The Bible Way Split: Young Bishops

The earliest Pentecostals were not at all anticipating creating a new denomination. However, when many of their churches refused to retain them as members, missionaries, or ministers, they were compelled to leave and find (or create) a group that would accept them. Unevenly, fellowships and associations took form. Some former Holiness groups, like the Fire Baptized churches and the Churches of God in Christ, espoused Seymour's doctrine and became Pentecostal organizations; these churches were representative of the Holiness movement of the South, where the term "Holiness Church" became the common way of referring to Pentecostal churches. This was not the case everywhere.

As Pentecostal groups became more organized, another important issue surfaced: church polity. While a good number of preachers had come into Pentecost voluntarily, some had been kicked out of their old groups. The preachers who composed the early core of Pentecostal clergy represented almost every stripe of Protestantism there was. So from the beginning, there were those who were accustomed to congregational government; others who preferred government by synod; and still others expecting a hierarchy to emerge. 

Generally, after racial divisions reemerged in the movement, predominantly European groups tended toward looser associative organizations, led by a voting presbytery; on the other hand, organizations mainly populated by those of African descent began, by and large, to choose episcopal forms of government. Pervading the whole movement was a tinge of congregationalism: members carried out church discipline among themselves and called pastors to their vacant pulpits. Whatever national oversight churches had, was not usually in a position to carry kind of decision-making power that one would have encountered in Methodism or other mainline churches.

Bishop R. C. Lawson, interestingly, was. Unlike many of the earliest Pentecostal clergy, Lawson was spiritually born into this movement. Though he was from a family of Baptist preachers, he had not been converted in that tradition. When he entered the ministry, there was no aversion to strict superintendency. He had not known the rejection that others before him had experienced. 

One example that comes to mind is the case of Rev. William Pendleton, one of the early officers of the Pentecostal Assemblies of the World. Pendleton was a Holiness pastor in Los Angeles. He and a large segment of his membership began associating with William Seymour's church at 312 Azusa St., and they brought news and witness of their Pentecostal experience back to their home church. Unfortunately, their testimony was rejected outright by Holiness leadership in their area; Holiness churches, ironically, were some of the most vociferous opponents of this new branch of their movement. Pendleton and the spirit-filled group were disfellowshipped and turned out of the building they had worked to purchase. Soon they joined Frank Bartleman at his mission on the corner or Eighth and Maple; some years later, Bartleman turned the pastorate over to Pendleton.

When Pendleton was an officer of the P.A. of W., it was little more than a loose association of churches. There were no bishops; in fact, Pendleton is listed as "Bro. Pendleton," a common means of address among clergy that reveals the egalitarian ideal that prevailed in those days.

However, when Brother Lawson came into Pentecost -- and especially when he entered ministry -- strict oversight was the means of his entry. He came to Christ Temple a total novice; seeing someone receive the Holy Ghost sitting in their seat, he went and sat in the same seat in order to be filled, before someone taught him otherwise. As a young ministerial candidate, he was forbidden by his pastor, Elder Garfield T. Haywood, to read any book besides the Bible, which they read in its entirety six times a year. Lawson was part of a young cadre of young ministers whose doctrinal instruction was extremely disciplined and closely watched. The fruit of this training was such that all of these men became leaders of note in the growing P.A. of W.

When Elder Lawson founded his own organization, this sense of strict training was ingrained in him. The only hurt he had known was the rejection of uneducated laity whose regard for Haywood's charismatic authority had diminished his ability to challenge what he saw as unscriptural views on divorce and remarriage. Determined on one hand to duplicate and improve upon the rigorous training he had received, and eager on the other hand to create a community of scripturally informed, well-educated congregants (as opposed to what he had dealt with in the Midwest), Elder Lawson embraced episcopal church government, but made many allowances for the empowerment of the congregation. Because Elder Lawson had a knack for planting churches, it was natural for him to develop in every church the kind of discipline he thought was necessary to create the kind of organization he envisioned.

As time passed, the churches that made up Lawson's Refuge Churches of Christ were presented with the option to fully incorporate. All church property would become the property of the Church of Our Lord Jesus Christ, the official new name of the organization. Elder Lawson would become the bishop of the organization, and he had the authority to appoint and remove pastors. Quite a few churches pulled out of the organization during this "revolution," which took place in the mid-1920s. However, those were mostly churches that Lawson himself had not started. Up and down the Eastern Seaboard were churches that were started, directly or indirectly by Elder -- now Bishop -- Lawson. They weren't going anywhere. Bishop Lawson was well-loved, even by the ministers and churches who left. (They were not comfortable with being sent from the churches they had sacrificed for, so they demurred.)

Clearly, authority in this new arrangement flowed principally from Bishop Lawson to his appointed ministers. Lawson was not stingy with opportunity, though. Young ministers, as young as 18, were sent to take charge of churches. As the organization grew and churches began to branch out in different parts of their various states, Bishop Lawson was eager to appoint bishops to oversee and encourage growth nationally. Young Smallwood Williams became bishop of the District of Columbia and Maryland. Another of Lawson's spiritual sons, Thomas Jefferson Richardson, would be appointed bishop of South Carolina, even while he pastored in New York.

There was one especially promising minister from North Carolina: Elder Sherrod C. Johnson. A commanding presence, Johnson was given charge of the Refuge Church of Christ in Philadelphia. He was one of the first men appointed as bishops in the organization; his oversight comprised Pennsylvania and North Carolina. A product of Lawson's Haywoodesque mentorship, Johnson was unusually well-versed in scripture. His charisma was equivalent to Lawson's own, but his sense of discipline was much, much firmer.

Lawson came into Pentecost when what was not expressly endorsed in scripture was taken to be unscriptural. This was not limited to Pentecostals, but certainly reflected the movement's biblicist Holiness roots. Choirs, musical accompaniment, and hymnals: Unscriptural. Eyeglasses, neckties, and jewelry: prideful, and unscriptural. Newspapers, secular education. religious education: unnecessary, and unscriptural. Bishop Lawson made it a point to cry against these prohibitions. He featured choirs and singing groups at his church, and installed an organ at 133rd St. Men could wear whatever color ties they pleased. Members were encouraged to get an education and a good job, and Lawson founded one of the earliest Pentecostal Bible schools to give sound training to his ministers. At times, Lawson, known to wear pince-nez glasses, could be found walking through 133rd St with several newspapers in the jacket pockets of his baggy suits.

That was all well and good, but Johnson had other bones to pick with Lawson. Women's clothing styles were changing, and Johnson felt that Bishop Lawson was much too lax. Conservative Southerner that he was, Johnson found resonance with many of Lawson's followers when he drew attention to the worldly styles that were coming in the church: make-up, pressed hair, and, perhaps most scandalously, open-toed shoes. Saints, in Johnson's opinion, were to continue the holiness of their forebears sartorially: dark colors, long dresses, high-top shoes, and natural face and hair. While Johnson's complaints were actually reflective of the practice of most of the Pentecostal movement at the time, in Johnson's estimation, the fact that an earring or open-toed shoe could make its way inside Refuge Temple unimpeded was evidence enough that Bishop Lawson was not the godly leader he claimed to be. Johnson -- Bishop Johnson -- pulled out and caused the first major schism of the Church of Our Lord Jesus Christ. He called his group the Church of the Lord Jesus Christ. 

Johnson's ultra-conservative following splintered after his death. Several descendants of that group -- the late Randolph Goodwin; Gino Jennings; Tony Smith -- became well-known either for their ultra-conservative dress code, or for their Johnson-like polemical preaching. To this day, long skirts, hats (or heavy veils) and cotton stockings are the mode of dress for women. High heels are not common, and open-toe shoes are altogether absent. Men wear dark suits (mainly black) and ties. Children's dress resembles that of their parents. This is not to say that Bishop Lawson's group was not also conservative; it would be more accurate to say that, despite the same tendencies in dress in Lawson's churches, there was much more flexibility in choice of color and other details relating to dress. (N.B.: Dress codes have historically been one of the primary cultural expressions of Pentecostal churches. You can tell a lot about a church's degree of discipline by looking for just one of the things mentioned in the above previous paragraphs.)

While the organization survived this split, Lawson came to the conclusion that his young ministers were getting the wrong impression about the term "bishop." If Johnson, not much older that Smallwood Williams, thought the title "bishop" gave him the authority to assail the character and reputation of the undisputed leader and founder, perhaps other ministers would follow Johnson's example and use ultimately unimportant disagreements in order to wrest a few churches from the organization. 

Shortly after the split, which occurred somewhere between 1930 and 1933, Bishop Lawson changed the title of bishop to overseer. Bishop Lawson understood that the terms were exchangeable, as both are used in scripture to translate the Greek word episkopos. Lawson himself would keep the title of bishop as "senior bishop with life tenure" of the Church of Our Lord Jesus Christ. Within the organization, parishioners would continue to refer to their state overseers as bishops. However, outsiders might be confused by the difference in official and unofficial nomenclature. Of course, the title "overseer" carried not the ring of "bishop." Lawson himself generally referred to them as "Elder So-and-so": elder, overseer, bishop, it was all the same to him, scripturally speaking. 

In retrospect, it is clear that this titular change did more to preserve Lawson's personal authority than it did to preserve the integrity of the organization. The person against whom Lawson was reacting -- Johnson -- had left and would not have taken correction, much less a demotion. From his Philadelphia pulpit (the one Lawson sent him to), Johnson challenged any and every one he could, claiming to be the only one preaching the whole truth. (He shared this characteristic with Bishop C. M. Grace, but that's another story...) He and Bishop Lawson clashed by way of radio. Johnson, however, a wealthy man later in life, ended up separating from his wife and children ... who were taken care of by Bishop Lawson. Lawson exposed news about his former protege on the radio in hopes of killing his influence.

Alas, none of Lawson's preaching or exposes could break Johnson's following. That would happen internally, and not because the women were tired of looking like "happy hooligans," to use Bishop Lawson's description of the outdated way Johnson's female disciples had to dress. Meanwhile, Lawson's own ministers were paying the debt that Johnson incurred. The title of "bishop" had been shelved for a much less prestigious, much more functional title of "overseer." I imagine that, given the similarity to AME state assignments, and given the unavoidable fellowship with the Church of God in Christ, where state bishops were also the norm, Lawson's overseers may have chafed at the fact that so simple a thing as the title bishop was being withheld. Clearly, COOLJC's overseers were the counterpart to bishops in other episcopal organizations. Nevertheless, presenting yourself as "Overseer So-and-so" when you knew you were really a bishop, or worthy of the title at least, must have felt at least a little humiliating. 

Additionally, the bishop, the one who assigned you the task of overseeing a whole state at your own charges, was just as likely to call you by a much more general title, elder. How could Bishop Lawson have been so oblivious to his ministers' discontent? We'll explore Lawson's understanding of the office of bishop in an upcoming article, but let's look back at two other organizations that were emerged from Lawson's movement.

A Look Back: Rags to Riches

Robert C. Lawson had a gift for organizing churches and taking the gospel and the Pentecostal message to untouched territory. He installed pastors and sent missionaries to parishes all over the world. He traveled quite a bit himself and endured many dangers for the sake of the gospel. He was one of Harlem's shining stars. One European minister, visiting Massachusetts, made a special trip to Harlem after hearing Bishop Lawson on the radio, complementing him on his ministerial accomplishments, in spite of racial oppression. Ebony listed him among the most influential preachers of Harlem.

While Lawson was having his day, many of the ministers he oversaw were doing the difficult work of building the churches he started. Some of them had to take second jobs to make ends meet; financial support was not a guarantee. While Bishop Lawson's star was rising, he seemed all but oblivious to the growing dissatisfaction with his way of doing things.

One exchange that essentially captures his leadership style came in the form of an answer to a question someone posed:

QUESTION 48: To what do you largely attribute your success?

ANSWER: To finding God's will concerning myself and others, abiding in it, and constraining others to do likewise. (Defense, 441)

"Constraining" other ministers to labor in anonymity and impecunity certainly seems harsh, but Lawson was only holding his ministers to the same standard he had been held to. His ascent to acclaim and affluence had not been on a bed of ease.

Lawson lost both his parents at a young age and was raised by an aunt. He spent some time at the Howe Institute, a boarding school in New Iberia, and it appears that his life was what we might consider middle class. As a young man, he traveled the continent, drinking, gambling, playing piano and singing the blues in night clubs. When he contracted tuberculosis, his good times came to an end. His conversion was the last nail in the coffin of his old life. Saved, unemployed, and not long after called to the ministry, Brother Lawson was broke. G.T. Haywood's daughter recalls him purchasing a bicycle early on in his ministry. Before then, he would walk everywhere he went, and even had to put cardboard in his shoes when he wore out the soles. Because Indianapolis was a big city with public transportation, we can assume he couldn't afford to pay the little travel fare it would cost to go to the market where he would preach outdoors.

Lawson became established in ministry, and his reputation as a preacher grew. He converted an entire congregation to the Oneness Pentecostal view of the Godhead, and traveled here and there starting missions that eventually grew into stable congregations, throughout the Midwest. Eventually he settled down in Columbus, Ohio, where he founded a church that took up where another mission had begun. That church grew and grew, but he wasn't there long when he felt called to go to New York City to start a work. He got there by preaching from church to church, and finally arrived in Manhattan with five cents in his pocket. Miraculously, he met a man on his way to a prayer meeting, and joining a few believers in a basement on 40th Street, he found his opportunity to begin a work there. As he did in Indianapolis, he preached on the street, among what would be termed the least desirable elements of the city. Two couples opened their shared townhouse to him, and a church was born.

Elder and Sister Lawson, ca. 1918

Elder Lawson didn't start out with a car, nice clothes, or even his own home. He preached on the streets by day, conducted services by night, and baptized as many as desired in the East River. A thin man for most of his life, the baggy suits he wore indicate a modest income at best. When the house church grew to about 200 congregants, Lawson found real estate on one of the worst blocks of Harlem. People who knew 133rd Street nicknamed it Beale Street, because it was just as violent and crime-ridden as Beale Street in Memphis. Here Lawson preached, prayed, and lived, housing himself, his family, and other church workers in the church building. The effect this arrangement had on the block was such that the street got a new nickname: Hallelujah Boulevard. Lawson opened businesses -- a grocery store, a bookstore, a daycare -- up and down the block, generating income for him, his parishioners, and the church.

Not long after, opportunities opened to Lawson to spread the gospel by way of radio. He initially went down to the radio station (perhaps daily) and preached from the studio. However, a new invention allowed for radio broadcasts to be made remotely, and Lawson's church was the first to hold on-air radio broadcasts. From there, his work went national, and the rest is history.

No one had financed his evangelistic trips. What money he received was due to the kindness of the people who supported him. Being a general superintendent of the Pentecostal Assemblies of the World had only provided him with a charge and the authority to travel in the name of an organization; whatever his needs were, they were addressed day by day, service by service. When he arrived in New York, he built and enriched the church, not the other way around.

Everyone knew his story, and certainly many aspired to duplicate his success in their own lives. In time, focus began to condense around something that Lawson had that his subordinates could not easily acquire: the title of "bishop." As we return to the story of the Bible Way schism, we'll examine how Lawson manipulated the use of ecclesiastical titles for disciplinary purposes.

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.