BIBLE
STUDENTS: WHO ARE THEY? WHERE DID THEY COME FROM?
Preface to
Bible Student History
But sanctify
the Lord God in your hearts: and be ready always to give an answer to every man
that asketh you a reason of the hope that is in you with meekness and fear.—1Pe 3:15
Who are you?
What church do you attend? To what denomination do you belong? When these
questions are asked they are not easy to answer. Bible Students are not easy to
categorize.
When Alex
Halley wrote his classical Roots and that became a television sensation, it
started a trend of looking for one’s historical origins. Since this issue
completes 75 years of publishing THE HERALD, it seems appropriate to do the
same.
The Bible
Student movement began about a hundred twenty years ago with the activity of
Charles Taze Russell. Understanding the unique religious atmosphere of that
time is essential to comprehending the whys and wherefores of a new movement.
This supplement
to the Diamond Anniversary of THE
HERALD will attempt to
address this issue—placing the Bible Student movement in its historical
context, both the broad scale setting of the entire Christian church and the
narrower focus of the second advent movement.
Our regular
feature, a verse by verse Bible Study, leads off this section. Entitled In the
Beginning, it traces the very inception of the Christian church as it looks at
each verse in the first chapter of Acts.
In Contending
for the Faith we will note how controversy has always been an integral part of
church history. Without question, the Bible can be a difficult book to
understand. Sincere Christians have debated and fought mightily in their search
for an accurate interpretation. They have not always agreed. Four of these
great disputes are chronicled in this article—the nature of God, the authority
of the priesthood, justification by faith, and the question of election and
free grace.
Philosophy and
religion have walked side by side. Man’s political struggle for justice has
paralleled and interacted with his search for a more equitable religion.
Tracing this tendency, particularly as it set the scene for religion in the
close of the last century, is the object of the article The Decline of Faith.
More directly
impacting the Bible Student movement was the interest in the second advent in
the middle of the nineteenth century, centering around the activities of
William Miller, anticipating the return of Jesus Christ in 1844. The
relationship between the Miller movement and that of the Bible Students is
chronicled in the article The Midnight Cry.
Zeroing in on
the origins of the Bible Students are two articles. A New Wine Bottle deals
with the birth pangs that accompanied the establishment of the new movement,
while In The Time of Harvest takes a broader view of the entire ministry of
Pastor Russell.
The Bible
Student movement was revolutionary in its time. It was made the more so by the
benign and benevolent leadership of Pastor Russell. The marked contrast between
his leadership and the strong, dictatorial policies of his successor, Joseph
Rutherford, was a cause of much confusion and dismay. Seeking peace and
direction from the bewildering conditions, the Bible Students began to splinter
into various groupings. One of these was the Pastoral Bible Institute,
publisher of this journal. The origins of this group are traced in the article
The Pastoral Bible Institute.
The past is
merely prologue. Where do we go from here? How we build upon our origins is
largely up to us. In the closing article of this series, the author looks at
the future and seeks to chart a direction for the Christian to follow.
As in the
regular issues of the magazine, we are including a Question Box feature.
Customarily Bible Students call themselves truth people or speak about being in
the truth. To many this sounds egotistical. This question is discussed in this
column.
With this
preview we submit the following articles for your consideration, and invite
your comments.
In The
Beginning
A Bible Study
’And they
continued steadfastly in the apostles’ doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking
of bread, and in prayers.’—Acts 2:42
A verse by
verse study in Ac 1
THERE are many
beginnings in the Bible. First, there is God who has no beginning. Then there
is the beginning of his creative work in the forming of the Logos. (Re 3:14 Joh
1:1) There is also the beginning of his work with planet earth in Ge 1:1. But
in the book of Acts we find another beginning, the beginning of the Christian
church.
Those were
confusing days. Memories were varied. There was elation at Jesus’ triumphal
entry into Jerusalem. Then there was perplexity when at the Last Supper he told
them again of his imminent death. Finally there was the despair with his
arrest, trial, and crucifixion.
Despondency
gave way to joy with news of his resurrection; but joy was mixed with
bewilderment, for their Master was not the same. He now appeared in locked
rooms, seemingly coming right through the wall. He disappeared just as
mysteriously. Those were confusing days.
——————————————————————
MANUSCRIPTS...
The basis for
today’s Bible. Of over 3000 extant, the following are judged the most
important.
Sinaitic —Fourth century; complete New Testament.
Alexandrian —Early fifth century; most New Testament
Vatican 1209 —Fourth century; Matthew to Heb 9:14.
Ephraemi —Late fourth century; Fragments of
Septuagint and of the New Testament.
Regius 62 —Eighth century; most of the Gospels.
Papyrus P45 —Third century; fragments of Gospels and
Acts.
Papyrus P46 —circa 200, most of Pauline Epistles.
Papyrus P47 —Third century, middle third of
Revelation
Papyrus P52 —ca. 125, Joh 8:31-33, 37, 38
Papyrus P66 —ca. 200; most of John
Papyrus P75 —Third century, most of Luke & John
——————————————————————
The Book of
Acts
Verses 1 and 2
The former
treatise have I made, O Theophilus, of all that Jesus began both to do and
teach, Until the day in which he was taken up, after that he through the Holy
Spirit had given commandments unto the apostles whom he had chosen:
Theophilus is
mentioned only here and in the opening verse of the Gospel of Luke, which
indicates that Luke is also the author of Acts. While Theophilus was
undoubtedly a real person, the meaning of his name, lover of God, is an
appropriate title for all for whom the book was written.
The title, Acts
of the Apostles, is somewhat vague and misleading, for it details the acts of
very few of the apostles—Peter and Paul being the main characters in the book.
Some authorities have named it, The Acts of the Holy Spirit or, relating it to
the Gospel of Luke, The Acts of Jesus Christ after his Resurrection.
Post-Resurrection
Appearances
Verse 3 to 5
To whom also
he shewed himself alive after his passion by many infallible proofs, being seen
of them forty days, and speaking of the things pertaining to the kingdom of
God: And, being assembled together with them, commanded them that they should
not depart from Jerusalem, but wait for the promise of the Father, which, saith
he, ye have heard of me. For John truly baptized with water; but ye shall be
baptized with the Holy Ghost not many days hence.
It is sad to
note that in three and a half years of intense ministry Jesus, a perfect man
with the most wonderful message of all time, had garnered a following of only
about 500 interested people. (1Co 15:6) Though these felt deserted at his
death, they were not, for he appeared miraculously to them eleven times.
The object of
these appearances and the mysterious ways in which they occurred was, as Luke
rightly puts it, to give them many infallible proofs that he had indeed risen
from the dead. While the gospel records give few details of any conversations,
we are here informed that Jesus’ message remained constant: speaking of the
things pertaining to the kingdom of God.
Now, as with
Moses of old when he ascended Mt. Sinai, they were to be given a lesson in
patience. They were not to leave Jerusalem but wait for the next event: the
promise of the Father. As his first advent was marked with the baptism of John,
so his new presence with them always... to the end of the age (Mt 28:20) would
be marked with the baptism of the holy Spirit. This was the baptism of which
John the Baptist prophesied: ‘I baptize you with water for repentance. But
after me will come one who is more powerful than I, whose sandals I am not fit
to carry. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and with fire’.( Mt 3:11
NIV)
When Will the
Kingdom Come?
Verses 6 to 8
When they
therefore were come together, they asked of him, saying, Lord, wilt thou at
this time restore again the kingdom to Israel? And he said unto them, It is not
for you to know the times or the seasons, which the Father hath put in his own
power. But ye shall receive power, after that the Holy Spirit is come upon you:
and ye shall be witnesses unto me both in Jerusalem, and in all Judaea, and in
Samaria, and unto the uttermost part of the earth.
It was only
natural that the disciples should ask the uppermost question in their
minds—When? When would the kingdom of which Jesus had taught them so much be
established? Not having yet been enlightened by the holy Spirit, they still had
visions of grandeur and the establishment of an earthly kingdom to replace Rome
and put Israel back into power.
The answer
Jesus gave differed somewhat from an earlier statement recorded in Mr 13:32:
‘But of that day and that hour knoweth no man, no, not the angels which are in
heaven, neither the Son, but the Father.’
This time Jesus
omits the words neither the Son, possibly because as a spirit being he now
possessed knowledge he had not been given earlier. In any event it is obvious
that the statement in Mark did not mean that the Son was never to know, for he
would obviously know at the time of his return.
He further
dispels their misconceptions by stating that instead of reigning they would
merely be his witnesses throughout all the earth. The word order he here uses
is no coincidence: (1) in Jerusalem and (2) in all Judea and (3) in Samaria and
(4) unto the uttermost parts of the earth.
The first
public witness message of the new church was indeed in Jerusalem, on the day of
Pentecost. From there their message spread naturally to the environs of the
city—Judea. Ensuing persecutions of the new religion forced the followers to
flee to the neighboring area of Samaria, (see Ac 8:1-5) where Philip was sent
to preach to them. Then, in an unusual sidelight, Philip is called away to Gaza
where he meets and converts the Ethiopian eunuch. (Ac 8:27-39) Ethiopia (Sheba
of the Old Testament) is called by Jesus the uttermost parts of the earth. (see
Mt 12:42 Lu 11:31)
The Ascension
Veres 9 to 11
And when he
had spoken these things, while they beheld, he was taken up; and a cloud
received him out of their sight. And while they looked steadfastly toward
heaven as he went up, behold, two men stood by them in white apparel; Which
also said, Ye men of Galilee, why stand ye gazing up into heaven? this same
Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall so come in like manner as
ye have seen him go into heaven..
One last time
their Master was in their midst. Now, just as they were finally becoming
accustomed to his unusual comings and goings, there is yet another surprise.
Instead of disappearing into thin air, he visibly ascends into the heavens; and
they are confronted by angels appearing in the guise of two men.
The angels
inform them that this is yet a new development. Their Lord would return, but
they are given no clue as to how long or where it would be. At first they
undoubtedly surmised that it would be in a few days as it had been during the
past few weeks. Then time lengthened and he still did not reappear. Some sixty
years later the finishing touches are put on the Bible by the Apostle John with
these concluding words, ‘Even so, come, Lord Jesus.’
In like
manner—few words in the Bible have been open to a wider range of interpretation
than these. Many theologians are of the opinion this means that as Jesus
disappeared in a visible form, so he would return visibly. This, however,
stretches the meaning of the Greek word tropos, here translated manner.
Translated in a
variety of ways, the word comes from a root meaning a turning or revolution.
The word is used as an adverb modifying the method of coming and not as an
adjective modifying the form in which he would return. Therefore the like
manner of his return apparently refers to the quiet manner of his
departure—unnoticed by the world at large, but seen only by his most intimate
followers who were watching for it. Just as a cloud hid him from the disciples,
so his return in or on a cloud indicates that his second advent is also
invisible.
Days of Waiting
Verses 12 to 14
Then
returned they unto Jerusalem from the mount called Olivet, which is from
Jerusalem a sabbath day’s journey. And when they were come in, they went up
into an upper room, where abode both Peter, and James, and John, and Andrew,
Philip, and Thomas, Bartholomew, and Matthew, James the son of Alphaeus, and
Simon Zelotes, and Judas the brother of James. These all continued with one
accord in prayer and supplication, with the women, and Mary the mother of
Jesus, and with his brethren.
Now they were
to have their test of patience. True to their Lord’s command, they abode in
Jerusalem, waiting for the fulfillment of the promised gift of the spirit.
Since Jesus was resurrected on a Sunday morning and was in their midst for the
40 days prior to his ascension, (Ac 1:3) that event must have taken place on a
Friday. We may assume that his ascension was late in the day, for the journey
back to Jerusalem is given as a sabbath day’s journey.
One of the
sabbath prohibitions dealt with travel. Originally the devout Jew was to stay
near enough to the Tabernacle so that he could worship on that day.’ See, for
that the LORD hath given you the sabbath, therefore he giveth you on the sixth
day the bread of two days; abide ye every man in his place, let no man go out
of his place on the seventh day’.( Ex 16:29)
Orthodox Jewry
reckoned this distance as being the space between the Tabernacle and the camp
of Israel—2,000 cubits, about 1,000 yards—based on Jos 3:4: ‘Yet there shall be
a space between you and it, about two thousand cubits by measure: come not near
unto it, that ye may know the way by which ye must go: for ye have not passed
this way heretofore’..( Jos 3:4)
The occupation
of the disciples (the eleven apostles plus some 109 others) during those
anxious days was prayer and supplication. How they must have identified with
Daniel of old who, while waiting, spent his days and nights in earnest prayer.
(Da 9:3-19)
The Death of
Judas Iscariot
Verses 15 to 19
And in those
days Peter stood up in the midst of the disciples, and said, (the number of
names together were about an hundred and twenty) Men and brethren, this
scripture must needs have been fulfilled, which the Holy Ghost by the mouth of
David spake before concerning Judas, which was guide to them that took Jesus.
For he was numbered with us, and had obtained part of this ministry. Now this
man purchased a field with the reward of iniquity; and falling headlong, he
burst asunder in the midst, and all his bowels gushed out. And it was known
unto all the dwellers at Jerusalem; insomuch as that field is called in their
proper tongue, Aceldama, that is to say, The field of blood.
Ever impetuous,
it was Peter whose impatience brought him to the well-meaning but incorrect act
of suggesting that perhaps the Lord was waiting for them to fill the vacancy in
the apostolic body caused by the suicide of Judas.
Peter suggested
choosing a replacement for Judas based, first of all, on the fact that he had
been numbered with them in their ministry.
Anatomy of a
Mistake
Verse 20
For it is
written in the book of Psalms, Let his habitation be desolate, and let no man
dwell therein: and his bishoprick let another take.
Credit must be
given to the small group for their studiousness in seeking the Lord’s will in
those days of uncertainty. As they meditated and studied they noted the
following words: ‘Set thou a wicked man over him: and let Satan stand at his
right hand. When he shall be judged, let him be condemned: and let his prayer
become sin. Let his days be few; and let another take his office’.( Ps 109:6-8)
Applying this wicked man to Judas Iscariot, Peter saw sound direction in his
replacement—let another take his office.
Wherefore of
these men which have companied with us all the time that the Lord Jesus went in
and out among us, Beginning from the baptism of John, unto that same day that
he was taken up from us, must one be ordained to be a witness with us of his
resurrection (vs. 21, 22).
Guidelines for
the selection of this new apostle were set up. He must be one who had both
witnessed Jesus’ death and resurrection and been a disciple all the time that
Jesus went in and out among them. Establishing these criteria they proceeded
with the selection process.
And they
appointed two, Joseph called Barsabas, who was surnamed Justus, and Matthias
(vs. 23).
The Lord was
not to be left out of the selection process. In a procedure reminiscent of that
by which the Lord’s goat was selected on their Day of Atonement, (Le 16:8) they
would narrow the choice down to two and leave the final decision to the Lord by
the casting of lots.
This method of
seeking the divine will may have had its origin in the ancient Hebrew custom of
seeking the Lord through the Urim and Thummim, (Ex 28:30) which were supposedly
two gems, one for yes and one for no, one of which would glow when exposed
before the Shekinah light, giving direction from Jehovah.
Little is known
of either Matthias or Joseph Barsabas. The latter may be one of the disciples
sent to accompany Paul and Barnabas with the edict of the Council of Jerusalem.
(Ac 15:22)
In any case
their error was not in omitting the Lord from the selection process but in
narrowing the Lord’s choices down to two of their own choosing and in rushing
the timing of the Lord’s decision. Eventually, as time has shown, God did make
his choice known—and it was neither Matthias nor Barsabas but Saul of Tarsus,
whom we know so well as Paul.
And they
prayed, and said, Thou, Lord, which knowest the hearts of all men, shew whether
of these two thou hast chosen, That he may take part of this ministry and
apostleship, from which Judas by transgression fell, that he might go to his
own place. And they gave forth their lots; and the lot fell upon Matthias; and
he was numbered with the eleven apostles (vs. 24-26).
The rest is
history. The lots were taken. Incorrectly assuming them to indicate the Lord’s
will, they chose Matthias as the replacement for Judas. No great harm came, for
both Matthias and Barsabas evidently acquitted themselves well in the Christian
ministry. Being well intentioned, the Lord apparently accepted their desire to
please him in the place of their wrong conclusions. How blessed we are that he
does the same in our often bumbling efforts to discern his will in our lives:
‘For if there be first a willing mind, it is accepted according to that a man
hath, and not according to that he hath not’.( 2Co 8:12)
Contending
for the Faith
Earnestly
contend for the faith which was once delivered unto the saints.—Jude 3
by James
Owczarski
Given
everything at stake in the matter, it is not too terribly surprising that most
of the world’s religions have wanted to see the finger of God in their history.
After all, discerning the presence of the divine in everyday life, especially
when the divinity appears to intervene on one’s own behalf, is much more than
the source for encouraging stories and other tales well told; it is,
ultimately, a sign or seal that a believer has chosen wisely and is treading a
path pleasing to the One he serves. This impetus has led well-intentioned people
of all faiths and persuasions to drag history hither and thither like an
unwilling dog on a short tether. Secular historians, with a mixture of disgust
and anger, have tended to respond by denying the infinite any place, or at
least any determinable place, in the human past—a denial which the more honest
among their number will concede is really based in large part on their own
atheism or agnosticism. Both extremes, it seems reasonable to argue, do God a
gross injustice. History is neither a tidy, monochromatic story of ‘us versus
them’ nor is it a Godless bundle of unconnected events. Christians, while never
letting slip the faith that set them free, can take a fair view of the past and
arrive at credible conclusions that do not marginalize their Creator. Doing so
is as much a part of the struggle to which Jude referred as any matter of
doctrine.
With all the
foregoing in mind, the present study considers four men who have been raised up
as among the greater in the history of the Church Militant: Arius, Peter Valdo
(more commonly Waldo), Martin Luther, and John Calvin. More particularly, it
concentrates on what are usually considered to be their greatest theological
contributions to the Church in their own time and how these contributions may
have been used to feed the flock of God.
Arius
Christianity is
rent into so many pieces that one rather suspects that only Jehovah himself
knows where all the tatters have gotten off to, much less how to fit them all
back together. Nonetheless, the vast majority of those describing themselves as
Christians heap nothing but abuse on Arius. Uniformly described in the standard
texts as a heretic, his heresy, about which more will be said presently, has
been violently abjured by both Pope and Protestant. The Nicene Creed of 325
A.D., drawn largely in response to his beliefs, has remained a standard
confession of faith for mainstream Christianity and a touchstone of fellowship
for those with ecumenical inclinations.
Despite all the
foregoing, precious little can be said about him with certainty. Born sometime
near the mid-point of the third century A.D., he did not come to prominence
until his more advanced years. Then, in about 319 in his native city of
Alexandria, his eloquent speeches on a variety of topics received sufficient
popular attention to elicit a complaint about him to the imperial court of
Constantine. Having only recently lifted the more onerous burdens associated
with being a Christian within his empire, the emperor seems to have cared
little for doctrinal dispute, but he was passionately concerned with good
order. Arius, therefore, was more a political difficulty than a theological one
as evidenced by Constantine’s dispatching St. Hosius in an ultimately vain
attempt to patch things up. When he learned of the failure of Hosius’ mission,
his next response was to summon one of the great early councils of the church,
that at Nicaea in 325 A.D. From the beginning, it is entirely probable that
Constantine was not too worried about what the Council ultimately decided, so
long as it was something comprehensible and enforceable.
As the mind’s
eye travels backwards to the crowded seats assembled around the throne
imperial, the greatest difficulty in assessing what took place at Nicaea is a
fundamental uncertainty about just what Arius believed. Only two works, both
brief letters, can be ascribed directly to his hand. His Thaleia or ‘banquet,’
a collection of doctrine-laden songs sung to the tunes of naughty sea-chanteys,
has vanished save as excerpted by his arch-rival Bishop Athanasius. The Council
itself ordered his works destroyed and it is therefore little wonder that so
little is known about his doctrine. In any event, the responses to his beliefs
seem to indicate that he held for a form of subordinationism, that is, the Son
or logos is in some respect less than the Father. This was not a new view
within the Church and it could take on many forms; latter-day ‘Arians’ would
find themselves profoundly uncomfortable with some of them. Jesus, after all,
had stirred so many messianic hopes in the faithful—hopes that were not to be
formally quashed by the church until the fourth century—that few had bothered
to define with any precision who he was while on earth and who (or what) he was
since the Ascension. When authors began to pose these questions, it became
quickly plain that even completely orthodox thinkers were not of one mind on
the matter and Arius’ experiences demonstrate that the notion of Jesus Christ
as ‘very God from very God’ was anything but the accepted formula of his age.
On the other
hand, it will not do to make Arius the harbinger of the Good News that Jesus
Christ was the angelic logos made flesh. He may have so believed, and many of
the Germanic tribesmen who were converted to Christianity by Arian missionaries
in later years certainly found something congenial in the notion of a heroic
spirit coming to rescue men from demonic captivity; but there is a certain
subtlety in his beliefs, what can be ascertained of them, that suggests he
would have ultimately recoiled at such a flat statement of difference between
the nature of God and that of his Son, smacking as it might of a sort of
bi-theism. Further, such a view is difficult to reconcile with his attempts at
reconciliation with the Roman Church, attempts that failed just short of
actually receiving Communion in Constantinople from his former enemies.
Still, by the
time of Arius’ death in about 336, the Roman Church was well on its way to
clearing away the tangled thatch of dissent that had surrounded the question of
who Christ was and in so doing embraced the at-best obliquely scriptural notion
of a trinity amongst the divine persons. While Arian Christianity persisted
until at least the seventh century among several of the Germanic tribes that hastened
the fall of the Roman Empire, his views were not those of the church’s future.
Peter Valdo
Unlike that of
Arius, the history of Peter Valdo has been as much hidden by his friends as his
enemies. Ever since the Reformers of the sixteenth century lit upon a seemingly
ancient group of kindred spirits in the North Italian region of Savoy, the Waldensians
(French Vaudois) have been used by various groups as evidence of the
persistence of the true spirit of the Gospel throughout the ‘dark times’ of the
Middle Ages. The Genevan reformer Beza, among others, thought their community
to have been founded by the Apostle Paul on his semi-legendary journey to
Spain. Others, with the same general purpose in mind, found their origins in
the very earliest apostasy of the Bishop of Rome in the third or fourth
century, arguing that they fled the corruption that was creeping into the
Church. It makes matters no better, from a historical point of view, that the
very name ‘Waldensian’ became attached by the official church to any number of
heretical sects that were then subjected to persecution. Even worse, some chroniclers
and later authors confused the followers of Valdo with the Albigensian perfecti
who made trouble for both the Pope of Rome and the King of France through much
of the High Middle Ages but were radically different from the Waldensians in
both doctrine and form of life.
The earliest
source to which any credibility can be attached is an anonymous chronicler who
clearly thought little of Valdo and his followers. Nonetheless, he reports,
with a certain impartiality, that, near the close of the twelfth century,
Valdo—originally a rich merchant of Lyons, France—upon hearing the words of Mt
19:21 sold all his worldly possessions, dispersed his wealth to the poor, and
adopted the life of a mendicant or ‘begging’ preacher. He soon acquired a
sizeable following and set up a series of small communities on the French side
of the Alps, communities that were eventually to be as wide-spread as Spain and
Bohemia.
In his life and
preaching there is a fair similarity between Valdo and his near-contemporary
St. Francis of Assisi. Both railed against the wealth and splendor held by a
church established by the son of a wood-worker and a group of fishermen. They
both urged the church to be more mindful of the least of God’s sheep and both,
for these and other reasons, ran afoul of church authority. Francis, in a
little-known footnote to history, came within an ace of excommunication for his
insistence on clerical poverty while Valdo, after appealing to the third
Lateran Council of 1179 for official recognition as a monastic order, was
placed under papal ban by Lucius III in 1184.
From that point
forward, it seems, Valdo and the Waldensians’ circumstances were driven by
their heretical status. More than once the church preached both ban and crusade
against the scattered groups of what came to be known as the ‘poor men of
Lyon.’ Moreover, Valdo, who died in Bohemia in 1217, began to radicalize in
both doctrine and tone. His communities shaped themselves around a
‘form-of-life’ program of his drafting and appointed a new order clergy to meet
their sacramental needs. Perhaps more than anything else, however, he is known
in Christian circles for undertaking the translation of the Latin Vulgate Bible
into his native Provencal. While no scholarly treatment of the text (the
defects in the Vulgate alone would see to that), Valdo’s translation must be
seen as part of his largely anti-clerical program and his desire to see the
Church return to a better time before it was afflicted with what English
Puritans were to call the ‘raiment of popery.’ With moveable type still almost
three centuries distant, however, the impact of this translation was of
necessity limited. Nonetheless, for those that cherish the ministry of the word
and desire the Psalms on the lips of every plowman, Valdo’s will always be a
special place in the past.
Martin Luther
If about Arius
and Valdo too little is known, it is entirely possible that modern historians
have said altogether too much about Martin Luther. In dissecting his life,
historians have looked on this copper miner’s son as the founder of a new
faith, the father of modern child-rearing, the great lexicographer of the
German language, a liberator of women, the inspiration for the work of artists
like Gruenewald and Duere, and even the distant intellectual ancestor of German
anti-semitism and fascism. Whether any of these notions be true or not, they
are utterly valueless hunks of stuff spinning through void-space if denied
their centrifuge: Luther’s views of salvation, particularly justification by
faith. It would be the crudest sort of arrogance to even suggest that in the
space herein allowed one could encompass the mind-numbing mass of material that
has been generated, in Luther’s time and since, on this subject. What follows,
then, with deepest apologies, is as close to a standard account as can be
gleaned from the literature and then synthesized for the general reader.
Even those who
dissent from a psychoanalytical approach to Luther’s theology acknowledge the
importance of father figures in his life. His natural father deeply disapproved
of young Martin’s decision not to pursue a degree in law but instead to enter a
monastery on a quest to make himself right with God. Once inside the fellowship
of the Augustinian Canons, however, there was another Father who seemed far
more terrible to his young conscience. Through fasting, prayer, sleepless
nights, incessant confession, and even self-flagellation, Young Man Luther
sought a near-magical combination of works that would allow him to stand before
Jehovah as anything other than a damned penitent. As he sought and struggled,
historians are agreed that, while lecturing on the scriptures at the relatively
new University of Wittenberg, he gradually began to watch the accretions of
medieval credulity fall away from a golden kernel of grace that was the
sacrifice of Jesus Christ. In a way, he had stumbled on Medieval Christianity’s
most carefully-kept secret, that none of the acts, works, or monuments
fashioned by the hands of men could achieve a sinning soul’s salvation and, in
fact, even the Roman Church’s own best minds had always marginalized these
works in favor of grace. As external signs, however, as tangible objects for a
large uneducated populace, these works were far too easily held forth as the
centuries wore on as the real goals of human existence or at least the sure
route to the salvation they represented. In them, Luther came to see only lies
and deceptions, gaudy baubles that hid the simplicity and grandeur of
salvation.
It was
therefore that in the fall of 1517, when a Dominican by the name of Tetzel came
to Wittenberg to sell indulgences, Luther posted his Ninety-Five Theses for
disputation on the door of the city’s cathedral. Historians have said again and
again that there was nothing unique in this act. As a university professor
Luther was all but obligated to hold such disputations from time to time; but,
unlike so many modern academics, he put something of himself into the deed.
When Pope Leo X first heard of the micro-furor the challenge to debate caused,
he is said to have offered a quip to the effect that this was just another case
of monks bickering among themselves; but, within only a few years, Luther was
excommunicated and Western Christianity was broken to shivers. Everything that
followed, the final rift with Rome, the radicalization of his views on the pope
as antichrist, the emergence of a strain of German nationalism in the urban
centers of the Reform, the Peasants’ Revolt of 1525, and all else is ultimately
effect and not cause. Once Luther knew that salvation was by faith alone, he
was willing to let heaven and earth fall beside. This belief led him to cast
aside the Epistle of James as one ‘out of straw’ because of its emphasis on
works. It drove him to reject the value of even good works by those who have
not achieved salvation because they tend to lead those who perform them to
unwarranted pride. It tended Luther toward strong predestinarian views for, if
man is utterly unworthy and in fact incapable of his own salvation, on what basis
is he selected for grace save on the impenetrable decision of his Creator?
Luther never did grapple fully with the ramifications of this last consequence
of his views on justification. His world, his views, were usually framed as
rhetoric, even polemic, allowing him to dodge the bullet fired by them squarely
at the heart of human free will and its relationship to salvation. John Calvin,
on the other hand, never flinched for a moment.
John Calvin
A lawyer by
vocation, Calvin remained throughout his life an avocational theologian. Known
best as the man who reformed the Swiss city of Geneva during the 1530s, the
systematic, analytic methods of the law never left him; and his Institutes of
the Christian Religion remains as one of the hallmarks of Protestant thought.
Initially a student of Luther’s writings, Calvin is usually viewed as a dour,
double-blind predestinarian who thought of men as puppets in a cheap show run
by, at best, an uncaring God. What Calvin really did, however, in his
Institutes and elsewhere, was hatch the egg Luther laid. For him, if
justification is by faith alone, then, as was the case for Luther, there can be
no other basis for the selection of the elect than decisions in the mind of
God. If grace is a free gift there is no salvation save by grace—yet scripture
tells us there will be those who do not receive either grace or salvation—then,
again, it is God who alone has numbered the elect.
For some, this
is a troubling notion, disabling human will and volition, but for Calvin it was
a source of infinite consolation. After all, he argued, if God had to depend on
fallen, wretched creatures such as men to fulfill His plans, what assurance
could there be of His ultimate success? Further, he first peered inside himself
and, seeing nothing of worth, he then turned to heaven and asked what hope he
could have of achieving salvation in his wretched state and therefore how
Christ could dare to speak as the hope of human kind. His answer was that the
Father had before the foundation of the world chosen the elect, and their
salvation, through the gift of Christ Jesus, was certain. The thin, dry,
often-acerbic Calvin will likely never be remembered as an urbane spirit that
had one of the finest wine cellars in Geneva, loved music, and cared passionately
about the care of the poor. As students of his doctrine know, though, his
thinly-haired head slept sure of his salvation to a degree that it is sometimes
difficult for the modern mind to comprehend.
These are not
the only men of faith that have ministered unto the Church. Christ swore that
he would neither leave nor forsake his followers, and the clear testament of
what is now nearly two millennia of time is that he has kept his holy word.
From both within and without the established church, God has often enough
raised up servants of his word and, it seems reasonable to suppose, will
continue to do so as circumstances warrant. Praised be His Name that, so far,
He has not found it necessary to call upon the stones to bear His son witness,
nor be praised by the very rocks should He need to give them utterance.
The Decline
Of Faith
’When the Son
of Man cometh, shall He find faith on the earth?’—Luke 18:8
By Carl
Hagensick
LIKE a mountain
stream forking into two main branches, the flood waters of truth released by
the Great Reformation split into two basic lines of thought.
With the Bible
unchained from the pulpit and the concept of ‘the priesthood of all believers’
encouraging Christians to interpret the Word of God themselves, religious
Protestantism divided into multitudinous sects. Within two decades of the Peace
Treaty of Westphalia (1648) ending the Thirty Years War and bringing to an
effective close the Reformation, Lutheranism fell into a state of sterile
intellectual orthodoxy. The efforts of the Pietist movement under Philip Jakob
Spener and August Francke revitalized individual Bible study and personal
application of Christian principles in every situation of life.
Humanism
Simultaneously
the exposure of the evils of feudalism gave rise to a secular philosophy that
was known as humanism. By the middle of the 18th century, Jean Jacques Rousseau
identified an agenda for the humanists with his notable work, The Social
Contract. Working side by side with the noted deist Voltaire, and
influencing the writings of Carlyle, Hume and Paine, the humanists challenged
the authority of government, church, and the new class of capitalist overlords
with religious philosophies of justice and equality. Their writings spawned
first the American Revolution and subsequently the French Revolution and
similar revolts throughout the former Holy Roman Empire. Hereditary ruling
houses began to topple. The pulpit no longer held its dictatorial authority. A
cry for equal rights—a veritable trumpet of jubilee—was heard throughout the
world. Labor unions began to spread as in reaction to the new oppressions of
the Industrial Revolution.
These two
streams of thought—one based on interpretational dogmatism and the other on a
broad social contract—divided the Protestant church into two irreconcilable
camps.
Early attempts
to stem the tide of humanism, such as the Great Awakening from 1720 to 1750
with such powerful voices as Jonathan Edwards in America and the parallel
activity of John Wesley in England sufficed only as short term stopgaps. The
founding fathers of the United States, men like Thomas Jefferson and Benjamin
Franklin, represented the humanist line of reasoning or, at best, a deism which
admitted to God creating the world but then perceiving him as leaving his
creation, like a broken watch, to repair itself.
——————————————————————
Reform and
Reformation
THE differences
between the Lutheran Reformation and the opposing Calvinist Reform were marked.
The Reformation stressed that Jesus Christ died for every man; Cal claimed he
died only for the elect. Luther taught that the dead were unconscious until the
resurrection. The Reform said that all souls are immortal and most were predestined
to an eternity of torture. Luther permitted infant baptism, Calvin did not. But
all Protestants agreed on three things: The Bible is the only standard of faith
and truth; justification is by faith in the blood of Jesus Christ; and the
Antichrist of Daniel and the New Testament was real and present, with Rome as
its capital.
——————————————————————
Christianity
Rides A Roller Coaster
A poll taken of
the students at Harvard University in the last decade of the eighteenth century
found not one student admitting to a Bible believing faith. But by 1809 the
tables dramatically turned, with over half the students claiming biblical
faith. Decreasing once again to a low ebb in the eighteen thirties, belief in
the Scriptures rebounded to a remarkable 75% among students in the seventies.
Such resurgence of belief was largely due to revivalists such as Dwight L.
Moody.
The impact of
the great revivalists gave strong impetus to a world-wide missionary work with
the slogan of ‘Winning the world for Christ in our lifetime.’ The revival of
Bible believers also gave rise to systematic scholarship, developing strong
research tools such as concordances and verse-by-verse scriptural commentaries.
Liberalism
In the meantime
other religionists, tired of denominational feuding and unable to accept the
superstitious creeds of the Dark Ages, found an outlet in a new scheme of biblical
interpretation. Using such devices as form and style criticism, these Higher
Critics denied the literal accuracy of the Scriptures, professing the Bible to
be a book of high moral principles and mythical allegories.
A growing
technological explosion bred a formal educational structure where students were
taught to challenge the assumptions of the past and to question all previous
premises.
Charles
Darwin’s Origin of the Species introduced the theory of human evolution,
raising fresh challenges to the biblical account of man’s creation, fall, and
final destiny.
As knowledge
and travel increased, the world seemed smaller and the customs of primitive
cultures became more known to the so-called civilized world. The nobility of
some of these cultures and the contrasting hypocrisy of many in Christendom yet
another philosophy came into being—Existentialism. This line of thought held
that there is no absolute truth; what is true for one person may not be true
for another.
Adventism
The Miller
movement and the development of Adventism, still another development of the
19th century, created great zeal for prophetic study on the one hand while at
the same time placing it under a shadow of suspicion, because of the pronounced
failure of repetitive dates to produce the predicted results. This movement is
examined in greater depth in this issue in an article entitled The Midnight
Cry.
Into this
potpourri of conflicting religious winds, the Bible Student movement raised its
head in the late 1870’s. Charles Taze Russell, its founder, found himself
challenged by the tides around him. Briefly an agnostic himself, he understood
both the forces of social inequity and the reaction to a superstitious creedal
past; he saw how they naturally produced humanistic reasoning leading to
socialism and communism. Attracted by the logic and prophetic vision of
Adventism, he was at the same time repelled by the dismal future of a burning
earth, which had been conjured up as the Millennium of the Bible.
Unable to sort
out the confusing Babel of sounds which he was hearing in the religious world,
he found it necessary to start from scratch. Striving to leave behind all his
pre-conceived ideas, he embarked on a personal Bible study program that led to
conclusions which substantially differed from most of his co-religionists.
The
Cornerstones of Faith
The
cornerstones of the Plan of God which Pastor Russell saw outlined on the pages
of the Bible included:
* SALVATION FOR ALL:
The simplicity of substitutionary atonement—the perfect human life of Jesus for
the perfect human life of Adam and his race—showed him a hope for both the
saved and the unsaved of the present time. If Christ died for all, then should
not all benefit from it?
He perceived
two aspects of salvation, one heavenly for the footstep followers of Christ,
and one earthly for all others. This
concept of a kingdom teaching men the laws of righteousness answered for him
the age-old question, Why would a God of love permit evil? He saw that the evil
of the present life was to be a contrasting experience with the good that men
would experience in God’s kingdom and thus serve as an everlasting object
lesson in the benefits of righteous living.
* A
GOD OF LOVE: His vision of a
God who had a plan for all men led him to reject the creeds of more
superstitious times, which envisioned a God of torture. Noting that the Bible
held out immortality as a goal to be striven for, (Ro 2:7) he perceived that,
as the Scriptures stated, ‘the dead know not anything.’ The concept of inherent
immortality conflicted with the biblical teaching of the resurrection of the
dead. The hope of man is not in denying the reality of death but in the belief
of the resurrection of the dead.
* THE SECOND ADVENT:
His contacts with Adventism and the Miller movement proved to his satisfaction
that the return of Christ was to be expected invisibly and unnoticed by men.
Being convicted of the accuracy of the chronology developed by Christopher Bowen,
and later published in 1851 in Horae Apocalypticae by E. B. Elliott, he
believed that the Lord’s return could be dated to 1874.
* PRE-MILLENNIALISM:
Again the Adventist arguments for Christ’s return before the Millennium were
convincing to Russell, and therefore he felt there was no need to convert the
world prior to the second advent. This strengthened his interpretation that the
great commission of Mt 20:28 was to be as a witness and not for the purpose of
world conversion.
* END OF THE WORLD:
The intense interest in prophetic matters that was characteristic of the late
19th century also affected Russell’s theology. His insight into scriptural
prophecy was broadened, however, by his knowledge as a well-established
businessman of the workings of economics. Therefore his reasoning on the manner
in which end-time prophecy would be fulfilled often paralleled those of the
socially-conscious humanists and political reformers, even including Karl Marx.
However, his vision of the future went far beyond that of the humanists; for,
while foreseeing the coming of godless communism he also predicted a further
step beyond that in the search for equality—the Kingdom of God.
We will not
here discuss the manner in which the new Bible Student movement reacted to the
Christian community around it. That is the subject of a subsequent article in
this issue, In the Time of Harvest.
Summary
It was thus
that these two broad streams of humanism and Protestant denominationalism,
diverse as they were, contributed to the removal of a unified faith in the
Bible’s message. It was thus, also, that the vision which Charles Taze Russell
had of God’s Divine Plan of the Ages was designed to restore just such a
unified belief to those whose faith could accept it.
The Midnight
Cry
But at midnight
there was a cry, ‘Behold, the bridegroom! Come out to meet him.’—Matthew 25:6
By Charles Ryba
CHRISTIAN
history can be a profitable study. The views and experiences of those preceding
us provide lessons for our profit. Two significant examples are the advent
movement (1830-1870) and the early Bible Student movement (1870-1890). Most of
our questions today have their roots in these times. How long until the kingdom
comes is foremost among them. Time is the issue. The kingdom of God is the
goal.
Intense
scriptural searching and examination were the mark of many individuals within
this time frame. Second advent speculations generated new Christian fellowships
crossing old denominational lines. This precipitated new movements not dominated
by trained theologians, though many came from the ranks of mainline Protestant
ministers. ‘Laymen’ became capable of intelligent inquiry as biblical
scholarship became more accessible through Bible societies and missionary
efforts. Circumstances in that era shaped theological currents and millennial
expectations. The signs of the times were being noticed. (See Redeemer Nation,
E.L. Tuveson, [1968]; When Time Shall Be No More, Paul Boyer, [1992]; The Rise
of Adventism, E. S. Gaustad, ed, [1974]; and The Prophetic Faith of our
Fathers, L. E. Froom, vols. 3 and 4 [1946, 1954].
William Miller
William Miller
became one of the lightning rods for much intense prophetic interest in America
during the 1830’s. His message was simple. The return of Christ was very near.
He even assigned a date, 1843, as the time when it would happen. Then current
events brought new focus to biblical prophecies. Items of note included
Daniel’s time of the end, the Antichrist, Palestine (Ottoman rule would fail,
Jewish restoration was imminent), but specially the personal, visible coming of
Christ to establish an earthly Millennial kingdom. The prophecies of Daniel and
Revelation were distinctively favored.
William Miller
was a Baptist preacher, but his message went well beyond that. He utilized
Daniel and Revelation as keys to the Bible’s prophetic outline. His arguments
for Christ’s return focus largely on the time of his return; the manner and
object were visible and awesome. Time elements that Miller considered biblical
encompass the days of Daniel (1260, 1290, 1335 and 2300), the Times of the
Gentiles, the Jubilee cycles, and the 6000 years of human history. He reckoned
them (except the 1260 at 1793-98) to a terminus of 1843.
Historic
Prophetic Interpretations
The historic
interpretive school of Daniel and Revelation was widespread among European and
American scholars of that era. Building upon the earlier works of Sir Isaac
Newton and Thomas Newton, persons like J. A. Brown, William Cunningham, T. R.
Birks, John Cumming, and E. B. Elliott were prominent exponents of a
historically fulfilled Apocalypse. In spite of impressive biblical arguments,
most Christian leadership at the time believed the second coming to be
post-Millennial, that is, after the gospel age of world conversion. Many agreed
with the historical general time interpretation, they differed only on when and
what the Millennium or the second advent would be like.
The Futurist
view originated by a Jesuit priest, F. Ribera [ca 1590], was hardly mentioned
by serious prophetic students of the time. With this view, placing most of the
book of Revelation (after 6:11) into a future seven-year tribulation period,
many insurmountable problems were recognizable. These anticipated the present
day quarrels among Futurists, pre, mid-, and post-tribulationists. Birk’s
volumes titled First Elements of Prophecy and Visions of Daniel are pointed
essays in defense of the historical school approach. These writings, among many
others, provided vital resources for the early advent believers of the 1840’s
as well as renewed growth among later Advent Christian believers in time
prophecy. Nelson H. Barbour described examining these in European libraries
during the 1860’s.
Unfortunately,
historic pre-Millennial positions were often abandoned during the mid 1800’s.
Competing theories swept most Christians into conflicting winds of futurism and
preterism (fully past views, also of Jesuit origin.)
Wide ranging
discussions about prophecy in general, and the second coming in particular,
took place within Millerite camps and with contemporaries. It encompassed
journals, conferences, camp meetings, books, pamphlets, speaking tours, and
debates. Miller himself devoted years to public speaking on the advent to
whoever would listen. Many others joined in. Of note are Joshua V. Himes,
Charles Fitch, Josiah Litch, Joseph Bates, and George Storrs. Advent journals
included The Signs of the Times, The Bible Examiner, and The Midnight Cry among
many others. Use of charts to illustrate God’s prophetic plan was noteworthy.
Based on Hab 2:2, they endeavored to make the vision plain. Tabernacle and
temple symbolism was prominent, especially in connection with the vision of the
2300 days in Da 8. Christ as antitypical high priest would return soon to
cleanse and restore his spiritual temple. Much of later Seventh Day Adventist
revisions was based on this imagery.
Henry Grew
wrote booklets concerning the nature of man. That, in turn, spurred George
Storrs to spread the view more widely. Grew also wrote The Divine Testimony
Concerning The Son of God, delineating a Christology later adopted by Charles
Russell and others. Of special interest are thoughts concerning the nature of
God, the nature of man, and eternal torment. George Storrs was one of Miller’s
able supporters. Through the vehicle of his book and journal (of the same name)
The Bible Examiner, compiled essays known as Six Sermons on the Inquiry: Is
There Immortality in Sin and Suffering?, and in numerous other booklets and
tracts he injected among Adventists a strong argument for conditional
immortality. Miller himself did not accept these ideas but tolerated them for
the greater good of awakening the people to the near advent and judgment.
Second Advent
Focus
The greatest
focus of the advent movement was the nearness of Christ’s return. All else in
life was to be left behind in preparation for the bridegroom’s return. In the
period of about 1840 to 1844 the advent interest greatly increased throughout
the northeastern, mid- Atlantic, and mid-western states. It never took root in
Europe. But the original 1843 date provided a first shock to the
hopeful—nothing happened.
Re-examination
twice led to six month adjustments, culminating in the Seventh Month Movement
of 1844, spearheaded by Samuel S. Snow. His conviction was based on the high
priest (Christ) in the day of atonement picture. He interpreted the leaving of
the temple to bless the people as corresponding to Christ’s second coming. This
was to be on the tenth day of the seventh month, October 22, 1844.
Correspondence to the ‘proper’ figuring of the Jewish year justified altering
the earlier 1843 view. He revived the faint-hearted advent movement in the
spirit of the wise virgins of Mt 25. Miller himself was reticent to accept this
after the earlier disappointment, but joined in as the time approached.
Disappointments
Again there was
great puzzlement and disappointment. Explanations based on the parable of the
Wise and Foolish Virgins sought to rationalize the mistakes. The time of delay
of the parable was compressed into the first (1843) and repeated (1844)
experience of the watchers. Search for fulfillment led to spiritualization or
collective prophetic tests. Was the door shut? The controversy would flare at
every date since. In 1844 and 1878-81, 1914, and beyond. Several times many
would regard themselves as true heirs to the dates: 1844 (Seventh Day
Adventists and the ‘cleansed sanctuary’), 1873-1874 (N. H. Barbour and Charles
Russell, with the view of Christ’s invisible presence), and 1914 (Bible
Students and Jehovah’s Witnesses divergent claims as to what really happened).
After each date, prophecy had to be reconciled with reality.
The Aftermath
of Disappointment
Following the
1843-1844 disappointments, Storrs continued to preach the advent without dates.
He drifted into an extreme position during the 1860’s with the group known as
Life and Advent Union. It was analogous to the unsaved non-resurrection
position of Christadelphians. In later autobiographical sketches he recounts
his encounter with books of the English writer Henry Dunn about the ransom
doctrine and the restitution of all things. One book was titled The Destiny
of the Human Race. He then reactivated The Bible Examiner in 1871 (after a
lapse of about eight years) and reworked it to incorporate the thoughts of the
ransom for all and restitution of all things. The masthead verse was 1Ti 2:5,6.
His conclusion: the plan of God extended beyond the few faithful to the entire
human race. The Abrahamic promise applied to all men during a soon-to-come
earthly kingdom. The general concept of God having a plan was popular among
contemporary Advent Christian writers like I. C. Wellcome and Clarkson Gould in
their The Plan of Redemption of 1867. But Storrs incorporated much more of the
‘wider hope’ than they would allow. On the other hand he avoided the modernism
and speculation rampant among Universalists in their great social tolerances.
God provided reasonable provision for mankind’s recovery, unlike Universalism’s
unconditional salvation.
Parallel
Movements
Parallel
movements also arose during this period. Relatively mainstream Protestant
dispensationalists were inspired by men like John Darby and Edward Irving. They
restructured prophetic timetables into futurist patterns. In the long run they
would become more influential than the Adventists in the minds of most
Protestants. More diverse movements like the Christadelphians and Church of God
(Abrahamic Faith) sprung out of a common pool with those of Alexander
Campbell’s Disciples of Christ. Their earthly millennial hope was more distinct
than that of many Adventists. They placed less emphasis on date setting
(although 1866 was of significance to some) and tended to have ‘closed’
fellowships, believed in water baptism for salvation, believed in conditional immortality,
and developed non-trinitarian theologies (the last two concepts traceable to F.
Socinus of the 16th/17th century Polish Brethren). They shared with Campbell a
prophetic remnant assumption for the recovery of lost early church teachings.
Benjamin Wilson, author of The Emphatic Diaglott, was a member of the
Church of God (Abrahamic Faith). The remnant concept was shared by Charles
Russell and N. H. Barbour, who may have been influenced by their perspectives
in their thoughts concerning the gospel age harvest.
Seventh Day
Adventists
The largest
prophetically based movement was of course the Seventh-day Adventists. Having a
common derivative in Miller, they had solidified their thinking along much more
exclusive lines than other advent groups. A novel doctrine of an 1844 heavenly
cleansing of the sanctuary was fostered by reliance on the prophetic ‘gift of
prophecy’ claimed for Ellen G. White. Sabbath keeping became an outward
distinction which shaped much of their views on prophetic events. Their prophetic
point however was a novel concept of the millennial reign of Christ. It was to
be in heaven while the earth lay desolate, earth being restored after 1000
years. No hope was held out for the unsaved of this or previous ages, so their
view of restitution was narrowed to match that of prophetic Babylon from which
they had separated. Only Christians would be saved. The same can be said for
their trinitarian position, after some debate within their ranks.
The general
historic prophetic interpretation was bolstered in several important areas
during the interim of 1840 through the 1870’s. The Ottoman empire was in
decline, fueling expectations about a Jewish restoration. The Papacy was also
losing ground in its temporal power, reinforcing the view that Daniel’s time of
the end had indeed been entered. The American Civil War of the 1860’s also
focused people’s attention on the fragility of earthly governments as well as
on the need for true, but unattainable, justice for all peoples. These were the
signs of the times that influenced the interpretations of Adventists like N. H.
Barbour.
Charles Taze
Russell
Charles T. Russell was not alone at the beginning. He had the able help of several seasoned elder Christian brothers to shape the nascent Bible Student movement. They were reaping the fruits of those before them. George Storrs’ Bible Examiner would soon cease publication at his death in 1880. Charles Russell contributed a few short items as early as 1877 to those pages. The mature Nelson H. Barbour and John H. Paton were early collaborators in sorting through the prophetic charts. Barbour’s Herald of the Morning (Paton and Russell