, Preached at the Ordination of the Rev. Miss Antoinette L. Brown (Syracuse: by the author, 1853); B.T. Roberts, Ordaining Women (Rochester, NY: Earnest Christian Publishing House, 1891); Catherine Booth [title page has Mrs. Booth], Female Ministry; or, Women’s Right To Preach the Gospel (London: Morgan and Chase, n.d.); and Fannie McDowell Hunter, Women Preachers (Dallas: Berachah Printing Co., 1905). Each of these is reprinted in Donald W. Dayton, ed., Holiness Tracts Defending the Ministry of Women in “‘The Higher Christian Life’: Sources for the Study of the Holiness, Pentecostal, and Keswick Movements” (48 vols.; New York and London: Garland Publishing, 1985-). Also see Phoebe Palmer, Promise of the Father: Or, A Neglected Speciality of the Last Days (Boston: Henry V. Degen, 1859), passim; Seth C. Rees, The Ideal Pentecostal Church, 40-41; W.B. Godbey,Woman Preacher (Atlanta: Office of the Way of Life, 1891), passim.
98 Wesleyan/Holiness preachers and writers seem to have renewed very powerfully the related themes of submission and surrender to Christ and of self vs. Christ around the beginning of the new century. Especially noteworthy is the unexpectedly warm welcome received in the more strictly Wesleyan sectors of the Movement of works by those of Keswick persuasion, given the emphasis placed upon the differences between them. Keswickians had long made the themes of submission or surrender central to their message of entire sanctification, while for Wesleyans it had been a sub-theme (albeit an important sub-theme) of consecration. Now, the Wesleyans moved it closer to the center of their message and made it much more prominent. Among the works of the Keswickians which now found great usefulness among Wesleyan/Holiness people were F.B. Meyer, The Directory of the Devout Life: Meditations on the Sermon on the Mount (New York: Fleming Revell, 1904); and A.B. Simpson, The Self Life and the Christ Life (New York: Christian Alliance Publishing, 1897). The Wesleyan/Holiness press advertised these heavily and Wesleyan/Holiness preachers cited them often. Also signal of the new importance of the theme of submission and of the rejection of any secular notions of self-assertion is the decade-long debate among the Nazarenes over the place of entire consecration in the chronology of entire sanctification. Must it precede or does it follow entire sanctification? The official decision of the denominational General Assembly (1928) was that entire consecration must precede entire sanctification. Cf. Church of the Nazarene, Manual, Articles of Faith, Article X.
99 E.g., B. Carradine, The Sanctified Life (Cincinnatie: M.W. Knapp, Pentecostal Publisher, The Revivalist, 1897), pp. 77-88; Seth C. Rees, ibid., 40-41; H[annah] W[hitall] Smith, The Christian’s Secret of a Happy Life (Boston and Chicago: Christian Witness, 1885), pp. 119-132; Daniel Steele,Mile-Stone Papers . . . , 262-279. This is not to say that the themes were not used within the Movement as instruments of subjugation or that women in the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement did not face sexist discrimination. It is only to say that within the nineteenth-century Wesleyan/Holiness Movement itself, such discrimination was comparatively rare, and it almost never went uncritiqued. E.g., see Harold Raser, Phoebe Palmer: Her Life and Thought (Vol. 22, “Studies in Women and Religion”; Lewiston and Queenstown: Edwin Mellen Press, 1987), pp. 364-365nn162-163, for sources pertaining to Palmer also see Magnuson, ibid., 112-117, for an apropos discussion of Catherine Booth.
100 The most radical positions on this matter were taken by John P. Brooks, ibid., 103-109; and D[aniel] S[idney] Warner, The Church of God: What the Church of God Is and What It Is Not(Moundsville, WV: Gospel Trumpet Company, 1902[?]). Almost all of the principal legislative assemblies of the holiness bodies included laity as elected representatives. Few of them set any rule concerning gender. Also important in this regard was the Holiness Movement’s absolute rejection of any ethical “double standard” with respect to gender. Cf. for example, B.F. Haynes, “But One Standard” (editorial) in Herald of Holiness Dec. 11, 1912, p. 1.
101 From no later than about 1891, it becomes clear that the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement will firmly commit itself to affirming the right of women to participate in the legislative/executive life of the holiness bodies and in its ordained ministry. Several works appeared about then defending the latter proposition and they appear to speak as much, if not more, to opposition outside the Movement as to opposition within. See, for instance, the sources noted supra, n97. By 1905, the Movement as a whole had answered the question in the affirmative. The principal denominational “hold out” was the Free Methodists, but feeling against ordaining women was hardly unanimous there. B.T. Roberts himself, as much as anyone the founder of the denomination, stoutly advocated throughout his career the right of women to ordination. The widespread support in the Movement for women in ordained ministry made it difficult for the Movement’s grassroots to have much feeling for those outside it who believed themselves to be oppressed in this regard. The Movement was intensely evangelistic and simply invited all who would to join them, which meant that they saw themselves as offering an alternative to that kind of oppression. A.M. Hills’ “Introduction” to Fannie McDowell Hunter, Women Preachers is very telling in this matter. Hunter intended her work as an apologia; Hills saw it as an encouragement to women contemplating ordained ministry. So, he ends his commendation of Hunter, her work, and her book, by saying, “May many saintly women be encouraged by the reading of these pages to be obedient to their Heavenly vision.” Almost simultaneously, then, the Holiness Movement came to accept almost without any demur the full right of women to participation in the legislative/administrative processes of the various ecclesiastical bodies and to ordination to the ministry and to a certain reluctance to support much of the new social feminism. Yet, the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement did support much of the feminist political agenda: e.g., B.F. Haynes, “Material Millennialism” (editorial) in Herald of Holiness May 15, 1912, pp. 1-2. [As was noted earlier, the Herald of Holiness was the product of a merger of several smaller holiness periodicals. Its initial year was 1912, which makes its espousal of then-radical causes all the more remarkable.] Also see E.A. Girvin, Domestic Duels: or, Evening Talks on the Woman Question (San Fransisco E.D. Bronson and Co., 1898). This work was written too early to treat the newer feminism directly, but it anticipates many of the issues raised by that movement and the responses that it would elicit from the Holiness Movement.
102 Cf. Bernard Bailyn, et al., The Great Republic: A History of the American People (Boston and Toronto: Little, Brown and Company, 1977), pp. 959-967 for an overview which admirably sums up research into “the rise of social feminism” in the context of the post-Gilded Age American culture. Esp. cf. p. 960: “The new social feminism, fed by the ideas of European artists and intellectuals like Ibsen, Nietzsche, and Bergson, postulated a new kind of individualism and self-realization. The Western revolt against positivism and the discovery of the irrational that swept across the Atlantic in the last years of the nineteenth century provided women as well as men with new standards of social and sexual behavior not fully legitimized by the moral politics of progressivism. It was precisely here that the challenge of feminism seemed so disquieting. The revolt began inauspiciously as an uprising of young educated women against the concept of self-denial.” Also see Elizabeth Holding, Joy, the Deaconess (New York: Dutton, n.d.), which offered a mild critique of the secular feminist themes of “self-development” and “self-assertion.” it found general favor in the Holiness Movement. Nazarene Publishing House offered it for sale. The Herald of Holiness March 19, 1913, p. 14, advertised it as: “A beautiful story of mercy and help as manifested in the life of an orphan girl, who chose to serve others rather than self.”
103 Cf., for instance, three editorials by B.F. Haynes, “Dress and Deviltry,” Herald of HolinessAugust 28, 1912, p. 2; “Secular Press to the Rescue,” ibid., p. 3; “The Tyranny of Fashion,” Herald of Holiness October 16, 1912, p. 3. The Wesleyan/Holiness Movement had long opposed smoking and the drinking of alcohol as a beverage, and now the secular feminists seemed to them to be urging that these two practices in particular be made identifying public marks, even the identifying public marks, of what was being called “The New Woman,” thereby earning the Movement’s censure of even the nomenclature. In 1912 alone, the Herald of Holiness carried at least 43 editorials or extended editorial comments on tobacco and 54 on alcoholic beverages; at least 15 of those on tobacco and at least 18 of those on liquor express concern over increased public indulgence by women. Almost always Haynes and other writers in the Herald of Holiness referred to both smoking and drinking as forms of addiction or slavery. Also cf. B.F. Haynes, “Freedom and Slavery,” Herald of Holiness December 13, 1916, p. 3, which does not mention anything in particular but works with a perceived reversal of the meanings of the terms in the 1910s. Haynes’ readers would have had little difficulty in applying his article to the secular women’s movement and several other matters at the time, given Haynes’ record of concerns. Probably even more critical in describing the Holiness Movement’s attitude toward women’s public indulgence in these habits is the Movement’s tendency to relate that indulgence to the so-called “white slave trade” then rampant in some American cities. Cf. March 19, 1913 issue of Herald of Holiness, which is devoted entirely to “rescue work.” Cf. esp. Jennie A. Hodgin, “Traps for Girls,” p. 10.
104 Cf., for instance, N.B. Herrell, “Our Stand on the Dress Question,” Herald of Holiness, February 25, 1920, pp. 12-13; see esp. the section entitled “Women Commercialized” (p. 12). Also see C.F. Wimberly, “‘Sartorial Monomaniacs,’” Pentecostal Herald, February 11, 1920, p. 4; A. Sims, “The Goddess of Fashion,” ibid.,5; Mrs. Barrett, “An Enemy of Spiritual life,” ibid.,9 (“One of the worst sins of this world is fashion”). On the matter of dancing, cf. G.W. Ridout, “Shall We Let Down the Bars?” Pentecostal Herald, January 28, 1920, p. 4; Andrew Johnson, “The Dance Devil Is Doing Things Up Brown,” Pentecostal Herald, January 14, 1920, p. 4. For a general ethical analysis, cf. I.H. Dawson, “High Cost of Living. Who’s to Blame?” Pentecostal Herald, February 25, 1920, pp. 10-11. The Pentecostal Herald, published at Wilmore, Kentucky, by H.C. Morrison, prominent Methodist Episcopal Church, South, pastor and evangelist, and president of independent Asbury College, commented continuously in early 1920 on the upcoming General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church (North), particularly because the Conference would discuss dropping paragraph 69, the rule against dancing, theater-going, and games of chance. Cf. G.W. Ridout, “Open Letter to Dr. John L. Brasher, Delegate to General Conference,” Pentecostal Herald, March 10, 1920, pp. 3, 7.
105 Cf. B.F. Haynes, “A Center for Debauchery” (editorial), Herald of Holiness, December 13, 1916, pp. 2-3. Also see Seth Cook Rees, Miracles in the Slums: or, Thrilling Stories of Those Rescued from the Cesspools of Iniquity, and Touching Incidents in the Lives of the Unfortunate (Chicago: Seth Cook Rees, 1905). In almost all of the stories reported by Rees, alcohol, tobacco, and a concern for fashion are listed as elements in the basic social problem, which is usually prostitution. Of course, the truly fundamental problem is sinfulness, or, as Rees and others would have said it, “carnality.” Also see the entire issue of the Herald of Holiness, May 2, 1917, p. 1.
106 Cf. E.A. Girvin, ibid., passim; Emily Ellyson, Woman’s Sphere in Gospel Service (Kansas City, Mo: Publishing House of the Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene, n.d.), passim [the date would perforce be between 1912 and 1919]; B.F. Haynes, “Cruelty to the Most Needy and Helpless” (editorial), Herald of Holiness, August 14, 1912, p. 2. Haynes argues for absolute equality for women before the law. He makes the same point again in “The Double Standard” (editorial),Herald of Holiness, May 2, 1917, p. 1.
107 In late 1919 and early 1920, almost every issue of the Pentecostal Herald expressed concern for what the editor understood to be upcoming discussion concerning the status of paragraph 69 in the Discipline of the Methodist Episcopal Church (North). Cf. supra, n104. Cf. esp. G.W. Ridout, “To Arms . . . Ye Methodists,” Pentecostal Herald, March 31, 1920, p. 3. The Herald of Holiness, too, showed considerable interest in the General Conference and its discussion, but presented only a very short item on it every other week or so. Often the approach was one of comparison with Methodism, which was seen as decaying while the Nazarenes were holding steady along the “old lines.” E.g., B.F. Haynes, “Immoral Dressing,” Herald of Holiness, March 2, 1921, p. 3. This is an editorial commentary on an editorial in the Pacific Christian Advocate which severely criticized the dress of American women in general and Methodist women in particular. Haynes’ comment is essentially that Methodism has acted too weakly and too late. Cf. for instance, John Matthews, The Rise and Fall of the Church of the Nazarene (n.p., 1920), in which the author excoriates the denomination for compromise with evil, which, to him, was a matter of refusing to press behavioral rules on the membership and too much concern for administrative machinery. That is to say, as Matthews sees it, the identity of the denomination should lie precisely in its ethic, which must be more consistent and stricter than that of the (now corrupt) tradition from which it originally came. For the Free Methodists, see Benson Howard Roberts, compiler, ibid., in which B.T. Roberts assumes that the Free Methodists are the true Methodists and identifies true Methodists as those who maintain behavior conformable to the Discipline.
108 The theological leadership of the Movement struggled with this shift. In works written to its own constituency, the holiness press actually gave much attention to refuting the idea that the principal expression of original sin/inherited depravity is lust or concupiscence. The degree of attention given the matter indicates the popularity of the notion among the grassroots. Cf. for instance, V.E. Ramsey, “Un-Methodistic Teaching,” Pentecostal Herald, March 30, 1898, p. 7, and April 17, 1898, p. 2. This is a response to the notion of a J.W. Cunningham that “sanctification means chastity and nothing more.” Also see B.W. Huckabee, ibid., 106-109, 116-119; and A.B. Simpson, Wholly Sanctified (Harrisburg, PA: Christian Publications, 1925), pp. 73-95. (Published posthumously; Simpson died in 1919). But for examples of theological statements which gave reason for the grassroots to identify original sin with lust, cf. Edgar P. Ellyson, Theological Compend (Chicago and Boston: Christian Witness, 1908 [preface is dated 1905]), pp. 104-106; and J.W. Gillies, “To What, in Humanity, Does Temptation Appeal?” Herald of Holiness, April 24, 1912, pp. 7-9.
109 Cf. for instance, B. Carradine, The Old Man (Louisville: Kentucky Methodist Publishing Co., 1897), pp. 55-82; Benson Howard Roberts, compiler, ibid., pp. 1-12.
110 The library of Nazarene Theological Seminary, Kansas City, Missouri, maintains a “Sermon Text File,” which lists texts, preachers, and sources of printed sermons in the library’s holdings. By checking these texts over against the content of the sermons themselves and the copyright dates and other dates of publication and presentation, I was able to determine, roughly, that in the period up to 1900, Johannine texts appear to have been utilized approximately twice as frequently as Pauline texts in holiness sermons. In the 1910s, such texts as I John 2:15-17 and John 17:17, appear to have been utilized at least twice as often, proportionately, as they had been used in the entire three decades prior to that time, even when an allowance is made for the fact that the file lists almost three times as many sermons for the later period as for the earlier. It should be noted that Romans 7 and Hebrews 12:14 also gained great popularity in the same period, though it was not so great as that of the Johannine texts noted.
111 There was, of course, a curious ambivalence about the moral status of the United States, especially as the clouds of the Great War gathered. Perhaps no nationally known preacher expressed it so well as Billy Sunday. Cf. Bernard A. Weisberger, They Gathered at the River: The Story of the Great Revivalists and Their Impact upon Religion in America (Boston and Toronto: Little, Brown and Co., 1958), esp. pp. 255-265, the account of Sunday’s April-June, 1917 campaign in New York City. For an earlier expression, from within the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement, see B.F. Haynes, “Shall Rome’s Fall be Repeated?” (editorial comment on The World of Today), Herald of Holiness, August 28, 1912, p. 3; idem, “Colossal Opportunity About To Be Lost” (editorial comment on article in Herald and Presbyter claiming that the U.S. is being converted “into Sodom”), Herald of Holiness, March 4, 1914, pp. 3-4.
112 E.g., Basil W. Miller and U.E. Harding, Cunningly Devised Fables: Modernism Exposed and Refuted (n.p., n.d.), pp. 89-91. (This work was published in Kansas City for the authors by the Nazarene Publishing House in about 1921 and it was advertised widely in the Wesleyan/Holiness press.)
113 E.g., Charles Franklin Wimberly, The Moving Picture: A Careful Survey of a Difficult Problem(Louisville: Pentecostal Publishing, 1917). In 1912 and 1913, scattered favorable references appear in the Herald of Holiness; however, by 1914, if not sooner, the editor, B.F. Haynes, is warning against the movies. By the end of 1916, he is sharply opposed to them, but seems to be arguing a bit with some who are saying that they should not be condemned outright. Cf. B.F. Haynes, “A Center and Source for Debauchery” (editorial), Herald of Holiness, December 13, 1916, pp. 2-3. Haynes, drawing from a number of ecclesiastical and secular sources, states that he simply will listen no more to those in the Church who would suggest that the movies might do church people good. He goes on to pan the movie industry’s National Board of Censorship as unable and unwilling to do the necessary correcting simply because the industry has learned that lurid and lewd make money. The character of the industry is set, says he. The very titles and advertising devices it uses give it away. It is clearly in the Devil’s control. From that point, the Church of the Nazarene moved ever closer to an absolute proscription (which it never achieved) of all movies but those produced for educational purposes. It simply interpreted its original rule against the theater as applying to the cinema. The Wesleyans and the Free Methodists and several smaller Wesleyan/Holiness groups were even stricter than the Nazarenes. The general complaint against the theater, including the movies, was their flagrant sensuality, especially their demeaning of women. Until the 1960s it was common for Wesleyan/Holiness colleges to prohibit student dramatic productions.
114 See, for instance, H.C. Morrison, “The Blind Leading the Blind” (editorial), Pentecostal Herald, March 10, 1920, p. 8; N.B. Herrell, ibid.; B.F. Haynes, “The Growing Curse of the Age” (editorial),Herald of Holiness, January 26, 1921, pp.1-2.
115 While few of the Methodist theologians upon whom the nineteenth-century Wesleyan/Holiness Movement drew even addressed the question of sexuality, this was the case with those who did. See, for instance, William Burt Pope, ibid., I. 421-436 and III. 237-245.
116 In some sense, this shift also appears to have been a maneuver which would allow holiness people to admit, with wonted charity, that many non-holiness folk were indeed Christians. Those folk did not follow the behavioral rigors of the Movement only because they were not entirely sanctified. More important at this point is the constant flow of reminders to holiness people that entire sanctification did not curtail sexuality, and that the fact that it did not was not to be regretted. On this issue, as on the matter of identifying carnality with lust, the holiness grassroots seem to have taken the more simplistic position, and the Movement’s writers and scholars sought to correct it. See, for instance, B.W. Huckabee, ibid., 106-119, in which Huckabee discusses “What we do not lose in sanctification” and “What we do not lose in eradication.” Also see supra, n108.
117 See, for example, Anonymous, “Heart of the Rose,” Herald of Holiness, June 11, 1913, pp. 8-9; E.J. Marvin, “Purity and Loyalty,” Herald of Holiness, October 11, 1916, pp. 5-6; N.B. Herrell,ibid.; and B.F. Haynes, ibid.
118 Cf. Timothy L. Smith, ibid., 294-296. Smith recounts the story of the decision of the 1928 General Assembly of the Church of the Nazarene to disapprove mixed public “bathing” (i.e. swimming) but without putting it in the “General Rules” of the Manual and thus making it church law. Later, the General Superintendents decided to put it among the Appendices of the Manual, apparently meaning to say that it was not law but was at least advice from a General Assembly and thus a significant word to the conscience of the denomination. But this only exacerbated an already decades-long debate-a debate that only surfaced when Nazarenes from one geographical region met Nazarenes from another-over the nature of the “General Rules,” which were not in an appendix but were part of the denominational constitution: Are they rules or advices?
119 A favorite altar call song at the time was “Tell Mother I’ll Be There”; the Herald of Holinesscarried a page which first bore the title “Mother and the Little Ones” and, later in the period, “The Home”; a popular song of the period was “My Mother’s Old Bible Is True.” The Nazarenes developed an interesting strategy. From the beginning, in addition to women preachers, they had commissioned deaconesses. The Herald of Holiness, from the late 1920s, is nearly silent on the matter of women entering the ordained ministry (significant numbers still were), but it turns with some vigor to encourage the development of a strong corps of deaconesses. Cf. Mrs. N.B. Welch, “The Deaconess in History,” Herald of Holiness, October 20, 1920, pp. 7-9; October 27, 1920, pp. 6-7, 9. Apparently a book with the same title was proposed and sent to the publisher, but there seems to be no record of its being printed. Cp. Elsie Ridout, “Women in the Work of the Kingdom,”Herald of Holiness, November 26, 1919, pp. 6-7. Says she: “Hand in hand, man and woman build the home; hand in hand they ought to build State and Church.” But she ends her article by citing a poem (whose author I do not know): “Not she, with trait’rous kiss her Saviour stung/ Not she denied Him with unholy tongue,/ She, while apostles shrank, could longer brave,/ Last at the cross and earliest at the grave.”
120 Cf. supra, nn49-62.
121 Cf. supra, nn72-75, 89.
122 Cf. infra, nn134-139.
123 Cf. supra, nn9-14, 30-35, 47.
124 Required reading for candidates preparing for ordination in almost all holiness groups: John Wesley, Plain Account of Christian Perfection (ed. cit.) XI. 366-466 and reprinted under separate cover many times and places; William Arthur, Tongue of Fire: Or, The True Power of Christianity(London: Hamilton, Adams, and Co., and John Mason; New York: Harper and Brothers, 1856), also many reprints and editions; A.M. Hills, Holiness and Power for the Church and the Ministry; and Daniel Steele, Mile-Stone Papers. Doctrinal, Ethical, and Experimental on Christian Progress.
125 Each of the works listed here is an example of caricature or near-caricature of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement’s formal doctrines of original sin/inherited depravity and sanctity. However, none of the works cited here was thought at the time to be eccentric, and all were quite popular and effective. Probably the best-known and most popular holiness evangelist in the first four decades of the twentieth century was Reuben (Bud) Robinson (1860-1942), a self-educated cowboy who began his evangelistic career in the Methodist Episcopal Church, South, then served very briefly in the Salvation Army and a bit longer in the Methodist Episcopal Church (North) before settling with the Church of the Nazarene. Cf. Reuben (Bud) Robinson, A Pitcher of Cream(Louisville: Pickett Publishing, 1906); The Story of Lazarus (Louisville: Pentecostal Publishing, 1909); The King’s Gold Mine: Or, The Conversion and Sanctification of the Disciples (Peniel, TX: Pentecostal Advocate, n.d.); William Edward Shepard, How to Get Sanctified (Cincinnati: Revivalist Press, 1916); idem, Holiness Typology (San Francisco: W.E. Shepard, Publisher, 1896); C.W. Ruth,Bible Readings on the Second Blessing (Chicago: Christian Witness, 1905); idem, The Second Crisis in the Christian Experience (Chicago: Christian Witness, 1913). H.A. Baldwin, Holiness and the Human Element (Kansas City, MO: Beacon Hill Press, 1919), p. ii, simply states that he and others writing on holiness are not appealing to the intellect but to the soul.
126 Cf., for instance, Beverly Carradine, The Old Man (Louisville: Kentucky Methodist Publishing Co., 1897), pp. 178-187; Edgar P. Ellyson, ibid., 163-168; B.W. Huckabee, ibid., 139-156; W.E. Shepard, How to Get Sanctified; E.E. Shelhamer, Popular and Radical Holiness Contrasted; or, Holiness, What It Is, How Obtained and How Retained (Atlanta: E.E. Shelhamer, 1906), p. 28-32, 34-53. In Carradine, one finds a transitional writer. He begins by saying, “(the great deliverance) being a divine work and deliverance, it is not an attainment, but an obtainment.” But his commitment to the phraseology of Phoebe Palmer finally contradicts this statement. See also Carradine, Revival Sermons (Chicago Christian Witness, 1897), pp. 196-224, his sermon on entire sanctification, esp. pp. 216-224. On p. 220: “In a word we are to live the sanctified life before we get the sanctified blessing This very thing is to prove to God the fact and measure of our desire for the grace.” Huckabee and Shepard are typical in their statements of “how to get the blessing.” Another transitional figure who understands the problem but really seems not to know his classical Wesleyanism well enough to escape it is A.M. Hills, ibid., 126-179.
127 E.g., B. Carradine, The Sanctified Life, 89-105, where Carradine has a chapter on “The Loneliness of the Life”; also cf. Hills, ibid., 248-256. Hills is careful to say (245): “The act of consecration is to recognize Christ’s ownership and to accept it.” But some of the testimonies of others which Hills presents undo his own theological carefulness.
128 E.g., Delos F. Brooks, What Is the Carnal Mind? (Chicago: Christian Witness Co., 1905),passim; W.B. Godbey, Carnality (Louisville Pentecostal Publishing Co., 190?), passim; A.M. Hills,Dying to Live (Cincinnati: God’s Bible School, 1905), passim; B.W. Huckabee, ibid., es. 29-35; E.E. Shelhamer, ibid., 34-53.
129 Cf., for example, A.M. Hills, Eradication of Carnality: Why We Teach It (Kansas City, MO: Nazarene Publishing House, n.d.); B.W. Huckabee, ibid., 29-30: “This is a distinctive position taken by the Holiness Movement, and is, after all, the battle ground of the future. Much depends upon the maintenance of this doctrine.” Also see H.C. Morrison, The Baptism with the Holy Ghost(Louisville: Pentecostal Publishing Co., 1900), pp. 35-36. And, see Charles Edwin Jones,Perfectionist Persuasion, 84-86 (I would only disagree with Jones’ opinion that “adoption of new terms signalled no significant theological change” [p. 85]); and Stephen S. White, Eradication. Defined, Explained, Authenticated (“Studies in Holiness No. 2″ Kansas City, MO: Beacon Hill Press, 1954). White’s work is late, but it treats the issue in and on the terms set in the 1910s, when White began his long, and distinguished, career.
130 Cf., for example, B.F. Haynes, “What Has It Done?”, Herald of Holiness, February 5, 1912, p. 2.
131 E.g., from April, 1912-June, 1916, one in every 1.5 numbers of the Herald of Holiness carries approximately one editorial on a social issue (labor unions, prohibition, war and peace, social justice, etc.). For the period July, 1916-December, 1920, the ratio drops to approximately 1:2.5.
Not counting the articles on prohibition, the ratios are 1:2 and 1:4.3, respectively. The Pentecostal Herald is yet more conservative: for April, 1912-June, 1916, about 1:2.6; for July, 1916-December, 1920, about 1:4.5.
132 E.g., N.B. Herrell, “Our Stand on the Dress Question,” Herald of Holiness, February 5, 1920, pp. 12-13: “Woman’s natural weakness toward the dress question makes her an easy prey for the money interests that make her wearing apparel. . . . Christian women are to be delivered from the slavery of fashion as much as men are saved from the bondage of drink.” The Herald of Holinessdid not work with “The Dress Question” much in the 1910s, but of the approximately 30 articles and editorial comments that do treat it, not one is by a woman. The Pentecostal Herald treats the question much more frequently in the same period, though, in fairness it must be said that about 20% of approximately 50 articles in the 1910s come on the eve of the 1920 General Conference of the Methodist Episcopal Church (North). Mrs. H.C. Morrison and two other women wrote at least six of the fifty.
133 Research for this part of this essay, the period 1900-1920, took me into about 165 books (some were little more than tracts) published by Wesleyan/Holiness Movement authors. Of these, only six were, or contained, extensive theological treatments of what some would call “systemic evil,” or societal problems.
134 Cf. John Wesley, Letter: To Mrs. Bennis, June 16, 1772 (John Telford, ed., The Letters of the Rev. John Wesley, A.M. [8 vols.; London: Epworth Press, 1931]V.322); idem, Plain Account of Christian Perfection (ed. cit.), 19.
135 Again, the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement’s formal theologians and thinkers were more circumspect than the grassroots. But they still tended to give room to a generic use of the definition, a much broader applicability than Wesley gave it. See, for instance, A.M. Hills Holiness and Power . . . , 82-85; Edgar P. Ellyson, ibid., 105-107.
136 Cp., for instance, G.W. Wilson, The Sign of Thy Coming; or, Pre-millennialism, Unscriptural and Unreasonable (Boston: Christian Witness Co., 1899), and W.B. Godbey, Bible Theology, 279-295. (The reference to Godbey’s work is to a chapter entitled “The Post-millennial View of Our Lord’s Second Coming, Untenable”).
137 Cf., for instance, Godbey, ibid. Also see supra, n133.
138 Cf. William McDonald, Saved to the Uttermost (Boston: McDonald and Bill, 1885), pp. 25-32; F.B. Meyer, The Soul’s Pure Intention (London: Samuel Bagster and Sons, 1906), passim; C.W. Ruth, The Second Crisis in Christian Experience (Chicago Christian Witness Co., 1912), pp. 109-111. Meyer, as noted before, belonged to the Keswick Movement, but this particular work of his, among others, was enormously popular among North American Wesleyan/Holiness people.
139 A number of works came off Wesleyan/Holiness presses in the 1910s which treated the relationship between human nature and entire sanctification. The general approach was to write about what entire sanctification would not or could not do for the human personality. E.g., H.A. Baldwin, Holiness and the Human Element (Kansas City, MO: Beacon Hill Press, 1919); Wilson Thomas Hogue, The Holy Spirit: A Study (Chicago: W.B. Rose, 1916), pp. 264-281, esp. 275-281; C.W. Ruth, ibid., passim; W.E. Shepard, Problems of the Sanctified (Kansas City, MO: Pentecostal Church of the Nazarene Publishing House, 191?), passim.
140 Study of the behavioral rules for any of the holiness bodies in the period 1900-1920 reveals this narrow range. E.g., “faithful attendance upon the means of grace” is commonly, almost universally, enjoined, but no theological or ethical standards are set for the purpose or quality of worship. Profanity is proscribed, but nothing is said of ostentation. A minister would have to surrender his credentials immediately if found drinking an alcoholic beverage but not for aggressive racial prejudice.
141 Cf. A.M. Hills, Fundamental Christian Theology (2 vols.; Pasadena, CA: C.J. Kinne, 1931), I.337-375. We direct the reader to Hills’ theology because it presents the case precisely as much of the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement had been understanding it for several decades before he wrote on it at this length. Also see Amos Binney and Daniel Steele, Binney’s Theological Compend Improved (New York: Nelson and Phillips; Cincinnati: Hitchcock and Walden, 1875), pp. 111-113, for the treatment of free moral agency most influential in the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement before Hills’.
142 Cf. Hills, ibid., I.370-373; W.B. Godbey, Bible Theology, 136-144. This doctrine was, of course, critical to nineteenth-century Methodist theology. For discussion based on the sources, see Chiles,ibid., 144-175.
143 E.g., A.M. Hills, ibid., II.173-182, esp. 179: “All sinners have the ability to believe God’s truth revealed to them, and to exercise faith in Christ unto salvation. And faith is a gift of God, only as a crop of wheat is a gift of God. God gives the seed and the ground and season, and man makes the crop. So, and only so, does God give faith.”
144 E.g., a principal “evidence” of “the carnal nature” or “the old man” was anger, but not anger as ardent wrath; rather, anger as asperity or hard feelings. Really deep resentments were left untouched by such talk. A yen for tobacco or alcohol or for the dance was seen as a much more serious sign of “the old man” than was racial prejudice or a knowingly manipulative spirit.
145 E.g., E.J. Marvin, “Purity and Loyalty,” Herald of Holiness, October 11, 1916, p. 6; B.F. Haynes, “From What State Is Man To Be Brought?” (editorial), Herald of Holiness, October 27, 1915, pp. 1-2; F.M. Messenger, “Lusts of the Flesh,” Herald of Holiness, March 24, 1926; J.J. Ballinger, “Social Purity,” Herald of Holiness, February 24, 1915.
146 Cf. John C. Greene, The Death of Adam (Ames, IA: Iowa State University Press, 1959), pp. 305-332.
147 E.g., A.M. Hills, ibid., I. 315-325, esp. 315-317. Hills finally does oppose evolution, but on scientific, not on theological ground. He agrees with Miley, ibid., I. 358, that the empirical evidence simply does not allow an evolutionary conclusion. He sees no incompatibility between some form of theistic evolution and biblical religion. Also see E.P. Ellyson, Is Man an Animal? (Kansas City, MO: Nazarene Publishing House, 1926).
148 Cf. infra, n152 for an example. Also, a personal interview, September 6, 1964, Montgomery Bell State Park, TN, with A.B. Mackey, President of Trevecca Nazarene College, Nashville Tenn., (1937-1963). Mackey and his predecessors deliberately courted the support of the large and very conservative congregation of Chattanooga First Church of the Nazarene and other congregations in the southeast which looked to it as a model by maintaining a very conservative social ethic on campus, especially in the matter of the relationships between sexes. At the same time, Mackey and his predecessors retained support from the much more cosmopolitan and equally large congregation of Nashville First Chruch of the Nazarene by serving as active and faithful members.
149 Almost every number of the Herald of Holiness from May, 1912 to December, 1920, has at least one news/solicitation item from one of the Nazarene schools. Many of these carry the point being made here, especially from 1916 on.
150 E.g., Miller and Harding, ibid., 37-60, 115-129.
152 E.g., Arthur C. Zepp, Walking as He Walked; or, Holiness in Action (Chicago and Boston: Christian Witness, 1912), pp. 22-24; E.P. Ellyson, Bible Holiness (Kansas City, MO: Beacon Hill, 1938), pp. 92-94; E.A. Fergerson, Sermon VI: “God’s Temple Cleansed and Filled,” Pentecostal Pulpit (Louisville: Pentecostal Publishing Co., n.d.), pp. 87-91.
153 So the ferocity of the attack upon the dance by the Wesleyan/Holiness Movement at large and so the decision of the 1928 General Assembly of the Church of the Nazarene to go on record against “promiscuous mixed bathing”-i.e., all mixed swimming. The decision created confusion, for, strictly speaking, it was the voice of a specific General Assembly, not the legislating voice of the denomination. The decision never became part of the “General Rules.” Prior to 1928, Nazarenes in such places as California and Michigan had often gathered “at the beach” for a day of relaxation and inspiration. The Michigan District Camp Meeting Ground was on Indian Lake, Vicksburg, Michigan, and up until the 1928 General Assembly, Nazarenes of both genders swam together in the lake. From 1928 until well into the 1950s a wire fence was placed in the water out to considerable depth and on one side swam the women and small children of both sexes, the males on the other. In addition to the fence, separate hours for male and female “bathing” were attempted from time to time. Examples from other districts can be multiplied.
154 E.g., A.C. Rose, Helps to Every-Day Holiness and Thoughts on Purity (Louisville, KY and Greenville, TX: Pickett Publishing, n.d.); A.M. Hills, ibid., I. 401-402.
155 E.g., H.C. Morrison, “The Dress Question” (editorial), Pentecostal Herald, February 11, 1920, p. 1; N.B. Herrell, “Our Stand on the Dress Question,” Herald of Holiness, February 25, 1920, pp. 12-13; B.F. Haynes, “The Growing Curse of the Age” (editorial), Herald of Holiness, January 26, 1921, pp. 1-2.
156 E.g., H.C. Morrison, “The Holy War” (editorial), Pentecostal Herald, January 14, 1920, p. 1;idem, “Times of Testing” (editorial), Pentecostal Herald, April 7, 1920; (Mrs.) Clara McLeister, “Dress,” Pentecostal Herald, Aril 7, 1920, p. 2; B.F. Haynes, “Movies and Sex Appeal” (editorial),Herald of Holiness, February 23, 1921.