All posts from "January 2009"

"How Great Thou Art" & the 100-Year-Old Bass

by David Neff

The story of George Beverly Shea's signature tune.

George Beverly Shea turns 100 on Sunday, February 1. Ever since 1944, when 26-year-old Wheaton College student Billy Graham recruited him to sing on the radio program "Songs in the Night," Bev Shea has been the face and the voice most associated in the public mind with the famous evangelist.

The song most associated with Billy Graham is "Just As I Am," but Bev Shea's signature tune is clearly "How Great Thou Art." Even though nearly every gospel artist - from Elvis Presley to the Mormon Tabernacle Choir - has recorded it, it is Bev Shea's tune. Here's the story of that song.

George Beverly Shea's first contact with "How Great Thou Art" dates to 1954. But the song itself dates to 1885, when Swedish pastor Carl Gustav Boberg was caught in a thunderstorm.

It was a thunderstorm that, according to legend, struck fear into the heart of Martin Luther and extracted from him a vow to become a monk. Pastor Boberg, on the other hand, was filled with awe at the grandeur of the storm, the rainbow, and the brilliant light and bird songs that followed the storm.

Boberg sensed the power of God in that storm much the way the writer of Psalm 29 did: "The God of glory thunders, the LORD thunders over the mighty waters. ... The voice of the LORD strikes with flashes of lightning." The storm's majesty inspired Boberg (who later became editor of the Christian newspaper, Witness of the Truth, and a member of the Swedish parliament) to write a nine-stanza poem along the same lines. "I see the stars, I hear the mighty thunder, / Thy power throughout the universe displayed."

Boberg published the poem in 1886, then sold the rights to the Mission Covenant Church in Sweden. Two years later he visited a church in Varmland and was surprised to hear the congregation singing his words to an old Swedish folk tune. In 1891, Boberg published the poem again, this time with the tune in Witness of the Truth.

From Sweden to Nagaland
The hymn made its way to the English speaking world circuitously - via a German translation (Wie gross bist Du, 1907) and from German into Russian (1912). In 1922, that Russian version was published in America as part of a collection of Russian language hymns by the American Bible Society. The hymn reached American shores again in 1925, thanks to a Swede named E. Gustav Johnson who translated several verses of the Swedish original into English. At that time, however, the song just didn't catch on with American worshipers.

It was the Russian version that caught the attention of English missionary Stuart K. Hine who with his wife was evangelizing the Ukrainian countryside. Hine used the Russian hymn in his ministry there and developed an English version as well. The first two verses of Hine's English mirrored Boberg's awe at God's power in nature. To these he added a third verse devoted to the amazing love of God expressed in Christ's atoning death: "And when I think that God, His Son not sparing, / Sent him to die, I scarce can take it in."

The outbreak of World War II forced the Hines back to London, where they continued to evangelize among war refugees frightened by the German blitz. The promise of deliverance at Christ's Second Coming inspired Hine to add a fourth and final verse: "When Christ shall come with shouts of acclamation ..."

In 1949, Hine published the hymn in a missionary magazine that went out to 15 countries. The song spread and reached America again in 1951when it was introduced by James Caldwell at the Stony Brook Bible Conference Center on Long Island. And in 1954, the future Fuller Seminary missiologist J. Edwin Orr heard it sung by Naga tribespeople in India.

The Graham Team
That was the same year that George Beverly Shea bumped into his friend George Gray on Oxford Street in London. Gray gave him a copy of "How Great Thou Art" that he just happened to have in his briefcase. In this 1982 video produced by World Wide Pictures, Shea recalls that meeting and the way the song began to play a role in Billy Graham crusades. (The segment dealing with "How Great Thou Art" begins 16 minutes and 23 seconds into the 20-minute video.)

Song leader Cliff Barrows had also been given a copy of the song, and after the 1954 London Harringay crusade, Barrows had Paul Mickelson arrange the music for use in the 1955 Toronto crusade in Maple Leaf Garden. However it was not until Billy Graham's 1957 Madison Square Garden crusade that the song became extremely popular. "We sang it about a hundred times at the insistence of the New York audiences," says Shea. "And from then on, it became a standard at most of the crusades."

That sounds like the end of the story. But history is full of ironies and strange twists. This surely is one: Although Boberg's "O Store Gud" was sung in Sweden since the 19th century, it never became really popular there until, as Swedish gospel singer Per-Erik Hallin notes, Elvis Presley recorded a Grammy-winning version of "How Great Thou Art." Then, thanks to Elvis, "O Store Gud" experienced a major revival and became a favorite in its native land.

Oil, Coal, and Conservative Religion

by Elesha Coffman

Is there a connection? Historians press - perhaps too hard - for answers.

This is a belated report from the American Historical Associa-
tion/American Society of Church History conference, held in New
York City the first week of January. Excellent sessions on American religious history abounded, with a surprising number of them scheduled on the AHA program. My hunch is that this abundance has something to do with the relative scarcity of American Christian history on the program at the American Academy of Religion, the other major conference for scholars in this field, but that's my own professional bugaboo, not worth ranting about here.

Anyhow, I'd like to focus on one AHA session, titled, "Oil, Coal, and Conservative Religion in the Twentieth Century." (In the interest of full disclosure, I worked with four of the five scholars involved with this session at Duke or the University of North Carolina, so I'm not exactly choosing it at random.)

The first paper, by Brendan Pietsch at Duke, dug into the mind of Ly-
man Stewart, the early twentieth-century oil tycoon who bankrolled
The Fundamentals. Drawing on Stewart's writings, the paper found an alchemical link between drilling and evangelism, as Stewart repeatedly professed a desire to transmute oil wealth into "living gospel truth" as quickly as possible. The paper also sketched a link
between the breathless search for new reserves -
Stewart was known to sniff for oil in gopher holes - and a similarly exhilarating search for hidden truths in the Bible's prophetic passages.

The second paper, presented by Seth Dowland, also of Duke, told the story of coincident school boycotts and coal miners' strikes in West Virginia in 1974. First, angry about new language arts textbooks they called "trashy, filthy, and too one-sided," conservative Christian parents pulled their children out of the Kanawha County public schools. A few days later, the country's coal miners, including many from the same area of West Virginia, struck for higher wages and better health benefits. A miner who lived down the street from the head of the United Mine Workers of America told the Charleston Gazette, "I don't think there will be anybody back to work until those textbooks are out." Dowland went on to detail the ways two groups of disgruntled West Virginians came together in a "populist revolt that captivated the nation."

Finally, Darren Dochuck of Purdue University elucidated the little-known career of R.G. LeTourneau, extraction industry pioneer, defense contractor extraordinaire, and founder of an eponymous evangelical university specializing in the training of engineers. Dochuck called his paper, "Extracted Truth: The Politics of God and Black Gold in Post-World War II America." he depicted LeTourneau as a man absolutely convinced that he moved mountains of dirt for the glory of God.

Causality Crusade
Katie Lofton, soon to join the faculty of Yale University, responded to these papers. She pressed all of the presenters to identify causal relationships between the phenomena on which they reported. To paraphrase her questions, Did Lyman Stewart's belief in an imminent Second Coming propel him into the oilfields and govern the decisions he made there? Did West Virginia coal miners really walk off their jobs because they didn't like an English textbook? Did LeTourneau's evangelicalism predetermine his alliance with the New Right (including the Bush family) and indifference to the environmental consequences of extraction?

In several ways, the papers begged such questions. All three had linked the energy industry and evangelicalism with an "and," but none had stated an emphatic "because." Additionally, each paper quoted at least one figure providing religious justification for his or her actions. The causal connection leapt out of the sources, putting the historians on the spot. If a historical actor writes that God instructed him to dig his well right here, or move that particular mound of dirt, on what grounds may a scholar argue otherwise? On the other hand, aren't scholars expected to probe such claims? If historians cannot add context and critical analysis to the primary sources, libraries ought to trade out all of their monographs for photocopied diaries and letters.

The Suction Hypothesis
In other ways, though, the causality crusade made me uneasy, because it seemed to single out conservative religion. By way of contrast, my dissertation on The Christian Century noted that the magazine derived significant financial support from William H. Hoover of Hoover vacuum fame, but none of my readers asked me for a causal link between suction and liberal Protestantism. The re-founding editor of the Century was a Disciples of Christ minister, Hoover was a Disciples layman, and no further connection seemed necessary. Does theology always reign supreme among conservative Christians' motivations? Does conservative - especially Fundamentalist - Christianity strike scholars as so exotic that it obscures other lines of inquiry? In short, are conservative Christians treated differently by historians than members of different traditions, and, if so, how and why?

None of this is to suggest that I found the AHA session hostile or biased. The stories told by the presenters deserve more attention, and the ensuing discussion clarified some issues while complicating others, which is exactly what academic conferences are supposed to do. I left thinking more about my own motivations and about the kinds of questions I pose to historical actors. Should I look for a link between suction (or perhaps broader subjects like cleanliness and domesticity) and liberal Protestantism? I'll let you know if I find any.

Inaugural Scriptures

by Ted Olsen

A look back at the Bibles and Scripture passages on which our presidents have (and have not) taken their oath.

Christian History's issue on the American presidents included several great religious quotes from inaugural addresses.

Among them is the following quote from William Henry Harrison, who didn't get to do much as president other than give this speech (after delivering a long speech on a cold day, he came down with pneumonia and died a month into his term): "I deem the present occasion sufficiently important and solemn to justify me in expressing to my fellow-citizens a profound reverence for the Christian religion and a thorough conviction that sound morals, religious liberty, and a just sense of religious responsibility are essentially connected with all true and lasting happiness …"

Also worth noting is Jimmy Carter's explicit reference to the Bible upon which he took the oath of office: "I have just taken the oath of office on the Bible my mother gave me a few years ago, opened to a timeless admonition from the ancient prophet Micah: 'He hath showed thee, O man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God.'"

Those inaugural Bibles have been a source of much media attention in recent days.

Many have noted the odd verse upon which George Washington took his oath: "Zebulun shall dwell at the haven of the sea; and he shall be for an haven of ships; and his border shall be unto Zidon"(Gen. 49:13). Apparently the Bible was opened at random that day. No presidents have since chosen that particular verse as their model, but several--Warren Harding, Dwight Eisenhower, and George H.W. Bush--have picked Washington's Bible. Actually, so did Jimmy Carter. He, Eisenhower, and Bush all used two Bibles--the Washington Bible and a family Bible. George W. Bush had wanted to use the Washington Bible in his 2001 inauguration, but the weather was too poor to expose the historic Bible to the elements.

The story goes that Washington was all set for his inauguration when it was decided he should take the oath on a Bible. But none was readily available at the ceremony, so Jacob Morton, Master of St. John's Masonic Lodge, rushed to go get one from the Masonic temple.

No Bible is actually required by the constitution -- Theodore Roosevelt, for example, did not take his 1901 oath of office on a Bible or any other book after William McKinley's assassination. (By the way, in that famous photo of Lyndon Baines Johnson taking the oath after Kennedy's assassination, that's not a full Bible. That's a Catholic missal found in John F. Kennedy's Air Force One desk.)

Nor is "so help me God" part of the presidential oath of office. (It is, however, part of the official oath for federal judges and justices and several other federal employees.) The unverified (and historically questioned) story is that Washington ad libbed it. It first reliably appears at Chester Arthur's inauguration in 1881.

(What is part of the presidential oath is a promise "that I will faithfully execute the office of president of the United States." Chief Justice John Robers tripped Barack Obama up on that "faithfully" part.)

Similarly to George Washington, Abraham Lincoln was nearly left without a Bible for his oath. He had arrived in Washington, D.C., without most of his belongings, so William Thomas Carroll, clerk of the Supreme Court, brought a Bible from his office. And like Washington's, Lincoln's Bible was turned to a verse at random. For his second inauguration, Lincoln was more specific and chose three verses on which to lay his hand: Matthew 7:1: "Judge not, lest ye be judged." Matthew 18:7; "Woe unto the world because of offences! for it must needs be that offences come; but woe to that man by whom the offence cometh!" and Revelation 16:7 "And I heard another out of the altar say, Even so, Lord God Almighty, true and righteous are thy judgments." (I'm not entirely certain how he placed his hand on all three verses, but he did have long fingers.)

It was on this Bible that Obama was sworn in today. Obama referenced Scripture in today's address. ("We remain a young nation, but in the words of scripture, the time has come to set aside childish things." It was a reference to 1 Cor. 13:11: "When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things." Perhaps it was among the day's subtle references to Franklin D. Roosevelt, who took his oath on 1 Cor. 13.) But, at least from what I can tell, the Bible remained closed for the oath of office. (Other closed Bible users: Harry S Truman, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson, and George W. Bush.)

The most popular verse for the oath is 2 Chronicles 7:14: "If my people, who are called by my name, will humble themselves and pray and seek my face and turn from their wicked ways, then will I hear from heaven and will forgive their sin and will heal their land." The Library of Congress says two presidents have used it. CNN says three.

This is the part of the blog post where I should probably come up with some beautiful summary of the importance of Scripture in American culture or perhaps some indication that Inauguration Day has resonances with church history as well as American history.

Instead, I'll make a cheap joke about how it sure looks like Rick Warren was present at McKinley's inauguration as well as Obama's (compare this photo with this one) and note a less auspicious historical resonance that has nothing to do with church history but will be irresistible to you history nuts. In 1873, more than 150 canaries were provided for the inauguration of Ulysses S. Grant. But it was so cold that day that each of them froze to death in their cages (also, the strings of the orchestra's instruments snapped). Exactly 100 years later, planners for Richard Nixon's inaugural thoughtfully applied a chemical called Roost-No-More to the trees along Pennsylvania Avenue. The chemical was supposed to give the birds itchy feet so they wouldn't sit around and poop on the crowds (or the President, for that matter). Instead the birds ate the chemical and died en masse, their corpses littering the parade route.

There are of course many other fun, non-religious facts about inaugurations past. We might, for example, compare the time when nobody bothered to pick up outgoing President Franklin Pierce for James Buchanan's inauguration with John Quincy Adams's refusal to attend Andrew Jackson's swearing in.

But it's getting late here on Inauguration Day, so I'll quote James Madison, who told a friend at his Inaugural Ball, "I would much rather be in bed."

Back for the Future in Calvin's Geneva

by Collin Hansen

I can't imagine Calvin would be pleased to know that in 2009 Europeans remember him the way Americans remember Samuel Adams--as a brand of beer.

We hadn't even planned to visit Geneva on our 2008 spring break tour of Germany, Switzerland, and Italy. With little more than a week to visit several sites, we didn't want to aggravate our friend, who was gracious enough to drive us around Europe.

But after visiting another friend in Lausanne, we couldn't resist driv-
ing to the southwest corner of Lac L?man (Lake Geneva).

I hadn't expected to miss much in Geneva. Sure, the city boasts gorgeous views of the Alpine lake, but we could see similar views from Lausanne. Traveling on a tight budget, we knew we couldn't afford to stay in Geneva, renowned today for its robust banking industry. I wasn't drawn to visit the international headquarters for the Red Cross or learn about the League of Nations, hosted by Geneva from 1919 to its demise in 1946. What I wanted to see were sites devoted to the legacy of reformer John Calvin, who moved to Geneva in 1536. But the travel books told me not to expect much more than la chaise de Calvin. The International Monument of the Reformation looked neat, but overall it appeared that Calvin's stature had deteriorated significantly since 1909, Calvin's 400th birthday and the year construction on the monument began.

Nevertheless, we decided to add a day trip to Geneva. You might imagine my delight when I learned that the International Museum of the Reformation had opened next to St. Peter's Cathedral in 2005. Inside I learned from a presentation that recounted the issues at stake during the Reformation. In an effort to reach younger audiences, the museum even recreated a dinner debate over predestination between Calvin and several other Genevan theologians. This was my kind of museum. But I'm still not sure why they decided to include Rousseau in the discussion.

My mood dampened when I reached the room devoted to Calvin's legacy in the 20th century. It would be difficult for me remember anything from that display that Calvin would have endorsed. Then my enthusiasm dipped even further when we reached the gift shop. As a good American tourist, I was primed to buy something that would help me remember this remarkable visit. All I could find were obscure French books and lots of beer - not just any beer, but Calvinus. I'm afraid I'm not truly Reformed, because I don't drink. But I can't imagine Calvin would be pleased to know that in 2009, his 500th birthday, Europeans remember him the way Americans remember Samuel Adams.

Indeed, the last 100 years have not been kind to Calvin, nor to the continent's shrinking Christian churches. Remembering the continent's Christian heritage through a museum is a positive step. But Europe's problem isn't history. I love how Europeans preserve their past amid efforts to accommodate the present. It makes me wish Americans would construct buildings intended to stand longer than 50 years. Still, the American church has been renewed throughout the years by faithful Christians who, like Calvin, sought God's direction for how to meet contemporary challenges. Perhaps, in this anniversary year, God will begin to raise up a generation of European church leaders who find inspiration in the past, courage for the present, and wisdom for the future.

Signs and Wonders: The Charismatic Power of Early Christianity

by Chris Armstrong

When we teach about the early church, we frequently omit the story of spiritual gifts.

Cessationism is the belief that the miracles of Jesus' lifetime and the apostolic period happened solely to attest to the authority and inspiration of the apostolic writings, and that miracles and extraordinary spiritual gifts ceased after the writing of the apostolic documents was concluded.

As writers such as ex-Dallas Seminary professor Jack Deere have argued, this is a position with no biblical foundation. But it also has a problem with the historical record. That record shows clearly that the early church was quite active in the charismatic gifts at least through 200 AD. There was a decline in the 3rd century, and then again it became active.

Sadly, many writers and teachers who are not cessationist continue to give the impression that miracles and extraordinary gifts were phenomena limited to the apostolic period. The way the early church is usually taught, we hear much about martyrdom and persecution; much about Gnostics and Arians and doctrinal disputes; much about how bishops and clergy roles evolved, and how the apostolic tradition was passed down and the canon of the New Testament evolved.

We hear how Tertullian scoffed at those who tried to translate the gospel into the categories of Greek philosophy; how Origen of Alexandria nearly single-handedly invented the systematic study of the Bible; how Irenaeus defended the faith against a host of heresies and spoke of the Work of Christ in illuminating new ways; how Cyprian insisted on the unity of the church and its necessity for salvation.

What we don't usually hear is how these same august teachers and bishops from the 100s and 200s AD and beyond - Tertullian, Cyprian, Irenaeus, and many more - talked about miracles of healing, prophecy, and exorcism as everyday occurrences in the church. Tertullian is typical when he says "God everywhere manifests signs of his own power - to his own people for their comfort, to strangers for a testimony unto them" (Tertullian, A Treatise on the Soul).

In other words, we are usually not told that the early Christian church was a charismatic church. I use this term in its technical sense: the community of Christians in the 100s and 200s continued to experience the charismata, the spiritual gifts, described by the Apostle Paul in his first letter to the Corinthians.

The 19th-century church historian Adolf Harnack, in his Mission and Expansion of Christianity, explored this seldom-seen side of the early church. From the mouth of the influential bishop of Carthage, Cyprian, for example, we hear this:

In Christianity there is conferred (upon pure chastity, upon a pure mind, upon pure speech) the gift of healing the sick by rendering poisonous potions harmless, [143] by restoring the deranged to health, and thus purifying them from ignominious pains, by commanding peace for the hostile, rest for the violent, and gentleness for the unruly, by forcing - under stress of threats and invective - a confession from unclean and roving spirits who have come to dwell within mankind, by roughly ordering them out, and stretching them out with struggles, howls, and groans, as their sufferings on the rack, by lashing them with scourges, and burning them with fire. This is what goes on, though no one sees it; the punishments are hidden, but the penalty is open. Thus what we have already begun to be, that is, the Spirit we have received, comes into its kingdom. (Harnack, 142-3)

Harnack's list

Harnack goes on to categorize the charismatic activities of the 2nd- and 3rd-century church - and the list is impressive:

(1) God speaks to the missionaries in visions, dreams, and ecstasy, revealing to them affairs of moment and also trifles, controlling their plans, pointing out the roads on which they are to travel, the cities where they are to stay, and the persons whom they are to visit. Visions occur especially after a martyr?dom, the dead martyr appearing to his friends during the weeks that immediately follow his death, as in the case of Potamiaena (Eus., H.E., vi. 5), or of Cyprian, or of many others.

It was by means of dreams that Arnobius (Jerome, Chron., p. 326) and others were converted. Even in the middle of the third century, the two great bishops Dionysius and Cyprian' were both visionaries. . . .

(2) At the missionary addresses of the apostles or evangelist, or at the services of the churches which they founded, sudden movements of rapture are experienced, many of them being simultaneous seizures; these are either full of terror and dismay, convulsing the whole spiritual life, or exultant outbursts of a joy that sees heaven opened to its eyes. The simple question, "What must I do to be saved?" also bursts upon the mind with an elemental force.

(3) Some are inspired who have power to clothe their experience in words-prophets to explain the past, to interpret and to fathom the present, and to foretell the future. Their prophecies relate to the general course of history, but also to the fortunes of individuals, to what individuals are to do or leave undone.

(4) Brethren are inspired with the impulse to improvise prayers and hymns and psalms.

(5) Others are so filled with the Spirit that they lose con?sciousness and break out in stammering speech and cries, or in unintelligible utterances - which can be interpreted, however, by those who have the gift.

(6) Into the hands of others, again, the Spirit slips a pen, either in an ecstasy or in exalted moments of spiritual tension; they not merely speak but write as they are bidden.

(7) Sick persons are brought and healed by the missionaries, or by brethren who have been but recently awakened; wild paroxysms of terror before God's presence are also soothed, and in the name of Jesus demons are cast out.

(8) The Spirit impels men to an immense variety of extraordinary actions - to symbolic actions which are meant to reveal some mystery or to give some directions for life, as well as to deeds of heroism.

(9) Some perceive the presence of the Spirit with every sense; they see its brilliant light, they hear its voice, they smell the fragrance of immortality and taste its sweetness. Nay more; they see celestial persons with their own eyes, see them and also hear them; they peer into what is hidden or distant or to come; they are even rapt into the world to come, into heaven itself, where they listen to "words that cannot be uttered."

Burgess's timeline

In the twenty-first century, Pentecostal scholar Stanley M. Burgess updated and deepend Harnack's testimony on this matter. For his The New International Dictionary of Pentecostal and Charismatic Movements (Zondervan, 2002), Burgess created an absorbing 8-page timeline summarizing his three-volume study, The Holy Spirit: Ancient Christian Traditions; Eastern Christian Traditions; and Medieval Roman Catholic and Reformation Traditions. Like Harnack's list, Burgess's timeline shows that the early centuries are full of charismatic phenomena.
Here are just a few high points noted by Burgess, supporting his claim that the Holy Spirit has empowered ordinary Christians through the centuries - with jaw-dropping results:

Writers of the Didache and the Shepherd of Hermas [two inspirational books used widely in the early church] witness so much charismatic activity they find it necessary to distinguish between true and false prophets. At about the same time, the writer of Pseudo-Barnabas suggests prophetic ministry is normative in the church.

[Christian apologist] Justin Martyr argues that God has withdrawn the Spirit of prophecy and miracles from the Jews and has transferred it to the church as proof of her continued divine favor.

Irenaeus of Lyon describes the gifts of prophecy, discernment of spirits, and exorcism in his Gallic church, and even mentions that individuals have been raised from the dead. He warns against certain false Gnostics who fabricate spiritual gifts to win favor with the na?ve.

Origen of Alexandria says healings, exorcisms, and validating signs and wonders continue to be experienced in the church. Just as miracles and wonders added to the credibility of 1st-century apostles, so they continue to draw unbelievers into the Christian fold."

Augustine [of Hippo], in The City of God, reports contemporary divine healings and other miracles. These he links directly to the conversion of pagans.

Harnack's list and Burgess's timeline suggest something important: The church has rarely lacked for witnesses, from the widest variety of camps, who have proclaimed that the Holy Spirit is alive, well, and gifting believers in his church.

Though diverse in many ways, these witnesses of past centuries join in claiming for the church the same "promise of the Father" Jesus held out to his Apostles: "Do not leave Jerusalem, but wait for the gift my Father promised, which you have heard me speak about. For John baptized with water, but in a few days you will be baptized with the Holy Spirit" (Acts 1:4-5).