A Look Back: Settling In

In 1946, a young William Lee Bonner arrived at Michigan Central Station. He made his way to the church on Orleans St. that he had visited once before. He was now the pastor of that church, which was housed in an old bakery building. There was no money for immediate repairs for the church, so even though it had upstairs apartments, Bonner first lodged with the saints (And the High Place, 31-32).

The church was slow to warm up to Bonner for a number of reasons (High Place, 33-34). For one thing, even though he could be called a Lawsonite due to his close association with Bishop Lawson, Bonner was a true Lawsonite in the sense of making his ministry his full-time profession. Because the church was small, they assumed he would take at least part-time employment; that did not happen. Moreover, as Bonner began to express ideas about improving the church building, he met opposition to his "fancy ideas." One big difference between Bonner and the outgoing pastor he was replacing was that (at the time), Bonner was "no preacher"--that is, his rhetorical practice was "a bit boring."

Above all the aforementioned reasons was this one: the church as a whole did not agree with the removal and replacement of their old minister, one Elder Vinson. It would not be far-fetched to assume that much of what they resented about Bonner corresponded to what they liked about Elder Vinson, who we can picture as a sometime bivocational pastor with a mature preaching style that moved congregants. The church was slow to get over Lawson's decision to remove Elder Vinson, and well after Bonner had assumed the pastorate, some members "kept up strife and sent false reports... concerning the Bonners" (High Places, 33).

Though this church was firmly established as a group, the Bonners did not have it easy. Financial support was not reliable. Only if supportive members attended service could Elder Bonner expect any income for him, Mrs. Bonner, and their new baby. Their dinners were very humble: beans, gravy, very little meat (High Places, 33). During sermons, Bonner has often recounted how neck bone was the only meat they could afford in those early times. In addition, Elder Bonner's wardrobe was in terrible repair. While preaching, he wore a cape, but underneath the cape he wore suits that were "shiny" and "creaseless." He wore out some of the knees of his pants in prayer, and wore his shoe soles "so thin until the outline of his feet could be seen" (High Places, 34).

Bishop Lawson did come by once to "straighten things out" when rumors reached him in New York about the Bonners. However, as with Elder Lymus Johnson, there was no financial underwriting. There is record that Bishop Lawson did, here and there, send financial support to churches in need, but perhaps by Lawson's estimation, this did not really need more than a firm reprimand for the insubordination of a few "troublemakers." Consider the facts: The church was small and relatively young, but already had a strong, experienced core group. Bonner was, after all, not their first pastor, and they had been taught to support the ministry with tithes and offerings. Rather than get involved, Lawson reiterated: Elder Bonner was their pastor. That was that.

Eventually, the church began recover. A portion of the church sought membership elsewhere, which increased Bonner's ratio of support among those who remained. The tiny continuing membership connected with Bonner's sincerity and prayerfulness. Bonner's wife, Sister Ethel Mae Bonner (née Smith), began noonday prayer services and a choir (High Places, 280). An experienced construction worker, Bonner began making improvements on the old bakery building with the help of some of the church brethren  (High Places, 34).

Membership and revenue increased little by little, and after a while, "Bonner was able to buy an old used car," which he used to reach out to Cardboard Valley, a nearby community. Carloads of children were picked up for Sunday School, and eventually some of their parents followed. Bonner also established fellowships with other churches nearby, "which represented many denominations"; the mutual support afforded by the church's interdenominational relationships gave the church greater visibility in the community and brought in additional finances (High Places, 35-36).

Finally, the anointing began to overshadow Bonner's ministry. His homilies, heretofore "a bit boring," were now evangelistic in their focus, becoming the spiritual climax (rather than anticlimax) of what were already lively services (High Places, 36, 34), Three years into his pastorate, a visitor was spontaneously baptized in the Holy Ghost during a Sunday night musical. The experience "surprised" the church and young pastor, but surprise gave way to "great joy" (High Places, 36, 192).

To put things in perspective, it took over three years for Elder Bonner to establish himself in Detroit. Though the church was established, increasing the church's membership and its influence in the community was very hard work. Perhaps the hardest part of pastoring was being accepted by the church to which one was appointed. Of course, the prize of this sort of acceptance is the privilege doing more hard work: taking the lead in fundraising; initiating building campaigns; dealing with the personal and financial problems that inevitably occur in the course of ministry.

Often, church divisions are portrayed as the unhappiness of a few power-thirsty men bent on taking what they desire by force. While that certainly does occur, in the context of the present series, it suddenly seems reasonable that, after investing so much time and energy into a church and community for years, or decades, some of Lawson's maturing young preachers would find being overruled by a somewhat detached, geographically distant, financially absent patriarch hard to accept. More and more, it seemed, Bishop Lawson, wealthy and celebrated, was somewhat out of touch with the difficult concrete work of his pastors and with their expectations of him as a leader.

Bishop Bonner calls the 1957 separation "a confusing time" (High Places, 73); his decision to stay with Lawson was reached in prayer. Others reached their decisions by other means. We'll examine the events that began to foment dissatisfaction and that led ultimately to reformation among the brethren in the near future. First, though, let's examine Lawson's own life and ascension to affluence in light of the privations suffered by those who served with him.

A Look Back: Young Recruits

Elder Robert C. Lawson was a highly effective evangelist. Early on in his ministry, he was a field superintendent in the Pentecostal Assemblies of the World. He traveled throughout the country preaching wherever doors were opened  to him. Sometimes he preached in the open air, but often he evangelized churches. This history gives a succinct description of this aspect of Lawson's ministry:

Elder Robert C. Lawson, a great pioneer of Pentecost, traveled throughout the country preaching the Apostolic message and establishing churches. He had a special anointing on his ministry that enabled him to go into cities where there had been no previous Pentecostal activity and find a place to preach. Many souls would come to be saved.

During these evangelistic trips, Lawson would organize those who embraced his doctrine and found a new Pentecostal church in the area. Clearly, he could not pastor all the churches he started, so there was a demand for capable young ministers to take charge of (and grow) these new churches.

In his early ministry, Lawson recruited young PAW ministers, like Elder Herbert Spencer, who began his ministry as a traveling evangelist with Lawson. After the dissension at the Church of Christ, Spencer was installed as pastor of the minority group of about 200 that left the church in support of Lawson's teaching. Spencer led the reorganized group under the name of Rehoboth Church of Christ.

Spencer, who later succeeded Lawson as presider of the Church of Our Lord Jesus Christ, was just one of quite a few ecclesiastical heavyweights whose ministries began with or were catalyzed by Lawson's influence. Another is Bishop Austin Layne. The above quotation comes from a history that praises Layne as "a strong organizer" and credits him with "establish[ing] the Temple Church of Christ in 1922 ... the oldest Apostolic church in the [St. Louis, Mo.] area." However, in a 1959 article entitled "Honor to Whom Honor is Due," Bishop Lawson recalls Layne's beginnings in St. Louis as

another classic example of an Elder who was brought to a church by me. I personally told him of a church that I had founded there, and offered to give it to him if he came out West. At that time I was pastoring in Columbus, Ohio. Later on, he said he would pray over it, which he claimed he did, and God spoke to him and said St. Louis. He came to see me in Columbus, Ohio, where I pastored. He preached for me.

We took up an offering for him and escorted him and his family to the church in St. Louis. We appointed him the pastor, the saints accepted him; he was put in charge of the church: I took up an offering for him and his family. He has prospered greatly and has been promoted to the bishoprick of his organization. (Defense, 409)

Lawson then shares his disappointment that "[n]ever once has he made mention as I can remember that it was I, Bishop R.C. Lawson, who preached on the streets, founded the church, and turned it over to him" (Defense, 409).

Layne was perhaps a convenient example for Lawson to help drive home a point concerning another appointee of his. In the article, Lawson refers to this minister anonymously as

A certain Elder who was appointed to a church with a membership that was able to support him without working. 

The Lord straightway blessed him and prospered his work. 

He bought a lot, built a fine church, but when he laid the cornertstone after the church was completed he was so dishonest and selfish, he engraved his name as co-founder, but in the place where the real founder's name should have been placed, he left that vacant.... 

He stated that he founded the church by preaching on the streets, a water plug was his pulpit, he gave no credit to anyone in bringing him there and assigning him to the church. He developed the church as true, but did not start or found it. He changed the name of the Church of Our Lord Jesus Christ to a certain name. Later he split off from the parent body and named his church National Organization after the name of his local church.

He should have been honest enough to name the other man who founded his church and appointed him to the pastorage. (Defense, 409)

Of course, the person Lawson speaks of is Smallwood Williams. Everything he says is true. However, the truth about these appointments belies the reality of the work of pastoring and expanding a church. History bears out, for instance, that, even if Williams didn't found the church, he had preached on the street corners of Washington, D.C., and even though he didn't found the church, he certainly established it, built it, made it viable.

While Lawson rightly takes credit for the initial breakthroughs that came through his ministry, it was rarely the case that these churches were beyond the initial stages of development. For instance, when Lawson brought Elder Layne to the church at St. Louis, what Layne encountered (according to this article) was "a storefront that seated 25, but had only 'a half-dozen attending.'" A church, indeed, had been conceived through Lawson's preaching, but the work of building the church was Layne's. (Incidentally, the article in entitled "Our Founder, Bishop Austin A. Layne, Sr.")

A very clear picture of the naure of a Lawsonite assignment comes to us from an ostensibly unlikely source. Rhythm-and-blues singer Darlene Love mentions Bishop Lawson as "a Pentecostal legend" in her autobiography, All You Need Is Love. Raised in the Pentecostal Assemblies of the World, she was the daughter of a preacher who left his California assistant pastorship in 1951 on the heels of "a mild scandal." Love's father, Joe Wright, accepted an appointment to a church in Texas after Bishop Lawson visited them and offered him the pastorate. Love's bubbly, humorous tone becomes blatantly ironic as she recalls her famly's arrival in Texas:

Our excitement about the train ride east -- our first ever -- was tempered by the fact that we had to leave almost everything behind because we couldn't afford to ship it. The parsonage we were promised was furnished, and everything else we'd have to save for all over again. This meant leaving behind the few toys we had, including my roller skates and the beloved Schwinn bicycle I'd won by selling newspaper subscriptions. Only Edna got to bring her dolls -- she just cried so loud that my parents gave in. ... 

The excitement of the trip wore off quickly when we got to the house and saw just how shabby it was. It was a brown wood frame with linoleum throughout and flowered wallpaper that was yellowed and ugly. Some of our coloring books -- the ones we left behind -- had more intricate designs. ... Everything in the house was in various states of disrepair: the faucets, the toilets, the bunk beds. In some places on the floor, you could see clear through to the foundation. The furniture was borderline Goodwill -- in other words, a few sticks pasted together here and there. Welcome to the Promised Land, Pastor Wright. (All You Need, ch. 2)

Love goes on to mention other privations. There was a small congregation, but they could barely afford to to support Wright and his family financially; the new pastor had to take part-time work. The dry heat of Texas affected the whole family's allergies, but exacerbated little Edna's eczema in the worst way. They were even without hot water, until a visit from Bishop Lawson prompted parishioners to raise money for a water heater to be installed. Not long after his installation, Pastor Wright had a brief confrontation with one of the older women of the church. Eventually, they returned to California.

Was Lawson a bit of a salesman? Perhaps. Parsonage life was (and is) difficult. While Lawson speaks of escorting preachers to financially supportive churches, it is clear that these churches were in no sense thriving, numerically or financially. Surely, all of Bishop Lawson's appointments were not like these. Yearly, during the National Convention, Lawson appointed ministers to various pulpits, or moved standing ministers to new pulpits. Were these appointments different from the church plant assignments described here? Let's examine the experience of another successful minister that was appointed to a church that was past infancy.

A Look Back: New Position, No Pay

Under Bishop Robert C. Lawson's leadership, Refuge Temple was a very exciting place to be. Early on, services were held daily. Bishop Lawson often invited guest evangelists to preach. Some were young ministers associated with Lawson's movement. Sometimes outside preachers were called, one interesting example being the Rev. George Becton, known for his "consecrated dime" gimmick.

One wonders if Lawson's dealings with Becton are not partly responsible for his later dealings with young ministers. He was not fond of ministers raising large offerings. Author Steve Walters, in his 2002 biography of Apostle Lymus Johnson, describes Johnson's relationship with Lawson when it came to finances. Writes Walters, "Bishop Lawson was not apt to give you any money, but if he did, he would make you sign [a promissory note] for it. If you didn't pay it back, he would certainly talk about you" (A Shepherd's Journey, 109). 

We can gather that Bishop Lawson prioritized financial discipline, and had no compunction about warning others about potential adverse risk.

More personally, after selecting, proving, and appointing Johnson to the office of National Evangelist Board chairman, Johnson would be sent throughout the country without one penny from Lawson or the national organization. Johnson brought up the issue to Lawson, who replied, "[Y]ou don't need any money. God called you, not me" (Journey, 72).

Over time, Johnson began to understand Lawson's mind about the situation. Lawson was "a man that started from scratch," a man who "gave up three thriving churches" to go "where there was no one who knew him, no kind of support system for him and church to go to. How did he get there? ... He preached his way there..." (Journey, 73). If God could bless a man who arrived in New York City with five cents in his pockets to become a millionaire, complete with chauffeur (Journey, 109), Johnson, too, would have to learn to trust God to supply for and prosper his ministry. 

For Johnson, reprieve came "[w]hen the saints began to realize what was going on[;] they began giving him financial handshakes" (Journey, 109; Bishop William L. Bonner has been known to tell a similar story, in which the financial handshakes amounted to some $2,000). 

On the road, Johnson learned to focus his fundraising efforts on the host church, particularly in smaller churches and new missions; sometimes he would give a part of whatever money he received during his evangelistic meetings back to the host church. As time progressed, money ceased to be a concern, and by the end of his life, Johnson could be considered quite well off. It was those difficult years, mastering the art of "knowing how to go in and come out" (Journey, 111), when Johnson, under Lawson's strict oversight, learned to achieve success in ministry and to hold the natural desire for money in check.

This, readers, is how Lawson avoided scandal, and why Johnson and the evangelist that he in turn groomed did not become little Bectons, little fundraising evangelists who prayed and pocketed. 

All this notwithstanding, living and traveling by faith may have frustrated some ministers. Fortunately, some ministers, like the future Smallwood Williams, were sent by Lawson to take charge of established churches. Let's explore this experience from the point of view of those who lived it in our next article. 

The Bible Way Split: Witness to Schism

In the year 1914, Elder Robert Clarence Lawson took charge of a fledgling mission started by an evangelist. He incorporated in 1919 it as a church in Columbus, Ohio, calling it the "Church of Christ of the Apostolic Faith, Inc." His assistant pastor there was Karl Smith. 
 
Later in 1919, Lawson went east to New York City on a word from the Lord. He had preached there before, but this time he stayed. Beginning at a prayer meeting in a basement on 40th Street, Lawson established the Refuge Church of Christ in Harlem, the "city of refuge" for migrant Negroes escaping the South. He preached up other little congregations throughout the Northeast, Mid-Atlantic, and Southeast. Eventually he invited all of these congregations to partake in a convention in New York, including his church from back in Columbus, the Church of Christ. Over time, it became clear that, despite continued fellowship, Lawson was organizing his own work and was no longer a part of the Pentecostal Assemblies of the World. Karl Smith took office as General Secretary of Lawson's new organization.

After some years, Lawson met with Smith and the Church of Christ congregation regarding some issue that surfaced within the congregation. Smith, following his personal convictions, disagreed with Lawson's approach to the issue. Part of the church followed Lawson's leadership, and the other part stayed with Smith, who returned to the PAW. This incident, though minor, was perhaps the first interruption to occur under Lawson's leadership.

Watching the whole affair was a young Smallwood Williams. It was he who recalled Smith's words, "I will not yield." The writer will not attempt to read any psychological effects into Williams' witnessing of this event. He was just 18 years old at the time (1925). However, observing Lawson's disagreement with another, subordinate minister must have been instructive. 

While Karl Smith was willing to take a definite stand for his convictions, Williams being so young may have seen Lawson's intransigence as a force to be reckoned with; after all, some 24 years lay between them. Williams was just entering manhood, while Lawson had ascended into middle age. Social custom demanded deference, as did the sheer power of Lawson's personality. He was respected by young and old, a genuine intellectual, and a rhetorician of unusual power. Inasmuch as he needed someone to vouchsafe his legitimacy as a teenage preacher, it is not hard to imagine Williams recognizing the need to carry on ministry in a way that not only pleased God, but also went over well with Lawson.

While the Bible Way split was based on the argument that Lawson was dictatorial, one wonders what Lawson was really like as an administrator. In our next article, we'll examine Lawson's relationship with his junior ministers.

The Bible Way Split: What Happened?

Bishop R.C. Lawson left the Middle West for New York City around 1919. Forthwith, he began to prosper. Days of privation for ministry's sake gave way to years of business and ministry success. Within months of his arrival in Harlem, the city of refuge for southern black migrants, he turned one of Harlem's most vicious blocks on 133rd Street (popularly called Beale Street, after a similarly notorious street in New Orleans) into what became known as Hallelujah Boulevard. Refuge Church of Christ and a host of businesses run by the saints there changed the face of the neighborhood. From there, Lawson's work grew and grew, anticipating the lyrics that have inspired so many to come to the city: "If I can make it there, I can make it anywhere... New York, New York."

Alas, if only those lyrics could be truly said of Lawson. Though he and his ministers successfully set up ministries up and down the Eastern Seaboard, one area would prove particularly problematic: Washington, D.C. Early on, Lawson called the area "a preacher's graveyard." Church planting in Washington, for whatever reasons, was apparently no easy task. Almost 10 years after coming east, Lawson finally found a minister, Smallwood E. Williams, who would successfully plant a mission in the capital district.

Williams had grown up under Lawson's ministry in Columbus, Ohio. He was called to preach at a young age, and in the face of opposition because of his youth, he was licensed to preach at 16, catechized and ordained at 18, and in 1927 was sent to take over a small mission in Washington. He was 20 years old. Over the next 30 years, he established excellent rapport with the Washington community and became one of its most visible men of faith. Moreover, he was a high-ranking officer in the Church of Our Lord Jesus Christ and overseer of Maryland and the District of Columbia. His working relationship with Lawson was uniquely productive; he seemed to know his father in the gospel inside out and could cajole him in a way no one else could.

What great irony it was, that after 30 years of faithful service, this same young man, Bishop Williams, would bring the most grievous schism the Church of Our Lord Jesus Christ has ever had up to that point or since. What happened? We'll look into the background of the course-changing Bible Way split in the next few articles.