The Missional Colonization of Phoebe and Walter Palmer: Poetry Letters, and the Young Men’s Missionary Society

Introduction

Recent studies of Phoebe Palmer and her husband, Dr. Walter C. Palmer, have largely focused on the couple’s efforts to spread the “doctrine of Wesleyan holiness” while criticizing their unwillingness to take part in one of the greatest reform movements of their time: abolition. Yet, this criticism has overlooked the fact that the Palmers were strong supporters of colonization from at least the 1820s. The Palmers, however, did not support colonization for many of the highly questionable and racist reasons that their fellow white Methodists did: the fear of “amalgamation” (i.e., integrated schools and intermarriage) and the belief that free blacks were inferior and too “degraded” to ever achieve full equality. Instead, the Palmers, along with many other evangelical Christians, primarily supported colonization as a way to evangelize Africa. This article will show that they supported this missional emphasis through literary means, missionary correspondence, and Walter’s personal involvement in the Young Men’s Missionary Society (hereafter, YMMS).

Phoebe (Worrall) Palmer Phoebe Palmer was born in Manhattan in 1807 to Henry and Dorothea Worrall. Her parents were devout Methodists who attended Duane Street Methodist Episcopal Church. As a result of family prayer and church attendance, their children all developed strong personal commitments to the Christian faith. In 1827, Phoebe married Dr. Walter C. Palmer; they moved a short distance to Manhattan’s East Side where they became members of the Allen Street Methodist Episcopal Church (hereafter, MEC) for many years. In the mid-1830s, she had an experience of “entire sponsorship of the Tuesday Meeting for the Promotion of Holiness in their home. In 1843, she wrote The Way of Holiness which was a guide to those seeking “perfection.” Besides writing eighteen books, she and Walter also taught at camp meetings and other services throughout the United States, Canada, and England. She also served as the leader of a young women’s other benevolent organizations. She died in Manhattan in 1874 (White 1986: 2-4, 11-21, 28, 217-219; Roberts 2016: 201-213).

Walter Palmer Dr. Walter C. Palmer was born in 1804 in Middletown, New Jersey. His family moved to Manhattan when he was three months old. Like the Worralls, his parents were devout Methodists who also hosted a class meeting in their home. Walter experienced a powerful conversion in his Methodist Sunday School at the age of thirteen. After his conversion, he began to teach in the Sunday school and thought he might become a Methodist preacher. Eventually, he decided he could help people through the practice of medicine and enrolled in the College of Physicians and Surgeons of New York. In addition to his medical practice, he served as superintendent of a large Methodist Sabbath School, president of the Young 18-21, 40, 56, 58; Methodist Episcopal Church Records [hereafter, MECR], “Young Men’s Missionary Society” [hereafter, YMMS]. Vol. 127).

The Colonization Movement The colonization movement sought to return both free blacks and emancipated slaves to Africa. The idea of colonization had been discussed since the early 1800s and, in 1816, the American Colonization Society (hereafter, ACS) was founded in Washington, D.C. Its founders had different ideas about what it could achieve. Some felt it would gradually end slavery, some felt it would allow blacks to escape the pervasive white racism which existed even in the north, and others saw it as a way to rid their states of free blacks. Yet, from its inception, many free blacks opposed it and other white politicians and clergy saw it as impractical, prohibitively expensive, and immoral (Burin 2005: 9, 14-15, 19).

Review of the Literature

Somewhat surprisingly, almost all of the studies of the Palmers make no mention of their support for colonization while the most recent studies (1957-2016) have also strongly criticized their lack of involvement in the abolition movement. The earliest study by Richard Wheatley drew upon her letters and diary to show how she emphasized prayer rather than direct political involvement. This was most clearly seen in her views regarding the 1856 presidential election. He also showed that she viewed the growing political crisis over slavery as a spiritual battle and blamed not only the South for its use of slaves, but also the North for tolerating several bad laws such as the Fugitive Slave Act. Next, George Hughes’ biography

of Dr. Palmer noted that he was on the Board of Managers of the Missionary Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church (hereafter, MEC) but neglected any mention of his involvement in the YMMS which would explain his support of colonization. Then, in the mid-twentieth century, Timothy Smith viewed Phoebe’s lack of “social reform” through the lens of the general “holiness movement” which had begun in the mid-1830s. While noting her opposition to slavery, he criticized her for not joining the other holiness leaders such as Charles Finney who also became abolitionists. He also criticized what he called her simplistic view that God would somehow intervene to end slavery. Smith rendered a harsh verdict: “While early to take part in the relief of the widowed, orphaned, and imprisoned or in any other task which required the exercise of compassion, her New York and Philadelphia coterie were laggards in whatever demanded stern attacks on persons and institutions.” Nearly ten years later, Donald Mathews, in his comprehensive study, Slavery and Methodism (1965), devoted a chapter to Methodist support for colonization but overlooked Dr. Palmer’s involvement. Interestingly, he mentioned David Reese and Gabriel Disosway who were with them as vice-president (see below). One explanation for this may be that Reese and Disosway were more visible since they were also active members of the New York State Colonization Society (later reorganized as the Colonization Society of the City of New York) while Dr. Palmer was probably more absorbed in his large medical practice, growing family, and the “holiness movement.” A little more than twenty years later, Harold Raser, in his study (1987), also pointed out Phoebe’s more spiritual approach to political and social issues and concurred with Smith’s assessment. Like Smith, he criticized her for what he felt was an inconsistent position on slavery: she opposed it “but yet she never raised her hand to combat it in any concrete fashion.” In addition, he suggested that her “profound sense of guilt for ‘injustice winked at’ (i.e., Northern toleration of slavery) may failing to speak out in any way against slavery (Wheatley 1881: 607-608; Hughes 58; Smith 1957: 211-212; Mathews 1965: 96; Raser 1987: 222225, 233).” Finally, the last two studies analyzed Phoebe Palmer’s anti-slavery efforts in the context of the 1857-1858 revival in New York City. First, Kathryn Long described the split between “socially conservative evangelicals” who favored national unity over an immediate end to slavery and other

evangelicals who supported abolition. She pointed out that Palmer’s, “A Laity for the Times,” which was published in the Christian Advocate and Journal (hereafter, CAJ) in the winter of 1857, was a call for personal evangelism and not social involvement. In addition, she felt that Palmer, along with Nathan Bangs and Abel Stevens, “represented middle-class or formalized New York City Methodism.” Long asserted that “the genteel atmosphere of the metropolis fostered ‘safe’ opinions on such subjects as slavery, as well as a general conservative social stance.” Similarly, Kyle Roberts, in Evangelical Gotham (2016) contrasted what he termed the “conversionist” and “reformist” camps of the Revival of 1857-1858 and viewed her silence on abolition as an abdication of Christian responsibility. He, too, criticized her harshly: “For someone who took very public stands in her career as a theologian, author, and revivalist, the absence of public activism or pronouncements against slavery speaks volumes (Long 1998: 93-96; Roberts 214-216).” In contrast, Charles White, in The Beauty of Holiness, was the only one to even mention her support for colonization. He described her three poems on colonization as expressing many of the standard reasons that evangelicals supported colonization such as “reparation” for the harm believed Palmer acted from a desire to help them succeed rather than a desire to rid America of free blacks. Moreover, he indicated not only her active support for colonization but also her neutrality toward or dislike of abolition. White asserted that “when it became obvious that colonization would not work, however, she did not become an abolitionist. She also tried to resist the tendency of other advocates of holiness to identify themselves with abolition. One example may be B. T. Roberts…Phoebe Palmer was smacked of politics. She felt that interest in politics diverted Christians from their real business of promoting revivals” (White 27, 60, 228).

“Conversionist” and Colonizationist

While clearly explaining the Palmers’ generally apolitical attitude, their assessments overlooked two key pieces of evidence which revealed their strong support for colonization. First, Phoebe’s poem, “Ode for the Fourth of July,” which White mentioned, needs to be placed in sharper context. To be sure, it was not something she wrote in the quiet of her study to ideally extol the virtues of colonization, but rather was read at an annual

service in a Methodist church (probably Allen Street MEC) which raised funds for the ACS. These services probably began in 1827, when the Reverend Ralph Gurley, the general secretary of the ACS (and a Methodist minister), had asked all the churches to take up a collection at their Independence Day services. Describing this request, Donald Mathews wrote that “…on every July Fourth Methodist ministers followed the advice of the annual conferences by joining other denominations in praising colonization and taking special collections. How much they collected would depend upon the persuasiveness of individual preachers, the generosity of contributors, and the prosperity of the time (Mathews 92-94).” These services, however, were initially seen as too “political” and had only been allowed in MECs in Manhattan since 1830. This gradual shift can be seen in the actions of the trustees over a seven-year period beginning in 1826. For example, on October 4, 1826, the trustees had considered a request from the ACS that it be allowed to take up a collection in the churches, but they decided not to grant it “due to present circumstances of the MEC.” Again, on July 1, 1829, the board considered the request of Gabriel Disosway, a Methodist layman and member of the New York City Colonization Society, for a collection to be taken up for the ACS at a special Fourth of July service. The board responded that “as sincerely as the Board of Trustees esteem the sentiments of the Declaration of our Independence, the Board cannot consent to have anything introduced into our churches, which might have a political bearing. They, therefore, give their consent that the remainder of the exercises, as noticed from the pulpit last Sabbath, be permitted in John Street Church on the Fourth of July.” In 1832, however, as granted permission for the agent of the ACS to form an auxiliary society among the members of the MECs in Manhattan. A year later, they allowed of the Colonization Society in one of the churches on the West Circuit.” Finally, a month later, the YMMS was given permission to again hold their anniversary meeting in John Street Church and take up a collection for the ACS (MECR. “Board of Trustees.” Vol. 93; White 27). Although apparently quite popular in the north, these services put southern Methodist leaders in an awkward position. An example comes from a July 1834, letter to the CAJ from the Reverend Dr. William Capers who led the Methodist “Missions to Slaves” in the south. He was responding to an earlier article in the CAJ that had asked the question,

“What is the speediest and most effectual method of evangelizing American slaves?” In his letter, he argued that it was unwise for any abolitionists to preach to the slaves since they had upset the slaveholders. Second, he criticized the activities of the ACS and insisted that the “Missions to Slaves” was to be based solely on Jesus’ words to “preach the Gospel to every creature.” Then, he condemned the Fourth of July pro-colonization services held annually in the MECs. Regarding them, he angrily wrote, “And such a miscarriage the society perpetrated when it solicited sermons to be preached by whoever would preach them, throughout the United States, on the 4th of July, and collections then to be taken up for the promotion of its objects…And did you ever see any of these 4th of July sermons? Several of them have found their way to the south…ranting, fanatic, and incendiary.” In response, the CAJ simply stated that it had never been their intention to identify colonization with the “Missions to Slaves” and entirely ignored the issue of the July Fourth services. The poem itself which was probably read at the July 4, 1831, before her, argued that since the Americans had won their own freedom from England, it followed that the slaves, too, should be set free. How could a free people keep others enslaved? Second, she believed, somewhat naively, that Africa missed those who had been forcibly taken and desired their return. Yet, a majority of free blacks had already rejected that thinking and wanted to remain in America as full citizens. Thus, while the poem expressed both a call for emancipation and return, its context shows that Phoebe was not just peripherally or mildly interested in colonization but strongly supportive of the MEC’s efforts to aid the ACS (Palmer 1875: 208209).

Second, all previous scholars, including George Hughes, Dr. Palmer’s close friend and biographer, overlooked his involvement in the YMMS which had as its preeminent objective the “mission to Liberia.” Although Hughes, writing in the 1880s, mentioned that Dr. Palmer was one of the managers of the Missionary Society of the MEC, he neglected to mention that he was vice-president of the YMMS for most of the 1830s. Hughes’ omission may possibly be explained by the fact that the newlyreorganized YMMS was only active for nine years (1830 to 1839) while the Missionary Society eventually became a permanent agency of the denomination. Interestingly, the minutes of the YMMS also reveal that Noah Worrall, Phoebe’s brother, served as one of its twenty-four managers

indicating additional support for colonization within her immediate family (YMMS. Vol. 127).

Supporting the Missional Aim of Colonization

Yet, their support for colonization did not stem from a belief that whites were superior and that the two races must be kept separate at all costs. Charles White, who analyzed her pro-colonization poems (see above), concurred: “Although rejected by many blacks in its own day and universally disparaged in our own, many people of good faith thought of it as the only realistic hope of bettering the lot of the slave.” Rather, what drove their support for colonization was an intense desire to evangelize which manifested itself in three ways. First, Phoebe supported the missional aim of colonization through a very common way in which she often expressed herself: poetry. Richard Wheatley has noted that “she gave early indications year-old in which she extolled the divine guidance of the scriptures. In addition, like many early nineteenth century Methodists, she kept a spiritual diary. Finally, throughout adulthood, she wrote several widely-read books published as a series of articles in the CAJ. Her evangelistically-themed poem, “Redemption of Africa,” was sung at the ninth anniversary meeting asserted that evangelization depended solely on God’s favor or “grace.” Then, the third stanza acknowledged that God had opened a door into Africa: “Divinely hast Thou cleared the way…” The next stanza described even demon worship. Yet, the missionaries’ efforts have borne fruit since now “the light has spread” and many have been converted to “Israel’s Lord” (Wheatley 17-18; Palmer 206-207; White 60). Second, Phoebe supported the efforts to evangelize Africa through the colonization movement by her correspondence with Methodist missionaries in Liberia. Most of these lay and clergy missionaries were from Manhattan and some had also participated in the “Tuesday Afternoon Meeting for the Promotion of Holiness” which the Palmers hosted in their home. These letters, in response to her own letters, focus only on the challenging efforts to evangelize the area around Monrovia, the largest settlement in Liberia. An example comes from the letters of W. B. Hoyt

imminent departure from Baltimore, asked for her prayers, and indicated his desire to keep a “regular correspondence as circumstances will admit.” In his next letter, he mentioned how he and his wife had had the fever which he called “Africa’s scourge.” They had recovered but another missionary married couple had died from it. Four months later, he gave an account of the mission: “Doubtless you are anxious to know something of the state of Religion among us. At present, the Church appears cold and her prospects gloomy. On one or two of the stations there has been a waking up to appearing may burn until the entire Mission --- (word unclear) the entire length and breadth of this dark land shall be illuminated and freed from its cruel thralldom to the Prince of darkness” (“Letters.” Nov. 1, 1845; February 10, 1846; June 11, 1846). Again, seven months later, in January 1847, she received a letter from J. B. Benham who also resided at the Mission House in Monrovia. He thanked her for her previous letter and the periodicals she had sent on the Liberia packet. Next, he mentioned his concern about personnel. Although three missionaries had just arrived – Brother Morris, Sister Johnson, and Sister Brush – Brother Floy, who had recovered from the fever, was returning on the Liberia Packet which would leave Benham alone. Apparently, the new arrivals were laypersons while Benham was the only ordained minister in Monrovia. Brother Floy had been Dr. James Floy, a Methodist preacher who had been converted at the great Allen Street MEC revival in 1831-1832 (“Letters.” Jan. 25, 1847; Wheatley 25-26). Finally, Dr. Palmer’s support for colonization came primarily through his personal involvement with the YMMS which considered itself an “auxiliary” to the parent Missionary Society of the MEC. The YMMS had existed since the early 1820s but had become inactive possibly due to the and a new board of managers were appointed. Dr. David M. Reese, a local preacher and a manager of the “parent” Missionary Society of the MEC, became its new president. Dr. Palmer also attended the reorganization monthly. According to the YMMS minutes, he attended regularly and on six

occasions he chaired the meeting in the absence of the president (YMMS. Vol 127).

role in the YMMS. For example, at the reorganization meeting, he was appointed to a committee with two others to revise the constitution and by held in April, 1831. Then, in early 1832, he was appointed to a committee to prepare a memorial to the 1832 General Conference in support of the mission to Liberia. Finally, on two occasions, he was appointed to collect money from YMMS subscribers at the Allen Street Church where he and Phoebe attended (YMMS. Vol. 127). Moreover, from the start, the newly-organized YMMS had an extremely close relationship with the ACS. For example, the second article of the new constitution, which Dr. Palmer had helped draft, stated that the YMMS was to assist the ACS to “more effectually extend their Missionary Labors throughout the United States and elsewhere.” Then, less than a month after the constitution had been adopted, the board of managers resolved that “a committee be appointed to seek a representative from this society at the (annual) meeting of the ACS at Washington City.” Reese and Gabriel Disosway, the corresponding secretary of the YMMS, also attended this meeting as delegates of the New York State Colonization Society. Finally, at its second meeting on November 9, 1830, the YMMS resolved that persons whom the committee had appointed would “address each of these meetings and solicit subscriptions and donations especially with a piece to establish a mission to Liberia.” This person turned out to be Rev. Finley, the ACS agent, who happened to be in New York at that time (YMMS. Vol. 127).

Colonization and Evangelization: A Delicate Balancing Act

It is possible that the Palmers may also have harbored other more repugnant views such as believing that blacks were inferior and degraded and that the races must be kept separate to avoid integrated schools and intermarriage. This argument, however, overlooks three key factors. First, her two poems in support of colonization avoided any condescension of the slaves, spoke compassionately of their sufferings, and focused (albeit in “Ode for the Fourth of July,” (see above), she urged Christians to help

end slavery since they themselves had been set free as a result of the Revolutionary War. In addition, she believed that allowing former slaves to return to Africa would be what they would choose for themselves so that they could then “live unoppressed…joyous, free…” Again, her second believed that God’s judgment would surely come on America unless the unjustly. Finally, she wrote how hypocritical it was to speak of “liberty” while denying it to the slaves. Admittedly, her optimistic view that blacks would want to return to Africa was naïve in the extreme: actual returnees faced poverty, disease, and attacks from tribal chieftains (Palmer 205-209). In addition, after analyzing her poems, Charles White concluded that “it is evident that her motives in supporting the colonization society were not compromised, as were the motives of some. The main themes of these poems are justice and redemption. Nowhere is the slightest hint persons on the subject of heaven where “he reminded his listeners that God is no respecter of persons and that the Lord will seat his servants at his throne and will reign with them forever and ever.” Moreover, Phoebe noted how joyfully they gave their offerings for the purpose of building a school. Regarding this, White wrote, “She felt this display of generosity showed maturity and responsibility, and asked, ‘Who will, in the presence of such facts, dare to repeat that such a people cannot take care of themselves?’” were much more spiritually responsive and joyful than the white Methodists who did not even attend her meetings (White 60, 98-99). The second key factor was that many Protestant denominations only began to support colonization in the mid-1820s because of its missionary component, which coincided with the great surge of domestic and international missions in the early nineteenth century. According to Lanneh Samin, this component was present from the very beginning in the idea of a national colonization society in 1816. This is illustrated in the two reasons why Finley supported colonization. First, he “felt that the inherit capacity of slaves for self-improvement was being thwarted by the

circumstances of slavery and race prejudice, and that a free colony in Africa But another motive for the colonization plan was the view that it would spread civilization and Christianity in Africa…” Of course, many others supported colonization for less laudable reasons: a way to keep the races separate, a belief that blacks were both degraded and inferior and could never achieve equality in America, a solution to the problem of having free blacks in the south, and even a way for the south to move from agriculture to industrialization. Like many other denominations, the MEC initially took a cautious approach to the ACS; this began to change in 1824. According to Donald Mathews, “appeals for support of the Colonization Society were believed that new colonies in Africa would provide a toehold for expanded missionary activity on that continent…” While acknowledging that “antiNegro bias” motivated some Methodists like David Reese, “others like Wilbur Fisk were motivated by a general concern for Negroes uncomplicated by conscious prejudice. They could all agree that history had created a grave social problem which thwarted outright antislavery preaching previously.” Based on all the available evidence, the latter description of Fisk also seems to characterize the Palmers’ concern for the slaves’ well-being (Sanneh 1999: 191; Burin 13-14; Mathews 98, 109-110). Moreover, the effort to evangelize Africa through the means of colonization was not just limited to the missionary boards of white evangelical denominations. Sanneh has pointed out that a number of black preachers who were converted in America willingly emigrated to both Sierra Leone and Liberia to preach to the returning blacks and also try to penetrate further into Africa. Those who returned to Sierra Leone included Moses Wilkinson, Cato Perkins, and David George. Perhaps the earliest black preacher who went to Liberia was Lott Carey who was born in Virginia around 1780, converted in 1807, paid for his freedom in 1813, and went to Liberia in the early 1820s under the sponsorship of the African Baptist Missionary Society. Thus, both missionary-minded blacks and whites responded to what they perceived as a providential opportunity (Sanneh 74-75, 86-87, 210-211). Most importantly, the third key factor that absolves the Palmers of the charge of white superiority was their own intense, lifelong efforts to not just to Liberia but to the entire world. An experience that occurred

early in their marriage helps explain this deep commitment. A call had been issued for medical missionaries and Phoebe thought that Walter would want to answer that call. She struggled with the idea of leaving New York but ultimately resigned herself to doing God’s will. Although Dr. Palmer did not feel God calling him to that work, Phoebe sensed God still wanting them to work for the missions from their home in New York. In her diary she wrote: “If you will do so, the Spirit of Holiness is the spirit which will tell upon missions, and the Lord will make you instrumental in working upon minds which tell on missions, and you may, for the present, do more service in aiding missionary work here, than if you were in China.” In response to that inspiration of the Spirit, she wrote: “I thought of the absorption I should feel, in the work of saving souls, if thus wholly given up, and I resolved to make the work of the Lord as absorbing here, as though I were on missionary ground, and my career has ever since been this resolution. First, Dr. Palmer was one of the Board of Managers for the Mission Society of the MEC and could easily make recommendations for new missions. Also, since the Missionary Society was located in New York City, the Palmers had easy access to the secretary of the Missionary Society and practically all of the managers who were mostly laymen in the New York Circuit. To cite one example, Nathan Bangs, who served as secretary for some time, was also a close personal friend of the Palmers and regularly attended the Tuesday Afternoon Meeting for the Promotion of Holiness. Finally, the Palmers most likely attended all the anniversary meetings of the Mission Society and at least some of the regular monthly “missionary meetings” of the society (Wheatley 230-232). This deeply personal commitment to foreign missions in general is illustrated in their attempt to start a new mission to China in the 1830s. of the managers of the Mission Society. The board, however, felt a mission results for many years. The day of the anniversary meeting of the Mission Society (most likely the one held in April 1835), Phoebe suggested a new amount. Walter said he would not only do that but that he would double the amount given each year. She also asked him to make this suggestion at the meeting that evening, to which he agreed. When he made the offer that

evening, Bishop Janes and eighteen others quickly said they would pledge action. At their next meeting, they passed the following “preamble” and “resolution” which was then sent to Bishop Hedding and Bishop Emory. “Whereas there were collected and pledged at the late anniversary of this society in Greene Street Church, upwards of fourteen hundred dollars for the support of a mission in China, therefore: Resolved, the bishops be and they are hereby are recommended and especially requested to select some person or persons, as soon as practicable for the purpose of opening a Mission under the patronage of this society in the Empire of China.” Again, on another occasion, they convinced Reverend Durbin, secretary of the Mission Society, to begin a mission to Palestine. This time, Dr. Palmer offered to give one hundred dollars a year for ten years. Nineteen others not go forward. To sum up, the Palmers were sincere and avid supporters of all missions, including Liberia, and not driven primarily by racist desires to rid America of its black population (Wheatley 230-234; Board of Managers. Mission Society of the Methodist Episcopal Church. May, 1835).

Conclusion

The colonization movement stirred controversy from its inception. Although it tried to appeal to various constituencies in order to garner support, the majority apparently saw it as a way of removing the black population rather than granting them full rights as citizens. In contrast, the Palmer’s supported colonization as a way to repair the damage done to because it sheds new light on a dedicated subgroup who worked within the movement while distancing themselves from its less admirable objectives. To be sure, a clear solution to the problem of emancipating the slaves seemed nearly impossible in the mid-1800s since Congress refused to even discuss it. Thus, this small group of “missional” colonizationists contradicts the prevailing historical assessment that only white superiority drove colonization. While this article has sought to more correctly place the Palmers in the context of the abolitionist-colonizationist debate, more could be done to show how and why various Methodist individuals and institutions took the positions they did, especially in the highly charged period of the 1830s. Using Donald Mathew’s chapter on Methodists and colonization in

his landmark study, Slavery and Methodism, as a starting point, a number of in-depth studies could be made. These might include an analysis of the publications of David Reese, president of the YMMS and a leading national apologist for colonization. In addition, it would be useful to explore the extensive writings of Reverend Nathan Bangs who served as editor of the CAJ and Quarterly Review and secretary of the Missionary Society. Both men advanced the cause of colonization with more stridency and less admirable aims than the Palmers, yet they were all apparently close friends and colleagues. Another avenue to explore is the role of the Commercial Advertiser involvement. Francis Hall, a leading Methodist layman, was its publisher for a number of years. Finally, it would be extremely helpful to examine the powerful role of the New York Annual Conference in the 1830s when it effectively prevented any clerical support for abolition.

Phoebe Palmer’s Colonization Poems

“Colonization Cause” (Mother’s Gift, 205-6)

Oh! send them back, so say our inmost hearts; From bondage most oppressive, set them free; Before like mercy from our land departs, And just-bought vengeance hasten infamy. Speak loud in heaving groans beneath the weight That have been gathered from the pains and toils Of nature’s kindred; and the cry is great! Hark! justly incensed heaven demands it back, At perils mighty you the call evade, The means must come, that will retrace the track, Which by your vile oppression has been made. Christian! if thou dare answer to the name, That in this land of freedom claims thy store, With liberty, thy boasted star of fame, Shall slavery thus eclipse its lustre o’er? Oh, rather haste! oh haste! to wash the stain Forever from those annals; -erst so pure, Nor let a cause so just e’er plead in vain, Thill this last act immortal fame secure.

The Asbury Journal 77/1: 158-180 © 2022 Asbury Theological Seminary DOI: 10.7252/Journal.01.2022S.09

From the Archives: Gilbert James and the Fight for Interracial Justice- The Papers of Gilbert James and The Shelhamer Family Papers1

Stanley Jones School of World Mission and Evangelism was conducted, and for many this may appear to be when the social sciences began to be integrated into the work of Asbury Theological Seminary.2 However, such a of Asbury’s faculty, who had sadly passed away on January 21st of that same year. At the relatively young age of 66, and suffering from Alzheimer’s would not be present to see the impact of the social sciences on the future legacy of Asbury Theological Seminary. In fact, because of his early passing, his importance is often overshadowed by other more well-known names in the faculty. For this reason, it is useful to highlight Gilbert James and his important contributions to social justice in both the Free Methodist Church and Asbury Theological Seminary. Born November 5, 1915 in Brazil, Indiana, James was the son of a man who reportedly travelled with holiness legend Beverly Carradine, but who ultimately left the holiness viewpoint and separated from his wife and children when James was just twelve years old.3 After two years of high school, James dropped out and turned to boxing. An encounter with a woman evangelist in a revival in Terre Haute, Indiana, changed his life and way to God’s Bible School in Cincinnati, Ohio, one of the centers for radical holiness in the United States. It was here that he met Esther Shelhamer, the youngest daughter of a well-known radical holiness evangelist, E. E. Shelhamer and his wife Julia. According to accounts, Gilbert worked hard to win the hand of Esther, even while dating was strictly against the college rules. In one story, since he worked in the maintenance department of the

The goal of the young couple was to enter missionary service in Africa, since Esther had previously served in missions there, but the problems of World War II made this option impossible. Realizing that “Africa” also existed in America, Gilbert James and his young wife set out to take a Free Methodist Church in Shreveport, Louisiana. While working in a white church on one side of town, Gilbert and Esther began to work on planting a black Free Methodist Church on the African American side of the city, along with a grade school for African American children. Started in 1943 with Rev. W.L. Dyas and Rev. Gilbert James in a rented shack, it would become the Central Free Methodist Church of Shreveport.5 While the Free Methodist Church had a history opposing slavery and even had some integrated Northern churches immediately after the Civil War period, their commitment to racial justice had faded over time. This was a relatively new groundbreaking effort to dismantle the impact of segregation within white churches rooted in the Wesleyan-Holiness tradition right in the heart of the South. What started as the Free Methodist Colored Work would become the Department of Interracial Evangelism of the Free Methodist Church of North America, and Gilbert James would be the Superintendent of this work from 1946-1958. Esther would really serve as his partner in ministry throughout their life together. From at least 1950 to 1956, Gilbert and Esther James published a small newsletter entitled Interracial News to publicize the work among Free Methodists. In 1950, James wrote,

any church that offers him salvation on a “Jim Crow” basis. He is not half so interested in our doctrine of the trinity, our stand on baptism or secret orders as he is in our standards of Christian brotherhood. If he becomes a Christian and joins our church, will he be accepted as a brother in Christ and have extended to him the same fellowship as anyone else?

The world has built up barriers between races, for the white man’s economic and political advantage that God never intended. They have spiked and supported these barriers with a world of lies and half-truths…

The Negro is a direct descendant from Adam and Eve and as such they are all our blood brothers and sisters. For God has declared that He has made us all of one blood….

Whether or not we succeed in this task is dependent on you! What is your attitude toward other races? Have you fallen for the “Master Race” line; have you by failing to speak out against hate mongers, given your consent

to racial intolerance? It is bad enough when sinners talk about “keeping Negros in their place” and this is “a white man’s country,” but when those who profess to be and the cause of God. If you would help us win souls, then speak out boldly against expressions of prejudice and discrimination!6

The Central Free Methodist Church of Shreveport would become a central piece of the work of the Free Methodist Church among African Americans. By 1946, Rev. Dyas had passed away and was replaced by Rev. John Thompson. Madeline Brewer would serve as the school’s main principal. While it initially began as a kindergarten in a neighboring home, it soon moved into a regular building for grades 1-8, with a maximum of 150 students. In 1959 a new extension was built to include space for the 9th and 10th grades and the possibility of expanding to include a high school Northern Louisiana. In this early work, by 1950 we only see eleven sites being overseen by the Department of Interracial Evangelism. These include the church and school in Shreveport, Los Angeles Third Church in California, Sunday Schools in Michigan and Windsor, Ontario, Canada, a Home of Redeeming Love for colored girls in St. Louis, and two missions (one in Portland, Oregon and the second in Washington, D.C.).7 It is important to note that the mission in Washington D.C. was run by Julia Shelhamer, the widow of E. E. Shelhamer and Gilbert’s mother-in-law. Julia’s work was hotline for which she gained national attention. In addition, it was due to her efforts that much later Gene Alston was given the opportunity to become in mind that all of this occurred before the modern Civil Rights Movement and only shortly after Harry Truman ordered an end to discrimination in the military in 1948.

Gilbert James wrote an editorial in June of 1954 on the breaking news of the U.S. Supreme Court’s decision to end segregation in schools. He wrote,

Those of us who for years have been close to this matter of segregation by law, welcome this Supreme Court decision. We are aware that there probably will be a period of adjustment that may be disturbing to those who are inherently averse to change. Also, there is the task of calming the anxieties of those who for years have fed on the diet of racial fear by unscrupulous politicians…Those of us in Interracial Evangelism have been greatly handicapped by the rigid legal and social has been to accomplish a sense of unity, brotherhood, and oneness in the body of Christ while custom, tradition and laws have forbidden our full Christian fellowship.13

While working in the area of racial justice, and pastoring various churches, Gilbert James went on to graduate from Greenville College in 1955, followed by a M.A. in Anthropology and Sociology in 1957 from Washington University, and a Ph.D. in Sociology in 1963 from Northwestern. He focused most of his studies on the struggle of African Americans in urban areas, with a concern for the history of racial oppression and the problems of the urban centers. James’ work as the Superintendent of the Department Interracial Evangelism was pioneering, and when he left the position in 1958 the carry on the work, the Department of Interracial Evangelism was merged with the larger Department of Evangelism and Church Extension (Glen E. Williamson appears to have lead the Department of Interracial Evangelism from 1959 and during its merger). David McKenna in a history of the Free Methodist Church wrote, “In his 1960 report to the General Conference, Northrup (Rev. Lyle Northrup, the head of the Department of Evangelism and Church Extension) stressed the strength of interracial ministries. Four years later Northrup’s report to the General Conference carried the tone of de-emphasis upon interracial evangelism. The Shreveport church was in leadership transition; the Shelhamer Memorial Mission was struggling to exist and the scholarship fund for ‘needy colored students’ was falling behind the demand and the opportunity.”14 Gilbert James would also serve as the pastor of Irving Park Church in Chicago, 1957-1960 (while working on his Ph.D.) and went on to teach at the University of Wisconsin, 1961-

Professor of Church and Society, a position he would hold until 1980. Gilbert James entered Asbury Seminary with a determination to change the way ministerial training was done. His initial chapel (and possibly his installation address) was published in The Asbury Seminarian (a forerunner of The Asbury Journal) in 1966. After a short introduction he opened this way,

With 70 per cent of America’s population now living in the great urban areas, and with the concentration in these areas of alienated and hopeless human beings, our future ministries must understand not only the needs of these people but must empathize with their longings, their fears, and their anger. They must learn to go to the people where they are, the way they are. For the day is past, if it ever existed, when the city pastor could frequent only the places of unimpeachable respectability and then expect the masses to throng to his church on Sunday morning. The battle is out there! The man of God is not of this world but surely he must be in it.

The crushing and sickening anguish of today is not apparent in the congregation of a Sunday morning worship service or a Wednesday night prayer meeting. The problems of human distress ferment in the squalor and wretchedness of decaying tenement houses, at the back table of a “gin mill” on State street, and boil in the core of a frenzied mob seeking vengeance on its oppressors. As Nietzsche has written, ‘Great problems are in the street.’ So Christian witnesses must go into the streets with compassion for the victims of sin, and with holy indignation against social, economic, and political structures of evil.15

As a teacher, Gilbert James was penetrating and had high expectations for the students; expecting them to be prepared for thoughtful discussion of serious theological issues. Philip Amerson relates an example of how James in one class asked his students who most desired the prohibition of alcohol in a neighboring county. After the expected answers of preachers and religious people, James revealed that these people were show by maps of a Chicago neighborhood how anti-prostitution measures only caused the movement of prostitution to an adjoining neighborhood, and did not really solve the underlying problems. Amerson refers to James

as a “provocateur” and an “urban ecologist,” but he also calls him, “the most honest, Socratic teacher I have ever known.”16 Howard Snyder, who was another student of Gilbert James, relates that James was “bright” and “cutting edge” in that his teaching was “a matter of reaching the cities and it was a matter of racial justice” combined with the Gospel.17 Gilbert James was part of a new kind of seminary educator which really sought to invest time and energy into his students, including meeting them in the dining hall, which Amerson referred to as a “congregating space for conversations you didn’t want to miss.” While at Asbury, Gilbert James did not choose to remain within the ivory tower. A commitment to the urban poor especially, pushed him in the practice of poverty. To this end, he developed the Urban Ministries Program for Seminarians (UMPS- which would be a forerunner of SCUPE the Seminary Consortium for Urban Pastoral Education founded in 1976), which was often conducted in Chicago, but also New York, MinneapolisSt. Paul, and Atlanta. A 1973 pamphlet on the program reveals it to be a cooperative program between a number of schools, including Anderson College School of Theology, Associated Mennonite Biblical Seminaries, Bethel Theological Seminary, Conservative Baptist Theological Seminary, North Park Theological Seminary, and Asbury Theological Seminary. According to the pamphlet, the program in 1973 ran from June 5 to August 17, 1973 with a group of thirty students, while a select group of eight would continue to work through December. There were four stages to the program:

1. “The Plunge”- where the student would spend several days and nights in the city as a “non-entity” with minimal resources. 2. Several days of concentrated lectures through the summer focused on urban studies from various specialists to gain an understanding of ministry in the city. 3. Regular work where the students would live in the neighborhood they were working in under some supervision and learn how to understand the needs of the community. 4. Small group sessions to gain self-understanding and process their experiences in ministry in the urban context.

Such an approach in experiential learning was quite radical at the time. Rev. David Seamands, who was the pastor at the Wilmore United Methodist

Church and a well-known author, related at James’ funeral in 1982 that when he was discussing issues of poverty or racism with James, Gilbert challenged him to “put your feet where your mouth is and come with me to Chicago.” He then relates spending time as a homeless person with just a few dollars in his pocket for the weekend and noted his “horizons were pushed back” in a “prophetic way.” Howard Snyder also noted how he delayed leaving Asbury after learning to New York in June of 1966 with about 11 others. Snyder pointed out how the trip really impacted his own view of the church by providing a conceptual “shift from looking at the church from individualism to community” and from “psychology to sociology” which helped him better understand how the Church needs to think and act as a community in social terms, along with the real impact of “institutionalism” on the life of the church. This experience would be key to future work he did as a pastor trying to prevent a Free Methodist Church in Detroit from moving to of James). Ultimately these experiences would help formulate some of the ideas for his book, The Problem of Wineskins (1975). Snyder would dedicate his following book Community of the King (1977) to “Gilbert M. James and Charles W. Kingsley who in very different ways combine the evangelistic and prophetic dimensions of the Kingdom of God.”

describes as “part revival and political convention all in one.” They went to hear an unknown Civil Rights leader, and when Jesse Jackson emerged in the few white students from a rural Kentucky seminary to be dissuaded from urban ministry through these experiences, the opposite happened. As Culumber noted, James “impacted us with his vision and passion” since most of them had never seen a “passionate Wesleyan conservative with a heart for the city” before. For Culumber, his own desire to do urban ministry was “ignited” by this summer experience, and he would go on to do urban ministry in Manila in the Philippines, and at churches in St. Louis, College, he modelled his teaching on James’ “urban plunge” model with his own students. While such an approach was ahead to its time, there are indications that Gilbert James did have some doubts about the effectiveness of the approach. Amerson, who was involved with James on several of his urban experiences, including helping to work on one of his last in Atlanta, recalls that James “increasingly knew that it wasn’t helpful,” except for its shock value. Amerson recalls that James once said, “it may be an inoculation that prevents you from ever getting the disease.” If there was not good teaching and interpretive work along with the experience, it may simply end up making people immune to the problems of poverty. It is also possible that James had similar feelings about racial integration, believing that it might work well for a short period, but then could become dangerous as people became complacent about the importance of real racial equality on all levels of society.19 But such experiences were also liberating. Amerson recalls another trip to Chicago when James brought the group to an event for Operation Breadbasket, where Rev. Jesse Jackson, the Chicago director appointed by Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. was speaking. James did not want the group to stick together but spread out in the rest of the crowd. Amerson saw James from a distance standing on a seat waving a beret and loudly supporting what Jackson was saying. Gilbert James believed that true holiness required action and not just words. The development of the 1970 Ichthus Music Festival was in some ways an offshoot of this type of innovative experiential learning. In an interview with John Park, one of the founding students who also gave the music festival its name, he noted that he had spent the summer of 1969 with Gilbert James in New York City, in Harlem (so had Philip Amerson in one

20 It was there dealing with inner an Ichthus necklace from which he named the festival. While James had no clearly direct ties with Ichthus, in my interviews, most of students involved in the early years told me that they were partially inspired by Gilbert James’ teaching, his ideas, and/or these experiential learning experiences in urban areas. Robert W. Lyon, his fellow faculty member at Asbury and personal friend, wrote a special tribute to Gilbert James in 1980 in a campus publication. Lyon, probably best known for his work in mentoring the had been hired at the same time as Gilbert James. He wrote,

When you talk with him he tells you that he is a professional sociologist and not a theologian. With a not ordained and that he has never studied theology. Yet, I think a case might be made out for at least suggesting that he has been the best practicing theologian on these campuses. Dialogue on matters theological never left one in doubt that Gilbert had done his homework, that works of theology.

People naturally think of Gilbert as a sociologist, or as a teacher, or perhaps even as a prophet. He is all of them. But at the very heart of his being he is an evangelist. The person of Jesus Christ in his risen power stands at the center of his life and faith.21

At James’ funeral two years later, Lyon would describe him simply as “the truest human being I have ever known.” Since, James’ time it is now common to have professors whose specialties are in anthropology or sociology. Missions and evangelism without the idea of cultural exegesis would be incomplete in modern missiological studies. But for Asbury Theological Seminary, Gilbert James was the person who pioneered these ideas and thus paved the way for a multidisciplinary approach to reaching people for Christ, which was not detached from holiness, but rather rooted ways, his work paved the way for Frank Stanger to create the E.S.J. School with a strong social science focus.

service in 1978.24 He saw his illness as another challenge from God to learn more about the spiritual fruit of patience in his life. Gilbert and Esther’s son, David has written a short devotional book about loss and grieving. In one devotional he writes about his father’s struggle,

Four years before my father died at the height of his seminary teaching career, he wrote in his private notes, “A Prayer I was Afraid to Pray”: O God, let me be crushed and ground as wheat, like bread from the oven to be broken and fed to the hungry!

Then one night, two years later, he suddenly realized that through painful struggling with language in the pulpit, humiliation in the classroom, and anguish in meeting friends, this prayer had been answered. He took a leave of absence…

So instead of having the coffee he loved, at the staff lounge at the seminary he loved, with the people he loved, he drove to the Burger King at the edge of town. He would seek out lonely-looking people and ask if he could join them. Because he could not lecture, he listened, and because he could not preach, he prayed, and formerly lonely strangers began to seek him out.

Broken bread, anyone?25

Gilbert James should be remembered, not just for his teaching and innovative immersion experiences, nor for his pioneering work in racial justice, but also for the impact he had on his students. Dr. Philip Amerson, the former President of Claremont Theological Seminary (20002005), and Garrett-Evangelical Theological Seminary (2006-2013) was one of his students in Gilbert James’ early years of teaching, and he worked with him long after he left seminary. Despite his later academic roles, he spent a number of years working with congregations on urban community development and institutional leadership with a concern for issues of poverty and discrimination. Clearly Gilbert James left an impact there. Dr. Howard Snyder was another student of Gilbert James. Dr. Snyder has served as a missionary and professor in Brazil (1968-1975) and taught in a number of places including being the Professor of History and Theology of Mission in the E.S.J. School at Asbury Theological Seminary (1996-2006), but it is in his writing where he has frequently challenged the Evangelical Church to be more focused on social issues. His books The Problem of Wineskins (1975), The Community of the King (1977), The Radical Wesley (1980),

Kingdom Manifesto (1985) and EarthCurrents: The Struggle for the World’s Soul holding holiness and social justice together. In addition, Gilbert James ministry. Olver is reported as saying,

Gilbert James had a huge impact on my life. He was the professor of church and society at Asbury while I was there, and it was in a January interterm class on community research techniques that he led in Minneapolis-St. Paul that I made the decision to say yes to God about going to the city and going back to Brooklyn, and he actually spent several interterms in Brooklyn bringing students to be involved in ministries that we were involved in.26

Joe Culumber also chose to focus his life on urban ministry, culminating in his taking Rainier Avenue Church, a dying urban church in South Seattle with about 65 white retirees in one of the region’s most diverse neighborhoods. Refusing to move to the suburbs, in 1985 Culumber took this church into ministry into the ethnic neighborhoods, reaching out to African Americans, but also the large South East Asian refugee community of Laotians, Hmong, Vietnamese, and even Samoan minorities. Currently led by Rev. Peter Chin, Rainier Avenue Church is one of the most vibrant multiethnic churches in urban Seattle. Culumber was convinced by Gilbert James that, “if the Gospel is going to work, it should work in the city.”27 John ministry. He records how he went on an urban experience to Chicago in 1967 where Gilbert James gave the students different assignments,

“He assigned me to ride with police. I didn’t have a lot of interest in police necessarily,” Owen recalled. “I saw unbelievable corruption exercised on the South Side of Chicago.” Among other things, he witnessed tavern owners and businessmen giving cash bribes and alcohol to police, who also had ties to prostitutes. “I couldn’t believe what I was experiencing,” Owen said. “I said to the Lord, ‘If you ever give me a chance to have anything to do with addressing police corruption. I’d like to be able to do that’.”28

the U.S. Supreme Court in Washington, D.C., and he also helped set up chaplaincies in other law enforcement agencies in the nation’s capital. Many of these student connections would come together in Continental Urban Exchange (CUE) meetings, a network of Free Methodists Lake in 1974, and subsequent gatherings mainly in large urban centers. Charles W. Kingsley with the Free Methodist men’s organization, Light and Life Men, initially brought together a number of these urban workers, several of whom had been Gilbert James’ former students including: Dwight Gregory, Joe Culumber, Howard Olver, John “Ike” Owen, and Howard Snyder. Their aim, in part, was to work against the move of urban churches relocating to the suburbs. James would suggest speakers and the group would meet annually for more than two decades. CUE remains an ongoing legacy of Gilbert James within Free Methodism to this day.29 While it may seem paradoxical that James emerged out of a radical holiness background and then integrated that theology into his social justice work, this is not really the case. More likely he was connecting with an historic stream of the holiness movement (including Free Methodism) which did not distinguish between social justice and perfectly love both God and our neighbors. In true traditional holiness form, he would not separate these two. He was somewhat suspicious of of religious experience, but neglected the social dimensions. In this sense he truly inherited the holiness of the Shelhamers. Holiness was not about prohibiting dancing, jewelry, fancy clothing, drinking alcohol, or makeup being to live out the Gospel in our interactions with our neighbors. These things were not inherently evil in this theology. The early holiness leaders rejected these things because they took focus away from God, resources away from serving the poor, and elevated the individual above others. True holiness had to be lived out with the marginalized of society, and that required a simplicity of life so that there would be more available from our personal holiness to foster social holiness.

morally, you will yourself remain morally asleep. If you do not embody controversy, what you say will be an acceptance of the drift to the coming human hell!”30

At Gilbert James’ funeral in 1982 at the Free Methodist Church in Wilmore, Kentucky, time was given for people to share their thoughts. The lone African American to speak was Dr. James Earl Massey, a Dean of the Anderson University School of Theology and Christian Ministry and a trustee of Asbury Theological Seminary, 1978-1992. He noted that what he remembered most was that Gilbert James promoted an “intelligent love.” Gilbert James spoke about his view of Christian love in a 1968 chapel talk Life.” He tells the poignant story of his young son, who loved baby chicks, and how one day he held a baby chick in his hand against his face and inadvertently killed the chick. James notes that his son did not lack for love, but rather lacked a knowledge about the frailty of baby chicks. He then added that “We must understand the world in which we are ministering, for unless we have some understanding of the social, political, and economic this as his overarching reason for being at the Seminary. In his dramatic conclusion to his sermon, he spoke prophetically from 1968 into our world today,

We must labor to know and to understand and above all to seek God’s will and to question over and over and over again, what would Christ do in this situation. But it isn’t easy. Vested interests, competing philosophies, and political parties will cry for our loyalties. They will beguile us, they will mislead us, they will lie to us, but of poverty, of racial strife, of economic and political exploitation, and to witness against wickedness in high places.31

social scientist on the faculty at Asbury Theological Seminary, whose teaching inspired many to work with the urban poor, to form the Ichthus Music Festival to reach young people, to bridge gaps in interracial justice, to truly understand what it meant when Wesley said, “The gospel of Christ knows of no religion but social; no holiness but social holiness.”32

who met James on one of his trips to Chicago and became close friends, noted that James believed that holiness and social justice had to go together. For Pannell, James was the only person at Asbury who truly understood the crisis of the cities, and as such he often seemed to be alone, “a prophet crying in the wilderness.” Pannell opines that the Evangelical church today needs to really understand what it “means to be radical Christians” in the same way as Gilbert James. I am sure James would have agreed wholeheartedly with Pannell as he added, “It will always be a struggle, if justice is at the periphery of our institutions.”33 The archives of the B.L. Fisher library are open to researchers and works to promote research in the history of Methodism and the WesleyanHoliness movement. Images, such as these, provide one vital way to bring history to life. Preservation of such material is often time consuming and the archives of the B.L. Fisher Library, or in donating funds to help purchase asburyseminary.edu.

End Notes

1 All images used courtesy of the Archives of the B.L Fisher Library of Asbury Theological Seminary who own all copyrights to these digital images, unless otherwise noted. Please contact them directly if interested in obtaining permission to reuse these images. 2 As Rev. Philip Amerson notes, this shift might have begun to occur much earlier with Claude Thompson in the late 1940’s. Phone interview with Rev. Philip Amerson, January 11, 2022. Claude Homes Thompson (1908-1971) taught Systematic Theology at Asbury Theological Seminary from 1947-1950. He went on to the Candler School of Theology in 1951 where he taught until his death in 1971. He was a vocal advocate of civil rights and defended a biblical view of equality in terms of race relations. His papers are housed at Emory University in Atlanta. There was an extensive controversy over Thompson’s orthodoxy beginning in 1948 and ending with his forced resignation in 1950. Accused of liberal theology by a small group of faculty members (a charge never substantiated) the so that Thompson felt compelled to resign. As a result, the Seminary lost the administration and a lack of intellectual freedom. This topic is covered in depth in Kenneth Kinghorn’s The Story of Asbury Theological Seminary,

(2010, EMeth Press, Lexington, KY): 161-197. It is also important to note the presence of Dr. George Allen Turner at Asbury Seminary, where he taught Biblical Literature, 1945-1979. He appears in Gilbert James’ Interracial News, even writing an article entitled, “Racial Integration and Prophetic Religion,” 7(1) (April 1956). As a Free Methodist with an interest in racial justice, he would have been an ally of James at Asbury, but he also appears as one of the opponents of Claude Thompson, so his exact role is unclear. In any case, neither Thompson nor Turner were hired for positions on social Seminary for his expertise in the social sciences. 3 This is related in the audio tape of Gilbert James’ funeral held in the Free Methodist Church in Wilmore. In a newspaper article about Gilbert James and his battle with Alzheimer’s, it is mentioned that his father ran away to join the circus as a young person and that was when he adopted the name “James” for his last name. Others relate that Gilbert James was not even sure if James was his real last name, since his father apparently changed his name in a number of situations. 4 Robert L. Peirce, “Disease took toll on brilliant man wife remembered” Louisville Courier-Journal (Kentucky), Sunday, February 13, 1983.

5 Cf. “Shreveport Work Observes Tenth Anniversary,” Interracial News, 4(4) (August 1953). Another helpful piece is It Took a Miracle: The Story of Shreveport Evangelism about 1960 and written and directed by Glen Williamson. A digitized copy of this was obtained from the Marston Historical Society of the Free Methodist Church in Indianapolis, which also holds other material related to the Department of Interracial Evangelism, Gilbert James, and the Shelhamer family. 6 Gilbert James, “He That Winneth Souls,” Interracial News, 1(5) (October 1950): 1.

7

Cf. Interracial News, 1(4) (August, 1950): 1. 8 Mrs. E.E. Shelhamer, “What a Time,” Interracial News, 4(5) (October 1953): 2.

9 Cf. Esther S. James, “The New Camp Ground,” Interracial News, 7(1) (April 1956): 4. 10 Gilbert James, “The Virginia Youth Camp,” Interracial News, 7(2) (July 1956): 2. 11 The year of 1960 appears to be a critical year, since Gilbert James had left the position as Superintendent of the Department of Interracial Evangelism in 1958 to teach at the University of Wisconsin (1961-1965). The work on interracial justice seems to have died out without someone with James’ passion. For a short time, he was replaced

by Glen E. Williamson. The Shelhamer Mission seems to have been taken over by the Redevelopment Land Agency for land projects, no new effort was put into the camp and the land and building were eventually sold. See especially “Camp Historian’s Report for Annual Conference 2007” for the Peach Orchard Christian Retreat Center by Marti Theune, camp historian, retrieved January 12, 2022 at https://docsbay.net/a-ministry-ofthe-maryland-virginia-conference-of-the-free-methodist-church. 12 “Gene Alston, Julia Shelhamer, Honored in Spencerville, Maryland,” Free Methodist Historical Society Newsletter, 7(2) (Winter 2007): 2-3.

13 Gilbert James, “U.S. Supreme Court Outlaws Segregation,” Interracial News, 5(3) (June 1954): 1-2.

14 David L. McKenna, A Future with a History: The Wesleyan Witness of the Free Methodist Church: 1960 to 1995 and Forward. (Light and Life Communications: Indianapolis, IN) 1997: 187. 15 Gilbert M. James, “The Church in Society: The Wesleyan Way.” The Asbury Seminarian, 20(2) (1966): 82-86. Retrieved from: https://place. asburyseminary.edu/asburyjournal/vol20/iss2/8/ 16 Phone interview with Rev. Philip Amerson, January 11, 2022. 17 Interview with Howard Snyder, January 13, 2022. For a video of the full interview see https://vimeo.com/668288091/5fda293c78. 18 Phone interview with Rev. Joseph Culumber, February 11, 2022. 19 Phone interview with Rev. Philip Amerson, January 11, 2022. 20 Phone interviews with John Park, August 5, 2020 and September

3, 2020.

21 Robert W. Lyon, “A Tribute to Dr. Gilbert James.” Short Circuit: A Student Publication of Asbury Theological Seminary, 79(7) (April 25, 1980): 1.

22 Phone interview with Rev. Philip Amerson, January 11, 2022. 23 True to form for Gilbert and Esther James, Esther told their story to the Louisville Courier-Journal in February 13, 1983 (“Disease took toll on brilliant man wife remembered”), most likely as a way to reach out and inform others about the effects of Alzheimer’s. In this article, Esther relates Gilbert’s violent episodes where he yelled obscenities, threatened her with a knife, and even kicked her. But she also tells with great grace their love story and how she kept him at home out of love for the person he really was. It is a tragic story, and yet one of profound Christian love as well. 24 of the Spirit while Coping with Early Onset Alzheimer’s,” Chapel

era of colonialism and slavery. The text moves across the Atlantic to follow the life of Richard Allen, the founder of the African Methodist Episcopal Church. This section is well done and looks at the life of Allen alongside the successive hymnals published during his leadership. The theme of freedom is developed through these essays also, but the shape of the concept of freedom for Beethoven’s listeners and for Allen’s congregations is obviously very different. In a book on music, theology, and a narrow cultural era, a book that moves back and forth from St. Paul to music theory to art interpretation to philosophy, I found myself asking what this work does best. Though it was interesting looking at theology through conceptual lenses provided by music or tracing out again Pauline concepts of freedom versus modern ones, those discussions, while erudite and well-sourced, did not strike me as groundbreaking. The essays exploring Herder, language, and music in the last section pose curious questions about the relationship between language and music, and the contrast between the two. However, in my opinion, of the disciplines through which this book is roaming, it is at its best when it is doing history. The life of Richard Allen and Felix Mendelssohn, outlining the contours of the concept of freedom by looking at artifacts like paintings and scores, elaborating on the movement of Bach’s music from the church to the concert hall: these are the places where TMM shines. I do not come away feeling as though I have met a challenging new theological concept or found a breathtaking interpretation of Beethoven’s Eroica, but I do feel that I have gained some quality historical context and insight into this era that I did not have before.

Paul’s Three Paths to Salvation

Gabriele Boccaccini Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans 2020, 180 pp., hardcover, $24.24 ISBN: 978-0-8028-3921-3

Reviewed by Alberto I. Bonilla-Giovanetti

Gabriele Boccaccini’s Paul’s Three Paths to Salvation seeks to situate the apostle Paul within his heavily apocalyptic Jewish worldview in order to best understand the apostle’s soteriology.

The book is divided into a foreword, a preface, and nine chapters. David Bentley Hart states in his foreword that he admires Boccaccini’s attempt at contextualizing Paul in his apocalyptic Jewish context, which righteousness in the Protestant Reformation (xii–xiii). Boccaccini’s preface gives a brief synopsis of his intellectual journey toward this book, where he sees a turning point in his understanding of Paul when he “began to indiscriminately to all (Jews and gentiles alike), nor exclusively to gentiles Chapter 1 addresses the controversy of whether Paul remained a Jew or if he became a Christian. Here the author gives a brief history of research of Paul’s relationship to Judaism, weaving his thoughts with his account of various important researchers views on this issue. The main schools of thought addressed in this chapter include a Lutheran view, an apocalyptic view, the New Perspective on Paul (NPP), and the Paul-withinJudaism view. Even though Boccaccini strongly sympathizes with the Paul-within-Judaism approach, he seeks to nuance his views, recognizing that “[t]he real Paul belongs neither exclusively to Judaism nor solely to Christianity but rather to the diversity of the Second Temple as one of its most radical and distinctive components” (23). Chapter 2 addresses the controversial question within Pauline studies of whether Paul converted to Christianity. Boccaccini then recounts the process of gentile proselytism into Judaism, the debates in Second Temple Judaism on apostasy, and argues that Paul’s situation is to be understood as an issue within Judaism, not the initial stage of the “parting of the ways” (34). Because of this, Boccaccini sides with those who posit that Paul’s experience on the road to Damascus was a call within Judaism (i.e., change in party from Pharisaism to the Jesus Movement), not a conversion to Christianity (38). Chapter 3 revolves around Jewish apocalyptic literature and its scholars, such as R.H. Charles, Albert Schweitzer, Rudolf Bultmann, and John Collins address apocalyptic views in their different contexts. Secondly, Boccaccini addresses the apocalyptic worldview itself, noting that the question of evil was central to this worldview. He notes that “in apocalyptic circles many viewed the origin of evil not as a consequence of God’s will

or human transgression but as a rebellion of superhuman angelic powers.” The author notes how different streams of Judaism respond to this question, citing primary sources, such as 1 Enoch, Jubilees, Daniel, and Qumran literature, and how these sources relate evil, angelic beings, and adherence to Torah. These issues are related to Paul in that they “are subordinated to Paul’s central apocalyptic idea of the superhuman origin of evil, including the problem of personal salvation, the inclusion of non-Jews, and the relevance of the Mosaic torah” (54). Chapter 4 addresses Jewish messianism. Boccaccini surveys two main versions of the Messiah, the “Son of David,” and the “Son of Man.” On the one hand, the “Son of David” was viewed as a more political and military idea that focused on the monarchy and on adherence to Torah (61). The messianic “Son of Man,” on the other hand, was viewed as being focused on supernatural liberation, not only socio-political freedom. Based creation before the angelic hosts, […] is a preexistent, superhuman being, destined to remain ‘hidden’ until his glorious manifestation” (64). Despite having a minimalist view of the reliability of the Gospels to know the historical Jesus’s self-understanding, Boccaccini argues that Mark asserts that Jesus had an Enochic view of the messiah via the “Son of Man.” Thus, in the author’s view, the early church “understood Jesus in apocalyptic terms. time” (67). Chapter 5 views forgiveness eschatologically and apocalyptically through an Enochic lens. Here Boccaccini argues that, based on 1 Enoch 50, “repentance at the time of the last judgment will cause God to forgive some sinners by mercy” (71), which is different than salvation through following Torah that was common in Second Temple Judaism. This text provides an apocalyptic and eschatological precursor to John the Baptist’s preaching of repentance, since Boccaccini argues that this apocalyptic tradition sustained that God’s judgment was imminent, but his mercy was available to sinners who repented (77). This is then ultimately taken up by Jesus himself in the Synoptic tradition, who is portrayed as the forgiving messiah who, by his death, would forgive the “many” who are sinners (81). Thus, in agreement with the apocalyptic and eschatological views of the early Jesus movement, Paul proclaims this same message of Jesus’s forgiving

Chapter 6 addresses the Jewish background to Paul’s Christology. The author surveys modern scholarship on low and high Christology, especially the works of Bart Ehrman and Larry Hurtado, as well as the complex world of Jewish monotheism. For Boccaccini, the most important question regarding the evolution of Christology is not when Jesus was regarded as divine (cf. Ehrman) or when he was venerated/worshiped (cf. Hurtado), but rather when Jesus was regarded as uncreated (97). On this issue, the author argues that Paul and the Synoptics are in broad agreement on Christology, with the Pauline distinctives of an Adam parallelism and highlight Paul’s apocalyptic bent in his Christology (104). make anachronistic arguments regarding Paul’s soteriology. For Boccaccini, as argued throughout the book, it is best to interpret Paul’s soteriology through an apocalyptic lens. Paul’s apocalyptic lens (cf. Enoch’s Book of Parables) claims that humanity is under the powers of evil spirits and are thus unable to be free from sin on their own, therefore needing Christ’s salvation. Boccaccini, however, differentiates who exactly needs salvation. suffered under the rule of evil powers, but after that, everyone is judged and saved according to their works (122). So, in his view, Boccaccini to separate Paul from Augustine and Luther and read him in his Second Temple apocalyptic environment. Chapter 8 addresses Paul’s role as apostle in the nations. Boccaccini fearers before delving into how the early Jesus movement handled Gentiles. Boccaccini emphasizes the “slavery” motif regarding sin to explain that, in an apocalyptic view, both Jews and Gentiles are in a “postwar scenario” where they are enslaved to sin and the evil spiritual powers because Adam this, being made free from their slavery and made one with Christ and each Boccaccini’s view, the already/not yet reality is made evident in ecclesiology, where followers of Jesus are “[m]ade mystically equal ‘in Christ’ (but not yet

equal in this world), they should live in this world in harmony and mutual love (but not in equality), according to their own distinct identities” (155). to come, not on this one. Chapter 9 summarizes the main points of Boccaccini’s book, especially on Paul’s apocalyptic worldview, the misreading of Augustine Christian theology and interreligious dialogue, especially with Jews. Thus, Boccaccini argues that “In Paul’s view, Christ is God’s gift not to all but to the many—the sinners” (162). So, the implications for Boccaccini are that Jews are saved by following Torah, Gentiles are saved by following the natural law of their conscience, and sinners (whether Jews or Gentiles) are on the path to good works and salvation. Gabriele Boccaccini’s work certainly makes one think about Paul, his context, and how understanding his letters shape our theology and praxis for today. The fact that some of his views would be controversial to many should not deter one to engage with his ideas and accept or push back where necessary. His strong insistence on situating Paul within his Jewish context is key, and his support of reading him through an apocalyptic lens may be debated, however. This last point should surely prompt theological students, both beginners and those with experience, to revisit some of the basic claims of Protestant soteriology and compare them with Boccaccini’s reading of Paul. Furthermore, Boccaccini’s writing style is clear and concise, which invites a wide audience to partake of the discussion. His research. Considering that Paul’s Three Paths to Salvation is clearly written, yet arrives at innovative conclusions, this book is one that should be read by a wide audience. This is especially true considering that one of Boccaccini’s own purposes for his book is to bridge gaps in interreligious dialogue. As said before, not everyone will agree with all of Boccaccini’s arguments, but discuss for a long time.

Paul & the Power of Grace

John M.G. Barclay Grand Rapids, MI: William B. Eerdmans 2020, 200 pp., paperback, $22.00 ISBN: 978-0-8028-7461-0

Reviewed by Matthew R. Peterson

John M.G. Barclay’s 2015 book Paul and the Gift has been hailed by many New Testament scholars as a landmark development on the topic of grace in the writings of Paul. Through his new book Paul & the Power of Grace, Barclay offers a summary (and partial expansion) of the arguments from that earlier work for readers who might have been intimidated by its size and abundance of technical data. Those who have read Paul and the Gift will be familiar with the three chapters provide a brief orientation to ancient Mediterranean giftgiving customs. Barclay demonstrates how ancient assumptions contrast (sometimes starkly) with the modern western notion that “pure” gifts ought to be non-reciprocal and disinterested. References to ancient philosophers and moralists undergird Barclay’s taxonomy of six ancient “perfections” grace language in a variety Second Temple Jewish works, and in so doing giving taxonomy is also employed later in the book to lend precision for Barclay’s analysis of how Paul uses grace terminology in his letters, especially Galatians and Romans. Barclay’s analysis suggests that the “grammar” of Paul’s theology is oriented towards grace as the incongruous favor of God that is intended to establish a reciprocal relationship between God and the believer. He argues that Protestant debates concerning the status of ethical obligations (“works”) in Paul largely stem from imprecision in how the various a tendency to confuse incongruity with noncircularity. For Barclay, Paul’s wrestling with the Christ event and responses to that event from Jews and

other “perfections” operate at a secondary basis. The incongruous gift of Jesus Christ upset ancient conceptions of worth. A disruption of traditional assumptions concerning the worthiness of recipients then molded Paul’s contextualized theology found in his letters. Later chapters interact with other prevailing views on Paul, draw address how grace language is employed in the disputed and non-Pauline letters. Despite the limited scope that a book of this size affords, Barclay successfully summarizes several major areas of contention in Pauline discussions of key passages in the letters should prove helpful for readers who might not be fully versed in recent trends in Pauline studies. Barclay’s the theoretical realm by delving into the pastoral implications of God’s to the work given its intended audience. Although a substantial amount of detail found in Paul and the Gift has been omitted in pursuit of a shorter format, Paul & the Power of Grace retains the major points and several minor nuances from that larger work quite well, which is a remarkable accomplishment. For those who have already read Paul and the Gift, this new book can serve as a helpful Barclay’s writing style is, as always, a treat that successfully traverses the narrow bridge between erudition and approachability. Such a balance is especially appreciated given the intent of this work to engage additional (non-academic) readers. Readers who wish to engage with a thorough exegesis of the pivotal passages would do well to pick up the larger Paul and the Gift their ministry yet lack the time or technical training to work through that book, or for college or seminary students who are less familiar with the current scope of Pauline studies, Paul & the Power of Grace is perfectly targeted.

After Nationalism: Being American in an Age of Division

Samuel Goldman Philadelphia, PA: University of Pennsylvania Press 2021, 208 pp., hardcover, $24.95 ISBN: 978-0812251647

Reviewed by Zach Jeffcoat

After Nationalism conjured up an old memory of mine – one With time, this ritual has become increasingly strange to me. Realizing I had no sense of their continuity, it seems that I merely assented to them as normal goods. Dr. Samuel Goldman analyzes the national symbols that US citizens often mistake for commonly held ideas and sentiments. In After Nationalism, Dr. Goldman uses a rough set of ideal types to describe historical conceptions of the American nation: the covenant, creed, and crucible. First, the covenant symbolized “a special relationship between the English settlers of the Atlantic Coast and the God of [Abraham].” between its institutions [and] universal ideals” -- like individual rights. Last, the crucible borrows Americanness as an eventuality in the oftcited melting pot analogy (2). In the second to last chapter, Dr. Goldman uses another mnemonic -- memory, nostalgia, narrative -- to describe the different moods of historiography. Finally, Goldman explains how his title functions as an allusion and a thesis. After Nationalism is a play on the title After Virtue (by Alasdair MacIntyre). As MacIntyre argued concerning virtue, Goldman argues that a “shared vocabulary” belies a “long-running dispute about their [actual] content” (118). In short, he argues that stronger, more coherent institutions will be best for sustaining the Union amid a “cacophony” of national ideas (119). Dr. Goldman’s framework is ready for application in discussions among Christian scholars and laypeople alike because its familiar terminology can be related to traditional conceptions of Christian [communitarianism/ commonality]. Most obviously, the concept of covenant is richly laid out through scripture and thoroughly explored within the tradition. Next, the Book of Galatians -- with particular attention to 3:28 and its context

(“neither Jew nor gentile […] you are all one in Christ.”) -- can be put into robust dialogue with Goldman’s exploration of crucible and melting pot nationalism. Then, most creatively, naming “creedal nationalism” in a discussion can help to highlight political nuances in discussions of creedal and confessional orders of Christianity. Apart from its orthodox institutionalism, Goldman’s conclusions could be characterized as lasses-faire or typical-libertarian. While I agree that stately pluralism might be the best potential outcome “after nationalism,” I question whether anyone wants to see that come about. For example, much of the gridlock surrounding federal policies could be easily resolved by empowering state governments to make and enforce different laws, but there are two major drawbacks. First, states have not always had a good record of governance. Second, I would suggest that -- in the absence of major reforms -- only wealthy citizens would be able or likely to move to a state whose governance they prefer. With so many landlocked minorities, federalism (and, with it, nationalism) will tend to remain strong. That said, the relationships between geography and belief are worth discussing at length.

As one of Max Weber’s fanboys, I cannot help but include him and Protestantism is relevant to the American spirit. In particular, I feel that Weber’s work demonstrates how rationalized forms of sectarianism can be almost supernaturally effective in producing social change but, without proper checks and balances, can become cancerous towards the same ends.

All things considered, Dr. Goldman’s After Nationalism is an eloquent brief on the belief in and interpretation of United States’ national history. Its suitability for broad consumption is only matched by the timeliness of its publishing. After Nationalism could be a crucial read for those looking to process the sentiments and ideas that the upcoming midterm elections are sure to try and conjure in us all.

Abject Joy: Paul, Prison, and the Art of Making Do

Ryan S. Schellenberg New York, NY: Oxford University Press 2021, 248 pp., hardcover, $74.00 ISBN-13: 978-0190065515

Reviewed by Zachariah S. Motts

Page after page, Abject Joy is an insightful, thought-provoking book. While there will be plenty to discuss, develop, and disagree with in this well-researched monograph, it is a work that opens new possibilities thing to do in biblical studies, especially in trying to shed new light on the Pauline texts. From the beginning, though, Schellenberg takes a novel angle and plunges into the prison experience of St. Paul. The methodology at work is to take seriously what we know of the physical, social, and psychological effects of prison isolation and deprivation in recent studies, and to lay those realities alongside extrabiblical evidence from Paul’s era. All of this is done with an eye on the Pauline texts, looking for places where the interpretations that grew up around Paul may be romanticizing or heroizing the realities that he faced. The reader is asked to revisit seemingly basic questions once again: Who is this Paul, and how does he describe his own experience? What does it mean to write about “joy” from prison? Densely researched throughout, Schellenberg takes the reader on a tour of ancient sources from various strata of the Greco-Roman world. We are invited to try on different interpretations of Paul as contemporary letters, reports, and narratives are unfolded in front of us. Does the language of a noble or like someone without any status in society? At the same time, Schellenberg details analogous situations and experiences of prison life from recent studies, guiding the reader through ethnographic evidence that questions the more idealistic, hagiographic descriptions of Paul’s ordeal. Sociological study is brought to bear in an attempt to identify some of the shared human features of being an imprisoned person in any time period. Of course, Schellenberg is also providing an interpretation, but it is a position richly supported by ancient extra-biblical textual evidence

seen through the lens of the lived realities of incarcerated persons, which calls us back to the biblical text once again to reevaluate and refresh our understandings. While he is careful to note the differences between modern prison experiences and ancient ones and is wary of over-psychologizing Paul, he does believe that carefully considering the accounts of imprisoned people from ancient and modern times can bring us closer to understanding the meaning of the “joy” that Paul is writing about in correspondence with Christians on the outside. Whether or not one agrees with the directions Schellenberg takes the evidence, he does a great service by shaking entrenched and seemingly self-evident interpretations of the Pauline epistles without being baldly controversial. It was also enjoyable to watch the way the methodology and argumentation develops throughout Abject Joy. For a biblical studies student looking for inspiration on how to approach research on the wellworn and heavily debated passages of the Bible, there is much to learn here. Tomes about the Apostle Paul pile up, but this monograph of modest length is one that is worth taking note of and discussing. I look forward to future offerings from Schellenberg and hope to see more monographs in this general vein of biblical scholarship. A recommended read for Pauline scholars and students alike.

Handing Down the Faith: How Parents Pass Their Religion on to the Next Generation

Christian Smith and Amy Adamczyk New York, NY: Oxford University Press 2020, 258 pp., ebook, $9.99 ISBN: 978-0190093358

Reviewed by Zachariah S. Motts

There are many books on parenting by religious parenting gurus of one type or another. Most offer varying degrees of well-meaning advice on how to deal with particular cultural issues and parent in a manner faithful to one’s faith tradition. There are many such books on the market, but this is not one of those books. This is a work of original research in conversation with other research on parenting that attempts to understand the reality of religious parenting and religious transmission in the United States. Rather

than give advice on how parenting should happen, Handing Down the Faith is a sociological study that attempts to listen careful to American parents. In that way, it is a descriptive rather than a prescriptive work. The of American parents to paint a picture of attitudes toward parenting and the outcomes of those attitudes. Their team conducted 235 interviews of 150 households from a spectrum of American religious adherents: “white evangelicals, white mainline Protestants, black Protestants, white Catholics, Hispanic Catholics, Mormons, Conservative Jews, Muslims, Buddhists, and Hindus” along with “a sample of non-religious parents for comparative purposes” (227). So, though the authors admit that the sample and the topics of some of the interview questions tended to skew Christian, voices of parents from other religious traditions feature prominently throughout the work. Voices of American parents are the focus of Smith and Adamczyk’s study. They give space to allow parents to describe their own understanding of religious parenting in order to illustrate better the cultural and conceptual world in which these people are moving and raising their children. Their words have been carefully transcribed, coded, and placed alongside the results of other surveys in ways that provide deeper insight into those statistics. This work is a partial contribution to a larger conversation, and the authors are careful in their interpretations to not draw overly broad conclusions about religious transmission. Even so, they are able to point out some thought-provoking features of the sociological landscape of American religious parenting and the self-understandings of those parents. Obviously, as with any study of this type, it provides a snapshot of the past. Though recently published, the bulk of the research occurred between 2015 and 2016. There are times that the concerns of the text do seem dated after the boiling interactions between religion, politics, immigration, racial discrimination, and public health over the past few years. I was struck at one point by comments concerning perceptions of racial discrimination in schools by Asian-American parents which seemed very disparate from where the conversation is today. One cannot help but wonder how different these interviews would have gone today, and how these major events, like the closing of places of worship because of COVID-19, is affecting religious transmission today. Those limitations, though, are not as much a criticism of what Smith and Adamczyk have created here as a call for continuing research.