Race and the Roots of the Presbyterian Church in America, no. 2

[For an explanation of this series and the first post, see here.]

Even
with Taylor and Bell’s moderation on racial issues, there were those in
conservative ranks who were determined to maintain racial integrity. W. A.
Gamble, stated clerk of Central Mississippi Presbytery and sometime contributor
to the Journal, was incensed by the
recent softening on racial separation in the magazine since Taylor became
editor. Board member John R. Richardson tried to calm Gamble down by writing,
“We realize there has been some dissatisfaction. I am grateful, however, to
tell you that I feel that in basic convictions all connected with the Journal
have not changed nor will change in the future” on segregation. As a way of
backing that reassurance, the Journal
board issued a statement were they insisted “that the integrity of each race
should be a matter of paramount importance and grave concern that much today
which purports to be ‘Christian race relations’ has nothing to do with Biblical
Christianity but works toward the destroying of racial integrity as it has
developed in the Providence of God.” As a result, the board reaffirmed
“voluntary segregation in churches, schools, and other social relationships,”
which was all for the “highest interests of the races.” In fact, “forced
interracial social relationships, rather than being the ideal to which the
church should work, are actually compounding the problems they seek to solve.
Racial integrity is something to be preserved, not broken down.”[1]

Even
while defending racial integrity, southern Presbyterian conservatives valued
social order even more. Violence, whether defending segregation or promoting
integration, was unacceptable. In 1961, East Alabama Presbytery declared itself
against the mob violence that engulfed the Freedom Riders in Birmingham and
Montgomery: “We express our deep regret and emphatic disapproval of mob
violence for whatever cause.” Likewise, Nelson Bell was appalled by the
lawlessness on the part of both sides in Birmingham in 1963. “One of our chief
concerns is the effect these demonstrations are having on young people, both
Negro and white,” he declared. “Many white boys and girls, encouraged no doubt
by their parents, have participated in counter demonstrations involving insults
and violence. At the same time many Negro young people are being led into a
psychological blind-alley–following the idea that ‘rights’ can be secured by
mob action.” Not mob violence, but adherence to the law was the way forward:
“where laws perpetuate injustices, they must be changed.”[2]

 On the
other side, the pursuit of racial justice did not legitimate law-breaking
either. When the 1965 PCUS General Assembly endorsed a range of Civil Rights
activities, including peaceful demonstrations and sit-ins, over sixty
commissioners filed a dissent. Nelson Bell presented it to the assembly,
arguing that “some of the methods sanctioned in the document are ‘contrary to
or go beyond the jurisdiction of the Church.'” Even if the church desired to
support “worthy goals” like racial justice, Aiken Taylor noted, that did not
mean that it could do so through “radical measures” or “extremism or
vindictiveness.” Later in 1965, Bell worried again that peaceful demonstrations
were a small step from civil disobedience and “the step from civil disobedience
to riots and violence is even shorter.” Willfully breaking laws, even for a
worthy goal, is wrong: “No nation should permit injustice and discrimination to
be a part of its accepted way of life. But no nation can survive which placidly
allows people to make of themselves prosecutors, jurors, and executioners–and
this applies to all citizens.” Means
do not justify the end: breaking the law, whether to support segregation or
integration, was never right.[3]

 Sometimes
defending racial integrity, or at least defending the South’s approach to
racial issues, required an active engagement of those who disagreed. In
1963-64, Hattiesburg, Mississippi, was a key center for voter registration
efforts in which northern Presbyterian ministers worked. The three Hattiesburg
Presbyterian ministers–William J. Stanway, Newton Cox, and Ed Jussely–sought to
engage their Yankee counterparts, both in the local press and by their
willingness to debate the issue on their home turf. As a result, these three
ministers along with two ruling elders went to Charleston, Illinois, to speak
to Presbyterians there about the racial situation throughout the Deep South.
Even more, they communicated their commitment to the spiritual mission of the
church: “The church as an organization has no business taking part in political
and sociological affairs.” That was not to say that the Gospel did not have
social implications; it most assuredly did. However, Hattiesburg Presbyterians
pointed to Scripture to show that it did not justify civil disobedience nor did
it countenance northern Presbyterians’ “invasion” of Hattiesburg to promote
racial justice. If northern Presbyterians desired to help blacks, they should
preach the Gospel to them, which would in turn promote their social and
economic wellbeing.[4]