Some Further Reflections on Ancient Landmarks - Glenn Conjurske

Some Further Reflections on

Ancient Landmarks

by Glenn Conjurske

I address this subject again for several reasons. In the first place, I regard it as one of the more important themes which I shall have occasion to treat in these pages, for what I am here contending for is conservatism. What I am contending against is the liberalism which has completely carried away Neo-evangelicalism, and very largely permeated Fundamentalism also. I was not able to say as much as the subject calls for in one short article. I believe also in repetition, for it is seldom that anyone will much understand a principle upon his first reading of it.

The Bible says, “Thou shalt not remove thy neighbour’s landmark, which they of old time have set in thine inheritance, which thou shalt inherit in the land that the Lord thy God giveth thee to possess it.” (Deut. 19:14). The landmarks were set by men of old time, before we were born, and before we entered the land of our inheritance. Restless liberalism is never content with anything which “they of old time” have done, always supposing itself competent to do better. Sometimes that supposition may be true, for what “they of old time” have done is never perfect. But as a plain matter of fact, experience, and history, the changes which liberals make are most often for the worse, for they are commonly too rash, too shallow, and too bent upon change to make judicious changes. They know how to prove all things, but not to hold fast that which is good. The changes which solid conservatives make are more likely to be for the better, for they are not impatient of the work of their fathers, and move slowly and deliberately in any alterations which they make.

And when we are dealing with anything which has acquired the status of an old landmark, we really have no business to change it at all, though I will grant there may be exceptions to this, as there are to most everything. If an old landmark is so intolerably misplaced as to cause more confusion and trouble where it is, than would be caused by its removal, we may be justified in removing it. Such cases are doubtless very rare, but I shall mention one a little further down.

First, however, I wish to enlarge a little upon the nature of those things which may be properly regarded as old landmarks. In my former article I spoke primarily of the old terminology, but the principle may apply to many other things as well. I believe it applies to everything in every sphere which “they of old time” have set, and which by long and universal usage has become the standard and customary practice.

Take for example music notation, as it is written and printed. The symbols are all arbitrary, certainly having no divine origin or sanction. It is perhaps possible that some precocious brain could improve all of this, but the improvement would introduce such confusion in the realm of music as to be simply intolerable. The names of the notes, their shape and position on the score, the signs of the bass, tenor, and treble clefs, the symbols for rests and flats and sharps, and indeed the score itself—-all these are old landmarks. Their retention gives stability and ease to all who know music. To alter them, for any reason whatsoever, would introduce intolerable confusion, and for the sake of a gain which would be infinitesimal or nonexistent.

The typewriter keyboard is another old landmark, which “they of old time” have set. To alter it now would introduce so much confusion into so many spheres that it is simply impracticable. We would not pretend that the typewriter keyboard is perfect, or that it has any divine sanction. Quite the reverse. It was designed purposely to prevent speed. To type too fast on the old typewriters resulted in tangling up the keys. There was room for only one key at a time in the striking position, and there must be time for the last key to be out of the way before the next key arrived. The keyboard was thus designed to prevent speed. We must reach for the “e” and the “i,” while the little-used “j” and “k” occupy the positions of honor on the “home” keys, under our best fingers on our right hand. This is not to facilitate speed, but precisely to prevent it. Now, with electronic typing, the need to prevent too much speed has entirely passed away, but the old keyboard remains, a relic, as the liberal would say, of the stone age. I understand that some attempts have been made to replace it, but these have met with little success. Those who would amend the typewriter keyboard must re-educate all of our heads also. They will find it easier to straighten the leaning tower of Pisa.

The spelling of words, and the shapes of the letters of the alphabet are further examples of old landmarks. Though spoken language is doubtless of divine origin, we cannot pretend to any divine origin for written language, and certainly not for the letters of the alphabet or the spellings of the words. Each language has its own alphabet, and its own manner of spelling. These are old landmarks, which “they of old time” have set, and to attempt any alteration of them now could only produce endless confusion. Various liberals from time to time have set on foot various attempts to “reform” the spelling of English, but those attempts have failed. Liberals in the public schools in our own day have even advocated “creative spelling.” Such a plan is extremely foolish, the product of shallow heads which obviously understand nothing of the issues involved, and were it ever to succeed, the result would be confusion confounded. When the alphabet and the spelling are “reformed,” stability and ease must give place to confusion and difficulty, and all of our ties with the past must be greatly weakened. This is true whenever ancient landmarks are removed, in any sphere whatever.

To read a book from “front” to “back,” and from left to right, is another example of an old landmark. It has no divine sanction. Hebrew and Syriac read from right to left, and the “front” and “back” of the books are just the reverse of Latin, Greek, and English. Yet to alter these, in any language at all, would produce no end of difficulty and confusion. Besides being obliged to re-educate our heads, all typewriters would require to be remade also.

The old landmarks were not set by God, but by the men of old time. We ought to retain them, not because they are of God, nor because they are incapable of improvement, but because they are old, and therefore familiar and customary and standard. If we remove many of the old landmarks, we must remake our minds and souls also, for our souls are not blanks, but are the repositories of a thousand thousand impressions and habits. The world itself seems generally conscious of this, and generally acts upon it. But here again, “The children of this world are wiser in their own kind than the children of light.” The world in general retains its old landmarks, while the Christians of the present liberal generation are determined to remove those of the church. We fear that the real reason for this is that the souls of the liberals and intellectuals of our time are indeed blanks in all the deep things of God. It is little inconvenience to them, therefore, to remove any or all of the old landmarks. But why do not more of the solid saints of God rise up in indignant protest?

But I will speak of one ancient landmark which has been removed, and that evidently to the satisfaction of all. I speak of the calendar. The calendar as it exists is surely an old landmark. Its year is essentially a solar year, though the calendar itself has no divine sanction, but is arbitrary in its beginning, in the length of its months, in their names, etc.—-and in all this far removed from the calendar of the Bible. Yet arbitrary as much of it is, to change it at all would necessarily introduce almost incalculable confusion. Yet the calendar which we have today is not the same calendar which was in use a few hundred years ago. It has been altered, and we can hardly regret the alteration, for the calendar which formerly existed was itself the source of so much confusion and error that its reform became a simple necessity. The need for its reformation was universally felt. It was reformed therefore, and though this created a good deal of confusion over a long period of time, yet the gain in the reform was great enough to justify the difficulty. The calendar, then, I regard as one of the rare exceptions, in which it was advantageous and proper to remove and replace an old landmark. It would be altogether improper, however, to attempt a further reform of the calendar today, for the flaws which remain in it are small and inconsequential, so that it is better on all accounts to live with them than to attempt to mend them. This is generally true of all old landmarks, and that even when their faults are much more significant than those which remain in the calendar.

The value of ancient landmarks may be best illustrated by a reference to the chapter and verse divisions of the Bible. These constitute one of the most obvious examples of what may be properly regarded as old landmarks. Aside from the Psalms and some other portions, as the Lamentations, these divisions have no divine origin or sanction. They are purely human. They are not the land, but only the landmarks. They exist independently of the substance of Scripture, and for the most part in no way affect that substance. They are merely reference points, to aid us in finding our way and keeping our bearings. Many of them could be improved upon. Yet who would dream of altering them now? To change them now would cause endless confusion of the most serious sort. Every Bible and concordance would require to be recast. Every doctrinal, devotional, and exegetical work written before this date would be a maze of confusion. Surely none but the most restless and thoughtless of liberals could be rash or foolish enough to desire any change whatever here, though none but the most shallow and bigoted traditionalists would attach any divine sanction to the divisions which now exist.

The names and order of the books of the Bible constitute another example. The names of most of the books of the Bible are not of divine origin. They are human appendages, and in some cases could be improved upon. The same is true in many cases of the order of the books. The order of the English Old Testament differs greatly from that of the Hebrew. The order of the English New Testament differs from that of the Greek manuscripts.

Various attempts have been made to re-arrange the books of the New Testament, but the re-arrangers cannot agree among themselves as to how it ought to be done. F. W. Grant, in his Numerical Bible, and Christopher Wordsworth, in his Greek New Testament, have each re-arranged the epistles of Paul, with the following result:

These men obviously proceeded upon different principles entirely, principles, no doubt, which were of some importance to themselves, but it is evident that any gain which may accrue from either man’s arrangement is entirely cancelled by the other man’s. Whatever that gain may be supposed to be, it will not be apparent to ordinary readers, while they will all feel a great loss, in the confusion and inconvenience which the new arrangements force upon them. And if the customary arrangement is really so defective as to call for revision, why cannot the new arrangers agree as to the new arrangement? Once grant that the old arrangement must needs be altered, and I suppose we shall have as many arrangements as we have arrangers. Westcott and Hort put the Catholic Epistles before those of Paul, and Hebrews between Second Thessalonians and First Timothy, with the same obvious loss, and no gain which is apparent to anybody. All this is upsetting old landmarks, and, to say the least of it, is very unwise. The old arrangement is adequate. There is no apparent gain in any of the new arrangements, and great loss in all of them, in casting away the ease and convenience of familiar ground. This is an evil which always attends the removal of old landmarks. Their removal ought therefore never to be so much as contemplated, unless there are reasons for it so compelling as to over-rule all the advantages of the convenience and stability which belong to old and familiar associations.

A very interesting example of the unintentional removing of an old landmark came under my notice some years ago. I have a copy machine which was made in Japan. Not being very well able to afford a hundred dollars for a service call, I paid a hefty price for a service manual. In looking over some of the electrical schematics in this book, I frequently met with the word “earth.” This meant nothing, and only puzzled me, until I realized that this is what in English we commonly call ground. The book was doubtless first written in Japanese, and translated into English by a native of Japan, who was not familiar with English connotations, and was perhaps a little too self-confident besides. “Earth” and “ground” may bear essentially the same sense, but “ground” means something to those familiar with the terminology of electronics, while “earth” means nothing. We cannot remove the old, settled, and familiar terminology without introducing confusion. This is true in every sphere.

Every field has its own standard terms, terms which by long usage have become familiar to all, and associated with themselves a well-defined meaning. The simple mention of the term calls forth all the mental associations which belong to that term. It may call to mind historical events, or doctrines, or principles. More importantly, it will arouse suitable emotions. To replace that terminology with any other, on the pleas of accuracy or intelligibility, or any other plea whatsoever, is simply foolish.

American patriots may like to speak of the statue of liberty or the liberty bell. These are old landmarks—-not the things merely, but the terms by which they are named. If some young liberal, under some notions of his own of accuracy or intelligibility or propriety, began to speak of the freedom bell or the image of liberty, this would introduce confusion. The terms would certainly be unintelligible to most, and even if they were understood, yet it is certain that they would leave the emotions untouched. They would altogether fail to strike any chord in the hearts of those that heard them. The terms “liberty bell” and “statue of liberty” touch the emotions. They strike a patriotic chord in the hearts of patriotic Americans. Substitute anything else in the place of those familiar terms, and it will fail to strike that chord, regardless of how much more accurate or intelligible it may be supposed to be.

And so it is with a thousand expressions in the language of the Bible and the church. But “The children of this world are wiser in their own kind than the children of light.” No American patriot would dream of renaming the liberty bell, or Paul Revere’s “midnight ride,” but Christians rename half the old landmarks in their heritage, and think they are doing God service. The result of this is the production of Bibles which fail to speak the language of the heart. This may suit the emotionless Christianity of modern intellectualism, which knows nothing of either fire or tears, but it leaves the hearts of those who feel—-it leaves the souls which are not blank—-empty and unsatisfied. But this is not all. The new terms fail even to call up any associations of the mind.

To take one example, “the mantle of Elijah” is an old landmark. The expression, and the event associated with it, are common coin in the theological, devotional, and historical literature of the church. If we say that the mantle of D. L. Moody fell upon R. A. Torrey, this brings hallowed scenes to the mind, and everyone understands it perfectly. What would they think or understand if we said that the coat or cloak of Moody fell upon Torrey? They would probably think we referred to some occasion on which Moody dropped his coat from the balcony. The mantle of Moody is the well known expression for his place and ministry. The coat of Moody means only the coat on his back, and fails to arouse any mental associations beyond that. It may well be that coat is more intelligible, in the strictly temporal sphere, and to the spiritually illiterate, but God never made a Bible for the spiritually illiterate, and he certainly has not commissioned his people to do so.

Now there are scores—-hundreds, I suppose—-of these ancient landmarks scattered throughout our spiritual heritage.

The mantle of Elijah—-Samson’s riddle—-Noah’s ark—-wood, hay, and stubble—-making bricks without straw—-the living water—-the manna from heaven—-the still, small voice—-the ark of the covenant—-the ark of bulrushes—-the vials of wrath—-the burning bush—-the cities of refuge—-lukewarmness—-wrestling with God—-the fear of the Lord—-godliness—-Calvary—-these and scores of others are all ancient landmarks. They cannot be removed without casting away a myriad of the most sacred associations of both the mind and the heart.

“Justification by faith” is an old landmark—-not the doctrine, but the term—-and we shall never learn to call it “acquittal by faith,” though it ought by all means to be so explained in preaching. Landmarks such as this cannot be removed without the most serious loss. Those who would at this date turn the Philistines into the Palestinians, or the flesh into the carnal nature, are simply removing ancient landmarks. Their work is most obviously done for the spiritually illiterate, who never had any familiarity with or attachment to the heritage of the saints of God. We cannot turn the liberty bell into the freedom bell for an American, though a Hottentot may not regret the change, or even notice it. We cannot exchange the old landmarks for new ones for an old saint of God, though the spiritually illiterate may like the new terms well enough. The new terms may be as good in themselves as the old ones—-nay, better—-but that is quite irrelevant. No new terms can replace the ancient landmarks, for those who knew and loved them. I am aware that some may be offended at my saying so, but I honestly believe that the primary reason that the new Bibles have been so successful in the church of God today is that they have been obtruded upon a generation of Christians which but little knew the Bible, and was but little attached to it. The old Revised Version met with no such success. Though much more conservative in retaining the old landmarks than the new versions are, it was promptly and peremptorily rejected by the English people. The very world in that day was more familiar with the old Bible, and more attached to it, than the church is in our day. Hence the old landmarks may be removed with impunity today, but those who remove them are doing no service to either God or man.

Glenn Conjurske