My talk today is on the life and ministry of J. Gresham Machen. There is much about the man worthy of our admiration. But my interest in him was sparked by a quotation: "I love Dr. Machen--said one of his contemporaries--for the enemies he makes". There was a certain kind of person irresistibly attracted to Machen, and another kind, equally repulsed.

But do you know what distinguished the one from the other? It does not seem to be doctrinal sympathy. For some of his bitterest foes agreed with him, while some of his staunchest admirerers abhorred his every belief.

The issue was something else, something sorely lacking in this day and age: character. For whatever one said about Machen, everyone felt the power of his integrity. He gave up his place in a big and prosperous church to found one, tiny and struggling. He exchanged the ivy clad walls of Princeton for the old, rundown house that would become Westminster. He attacked an ecclesiastical machine, knowing he had no chance for success. In short, he gave up the fame and prestige to which he was born to follow Christ, "outside the gate, bearing His reproach".

Honest men (of whatever creed) admired him for his integrity. But those who preferred to negotiate with conscience and live a lie felt exposed in his presence, and became nothing short of hysterical in their opposition to him.

But how did Machen come to such a place in life? Let's see.

John Gresham Machen was born, 1881, in Baltimore, Maryland. His family exemplified the best of Southern Civilization. They were wealthy, dignified, educated, and religious. They deeply loved their children, sparing no expense to see to their moral and intellectual upbringing. Mrs. Machen was particularly fond of her second son, Gresham. He, in turn, devoted his life to her care. He probably never loved another woman and certainly never married.

As a youngster, Machen acquired a lifelong love for three things: the Bible, learning, and sports. By eight or ten years of age, he had memorized large sections of Scripture and could recite the Shorter Catechism by heart. He also read the Classics and enjoyed science, dissecting every unlucky bug he could find. He attended the games of the old Baltimore Orioles, and saw Wee Willie Keeler "hit `e where they ain't" and John McGraw begin his managing career.

He was growing up, in short, to be a well rounded young man: smart, athletic, and well behaved. He was not, however, converted.

At 17 he entered Johns Hopkins University where he acquitted himself well. His overall grade was about 98%. And his curriculum did not include "advanced basket weaving" or "hairdressing for life". Latin, Greek, French, German, rhetoric, philosophy, science, history, math, and economics were on his schedule. Upon receiving his B.A., he remained another year at the university and studied under B.L. Gildersleeve, America's finest Greek scholar (this would be important later).

From there he went on the University of Chicago to study economics. But one semester soured him on that as a career.

But, what would he do for a living? Well, being a gentleman, he didn't "have" to do anything. He had plenty of money. And so, still unsure of his future profession, he figured "it couldn't hurt anything" to study theology. And so he enrolled at Princeton Seminary. There he was taught by the finest Evangelical scholars in America: Francis Patton, William H. Green, C.W. Hodge, Geerhardus Vos--and best of all--B.B. Warfield.

Machen learned a lot at Princeton and enjoyed his stay immensely. But after three years of study, he still didn't know what he wanted to do. Some, seeing his obvious abilities, urged him to enter the ministry. But Machen believed that a special call was required for that, and he--at least for now--hadn't received one.

And so, still unsure of his calling, he went back to school. This time, though, he left his beloved family and sailed for Germany. There, for a year or two, he studied at the Universities of Marburg and Gottingen. "Machen", of course, is a German name and Gresham loved the home of his ancestors. He was enraptured with everything German. Well--almost everything! In writing to his mother, he lamented:

On a more serious note, Germany introduced Machen to something he had never heard before: "Christian Liberalism". His family had taught him to respect the Bible and believe it. So had his university. And Princeton, of course, was the citadel of old-fashioned, Bible-believing Calvinism. But the German universities denied the fundamentals of Scripture. They taught that it was a "good book, but filled with error." That "the Historical Jesus" has little or no relationship to the Christ of the New Testament. They rejected the literal, bodily resurrection of Christ and replaced it with a subjective "resurrection" in the heart of believers. These heresies were taught with the greatest scholarship and enthusiasm.

This teaching had a profound and disturbing effect on J. Gresham Machen. He began to adopt these dangerous articles for his own. His favorite professor was Wilhelm Hermann. About him, Machen wrote:

(Without going into undue detail, the doctrine Machen was them imbibing can be summarized like this: "The important thing is not to know Christ in Scripture, but to experience Him in your life").

In this unsettled state, Machen received a letter, postmarked Princeton, New Jersey. His old friend, W.P. Armstrong, writing in behalf of the Seminary, invited Machen to join the faculty as a teacher of New Testament Greek. Gresham declined the offer. But the Princetonians were not easily discouraged. They wrote again, urging him to come. Again he refused. But the Seminary was insistent. And so, unsure of himself, (but believing the men of Princeton to be guided by the Spirit) J. Gresham Machen accepted the offer and returned to America. Thinking he would stay "a semester or two", he remained at Princeton for 23 eventful years. It was 1906. Machen was 25.

Back at the old seminary, Machen regained his bearing and soon championed the faith the Germans had so maligned.

He was a remarkable teacher, a sort of "half slave driver--half comedian". He demanded nothing short of perfection from his students; sloppiness was not permitted. One of his students described his fastidiousness like this: "He would swing into our classroom clutching a sheaf of correspondence, take his place behind his desk and direct one of us to conjugate the verb "luo". While the recitation was under way our teacher, to all appearances, would be totally absorbed with his morning mail. But let the conjugator make one slip and Machen would be on him like the Assyrian army on Israel. No orchestra leader ever had a keener ear to detect a sour note. A single syllable mispronounced, and up would go his hand and we would hear, "Ah, ah--let's go over that again, shall we?"

But Machen had his lighter side as well. He loved charades, checkers, and skits, the more ludicrous the better. He regularly told his students, "Boys, there are two things wrong with this institution: you're not working hard enough and you're not having enough fun!"

Machen would make sure that they excelled in both.

But he did more than teach. He also wrote extensively. Here too he showed uncommon balance. Some of his books were highly intellectual in content, able to challenge the finest scholar. Of these The Virgin Birth of Christ, and The Origin of Paul's Religion stand out. But he could also speak to the average man. His fine books God Transcendent and The Christian View of Man were originally delivered as radio addresses and can be read by anyone of reasonable intelligence. My favorite book of his is The New Testament: An Introduction to its Literature and History. This was prepared for Sunday school classes, for more-or-less students in junior and senior high school.

Thus Machen combined intellect with the common touch. Like his Savior, he could both reach the fisherman and teach the Rabbi a thing or two as well.

But Machen's chief calling in life was not teaching or writing. It was something much less pleasant. He was at home in the study or classroom. But God called him to the battlefield. And J. Gresham Machen would march at his Lord's command.

His last years were spent in three controversies: one having to do with his church, the next affecting his school, and the last highly personal in nature.

But first, the ecclesiastical conflict:

Machen was born at a critical time in Church History. His life coincided with the "Modernist--Fundamentalist Controversy". All of the Protestant denominations were affected by it, including Machen's Presbyterian Church.

The "Modernists" rejected a supernatural Christianity and replaced it with the "Social Gospel". The Church's great calling--they said--was to reform society. By doing this they would achieve a kind of "heaven on earth". The leading exponent of this view was Harry Emerson Fosdick, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church of New York City.

Fosdick and his ilk were opposed by the "Fundamentalists" a group of Christians who were content with the Gospel as found in the Bible.

These two groups uneasily co-existed in the Churches for 40-60 years. The Liberals called for "tolerance" and never tired of attacking the Conservatives for their narrow-mindedness. But Machen and his fellow conservatives were troubled by the Liberal presence. This was not, however, a product of bigotry. They only sought to be true to the Bible and their ordination vows.

The Bible was clear on the subject: "A man that is a heretic, after the first and second admonitions, reject". A "heretic" can be defined as "one who seriously departs from the teaching of Scripture". These men did-- radically. And therefore, they ought to be deposed from their ministries and even put out of the Church.

But they were more than "heretics"; they were also hypocrites and liars. For in their ordination vows, they subscribed to the Westminster Confession of faith "ex animo", i.e., "from the heart". But the Confession is strictly Orthodox, Evangelical, and Reformed. The Liberals, therefore, were perjuring themselves every time they entered they entered the pulpit.

Based therefore, on these two charges, Machen and the conservatives sought to bring the Liberals under discipline. The General Assembly, however, refused. In 1924 the Auburn Affirmation was adopted, thus changing the Presbyterian Church, U.S.A. from a Confessional Church (i.e., united by a common faith) to a Broad Church (i.e., one in which a variety of doctrinal positions were accepted).

This was a bitter defeat for Machen and his associates. But they remained with the Church.

The second struggle concerned his beloved Princeton.

By the Auburn Affirmation, the Liberals got what they wanted, "tolerance". But that, of course, was not what their real goal. They next aimed for "domination". Only one thing stood in their way: Princeton Theological Seminary. The Presbyterian Church owned several seminaries, all of which were either controlled or influenced by Liberalism. All, that is, but Princeton. And Princeton was the Church's oldest and most respected place of higher learning. As long as it remained Orthodox, the Liberals could never dominate the Church. But by 1929 the Liberal pressure could no longer be resisted. Princeton surrendered and the Liberals got in. Although some Conservatives remained (e.g., Hodge, Vos), the school would never be the same. It would soon become a bastion of Liberal Christianity.

When the Liberals got in, Machen "got out". With great sorrow, he resigned his professorship and bade his students farewell.

In 1929, he and other conservative Presbyterians founded Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. This was an attempt to revive the spirit of Old Princeton. Knowing that Orthodoxy's only hope was an educated ministry, Machen surrounded himself with some of the world's finest Christian minds, among whom were: Paul Wooley, Ned Stonehouse, R.B. Kuiper, and the young Scotsman, John Murray. Westminster meant everything to Machen. About his love for the seminary, William White writes:

He was not disappointed. Although its building was old and run down, the early years of Westminster throbbed with vital Christianity. Some of the finest theological teaching in American history took place under Machen's supervision.

But one further controversy awaited J. Gresham Machen. It would be the hardest to endure, for it was intensely personal.

The Presbyterian Church supported overseas work through its missionary boards. But what were the missionaries teaching? And what would the Church direct them to teach?

Under their ordination vows, they were to teach that system of truth found in the Bible as outlined in the Westminster Confession of Faith. But whereas the Church no longer required this of its domestic ministers, how could it be expected to demand more from its missionaries?

And, of course, it didn't. The doctrinal decline in the U.S. was being reproduced overseas. The most notorious case was:

Such undisguised heresy shocked Dr. Machen, and he vainly hoped that his Church would move against such error. But, of course, it didn't. In fact, it did just the opposite. A group of men on the Missionary Board published a book on Missions, describing its task as "seeking truth together with adherents of other religions...and "The relation between religions must take increasingly hereafter the form of a common search for truth".

Liberalism, therefore, had destroyed the Presbyterian message to the world as well as its ministry at home.

Machen and other conservatives, therefore, founded the Independent Board For Presbyterian Missions. Its aim was not to destroy the official board, but only to give conservative Presbyterians a safe place to send their missionary support.

But this act outraged the Church. Dr. Machen was ordered to sever his ties to the Board. He refused. And so he was put on trial.

The charge was insubordination. The prosecutor asked, "Will you, Dr. Machen, obey the orders of your church?"

"No" was the reply, "because your order is unlawful".

"We are not here to discuss whether the order is lawful or not, Dr. Machen. Now, will you obey it?"

"No"--and here's why it is unlawful. It is against Scripture and the Confession of Faith".

But we are not here to discuss Scripture or the Confession of Faith, Dr. Machen, but whether or not you will obey the orders."

And around and around it went. Machen, in short, was not allowed to defend himself. He was, as you might guess, found guilty and deposed from the ministry.

This "trial" was so obviously unjust that some of the unlikliest people came to Machen's defense, including:

In 1935, Machen, now thrown out of his Church, led in the founding of another, better Church. It stood for "the faith once delivered to the saints" in the Bible. It endorsed the Westminster Confession of Faith, in all of its unyielding Calvinism. It established a Mission Board to send the Gospel to all nations. It was eventually called "The Orthodox Presbyterian Church". It remains--more or less--faithful to its founder's vision.

J. Gresham Machen is now 56 years old, happy, and in good health. It seemed that many years of fruitful ministry awaited him. But,

"God moves in a mysterious way,

His wonders to perform".

During Christmas vacation, 1936, Machen left Philadelphia for a preaching tour of North Dakota. When he arrived in Bismarck, it was 20 degrees below zero. He caught a cold, which developed into pneumonia.

Passing in and out of consciousness, Machen said to his friend about heaven, "Sam, it was glorious, it was glorious". Later, he remarked, "Sam, isn't the Reformed Faith grand?" Finally, he breathed his last, saying, "I'm so thankful for the active obedience of Christ. No hope without it".

He died at 7:30 P.M., New Years Day, 1937.

None of us have the gifts of John Gresham Machen. None of us have enjoyed the educational opportunities he had. None of us will write books comparable to his, preach sermons as well as he did, found a church or seminary worthy of comparison.

And thus, Machen would seem to be admirable, but not imitatable. And this is true--if we believe that Machen's greatest strength was his intellect. But it was not! His power lay in his integrity, in his honesty with himself, others, and God.

This character is what commanded respect. This is what made him an inspiration to the honest and a terror to the crooked.

But Machen was not the only man of integrity to have that effect on others. I think of Samuel's valedictory, when he challenged a nation of malcontents to "Behold, here I am; witness against me before the LORD and before His anointed..." But they could not. I remember Paul saying to the Ephesian elders, "Now I take you to record this day, that I am pure from the blood of all men, for I have not shunned to declare to you the whole counsel of God". I recall Martin Luther who made the pope apoplectic because, said the Pontiff, "He cannot be bought". But most of all, I think of Jesus Christ who said to a mob of angry Pharisees, "Which of you convicts me of sin?"

Integrity, therefore, is the principal thing. But, though hard to get, it is at least, easy to understand how to get. It's this simple:

Machen lost everything by his stand. Or did he? No. He didn't lose anything worth having. He didn't lose his self-respect. He didn't lose the admiration of good men. He didn't lose the approval of God.

And neither will you, if you "follow the LORD fully".