I really enjoy getting together for coffee and conversation with my new friend Buff Scott Jr. Last week Buff mentioned W. Carl Ketcherside and I promised to look him up. I found this written about him.
Few individuals among Churches of Christ in the 20th century were as well-known as W. Carl Ketcherside (1908-1989). He described his journey as that of a piece-maker who became a peacemaker. He was for many a champion for the recovery of a lost unity amid a divided fellowship; for others, his voice represented a dangerous departure from historic restorationism if not biblical teaching.
I found a pdf of his book In The Beginning written in 1957. I would encourage you to read this (pdf at the end). You can read an excerpt of his book here. The second half of his book is dedicated to explaining what true fellowship is. This is so incredibly important if we want to get relational fellowships right. I wanted to do more than a book review and wanted to honor his life in some small way. People like this shouldn’t be forgotten. The excerpt below is from the first chapter of his book.
In the Beginning is not just another book about creation. It does not deal with the primal order of things. Rather, it is about the beginning of a new approach to the vexing problem of sectarianism in our day. It was an approach made by one who had long been steeped in the sectarian spirit without realizing it. It represents some of the things said and done in order to discover freedom in Christ and to stand clear of all that opposed such freedom. It is not by any means the last word in such a struggle. It is possible there will be no last word on earth.
The articles appearing herein were all written about 1957. Some of them were sent forth in fear and trembling. “I was with you in weakness and in much fear and trembling” (1 Cor. 2:3). Some were delivered orally. There has been no intent to be slavishly wedded to them as they originally appeared. Changes have been made in their construction. They have been altered and amended to better convey the idea originally hoped to achieve. The only thing that can be said about them is that they represent an honest attempt to find and recommend a better way than the one previously known.
There is probably nothing more traumatic than for one who has been shut up as a sectarian to be delivered by the grace of God and the power of the Holy Spirit. It is as if an earthquake had occurred which leveled the prison and left one standing in the midst of the wreckage unharmed and unhurt. All that had ever furnished security and protection is now gone, swept aside by the elements. There is no retreat to be found, no shadow in which to hide. All of the subtle little hypocrisies of the past, the caviling and the accommodations are gone. There is no place to flee except to Christ.
It is very difficult to confess that one has been in error much of his life. All past training is opposed to such a confession. It stifles pride. It runs counter to the ego. There is the question of those one has taught. His fellow-prisoners resent his admission. There is the problem of the congregations he has planted. Many of them would rather continue where they are than to acknowledge they have been mistaken. They prefer to embrace the errors with which they are familiar than the truth that is new.
There is the tendency to dart furtive glances in this direction or that, seeking some solution which will allow one to hold on to his own prestige. There is the frantic search for an escape. But none of these can avail. It is only when one admits that he is wrong, and has been wrong all of his life, that he can shed the past as a snake divests himself of his old skin, and be ready to move on to new heights. In the final analysis it is the best thing to do. One does not want to be forever trapped by his own past.
I began in the Missouri Synod Lutheran Church. It was a venerable institution with a stately ritual. Gathered about it were all of the grand teachings of the Monk of Erfurt. Not the least of its history was the tacking of the Ninety-Five Theses on the church door at Wittenberg. I entered it by inheritance. My grandparents were from Denmark and Schlesweig-Holstein. Like thousands of others they brought their religion with them. It was one of form and not of substance. They knew but little about it and nothing of its origin.
But they bitterly resented any attempt to merge with the social order around them. They kept their manners, customs, and language. They expected all to conform to them. My grandmother even kept her old-world form of dress as far as possible. They resented all change with a deep hostility. They were old-order. When I was sprinkled by the Rev. Mr. Peterson I was really inducted into a way of life, more than into a church.
I left the Lutheran Church shortly before I was twelve. In spite of the tenderness of my years the plea that one could be a Christian and Christian only, without being some special kind of a Christian, gripped my heart and provided a certain kind of exultation. It was genuine and now almost sixty years afterwards, I remember how the Spirit strove with me. I recall the deep inward sense of gloom which was mine and the ineffable joy which came when I surrendered to His claim upon my life. I was immersed in a clear creek which wound its way through the pasture, and knew that I was forgiven for the childish sins I had committed.
It was only after I had been preaching the good news for a number of years that I awakened to the fact that I had not been a Christian only, but a partisan. I was actually a Church of Christ Christian. Although it came as quite a shock to find it out, I did not feel betrayed or frustrated. I realized it was a natural development. But I began from that moment on to recognize that the body of Christ was greater than any movement within it. The community of the reconciled was not limited to a movement which began arrogating to itself the name “Church of Christ” but embraced every saved person on the face of the earth. I was helped by a crisis experience in North Ireland in which I was brought face to face with Jesus. If I had never left the United States, or if it had never happened, I would no doubt be today exactly where I was. God forbid.
From 1951 to 1957 I went through all of the “withdrawal symptoms” essential to coming off the party spirit. I lay awake in bed at night and thought of all I had advocated that was wrong. During the day I studied the Word, and prayed, and sometimes wept. How precious it all seemed to me then. I read every copy of the Millennial Harbinger, every Christian Baptist, and all of Lard’s Quarterlies, during that time. I finally became convinced that we had betrayed the restoration movement as it was in the beginning. In its stead we had contrived something of our own which we advocated and which pampered our hearts into thinking we were heirs of that wonderful idea of those who launched it.
I became conscious of the scriptures we had twisted to justify division which was always condemned by the Spirit. Finally I was ready to launch out. It was in 1957 that I first began to advocate what has now become much more popular than it was in those first days. What I advocated was an idea whose time had come. Gradually, as we gained courage and momentum, and as knowledge increased and multiplied, the Mission Messenger began to grow until it went to every continent on the globe.
In the Beginning will recover for you some of our feeble attempts to help men think, to let them see a brighter vision, and to lift them to a broader fellowship in Christ the Lord. As you read it, we sincerely hope that you will recognize it for what it is, the first faint vision of a fellowship which is truly non-sectarian, based upon His will for the lives of us all. It is not the last word upon the theme. Much more and better material will be written by others in the future. May God use it all to His purpose and to the glory of Jesus!
