Category Archives: Witnesses

“Fundamentalist” Rueben A. Torrey, and the “Faith Healing” Controversy at the Moody Bible Institute

Rueben A. Torrey (R.A. Torrey) is a name forgotten by many evangelicals today. But the influence of this late 19th to early 20th century evangelist can not be underestimated in American evangelical circles.

Rueben A. Torrey

Torrey was one of the major theological minds behind The Fundamentals: A Testimony to the Truth, a series of book-length journals, that were distributed to thousands of English-speaking pastors and other church leaders, from 1910 to 1915. We get the terminology of “Fundamentalist” from the publication of these journals, though the term did not catch on in popular culture until several decades later.

What I did not learn until recently is that R. A. Torrey was also the center of a firestorm of controversy in conservative evangelical circles, as the world entered the 20th century. In Timothy E. W. Gloege’s informative history of the Moody Bible Institute, Guaranteed Pure: The Moody Bible Institute, Business, and the Making of Modern Evangelicalism, Gloege clued me into an episode in Torrey’s life that almost dissolved his reputation, in evangelical circles, but that also reveals a ongoing tension that exists to this day, in evangelicalism.

R. A. Torrey had a rather privileged upbringing, finishing Yale University in 1875, and then Yale Divinity School, followed by graduate work in Germany. It was in Germany that Torrey was exposed to the “Higher Criticism” of the Bible, the foundational element of Protestant liberal theology, that eventually made its way to America, by the early 20th century.

As a Congregationalist pastor, Torrey was deeply conflicted over “Higher Criticism,” and he considered himself an “avowed liberal,” until he attended a meeting held by D. L. Moody, the most influential American evangelist in the late 19th century. Torrey was stunned by the spiritual power that Moody had, despite Moody’s sparse accomplishments, educationally.

Over the next several years, Torrey gave up his liberal theology for a more “plain” reading of the Bible, experiencing a sense of power in doing Christian work, that he did not have, during his more “liberal” years. He soon entered Moody’s orbit, with a focus on ministry to the working man. In 1889, Moody tapped Torrey to become the principal head of what would later become the Moody Bible Institute, in Chicago, Illinois.

It was during those years that Torrey developed a particular interpretation of the Bible, that designated the “Baptism of the Holy Spirit” as a type of “second blessing” moment, a crisis experience that Torrey believed that a Christian should pursue. The idea of a “second blessing” moment, in terms of a crisis experience, following some time after the moment of conversion, had become a staple of theology in the Holiness circles of the late 19th century. Though recognizing that not all were called to what might be classified as “Christian work,” Torrey believed that this “Baptism of the Holy Spirit” gives the Christian the Holy Spirit power required to be an effective evangelist of the Gospel. Without such Spirit Baptism, the Christian labored in vain to share the Gospel with others, with relatively little success.

Dwight L. Moody

Torrey got his beliefs from treating passages like Luke 11:13, Acts 2:1,38 (Pentecost), Acts 11:15-16 and Acts 19:6, not merely as descriptive episodes of history, but rather as prescriptive teachings to be followed today. In doing so, Torrey rejected the more standard teaching of tying the “Baptism of the Holy Spirit” together with conversion and regeneration, more commonly associated with a classically informed, Reformed approach to the Bible (see my blog series on Spirit Baptism, on Veracity).

But it was Torrey’s application of the theological principle of faith, standing behind this interpretation, that would eventually stir the controversy. Torrey became impressed with the British orphanage director, George Muller, who lived “by faith” by praying for his needs, and never soliciting others for financial and material support. However, Torrey’s experiment in living “by faith” did not end there.

Soon, Torrey went beyond that to favor an approach to “faith healing,” whereby he believed that sickness could be healed by prayer, and not by medical intervention. Torrey advised, somewhat cautiously to others at times, that a Christian should ignore doctors and rely on the prayer of faith, for God to miraculously intervene. This mistrust of doctors was not an altogether uncommon view, in the late 19th century, as modern medicine was still pretty much in its infancy, though new medical discoveries were just beginning to emerge.

For Torrey, God would only supply the needs of the believer, including medical ones, if that believer truly rested in prayer by faith. If the needs went unmet, then this was clearly an indication that there was some sort of spiritual error, committed by the Christian. Most commonly, this error was thought to be a lack of faith, on the part of the believer.

The real test of Torrey’s theology came in 1898, when Torrey’s 8-year old daughter, Elizabeth, became desperately ill due to diphtheria. Due to advances in treatment, there was a medically proven antitoxin that she could have taken, that would have surely helped cure her. However, Torrey insisted on trusting in God, and God alone, for a “faith healing.”

One evening, while Elizabeth’s sickness seemed somewhat under control, Torrey prayed and continued that evening to draft some summer landscaping plans. When Elizabeth’s condition rapidly declined, Torrey panicked and called for the doctor to bring in medicine. But by that time, it was too late.

Torrey was shaken by his daughter’s death. But his anguish was not because he wished that he had contacted the doctor sooner. Rather, he was in despair because he panicked, and called for the doctor out of his unbelief, and that it was this lack of trust in God, that led to his daughter’s death.

Shortly thereafter, Torrey’s 14-year old daughter, Blanche, became ill with a different sickness. But this time, Torrey completely relied on prayer. Blanche soon recovered, and Torrey’s confidence in “faith healing” was renewed. No medicine. No doctors.

But when D.L. Moody learned of these episodes in Torrey’s family life, the elder evangelist grew deeply concerned about Torrey’s radical views on “faith healing.” Moody shared Torrey’s theological position on the “Baptism in the Holy Spirit,” but he believed that Torrey’s views against using medicine and against heeding the counsel of medical doctors went too far. This is where the story of Henry Crowell enters the picture.

Henry Crowell was the founder of Quaker Oats, an incredibly successful brand of selling oats to consumers as packaged cereal. Prior to the market success of Quaker Oats, Americans were not accustomed to eating oats regularly, as they would typically buy their oats from a mill, scooping them out of a bag, barrel, or similar container. The quality was not always assured, and often oats were considered only suitable as feed for horses. But Crowell and his competitors sought to find ways whereby humans could enjoy oats for themselves. By pre-packaging oats in a round box, Henry Crowell was able to guarantee to his customers that the Quaker Oats brand was the safest and pure.

Henry Crowell’s success eventually led to a friendship with D. L. Moody. Unlike Moody, Crowell was not much of a public speaker, but he was a savvy and profitable businessman. Moody tapped Crowell to head the board of directors for Moody’s ministry, and remained chairman of the board of the Moody Bible Institute for 40 years.

Henry Crowell: Entrepreneurial founder of Quaker Oats cereal

Moody confided his concerns about Torrey with Crowell, prior to Moody’s death in 1899. Crowell agreed with Moody that the ministry should distance itself from such radical “faith healing” views. As with his attitude towards marketing a “guaranteed pure” brand of oats to a consuming public, Henry Crowell envisioned a Moody Bible Institute that offered a “guaranteed pure” presentation of evangelical Christian faith. Torrey’s anti-medicine views threatened to poison that purity.

It became increasingly clear that Torrey’s influence in Moody’s ministry was declining, so Torrey began a new period of service as an itinerant evangelist, culminating with him becoming the dean of the Bible Institute of Los Angeles (BIOLA), in 1912. During this period, Crowell was working to shift the direction of the Moody Bible Institute towards a more orderly and respectable evangelicalism, and away from Torrey’s confidence in “faith healing,” and other Pentecostal leanings.

Moving forward, Crowell urged his fellow evangelicals to go to the doctor when they got sick. Prayer for healing, had its place, for sure. But Crowell did not believe that such prayer was a legitimate substitute for the growing effectiveness of modern medicine.

It should not come as a surprise that when the Pentecostal movement sprang up in California, just a few years later, that the brand of theology at Moody Bible Institute cast a skeptical eye on the excesses of such less respectable theology, as found in Pentecostalism. In many ways, the greatest resistance to the “charismatic renewal” in evangelicalism was centered in the cessationist theology at Moody Bible, that taught that the gift of speaking-in-tongues ceased during the first century of the church. This theological judgment aligned with Moody Bible’s dispensationalist interpretation of Scripture, suggesting that such miraculous gifts were not part of the current dispensation of the 20th century church.

Interestingly, while Torrey still remained confident in his approach to “faith healing,” undergirded by his interpretation of the “Baptism of the Holy Spirit,” Torrey never fully endorsed the idea that the gift of tongues-speaking was the critical sign behind receiving the “Baptism of the Holy Spirit,” which was a distinctive teaching of those early Pentecostals. Pentecostals were able to make the claim that miraculous sign gifts, such as tongues-speaking, fit within their own dispensationalist paradigm, as being fully part of the current dispensation of the church (contra the Moody evangelicals). But the elevation of tongues-speaking, in particular, kept Pentecostalism from penetrating the evangelical mainstream.

R. A. Torrey went onto become a leading revivalist evangelist, in his own right, though his ministry was overshadowed by his mentor before him, D. L. Moody, and the energetic Billy Sunday, who continued the evangelistic legacy of Moody into the early quarter of the 20th century.

Torrey’s involvement in producing essays in The Fundamentals journals, of the early 1910s, sought to combat the increasing influence of German “Higher Criticism” and liberal theology, in otherwise evangelical Protestant churches. Torrey had been recruited to write for The Fundamentals project, guiding its progress as its last editor. Thanks to Torrey, his efforts helped to spur a new generation of Christians to resist the corrosive elements of theological “modernism.”

Yet Torrey would most probably bristle at the use of the term “fundamentalism,” with respect to how this concept was understood, by the late 1920s, and on into the 21st century. While Torrey was very much an advocate of halting the spread of theological liberalism, he was becaming resistant towards the tendency to view evangelical orthodoxy as being synonymous with dispensational premillennialism.

As a believer in the possibility of miracles today, Torrey was critical of those dispensationalists who downplayed the idea of God producing modern miracles, under the guise of saying that the miraculous gifts of the Holy Spirit were not part of today’s dispensation. Though still a committed premillennialist, Torrey would not insist on premillennialism as an essential dogma, largely because he showed no interest in the intricate end-time prophecy speculations, advocated by a number of those who claimed dispensational premillennialism as fundamental Christian doctrine.

Furthermore, Torrey was not overly concerned by the promotion of Darwinian evolution, in the churches. He would be rightly called a “progressive creationist,” seeing no difficulty in reconciling the Bible with the millions of years, required for evolution to work. But he did see a limit to evolution as an all-encompassing explanation for human origins. In his book-long defense of evangelical faith, What the Bible Teaches, Torrey explains that, “Whatever truth there may be in the doctrine of evolution as applied within limits to the animal world, it breaks down when applied to man.” The problem for Torrey, was not evolution, per se, but a philosophy of naturalism, that ruled out God’s intervention in history.

Here, the author of several essays in The Fundamentals stands in stark contrast with the purely dispensational premillennialism, and Young Earth Creationism, that would later become indelibly associated with so-called “fundamentalism.” Though surely a defender of conservative evangelical faith, later “fundamentalists” would surely brand Torrey as not “fundamentalist” enough, as they defined it. As Timothy Gloege concludes, in his essay “A Gilded Age Modernist: Reuben A. Torrey and the Roots of Contemporary Conservative Evangelicalism:”

“[Torrey’s] theological development suggests that at least one strand of conservative evangelicalism was more a product of modernity than a reaction to it. His mature theology was conservative to be sure, but it was also distinctively modern.”

Torrey’s largely positive legacy remains complicated. Torrey’s foray into the world of “faith healing” has left a few Christians, like his friend and ministry associate, D. L. Moody, disturbed. Torrey’s interpretation of the Baptism of the Holy Spirit sparked a manner of speculation, that deeply impacted his own personal family. By not heeding the medical advice right away, was he truly acting in the best interest for his daughter, Elizabeth? Or was he misunderstanding what it meant to truly have faith?

Nevertheless, R. A. Torrey’s reticence to fully endorse Pentecostalism, despite the similarities in views of Spirit Baptism, may partly explain why Torrey’s reputation among respectable evangelicals was eventually rehabilitated. His contribution to The Fundamentals stands as a hallmark for a type of moderately conservative evangelicalism, that stood in contrast with a more militant approach, characterized by what “Fundamentalism” would later become.


Billy Sunday: Great American Evangelist of the Early 20th Century

Billy Sunday. 1862-1935.

I visited Winona Lake, Indiana about 18 years ago, to visit the home of Billy Sunday. The Billy Sunday Home Museum is worth making an afternoon trip, as it gives you a glimpse of that “Old Time Religion,” that Billy Sunday used to preach about, as the most famous American evangelist, in the first quarter of the 20th century. Managed by the Winona History Center, of Grace College, the home museum contains a remarkable collection of artifacts, recording what life was like, for evangelical Christians living one hundred years ago. There is even a Virtual Tour that you can take.

Billy Sunday had a very poor childhood, but he rose to national prominence, as a major league baseball player, for the Chicago White Stockings. But his career as a baseball player took a turn when he visited the Pacific Garden Mission, a legendary evangelistic ministry, in the heart of Chicago. Billy Sunday committed his life to Christ, at the mission. The Pacific Garden Mission is still active today, giving help to Chicago’s homeless community, while preaching an uncompromising message of the Gospel of Jesus Christ.

Billy Sunday went onto become a nationwide, traveling evangelist. Prior to World War One, Billy Sunday was well regarded as a champion of the Christian faith, preaching a homespun message. But in the post-war era, the national mood began to change.

It was an new era marked by the growth of “modernism,” a theological movement, stemming from German “Higher Criticism,” that began to move through America’s mainline Protestant churches. Still energetic, Billy Sunday spoke out against those liberal theological impulses, that sought to change the character of traditional beliefs and practices of America’s Christian heartland. He even became a vocal supporter of prohibition, banning the use of all alcohol. But Billy Sunday never adopted the newer methods of communicating his message, like radio or moving pictures.

He was also aging. Many of his critics came to think that his conservative theological views were aging as well.

In reacting to modernism, Billy Sunday had became the embodiment of the faith and outlook of those “fundamentalist” Christians who “hit the sawdust trail.” Billy Sunday’s unsophisticated fundamentalism represented both the stalwart and faithful return to “old time religion,” for some, and simultaneously, the object of scorn and ridicule for others.

Here is a rare film recording of Billy Sunday preaching in Boston, in 1926.


Aimee Semple McPherson (on Prohibition)

Radio evangelist Aimee Semple McPherson (1890-1944). A modern day Deborah? Or a sensational character leading evangelicalism into the tragic morass of contemporary feminism?
(Photo credit: Topical Press Agency/Getty Images)

“Sister Aimee” Semple McPherson was the most famous female evangelist of the early 20th century. In an age when many Christians believed then (just as many still do) that women were not to be preachers, Sister Aimee broke all of the rules, becoming a founder of a leading Pentecostal movement, the International Church of the Four Square Gospel, and one of America’s best known and celebrated radio evangelists. Here is Sister Aimee speaking about prohibition:

She was not simply a leading church figure, she was a public celebrity, with a broad-based appeal. Take a look at this 90-second video news report of Sister Aimee returning to Los Angeles, from a preaching tour.

But according to historian Timothy Gloege, the author of Guaranteed Pure: The Moody Bible Institute, Business, and the Making of Modern Evangelicalism, Sister Aimee’s use of theatrics and elaborate props and costumes had overshadowed the more “respectable evangelicalism” headquarters on the West Coast, at the nearby Bible Institute of Los Angeles (BIOLA). Sister Aimee’s pomp and flair embarrassed the more reserved, yet still determinedly evangelistic disposition of those Christians, who found the vaudevillian drama of Sister Aimee’s style rather off-putting.

Sister Aimiee had become a symbol of what a certain strand of evangelicalism was becoming. She was a bolster to an emerging egalitarianism, affirming the validity of women serving in top positions of Christian leadership, a movement having its roots in the Holiness and Pentecostal traditions, of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.

But her ministry reputation was deeply tarnished due to a serious scandal. In May, 1926, Aimee Semple McPherson disappeared, while taking a walk near a California beach. After she had gone missing for five weeks, she reappeared in an Arizona hospital. Sister Aimee claimed that she had been kidnapped and taken to Mexico, where she was able to escape from her captors, and made her way by foot to the Arizona border, where she collapsed and became hospitalized.

Her most loyal supporters believed her story, but others were more cynical, believing that she had been having an affair with a married man. The folk song writer, Pete Seeger, takes the more cynical view in his “The Ballad of Aimee McPherson” (WARNING: SOME CONTENT MAY NOT BE SUITABLE FOR SOME AUDIENCES).

Regardless of the controversy, the story of Aimee Semple McPherson continues to fascinate to this day.

Read these other Veracity posts for more on Sister’s Aimee’s contribution to the egalitarian movement, and lingering questions about her personal reputation.


A Virginia Story of African-American Pentecostalism

During the heights of the 1930’s Great Depression, Elder Lightfoot Solomon Michaux rose as one of the most prominent African-American radio evangelists, in the history of Pentecostalism. What many do not realize is that his story began near Williamsburg, Virginia, my home town.

Michaux was born in Newport News, Virginia, in 1885. During World War I, Michaux was able to use his business acumen successfully, to obtain contracts to supply food to American troops. By 1917, Michaux had moved his family and business to Hopewell, Virginia, but he was unable to find a church, that fit well with him. Michaux had been drawn into the burgeoning Holiness movement, but he felt that more could be done to advance the Gospel, so he then moved more in Pentecostal circles.

Lightfoot Solomon Michaux (1885 – 1968). Pentecostal Radio Evangelist, Church Planter, Business Entrepreneur, and Founder of the Gospel Spreading Farm, near Williamsburg, Virginia.

Michaux returned to Newport News in 1919, following the war, and began a series of tent revivals, that appealed to many local African Americans. But Michaux bristled against newer Segregation laws in Virginia, and was sent to prison. The racial conflict spurred Michaux onwards, to expand his preaching ministry for the Gospel and against racism, and establish churches. After leaving prison, he moved his ministry operations up to Washington, D.C.

In 1929, Michaux persuaded a local radio station to broadcast his evangelistic services, called the “Happiness Hour.” When the radio station was bought by the CBS Radio Network in 1932, Michaux was catapulted into the national spotlight, with perhaps as many as 25 million radio listeners. He even ventured into international radio ministry with the BBC, in the mid-1930s, thus establishing him as a pioneer, in global radio outreach ministry.

According to the Williamsburg Yorktown Daily, in 1936, Michaux purchased a 500 acre tract of land, located along the James River, just a few miles from Jamestown, Virginia, thus creating the “National Memorial to the Progress of the Colored Race in America.” Locals in Williamsburg know it is the “Gospel Spreading Farm.” When the Colonial Parkway was expanded to connect Williamsburg and Jamestown in the 1950s, the federal government secured a right-of-way, along the river, from the Gospel Spreading Farm, to complete the road project.

Michaux’s vision was to create a type of cooperative farming community, which would serve as a haven for African-Americans, offering educational and evangelistic programs. Michaux believed that a coming economic crisis, an order of magnitude worse than the Great Depression, would severely cripple the American economy. He believed that the farm would become a refuge for thousands of African Americans, to survive such an apocalypse.

Neither the apocalypse, nor the full vision of a highly-functioning, cooperative community, ever materialized. The national influence of Michaux was further eclipsed by a new rising star, in the African-American community, Martin Luther King, Jr.

According to the New York Times, Michaux was highly suspicious of Martin Luther King. Michaux did not believe that King’s vision, enacted through protest marches and sit-ins, was wholly inline with Christian values. Instead, Michaux believed that the crisis of racism in the American culture, could only be resolved through evangelistic preaching, and not through social protests. Michaux even embraced the idea that Martin Luther King was secretly a Communist, and Michaux at times cooperated with J. Edgar Hoover at the FBI, to undermine King’s influence.

Michaux was fearless and bold in his preaching. One story from the mid-20th century segregation era relates that Michaux preached at an “all-white, KKK-infested congregation” in Baltimore, Maryland. But his preaching was so effective that a white klansman was converted and joined a branch of Michaux’s African American Church of God, in Baltimore.

Michaux died in 1968. The Gospel Spreading Farm is still in operation, but a dispute in Michaux’s local church, over the land management, led to a split in the community, that for some remains unresolved. The Gospel Spreading Farm is quietly tucked away at the very end of Treasure Island Road, a spur off of Lake Powell Road. Yet residents of Williamsburg will be most familiar with the legacy of Michaux, when they see Oleta Coach Lines buses traveling up and down the roads, surrounding the Williamsburg area. Oleta is family owned and operated, through some church members, who grew up under the shadow of Michaux’s influence.

Below is a film clip from one of Michaux’s evangelist radio sessions, singing his signature song, “Happy Am I.”


Sarah Osborn’s World #6

The last in this series of blog posts about the life of the 18th century diary writer, Sarah Osborn. I hope you have enjoyed them (Previous posts: #1, #2, #3, #4, #5).

By the eve of the American Revolution, Sarah Osborn’s health had declined so much that she was largely unable to write. Furthermore, the war severely disrupted Sarah’s ministry, as when the British first lay siege to the city of Newport in late 1775 and then finally occupied it for about three years, the city was emptied of over one-third of its inhabitants. This devastation combined with a hurricane and several harsh winters, and the loss of her husband Henry, brought Sarah once again to the brink of destitution. If it were not for the generosity of her Christian friends remaining in Newport, as practically an invalid she would have surely starved or froze to death. Continue reading