The church split and the stars fell

CHAPTER FIVE

This week, we will be following along with young John Milligan Wickerham as he reminisces about his childhood, the church and all the changes that are rapidly taking place. John Milligan Wickerham was the grandson of Peter and Mary (Platter) Wickerham of Palestine (between Peebles and Locust Grove) and the son of John and Jane (Milligan) Wickerham, who was featured in last week’s story. John Milligan’s father, if you remember, was blind in his right eye. Chapter Five finds us 20 years later in 1833.

When young John Milligan Wickerham was thirteen years old, both his childhood and its isolation seemed something of the past. He was growing tall so rapidly, he seemed to be viewing the world from the physical height of an average man and progress seemed to be fairly pushing aside the old and ushering in the new.

The log house near Palestine (between Peebles and Locust Grove) that had always been his home was one of the silent reminders that the country was still very young, for it had been built by some early settlers. The heavy oak doors were made to be barred from the inside, and there were trough openings in the logs for firing muskets; mute evidence that Indians had once roamed this land. Boy-liked, John often day-dreamed of the time some forty years back, (1793) when this house may have been surrounded by Indians, for by tradition, it was here when the Covenanters came. Who built and deserted it, was not known? This is the only house I ever heard described as having been for fortification, though there may have been others.

The rich clay loam buried under ages of leaf mold was very productive. Small clearings had grown into sizeable farms and roads were being established where only trails had been. Stagecoach roads and service were fast improving.

During the years of struggle for establishment in a new place, there had been little time for these pious Covenanters to seriously question church doctrine. True, there had been times when interest in other doctrines had flared up and though no “occasional hearing” rule had irked, but this rule was being broken and little was said about it. They had come to feel that their particular church doctrine was as fixed as the stars in the heavens.

Now, with better roads and improved stagecoach service, more newspapers were finding their way into the homes. Covenanters sought higher education and were great readers and reading the newspaper was considered necessary for spiritual advancement as well as education.

“For how could we know what the devil was doing if we did not read the newspapers?” “We then know for what we need to pray,” was often remarked.

Covenanters took no part in politics. They refused to vote or take oath unless the preamble to our constitution be changed to read: “We the people of the U.S. recognizing Jesus Christ to be Supreme Ruler of Nations, etc.”

Trouble within the church really began about a year previous to 1833. The Eastern Subordinate Synod had met in New York and a committee drew up a paper disagreeing with the part of church doctrine that held it a sin to vote or take oath. This paper was circulated throughout the church as a pastoral letter and young John Wickerham probably heard more of this dispute than any other of his age.

It seemed their pastor, Reverend David Steele was troubled over the situation and came often to discuss church matters with his father; perhaps the Reverend Steele was seeking an opinion from one who was a well-known bible student before disclosing the matter to his church.

It was Sabbath day, and one of those sweltering hot days in August. One pastor had always preached alternate Sabbaths at Palestine and The Ridge church. Today was preaching day in the Brush Creek church on “The Ridge.” Rev. Steele had returned from a meeting of Synod in Philadelphia the previous week, in time for the mid-week Society (Prayer) meeting, and had given the report that had been like a bombshell in their midst.

The church split over the political issue. Rev. Steele, all had noticed, had not committed himself for or against the issue, but had remained within the old ranks.

To young John, there seemed a tenseness in the atmosphere as worshippers walked sedately down the aisles to family pews. The very aged women still wore dresses of heavy silk brought with them from eastern states or from across the seas. A really fine silk was said to “stand-alone” when the hoop of the billowing skirt rested on the floor. Those stately old ladies, many of them mothers of a dozen children, appeared always to be living up to their belief that it was one’s duty to honor the Lord by wearing to His house, the best clothes they had.

Today, as young John sat with his father, mother and sisters, the rustle of those old silk dresses seemed more pronounced. Perhaps, in his subconscious mind, that quiet rustle was as the tolling of a bell for the death of an era of church history. However, that may be, stories of the rustle of those old silk dresses as those ladies walked down the aisles of that old meeting house, linger as sound pictures in my memory today.

Covenanters never had an excuse for being absent from church. There had to be a reason. This day, in the same mental picture, I can see the, — the Hemphill’s, Williams’, Wallace’s, Chambers’, Johnstons’, Montgomery’s, Campbells’, Sharps’, Davis’, Stephenson’s, Mitchells’, Ralston’s, Wickerham’s, McClure’s, Shields’, Torrence’s, Milligan’s, Georges’, Burns’, Bayles’, Fulton’s and Wylie’s. Over there in the shadows on the far side of the church, are those forgotten and who rest in unmarked graves, truly unknown soldiers of the cross of Jesus Christ.

The morning sermon was given and though all ears were attentive, no one heard a breath of censure for the erring brethren who had made defections. Perhaps the afternoon sermon would reveal their pastor’s stand against such shocking conduct.

That those who split off had the audacity to designate themselves as “New Light Covenanters’ was unthinkable to loyal covenanters. If any wanted to follow a new light, let them, but they had no right, to the name of Covenanter, for, they had not broken their Covenant Vows! Why did not Rev. Steele come out with the scathing denunciation they deserved? Covenanter ministers were given to soundly scoring from the pulpit, any national or community action not to their sanction.

In the afternoon sermon, there was yet no word of rebuke. Indeed, the whole matter was ignored. To the old folks, this meant he was lax in his duty as a pastor, but, as days went by, it was evident he was not a new Light sympathizer. In many churches the pastor had gone into the new Lights, taking those of like convictions with him.

Outwardly, the church went on as usual but within, seemed a sense of foreboding. The old acceptance of church doctrine without question seemed to be gone. Young folks were asking questions when before, they had been content to be catechized. Formerly, the answer, “The catechism says so and so,” had settled the matter. Now a young person might reply, “But it seems to me the catechism does not agree with the Bible.”

In the matter of politics, those who disagreed with the church declared that ours is a Christian nation, but to so state in on our constitution would be a move toward uniting church and state. They believed that this stand the church took in the beginning was right and needful, where ungodly church and state united in the old country and the state required acknowledgment of powers contrary to God’s laws; and at that time insisting on all worshiping according to a state-dictated creed. In America, it was only for the purpose of keeping the ancient laws of the covenanter church intact and could not be scripturally important. Why not have a little less hair-splitting and a little more common sense and let Christians all vote for Christian men!

Not all the youth were for voting and not all the old folks were against, but in general, they lined up that way in the churches that split. Within those churches that did not split, the sentiment ran that way also. Is it any wonder then, that, as those good people went about their early morning work on the thirteenth of November, three months after the church split – that historic day when the stars of heaven came raining down – if the question came to the minds of those staunch old Covenanters, had the disruption within the church so rocked the universe that the stars were dislodged?

The dark days of 1780, was very vivid in the minds of a great many. The terrible Lisbon earthquake of 1755, they had read about and though called dogmatic, Covenanter’s tread softly as to interpreting prophecy. However, what could be more likely than, that the “after the tribulation of those days” referred to, the long night of church persecution, that history records as beginning early in the sixteenth century and lasting to the latter part of the eighteenth. This could be the third event of the opening of the sixth seal of the Revelations.

Yet it was with perfect serenity that age and youth watched this phenomenon. Both enjoyed that “peace that passeth all understanding,” for, had not their ancestors suffered death and banishment that they might worship God according to the dictates of their own conscience.

Written circa late 1950s and early 1960s by Lena McCoy Mathews (1893-1988) and transcribed for The Defender by Joyce Wilson. Look for more history in future issues of The People’s Defender.