Expectations in Oldtown Parishes

Engaging in fiction, even older classic writers, can provide insight for pastors. The received stereotype of the village pastor, for better or worse, produce expectations, which should cease, nevertheless continue. Once upon a time, the minister provided stability by the expectations he ever-lived to perpetuate. The parson’s ghost often surfaces in the whispers of parishioners in rural communities today. Expectations in Oldtown parishes often catch pastors by surprise. But first, a short word about Harriet Beecher Stowe the author of Oldtown Folks

The Romantic Irony of Harriet Beecher Stowe

Oldtown Folks, written by Harriet Beecher Stowe in 1869, is a treasure-trove of caricatures. Stowe writes from the vantage point of nostalgia. The voice of an older man wishing to preserve the memories of his New England childhood tells her story. Stowe cannot hide the romanticism of her era which often frequently breaks through as humorous critique and commendation. There is an intentional irony which pervades her writing that is both enjoyable and thought provoking.

Harriet Beecher Stowe

Before we consider the Oldtown Parish, we might do well to understand Harriet Beecher Stowe’s background. Stowe was a prolific writer during the years preceding the American Civil War through the end of the Gilded age. Stowe’s husband (Calvin Ellis Stowe) was a professor of Biblical Literature at Lane Theological and then religion professor at Bowdoin College and finally at Andover Theological. Harriet grew up in the nurture of the New England Theological tradition. Her father was Lyman Beecher, a Presbyterian pastor and temperance leader. Her brother was the famous Brooklyn pastor Henry Ward Beecher.

Harriet’s most famous work was Uncle Tom’s Cabin, which attacked slavery. Not only did she fight slavery, she also severely criticized the received Calvinism from her New England forefathers. Her brother, at times creating scandal, also diverged from his upbringing by preaching a love-only gospel suited more to the growing liberalism in the Romantic period and the widening distance from their received, however distorted, New England Calvinism.

Expectations of the Minister and Wife

Stowe, a remarkably gifted writer, lets loose her arrows aimed at the problems of the past and her present. Since these issues tend to resurface in every generation, we should consider the potential misconceptions, which may arise in people’s perception of the minister and wife. Harriet writes:

” In those days, of New England, the minister and his wife were considered the temporal and spiritual superiors of everybody in the parish. The idea which has since gained ground, of regarding the minister and his family as a sort of stipendiary attachment and hired officials of the parish, to be overlooked, schooled, advised, rebuked, and chastened by every deacon and deacon’s wife or rich and influential parishioner, had not then arisen. Parson Lothrop was so calmly awful in his sense of his own position and authority, that it would have been a sight worth seeing to witness any of his parish coming to him, as deacons and influential parishioners now-a-days feel at liberty to come to their minister, with suggestions and admonitions.”

Oldtown Folks, Harriet Beecher Stowe, “Old Town and the Minister.”

In Stowe’s mouth, “now-a-days” is funny because it sounds contemporary even though she was writing over 150 years ago. Her point, however, should be well-taken. Distance does not always create deference. Sometimes distance creates unhealthy power structures. Familiarity and deference is a formula which is nearly impossible to achieve. Still, to smell like the sheep is a worthy goal. Time with the flock creates capacity for reception of the Word. Familiarity, in most cases, allows deacons to converse and not to critique. There are ways to overcome the expectations of oldtown parishes.

The Oldtown Parish Meeting-House

In those days “going to meeting” was a way of life. According to the young narrator, most could not afford to be absent from church. If they did not come for the sermon, they most certainly came to see the new bonnet on the minister’s wife. To miss seeing the spectacle would be to lose opportunity to converse during the week. In a community with little worldly entertainment at their fingertips, the duty of “going to meeting” brought the whole village into one sheep fold. To be absent from meeting could be a very lonely experience. Horace describes the eerie lonesomeness of absence from the assembly:

“I remember in my early days, sometimes when I had been left at home by reason of some of the transient ailments of childhood, how ghostly and supernatural the stillness of the whole house and village outside the meeting-house used to appear to me, how loudly the clock ticked and the flies buzzed down the window-pane, and how I listened in the breathless stillness to the distant psalm-singing, the solemn tones of the long prayer, and then to the monotone of the sermon, and then again to the closing echoes of the last hymn, and thought sadly, what if some day I should be left out, when all my relations and friends had gone to meeting in the New Jerusalem, and hear afar the music from the crystal walls.”

Oldtown Folks, Harriet Beecher Stowe, “The Old Meeting-House.”

In subsequent passages, Stowe gives recognition to the strong point of the Blue Laws and Puritan strictness of yesterday. In spite of the “rude and primitive” meeting house, Sunday created a weekly union of all the classes in the community. Sunday worship was a truly magnetic power to keep society respectable. Given the necessity to spruce up and be presentable every seventh day, Sunday worship ensured community standards. Certainly, there was a benefit of a community parish. Not only did it provide opportunity keep up appearances, it also guaranteed a reliable audience to receive biblical instruction. In an era of limited group communication, everyone heard the same messages and messaging. Stowe critiques this singular pulpit by introducing theological controversy when characters visit alternate parishes and come back chattering about new doctrines.

Expectation and Waiting on the Word

While dressed in humor, Harriet Beecher Stowe shows the drastic change in her day, which is only magnified exponentially in our own. How wonderful might our day be if the sheep waited with reverence to receive God’s Word. Perhaps these expectations in oldtown parishes could continue? Hear, hear:

“The mixed and motley congregation came in with due decorum during the ringing of the first bell, and waited in their seats the advent of the minister. The tolling of the bell was the signal for him that his audience were ready to receive him, and he started from his house. The clerical dress of the day, the black silk gown, the spotless bands, the wig and three-cornered had and black gloves, were items of professional fitness which, in our minister’s case, never failed of a due attention. When, with his wife leaning on his arm, he entered at the door of the meeting-house, the whole congregation rose and remained reverently standing until he had take his seat in the pulpit. The same reverential decorum was maintained after service was over, when all reminded standing an uncovered while the minister and his family passed down the broad aisle and left the house. Our fathers were no man-worshippers, but they regarded the minister as an ambassador from the great Sovereign of the universe, and paid reverence to Him whose word he bore in their treatment of him.”

Harriet Beecher Stowe, Oldtown Folks, “The Old Meeting-House.”

In each of these snapshots, Stowe provides commentary upon the generation at the end of the eighteenth century. In these vignettes, one can see how a Second Great Awakening might occur, or perhaps a Third should the positive stereotypes return. Yet, in the Oldtown Parish, one can see how spiritual abuse might occur. The tension of familiarity must stand against a reverence for the Word of God. Modern pastors would do well to consider the privilege, perils, and expectations of Oldtown Parishes.

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Pastors Need to Pursue Friendship

Pastors need friendship
As read by the author

Pastors need to pursue friendship, if not as a guard for the gospel, but for their own souls. 

Having survived the first ten years of ministry, I have found that pastors need friendship. Friendship has been a grace of God to settle my soul and refocus my mind in the trenches. I have also observed that going rogue is more likely to result in desertion from duty, or worse, a dishonorable discharge.

The pitfalls in ministry have been well-documented and sadly portrayed throughout media to remind us of the fallibility of evangelical leaders. Yet, no matter how high or low the profile, shared experience with other soldiers can be a guardrail for the soul. At its root, friendship is a selfless and joyous harmony among equals. Friendship is a humble discourse of souls in a perilous journey.

C. S. Lewis observed in The Four Loves that “Friendship is unnecessary, like philosophy, like art. . . . It has no survival value; rather it is one of those things that gives value to survival.” Friendship is a value of incalculable benefit shared between two human souls.

Many know of Jonathan Edwards (1703–1758), but sadly, few know of his son and namesake, Jonathan Edwards Jr. (1745–1801). Each in their own generation faced opposition over the gospel, and each found that friendship gave rich value to survival.

Perilous Parallels between Father and Son

The younger Edwards’s life and death had a surprising and eerie similarity with his father. Both older and younger were

  • Scholars exhibiting great piety in their youth
  • Tutors for equal period of time at their respective colleges (Yale and Princeton) 
  • Settled ministers in the church of their maternal grandfathers (Northampton, MA and New Haven, CT)
  • Dismissed for controversy over the half-way covenant
  • Resettled in remote places (Stockbridge, MA and Colebrook, CT)
  • College presidents (Princeton, NJ and Union College, NY)  
  • Died shortly after inauguration
  • Preached a New Year’s sermon in the year of their death, entitled, “This Year Thou Shalt Die.”[1]

Edwards Sr. found John Erskine (1721–1803) in the British Isles to be the kind of friend who might buoy him amidst the controversies of the First Great Awakening era. Edwards Jr. would also follow his father in seeking intellectual intimacy with other men in ministry. Yet, there are some dissimilarities. In particular, Edwards Jr. began his ministry in the fire of controversy; while Edwards Sr. began in the peaceful shadow of his grandfather. Yet Edwards Sr. and Jr. both discovered that pastors need friendship through similar controversy.

Two Churches Under One Roof

Edwards Jr. inherited a raucous and divided ministry in New Haven a few months before his twenty-fourth birthday. Sixty-eight subscribers opposed to his installation presented a petition to the White Haven deacons requesting another candidate. Instead of forestalling installation, the deacons pushed through, even poking the disgruntles in the eye. A month before Edwards Jr.’s installation the church set aside the faction’s preferred half-way covenant. Most seminaries today would have advised against entering a ministry with such apparent division in play; however, Edwards Jr. gladly accepted the invitation to settle. 

With the confidence of his mentor Joseph Bellamy (1717–1790) and the powerful ally and Founding Father Roger Sherman (1721–1793) Edwards began to preach in January 1769. In subsequent months of failed negotiation, an exodus of about two hundred left to start a rival church. With youthful zeal, Edwards Jr. preached to his remaining congregation of about five hundred. To the best of his ability, he sowed the seeds of true religion. Yet, with an unsettled flock, pastors need a true friendship they can turn to when they are uncertain who is a sheep or a wolf.

The Loss of His Beloved Polly

After this unsettled first year of ministry, Edwards Jr. pursued companionship through marriage, even as his church was trying to find its footing. Five years earlier, Edwards Jr. had met Mary Porter in the congregation of Samuel Hopkins during a brief time of mentoring. Mary, whom he affectionately called Miss Polly in his letters, would be his “bosom friend.” A few weeks before his marriage in the fall of 1770, he wrote these words to Miss Polly:

But I write to let you know that I neither have nor can forget you. How often, do my thoughts recur to her, whose esteem at least, I hope I have gained, & whom ere long I hope to embrace as my bosom friend. O How tedious is the time! […] Patience in other things is a virtue. But can it be a virtue in such a case as this?[2]

With the flare of Jane Austin, Mary replied to her betrothed: 

Dear Sir I am not ashamed to own, that I am yours—what tho the sacred ceremony is not past; that it is true [it] can bind us more closely together—but the want of it cannot part us […] Your affectionate friend, Mary Porter[3]

Through the first decade of marriage together, they would weather pastoral disappointments, grieve over the death of Jonathan Edwards III (ca. 1775), and endure the early stages of Revolution.

Nevertheless, at the highwater mark of Edwards Jr.’s New Haven ministry in 1782, he lost his beloved to a heart-rending carriage accident. On a hot day at the end of June, she took pity upon her horse, and not judging the depth of water allowed the horse to descend into a pond. Losing balance, she struck her head and drowned. The town was deeply affected. Hers was the largest funeral assembly in memory. 

Finding Intellectual Intimacy through Friendship

C. S. Lewis recognized that “Lovers are always talking to one another about their love; friends hardly ever about their Friendship. Lovers are normally face to face, absorbed in each other; friends, side by side, absorbed in some common interest.” Friendship among pastors encourage a pursuit of the gospel.

Bereaved of his wife, Edwards Jr. was graced with another marriage to Miss Mercy Sabin; however, the remainder of his time in New Haven would require a strong theological fellowship to weather the storms of the universalist heresy which ravishing his flock and controversy over the half-way covenant. To keep Edwards Jr.’s soul within the guardrails of the gospel, he proposed an intellectual friendship to John Rylands Jr. (1753–1825) by letter in 1785.

Spurred by the gift of two printed sermons of Rylands Jr. from his father’s friend John Erskine, Edwards Jr. sent a letter, as a feeler, to see if there might be a possible connection. 

[H]aving long wished there may be as extensive an acquaintance, & as frequent & friendly an intercourse, as possible, among the friends to real Christianity & to the peculiar doctrines of free grace; I at once determined to seek an acquaintance, by epistolary correspondence, with Mr. Ryland Junr. […] I wish for such a correspondence as may instruct & quicken us both as Christians & as ministers.[4]

While Rylands Jr. would be very close to Andrew Fuller, he made room for new friendships. To Edwards Jr.’s pleasure, over the next sixteen years, both men would correspond on topics of significance to the evangelical Calvinist cause. Edwards Jr. would also be a gift of grace to Rylands Jr. who had also lost his beloved wife of seven years to illness. Both pastors needed friendship. Edwards wrote in a follow-up letter:

Dear Sir, as you are so kind, as to remember me in your prayers, for wh I sincerely thank you, & hope God may hear & answer you add to your kindness, by praying sometimes for my poor children, “by nature children of wrath,” that your son & mine may live; walk in the paths of heavenly wisdom, & correspond on the subjects of piety & immortality; is the subject of my ardent wish & prayer.—Your affliction in the loss of Mrs. Ryland is truly affecting! As you mention my “former affliction,” I suppose you have heard, tho I know not how, of my peculiar trial, in the loss of a most amiable comfort. She was accidently drowned. A most surprising & afflicting scene! So that you see, I can feel for you.[5]

Pursue Friendship

Fellow Pastor, no temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. Friendship may be that way of escape for pastors. Many in church history have found friendship to be the key to survival in ministry. John Owen had a John Bunyan. Martin Luther had a Philip Melanchthon. John Calvin had William Farel. Even though separated by miles of ocean and slow mail service, God gave Edwards Jr. a Rylands Jr. to spur him through the challenges of pastoral ministry. Rylands Jr. was to Edwards Jr. as Hopeful was to Christian in the Pilgrim’s Progress. No journey could be more perilous than gospel ministry. Who do you have? Whom could you befriend? Pastors need friendship.


[1] Samuel William Southmayd Dutton, The History of the North Church in New Haven: From Its Formation in May 1742, During the Great Awakening, to the Completion of the Century in May 1842: In Three Sermons (New Haven, CT: A. H. Maltby, 1842), 75.

[2]Jonathan Edwards Jr. LST Mary Porter, July 25, 1770, Series V. Edwards Family CorrespondenceEdwards, Jonathan, 1745-1801. Outgoing letters. Beinecke Rare Book Library, Yale University (MS151, Box 26, Folder 1423). 

[3]Mary Porter LST Jonathan Edwards Jr, September 23, 1770, Series V. Edwards Family Correspondence. Edwards, Jonathan, 1745-1801. Incoming letters. Beinecke Rare Book Library, Yale University (MS151, Box 26, Folder 1439).

[4] Jonathan Edwards Jr. LST John Ryland, Jr. May 28, 1785. Edwards Family Correspondence, Jonathan Edwards 1745-1801 Outgoing Letters. Beinecke Rare Book Library, Yale University (GEN MSS 152 Box 1, Folder 2).

[5]Jonathan Edwards Jr. LST John Ryland, Jr. October 2, 1787. Edwards Family Correspondence, Jonathan Edwards 1745-1801 Outgoing Letters. Beinecke Rare Book Library, Yale University (GEN MSS 152 Box 1, Folder 3).