John R. Rice, Jr., and his publication Sword of the Lord, are familiar names to those with even the most remote connection to Christian fundamentalism in the United States. From the battles in the 1920s between fundamentalists and modernists to the startling rise of a “moral majority” in the 1970s, the iconic Rice, who died more than thirty years ago, was a significant player. Rice’s grandson, Andrew Himes, has created a work that is a creative amalgam of personal memoir, family genealogy, religious history and cultural critique.
For the first few chapters, I questioned the effectiveness of this mélange of genre. With historical references carefully cited in a broad sweep of the relevant literature, it was at first a bit disarming to observe the weaving together of personal story and family history conjecture. Early on (page 27, for example), Himes writes of the Scottish-Irish settlers of Appalachia and their emerging connections with the American Revolution. In the midst of historical data is his assertion, “On Tuesday morning, September 26, 1780, John Rice Sr. joined over 1,100 fellow citizen soldiers, who became known as the Overmountain men.” Within sentences the author writes of a “Sword of the Lord” sermon preached by one Reverend Doak, implying that his forbear was present. There is no documentation to this claim, not even a reference to family legend. This makes a clever connection between the book’s title and continual theme, but needs more explication for it not to seem overly contrived.
On the other hand, as the reader ventures forward into the more than 300 pages of text, the author’s approach takes on depth and meaning. The human interest nature of memoir, combined with family insights of a fundamentalist patriach, seem to work together rather convincingly. Grandson Andrew becomes disenchanted with his family’s version of Christian faith by his mid-adolescence, breaks his parents’ and grandparents’ hearts, and eventually, after years of personal and family estrangement, finds spiritual peace. Personal memoir enlivens an already compelling historical and spiritual saga.
This volume has many strengths; for instance, Himes’s treatment of fundamentalism is remarkably even-handed. His “Why We Care About Fundamentalism” offers a fine defense of his thesis. Especially insightful is his social critique of racism, its connections with the South and its enduring, painful legacy. Perhaps his best work is in carefully distinguishing nuances among fundamentalist leaders of old: Frank Norris, John Rice, Billy Graham, Bob Jones (Sr. and Jr.) all receive fair shrift, precise documentation with primary materials, as well as appropriate critique.
By the time I finished the final pages I was surprised. As a mainline pastor with few positive connections to fundamentalism, I have a much deeper understanding of its history and of its contributions (positive and negative) to our current cultural milieu. I leave the book with a bit of sadness. Himes’s personal memoir, which at first I had found a bit disorienting, captured my interest. It makes me want to know more about the author’s personal journey of spiritual transformation. There are allusions to his experience, but I am left longing for more. Perhaps this intrigue is the genius of a multi-genre work such as The Sword of the Lord. What could have been a dry, academic treatment of a religious movement or a highly personalized genealogical account becomes enfleshed in another’s journey to understanding. And that kind of journey has universal appeal.
