45. Clarence Edward Macartney (1879–1957)
45
Clarence Edward Macartney
1879–1957
Traditionally, almost every Scottish ministry couple wanted one of their sons to become a preacher, and John and Catherine Macartney were no exception. God answered their prayers “exceedingly abundantly,” because three of their sons were called into the ministry, and the fourth and youngest is known to Christian preachers and teachers around the world.
Clarence Edward Macartney was born on September 18, 1879, in Northwood, Ohio, into a Reformed Presbyterian family. His parents came to America from Scotland. Peter Marshall, chaplain of the United States Senate (1947–49), used to say, “If you want to become a great preacher, you must arrange to be born in Scotland.” (Campbell Morgan and Martyn Lloyd-Jones opted for Wales.) Clarence’s father was not only a minister, but also an educator, and served as principal of a high school and then professor of mathematics at the college in New Concord, Ohio. When Clarence was nine months old, the college relocated to Beaver Falls, Pennsylvania, and the family moved into “Fern Cliffe,” a commodious house that was just right for raising a large family. All his life, Macartney remembered those delightful Fern Cliffe years and thanked God for them.
Clarence’s mother was the strongest influence in his life. She was from sturdy Covenanter stock, and everyone who spoke of her called her “a remarkable woman.” Not only did she faithfully care for her own family, but she also sought out and helped people who needed special encouragement and care, a trait that appeared years later in her youngest son’s pastoral ministry. Unlike some pastors in his own day (and certainly in our day), each week he invested two or three evenings and three or four afternoons in visiting his people. Mention visitation to most preachers today, and they will smile and say, “We’re not into that.” But like Robert Murray McCheyne and Phillips Brooks, Macartney never married, so he was free from the “many troubles” Paul wrote about in 1 Corinthians 7:28 and could devote more time to church responsibilities.
John Macartney’s health declined, and their doctor recommended that the family move to California. They lived there for two years and Clarence attended Pomona College. There he developed a passion for baseball and even became captain of the team. But there was also a strong religious influence on campus. He heard singer George C. Stebbins, who composed “Saved By Grace,” and also D. L. Moody’s associate Ira D. Sankey, who sang “The Ninety and Nine” for the students. His second year at college, a fellow student died and Clarence was one of the pallbearers. He confessed that it was “a very solemn occasion.” God uses a variety of experiences to mold and make his servants, but at the time, we may not realize it.
Clarence never forgot the inscription on the memorial gateway at the entrance of the campus: “Let only the eager, thoughtful and reverent enter here.” Years later he quoted the statement in his sermon “Horses to Those who Can Ride” and commented, “Perhaps the time will come when less attention will be paid to the scholarly qualifications of a graduate, and more to the qualifications of character, for entrance and matriculation.”1 Nor did he forget the words inscribed on the other side of the gateway: “They only are loyal to this college who, departing, bear their added riches in trust for mankind.” Thanks to his published sermons, Clarence Edward Macartney is still adding riches to God’s church.
The California climate didn’t help John Macartney’s health as much as they had hoped, so he decided the family would move to Denver. Clarence stayed in California to complete his courses at Pomona College and to prepare for university, but he still wasn’t certain about his life’s vocation. At the suggestion of two of his brothers, he enrolled in the University of Wisconsin, receiving his BA in 1901. We aren’t sure how much young Clarence was thinking about the ministry during those early years, but his mother constantly had the matter on her heart and in her prayers.
After graduating from the University of Wisconsin, Clarence took a year off to work as a reporter for a county newspaper. He called the job “a most important chapter in my training for the work of my life,” for it taught him to gather facts, organize them, and write them clearly and concisely. About that time, his mother wrote to one of his brothers, “I never knew anyone who was so clearly marked for the pulpit as Clarence, if only the Lord would put grace into his heart.”
The Lord did put that grace into his heart, and after his year at the newspaper he headed for Princeton University, where he received his MA in 1904. The next step was Princeton Theological Seminary, where he entered as a member of the junior class and graduated in 1905 with his Bachelor of Divinity degree. The seminary had a stellar faculty, including noted Old Testament scholar Dr. Robert Dick Wilson, who was proficient in over twenty languages. Dr. Wilson was a stalwart defender of the faith, and in 1929 he left Princeton Seminary and joined J. Gresham Machen in founding Westminster Seminary.
But let’s backtrack a bit. The summer following his first year at seminary, Clarence was invited to be the summer minister of the Presbyterian Church in the little town of Prairie du Sac, Wisconsin. He would be paid fifty dollars a month, and during those summer months would have numerous pastoral opportunities to help prepare him for his final year at seminary. He accepted the invitation and was determined to follow the two precepts given to the students by Dr. David J. Burrell, celebrated pastor of Marble Collegiate Church on Fifth Avenue in New York City: always have a clear outhne, and never preach with notes or from a manuscript. During his more than fifty years of ministry, Dr. Macartney never departed from those guidelines; in fact, years later he wrote a book called Preaching without Notes, first published in 1946 and reprinted in 1976 by Baker Books. Only one chapter deals with the theme of the title, but the other five chapters build toward that theme and contain valuable counsel for every preacher.
Serving the church that summer was indeed a challenge. He had few books with him, there was no library in the little town, and he was determined, with God’s help, to serve as though he would remain there the rest of his life. He was not on vacation. He had two sermons with him, one on Judas Iscariot and the other on John 12:24, and he confessed that “had it not been for the Old Testament characters, I would have gone into pulpit bankruptcy.” Once again, God was equipping him for his future ministry, for the name Clarence Edward Macartney should immediately remind the well-read pastor or layman of biblical biographical preaching.
Shortly after graduation from seminary in 1905, Macartney accepted a call from First Presbyterian Church in Patterson, New Jersey, where he served for nine years. From 1914 to 1927, he served Arch Street Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia, and it was during that pastorate that he became involved in the “Fundamentalist/Modernist Controversy” triggered by the preaching of Harry Emerson Fosdick at First Presbyterian Church in New York City. Fosdick was known for his liberal theology and persuasive preaching. In his autobiography The Living of These Days, Fosdick said that Macartney’s “theological position was in my judgment incredible,” but that Macartney himself was “decent and dignified in his attitude . . . fair-minded and courteous.”2 Fosdick had been attacked viciously from the pulpit and in print by certain Fundamentalist leaders who had not been entirely Christian in their approach, and Macartney’s candor and courtesy impressed him.
Fosdick had preached a sermon entitled “Shall the Fundamentalists Win?” which denied many of the cardinal doctrines of the Christian faith. The sermon was printed and distributed widely. In his autobiography, Fosdick claimed that the sermon was “a plea for goodwill,”3 but how could devout Christians see “goodwill” in the preacher’s denial of the virgin birth of Christ and the blood atonement? Macartney preached a sermon entitled “Shall Unbelief Win?” which was also printed and widely circulated. (One of Macartney’s friends said, “He is not a contentious man, but he is a conscientious man.”) In October 1922, at the meeting of the Philadelphia Presbytery, Macartney presented an address to the Presbytery of New York from the Presbytery of Philadelphia, graciously requesting that the preaching at First Presbyterian Church of New York City conform to the doctrinal standards of the Presbyterian Church. Fosdick was an ordained Baptist minister serving as “stated pulpit supply” in a Presbyterian church, and he ought to respect the fact that he was a guest in the pulpit.
But Dr. Fosdick wasn’t disturbed by these negative reactions. “I am profoundly sorry that the sermon has been misinterpreted,” he wrote to a friend; “I am profoundly sorry that it has caused a disturbance; but I cannot honestly be sorry at all that I preached the sermon. When I get to heaven I expect it to be one of the stars in my crown.”4 A great deal of public debate and denominational discussion followed. Fosdick did resign from his ministry at First Presbyterian Church and in 1924 Macartney was elected moderator of the Presbyterian General Assembly, but the differences between the modernists and the fundamentalists had not really been faced or solved. J. Gresham Machen led the conservatives in establishing Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia, as well as The Independent Board for Presbyterian Foreign Missions, and was in danger of being tried as a schismatic. Macartney offered his services as counsel but Machen graciously refused on the grounds that he did not want to be acquitted. He seceded from the denomination and founded the Orthodox Presbyterian Church. At Westminster Seminary, Machen helped to train many ministers, and his two masterpieces, The Virgin Birth of Christ and The Origin of Paul’s Religion, still instruct thinking believers today.
In 1927, Macartney accepted the call to the strategic First Presbyterian Church in Pittsburg, Pennsylvania, where he remained until 1953. There he followed the same pattern that had been so successful in Patterson and Philadelphia, preaching sermon series on biblical doctrines and personalities and also preaching what he called “sermons from life.” He was a master of what we today call “narrative preaching,” and knew how to relate biblical events and persons to contemporary life.
In spite of his Scottish heritage, he was not an expository preacher, although his sermons were based solidly on Scripture and he did his homework well. He was more of a topical-textual preacher, using biblical events and characters as the framework for the message. No matter what the text or the topic, Macartney was always evangelistic and declared the good news of the gospel week after week. Billy Sunday’s music director, Homer Rodeheaver, told Macartney that if he would devote all his time to evangelism, he could be the greatest evangelist of the century.
There were occasions when he preached against social evils such as liquor advertising, Sabbath desecration, vice, political corruption, and indecent movies. These messages were always based on Scripture. In his sermons, he aimed for simplicity, a clearly stated theme and outhne, memorable illustrations, and application to life. One of his rules was, “Put all the Bible into it that you can.”
This is a good place for a story that comes out of his visitation ministry while in Pittsburgh. He and an assistant had visited in perhaps a dozen homes one afternoon before stopping to see a British lady who attended First Presbyterian Church. They were sitting comfortably by the fireside chatting when Macartney fell fast asleep in his chair. The lady of the house addressed a question to him and there was no answer. The assistant called out, “Doctor!” Macartney opened his eyes and said to his assistant, “How many, Jimmy?” referring to the number of calls they had made. This had nothing to do with the lady’s question, but she was unperturbed, and Macartney hid his laughter by bending over and petting the cat.
Even if he did fall asleep during one visit, Macartney’s philosophy of pastoral visitation was a sound one: “I feel that before I preach, I must irrigate my soul with the joys and sorrows of my people.” I might add that he had a good sense of humor, but rarely used it in the pulpit. To his Scottish soul, preaching was serious business, and a preacher never knew when he would give his last sermon.
Although he ministered to everyone, Macartney was recognized as a man’s preacher. In 1930 he started the “Tuesday Noon Club for Businessmen” with only twelve men, and it grew to a total membership of two thousand, with an average weekly attendance of eight hundred. The men gathered at the church at 11:30 for lunch, and at 12:25 were led in a spirited hymnsing for ten minutes. The male chorus then sang, and at 12:40 Macartney would speak for ten minutes. He said that those addresses were “straight-forward gospel and scriptural messages, but always adapted to the daily battle of the soul.” He could have invited guest preachers to speak, but he wanted to get to know the men and make sure they had opportunities to trust Jesus Christ. Macartney preached five times a week and was rarely away from his own pulpit, and he especially sought to make the Sunday evening services special. Several of his sermon books grew out of the Sunday evening series.
Apart from his ministry, one of his interests was American history in general and Abraham Lincoln in particular. Though he was never recognized as a professional historian, he was highly respected for his knowledge and for the books he wrote in those fields, the first of which was Lincoln and His Generals. He also wrote Lincoln and His Cabinet and Lincoln and His Bible. He made what he called “pilgrimages” to Civil War battlefields, and the result was Highways and Byways of the Civil War. He wrote biographies of generals McClellan and Grant. He frequently used Civil War events as illustrations in his sermons.
During his busy ministerial career, Macartney published fifty-seven books, most of them collections of his sermons. While at Arch Street Presbyterian Church in Philadelphia, on October 10, 1915, he first preached the sermon “Come Before Winter.” Based on 2 Timothy
4:9 and 21, the sermon calls for the wise use of opportunities and has a strong evangelistic emphasis. The sermon was received with such enthusiasm that he preached it annually at both Arch Street and First Presbyterian, Pittsburgh, and gave it frequently when he was a guest preacher elsewhere. The record shows that he preached the message more than forty times. In his book Preaching without Notes, he encouraged ministers not to “throw away” their efforts but to reuse messages that the Lord had especially blessed—but never, of course, as an excuse for laziness.
During his ministerial career, Macartney was offered professorial chairs in preaching, but he said that he would rather preach himself than try to tell others how to preach. He did deliver lectures in various schools, but his own example in the pulpit was his best instruction. In his autobiography The Making of a Minister, he wrote: “If I had my ministry to commence over again, I would devote more time to prayer, meditation, and the study of the Bible, although my preaching has been entirely on the Bible. I would take more time off, too, and not run the risk to health which I have run through too-long hours of work by day and by night.”5 Blessed are the balanced!
One of my uncles was vice president of a steel foundry in the Chicago area and an officer in the National Foundryman’s Association, and he often had to go to Pittsburgh for meetings. He always arranged to be free on Sundays so he could attend First Presbyterian Church and hear Clarence Edward Macartney preach. His reports to us were exciting. “Dr. Macartney just stands there on the platform, Bible in hand, no notes, no manuscript, and talks to us like a friend. Hearing him preach is the best part of my trip.”
How I wish I had been there!