None of this is to defend the cruelties associated with slavery. It is simply to say that Brown’s response was the wrong one, and that we should neither approve it nor celebrate him. Brown was celebrated for his militancy, and he seems to have regarded such militancy as the proper fruit of the Christian faith.

In 1860 a newspaper called The Christian Watchman and Reflector published a series of letters from Charles Spurgeon, in one of which he denied rumors that the American publishers of his works excised material that might be offensive to slaveholders. Highly perturbed at the suggestion, Spurgeon said, amongst other things, that “any slaveholder who should show himself in our neighborhood would get a mark which he would carry to his grave, if it did not carry him there.” He finished the letter in view by saying that “John Brown is immortal in the memories of the good in England, and in my heart he lives.” Here we have a minister of the gospel with a high reputation and wide influence expressing his opinion with such fervor as to descend into talk of his neighbors possibly murdering foreign citizens and praising an insurrectionist.
This is of interest because the statement in view is cited as proof that many evangelicals condemned slavery at the same time that many southern Protestants were defending it. It is certainly proof of that sober truth, though there are plenty of other sources that make the same point that lack the regrettable character of Mr. Spurgeon’s statement here. To be sure, he did not say that he would approve such lawless violence, much less that he would participate; and it is conceivable that Victorian era Englishmen were not quite as prone to waylaying foreigners as Mr. Spurgeon suggests. It could be that he was so caught up in a fit of high dudgeon that he wrote more boldly than was warranted, and that the talk of lawless violence was idle banter.
Whatever the case, it was not in accord with the duty of his office to speak in such a manner, and it is a point of curiosity that contemporary critics of 1800s southern evangelical attitudes about slavery so readily latch upon examples such as this. Such critics are quick to point at the perceived hypocrisy of claiming Christ while at the same time defending a civil institution that oppressed its participants and was often attended by great physical cruelty. And so in finding grounds to condemn the violence and hypocrisy of slaveholding they . . . . latch upon examples of evangelicals mentioning violence approvingly.
This is a strange method, surely, and it goes far to undermine the critics’ own moral authority. Why, pray tell, do we consider slavery wrong? Is it not because it does violence to the dignity of its unwilling participants, holding them in bondage and subjecting them, in many cases, to harsh punishments for flight or disobedience? Is it not because of the chain and the lash, the separation of families and the prohibition of literacy, and because of all the other things that denied equal protection and rights under the law and reduced slaves to being a permanent under caste? Is it not because the whole institution denied them their rights as human beings whose nature is no different from that of people of other classes and ethnicities? Why then would it be any less evil to do similar things to other people, including slaveholders or people who are citizens or public officials of places where slavery was legal? Mistreatment is wrong regardless of who does it or why, and our Lord forbids vengeance (Lev. 19:18; Deut. 32:35; Rom. 12:19; Heb. 10:30) and prohibits former victims of oppression oppressing others in turn (Ex. 22:21; comp. Deut. 23:7).
It is here that John Brown enters the question. Many people in his day regarded him as a hero with few equals, and after his death he was hailed as a martyr and prophet, Henry David Thoreau saying that he had become “an angel of light” and a popular camp tune saying that he was “John the Baptist of the Christ we are to see.” That enthusiasm has not dimmed, it seems, for Christianity Today has published an article urging the glad acceptance of Brown as an evangelical hero.
John Brown was hanged for treason and murder for leading the seizure of the federal arsenal at Harpers Ferry, Virginia (now West Virginia) as part of a scheme to forcibly abolish slavery in the southern states. Brown’s plan was to use his action to incite slaves in the surrounding areas to flee their masters and join his forces, after which they would march southward, collecting men and materiel as they went. Ostensibly his forces would fight only in self-defense if accosted.
That last bit makes for a large claim to swallow when we remember that Brown had already attained national notoriety for organizing private militants in the Bleeding Kansas crisis earlier in the 1850s. Brown had presided over the Pottawatomie Massacre, in which five men had been hacked to death in what can only be considered cold-blooded murder. The other facts are also against interpreting his plan and actions as a scheme of fomenting an armed-but-purely-defensive insurrection, such as that two of the five men his band killed at Harpers Ferry were unarmed. One was the mayor, the other a free black man who was the first victim and who was shot in the back. If these killings were against Brown’s intentions, as has been suggested, they nonetheless suggest that he had poor control over his force that he had trained for his occupation of the arsenal; and it is hard to imagine that he would have had any better control over the multitudes of strangers whom he expected to rally to his standard.
It is likely that arming large numbers of escaped slaves, whatever Brown’s ostensible intention, would have led to aggression and even the wanton taking of vengeance on their part. Virginia’s earlier slave revolt 28 years before (Nat Turner’s) had been attended by the killing of civilians, including women and children. It is simply not human nature for spontaneous mobs to act only in self-defense and to eschew all criminal and vengeful tendencies. And notwithstanding that Brown attempted to give legitimacy to his efforts by establishing a ‘provisional government’ replete with offices and constitution, what Brown actually attempted, whether he realized it or not, was to foment an enormous mob, probably the largest in the history of the country. Had he succeeded he would have been culpable for any excesses that such a mob committed, but as it was he gained very little support.
There is another fault with such an argument, which is that it is generally a principle of law that one cannot provoke resistance by threats or assault and then use force to repel the violence that ensues: the initial provocation makes one the aggressor, so that every subsequent action is a furtherance of the aggression and cannot be justified as defensive. Brown was the aggressor in the Harpers Ferry affair, for he started it by seizing the arsenal, and then continued it by taking hostages and preventing the lawful authorities from repossessing it or rescuing them. When it was then claimed that his subsequent fighting with state and federal forces was in self-defense (as his defense attempted at his trial), the claim is null – and more than a little brazen and absurd.
One cannot break into someone’s house and take him captive, and then say that he acted in self-defense by firing at the police when they surrounded the house. All notion of self-defense goes out the window when one first commences his criminal venture. And yet that is essentially what Brown did, except that he acted not merely against a single private individual and domicile, but against an entire commonwealth and its populace.
I have no desire to impugn the faith or integrity of those who have lionized Brown through the decades. Indeed, anyone who would allow that Spurgeon remark above to dissuade him from reading Spurgeon appreciatively would be doing himself an enormous disservice, for flights of indignation notwithstanding, Spurgeon was greatly used by God and is well worth reading. Remarks like that above are drowned out by the enormous quantities of edifying material he produced: it is as a flake of chaff in an ocean of grace.
But I do think that such people, be they past or present, are sorely mistaken on this point. There is nothing in the New Testament that justifies fomenting armed rebellion. Romans 13 says, “Let every person be subject to the governing authorities” and “whoever resists the authorities resists what God has appointed, and those who resist will incur judgment.” Granting the institution of southern slavery was evil, it does not follow that it should have been countered by violent force. “Repay no one evil for evil, but give thought to do what is honorable in the sight of all” (Rom. 12:17). Evil must be opposed righteously; and fomenting rebellion that was likely to lead to widespread bloodshed cannot be deemed righteous. It is in direct contradiction of the commands to “live peaceably with all” and “overcome evil with good” (12:18, 21).
And in the outcome of Brown’s misadventure at Harpers Ferry we see the wisdom of our Lord’s instructions on this point. Brown’s insurrection failed utterly. He gained only a handful of supporters among the local slave population; succeeded in getting himself, many of his men, and several citizens killed; and further aggravated the already tense relations between North and South, ultimately playing an important role in provoking secession and the subsequent war that killed more than 620,000 men.
Over against all this we must remember that Christ’s kingdom is not of this world, and that he did not come to establish it by means of force (Jn. 18:36). When someone mentioned an example of Pilate’s cruelty toward the Jews (including sacrilegious murder), Christ declined to cry aloud for temporal justice and instead urged his hearers to take heed for their souls and repent while they had time (Lk. 13:1-3). His way is not the way of social revolution, but of patient long-suffering (Matt. 5:39) and of repaying evil with good (Lk. 6:28; Rom. 12:14, 20; 1 Pet. 3:9). Those who, like Brown, attempt to find in Christ’s message a justification for armed revolution contradict the essence of that message, and many of its particulars (2 Tim. 2:24; Tit. 3:1-2; Heb. 12:14; Jas. 3:17).
None of this is to defend the cruelties associated with slavery. It is simply to say that Brown’s response was the wrong one, and that we should neither approve it nor celebrate him. Brown was celebrated for his militancy, and he seems to have regarded such militancy as the proper fruit of the Christian faith. In his speech at his conviction he appealed to Scripture as justifying his actions:
Court acknowledges, too, as I suppose, the validity of the law of God. I see a book kissed, which I suppose to be the Bible, or at least the New Testament, which teaches me that all things whatsoever I would that men should do to me, I should do even so to them. It teaches me further to remember them that are in bonds as bound with them. I endeavored to act up to that instruction.
When someone celebrates Brown he is therefore celebrating a man who contradicted the teaching of Scripture under the guise of fulfilling it. Against this, consider these words and ponder whether John Brown’s behavior accords with them: “Whoever says he abides in him [Christ] ought to walk in the same way in which he walked” (1 Jn. 2:6). Christ walked in the way of works of mercy and witness, and his death redeemed the souls of many. Brown walked in the way of the sword and came to the end which Christ predicted of those who do so (Matt. 26:52), and his death brought not peace but division and strife and a war that consumed multitudes. It is no part of our faith to honor such a man, and the scriptural data abundantly point the other way.
Tom Hervey is a member of Woodruff Road Presbyterian Church, Five Forks (Simpsonville), SC. The opinions expressed in this article are solely those of the author and do not of necessity reflect those of his church or its leadership or other members. He welcomes comments at the email address provided with his name. He is also author of Reflections on the Word: Essays in Protestant Scriptural Contemplation. 
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Her main focus was on education. Together with her sisters, she opened a Sunday School for the poor. At a time when there were no public schools, they provided both biblical instruction and basic general education. One school led to another until, within ten years, they had sixteen school in operation. Hannah wrote many of the books used in the schools. Against the mores of her time, she encouraged equal education for boys and girls. 

She has been described as the most influential woman in the British abolitionist movement – in fact, one of the most important women in 18th-century Britain. After her death in 1833, the Christian Observer dared to say: “What William Wilberforce was among men, Hannah More was among women.”
But her influence went beyond the sphere of social reforms. Her emphasis on education, particularly for the poor and for women, with her clear specifications on its goals, had a tremendous impact in Western society and in the church.
A Talented Woman
Hannah More was born on 2 February 1745 at Fishponds, north of Bristol, the fourth of five daughters. Her father Jacob, a schoolmaster, made sure that his daughters received a good education.
From the start, Hannah displayed an exceptional intelligence. By her late teens, she was already a teacher at the boarding school she had attended – a school her father had started and her sisters were managing. A lover of theatre, she wrote her first play, A Search for Happiness, before she turned eighteen. The play was later published and widely read.
In 1767, Hannah accepted a proposal of marriage from a wealthy country gentleman, William Turner, who was twenty years her senior. Perennially undecided, Turner postponed their wedding three times until, in 1773, he broke their engagement.
British law included provisions for such circumstances, since a long engagement took a woman beyond the normal marriageable age. Initially, Hannah declined the annuity offered by Turner but she eventually accepted a smaller amount, £200 – still a large sum in those days. Since this allowed her financial security and independence, Hannah decided not to marry.
By then, she was still bent on writing for the theatre. During her many trips to London, she came in contact with important artists, authors, actors, and politicians. Her most important friendship was with actor, playwright, and producer David Garrick, who sponsored and directed her highly successful play, Percy. From all indications, Hannah was on her way to stardom.
She soon became disillusioned with the empty lifestyle of the theatrical world. After Garrick’s death, she began to detach herself from it.
Finding Her Calling
In London, Hannah attended the church pastored by the renowned John Newton, whose writings she had come to admire. After conversing with him, she returned home with tens of copies of his sermons. She continued to correspond with him for the rest of his life.
Through Newton, she also met the young William Wilberforce, who encouraged her to use her talents for the good of others. He also introduced her to the Clapham community, a group of socially minded Christians, which included many leaders in the abolition movement. They influenced her commitment to evangelism and assistance to the needy. Apparently, she was the first woman involved in the abolitionist movement. Her contribution was mainly through pamphlets and poetry. She also sponsored the publication of Olaudah Equiano’s account of his life as a slave, and promoted the boycott of slave-grown sugar.
But her main focus was on education. Together with her sisters, she opened a Sunday School for the poor. At a time when there were no public schools, they provided both biblical instruction and basic general education. One school led to another until, within ten years, they had sixteen school in operation.
Hannah wrote many of the books used in the schools. Against the mores of her time, she encouraged equal education for boys and girls. This meant that, while girls had equal instruction in the academic subjects, boys were included in knitting and sewing lessons.
She also cared deeply for her students and their families. She advocated for a method of teaching that was engaging and inspiring. “Though serious instruction will not only be uninteresting but irksome if conveyed to youth in a mere didactic way, yet if their affections are suitably engaged, their hearts, so far from necessarily revolting, as some insist they will, often receive the most solemn truths with alacrity,”[1] she said.
Her care for her students was mirrored in the dedication of her friends and the teachers she employed.

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Written by O. Palmer Robertson |
Tuesday, September 26, 2023
In the end, the PCA did something that no other denomination had ever done before. “Committees of commissioners” were created to oversee the work of the permanent committees. In this manner, the presbyteries as courts of the church oversee the work of the committees through the ruling and teaching elders working as committees of commissioners. The courts of the church, not the committees or the administrators, lead the church. The presbyteries, the sessions, and the General Assembly as courts of the church will determine the future of the church.

Editors’ note: 
This article was adapted from an address originally presented at the 50th General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in America. You may also read and download this article in PDF format.
I had the great privilege of being among the delegates to the first General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA), which was formed 50 years ago at Briarwood Presbyterian Church in Birmingham, Alabama. This current anniversary celebration provides an opportunity to think back to our origins and consider how those origins might point us toward our future as the Presbyterian Church in America, one among many true churches of our Lord Jesus Christ worldwide.
Consider three essential elements of the PCA’s past that will guide our future.
1. Bible
The PCA came into existence because its founders believed the Bible was “the only infallible rule” of what you are to believe and how you are to live. The Word of God alone is capable of creating among sinners a body of people that may be presented to Christ as a “pure virgin” (2 Cor. 11:2). Nothing else has the power to sanctify the church of the Lord Jesus Christ other than the Bible.
We have our secondary standards: the Westminster Confession of Faith and Catechisms. These beloved standards are essential to our life together. But let us never forget that our primary standard is the Bible and the Bible alone. If our church is ever to have peace and unity, it can only be achieved by the common commitment of all that are involved to a glad acceptance of what the Bible as the Word of God says.
We proud Presbyterians might benefit a little by humbling ourselves and learning from our Baptist brothers. Consider Billy Graham, the son of a North Carolina farmer, a good old Tar Heel. He was the counselor to five consecutive presidents of the United States. He preached to the Queen of England, and the rumor in England is that the queen was converted to true Christianity through his preaching. He lectured to the intellectuals at Oxford University. In one sermon, he preached to over a million people in Seoul, South Korea.
What was the trademark of the ministry of Billy Graham, our Baptist brother? If you ever heard him preach, you will never forget. Gesturing to an open Bible stretched forward to his hearers, he slashes the air with his hand and declares, “The Bible says!”
2. Confession
In the old denomination, the Presbyterian Church in the United States (PCUS), commonly known as the southern presbyterian church, persistent efforts were made to get rid of the Westminster Confession of Faith, or at least to water it down.
The PCA was born, in part, because we could not live in a denomination that no longer held to the Westminster Confession of Faith as its authoritative statement of what we believed.
The first General Assembly of the PCA adopted a message to the watching world. At the bottom of that statement, you will find 296 signatures of ruling and teaching elders. If you’re interested, you can find my signature in column two. But what is it that we wanted to communicate to the world by this statement?
We declare that we believe the system of doctrine found in the Word of God to be the system known as the Reformed faith. We are committed without reservation to the Reformed faith as set forth in the Westminster Confession and Catechisms. (emphasis added)
Compare this statement of our faith to the beautiful wool sweater you bought while you were visiting Scotland. Your precious sweater has one dangling thread that’s come loose.
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