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RETURN TO CELEBRATION DAILY INDEX PAGE
I have known
J. Martin Bailey
November 6, 1999
CLEVELANDNo one person or group of persons can adequately represent
any institutionespecially an ecumenical organization like
the National Council of Churches.
Yet, because the God of the Incarnation acts through
individuals, particular persons have shaped and
embodied the Council. Take the seven men and women
who have been our general secretaries. I have been
blessed by knowing all seven. And I was privileged
to serve under the leadership of four, beginning with
Roy Ross and ending with Joan Campbell.
Each of the seven brought different styles and emphases.
All were passionate ecumenists. Fifty years ago this
month, the train to Cleveland on which Roy Ross was
traveling from Chicago was stopped in a blizzard.
The short-legged, well-rounded Roy Ross believed
earnestly in what was to happen the next day; he
wanted to get off the train and struggle through
the drifting snow.
Representing what was then the International Council
of Religious Education, Roy Ross did not want to be
late for a meeting with the Federal Council of
Churches’ Samuel McCrae Cavert. Those two shaped
conciliar ecumenism in America; both were convinced
that Christian witness would be inadequate without
concern for a just and peaceful society and for
future leadership of the churches.
Ed Espy led the Council during the turbulent Sixties;
it was a gift that a layman with an inclusive world-view
was the third general secretary. There were plenty
of voices ready to blame the nation’s clergy for
being unrealistic and soft when confrontation was
experienced in the streets, on campuses and across
the so-called Iron Curtain. Ed was experienced,
strong, daring.
Ed was succeeded by Claire Randall who had headed a
vast and influential women’s organization. She
encouraged America’s churches to extend hands of
friendship and welcome to the faithful in what was
then called the Soviet Union. She introduced
thousands of Americans to Baptist, Orthodox and
other religious leaders from Eastern Europe.
That search for peace with a human face also was a
passion of Arie Brouwer, who struggled (perhaps
too hard and certainly too quickly) to cure the
organizational and financial dilemmas that the
Council had inherited from its very diverse
member churches who could not prioritize their
goals together. He was tough and visionary and
was too far ahead of his staff and constituents.
Jim Hamilton, a careful lawyer by training, brought
a measure of stability to the Council. He enjoyed
the confidence of both constituents and staff.
Jim knew the Council from the inside as perhaps
no one else: he had headed the Washington office
and worked long into many nights to balance
budgets and constituency participation.
A real gentleman.
As I look back across the fifty years that I have
observed the leaders of the National Council of
Churches, I see how each general secretary challenged
me personally. There were moments of high exhilaration
and joy. There were times of organizational tedium.
There were hours of great tension and pain. There
was education in every experience.
For half a century the Council has struggled to
express a unity in Christ that often was at odds
with the culture of the American religious community.
Every general secretary learned to duck. They
also learned to absorb much of the conflict that
surged around them. All sought peace and justice
as an expression of their commitment to the Gospel.
Some were, by nature, more graceful than others in
the ecclesiastical dance. But (to follow that
metaphor) there was not a wallflower among them.
Each knew the cost and the joy of leadership. I
remember them all with fondness and awesome respect.
J. Martin Bailey began his work with the council
on the staff of the International Journal of
Religious Education. When he retired in 1994 he
was Associate General Secretary for Education,
Communication and Discipleship.
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