Baptist

Down in the Texas Baptist belt, where Fundamentalism flourishes under the humid (often illiterate) phrases and hot war-whoops of a revivalist-Genesis-trumpeter, Rev. J. Frank Norris, the prevailing belief among the brethren is that whatever Baptist Norris does is done for the Lord, and is by Him blessed. Last week Rev. J. Frank Norris killed a man.

In Manhattan three years ago, Dr. Norris attracted attention by predicting from the pulpit of John Roach Straton, amidst wild gesticulations, that "within one hour" the sin-steeped city would be demolished. The man Mr. Chipps, whom Norris destroyed, had come into his sanctum, the church-study, to dissuade Dr. Norris from attacking his friends.

The Doom's Day apostle of righteousness likewise entertained the soldiers, during the War, with his wrathful denunciations of the Y. M. C. A. for abetting the evil practice of cigarette smoking. Dr. Norris, incorrigible, escorted Chipps to the door.

Then again, in No-Ape Tennessee, Heretic John T. Scopes hearkened to alarming cries of Gospel-Truth Norris, winced under the hyperorthodoxy of the Baptist tsar from Texas. Mr. Chipps, according to Dr. Norris and his disciple, L. H. Nutt, refused to leave the parson's premises.

Baptist Norris with prodigious ire blasted the Modernists some time ago with a sentence, in scareheads on his Fundamentalist-Baptist Searchlight: "Judas Iscariot, when he betrayed his Lord with 'Hail, Master' on his lips, went and hung himself, but these modern Judases [Liberals] continue to occupy the pulpit and use the name of Christ and live off the money of orthodox people." Dr. Norris reached for a desk drawer. Pious Parson Norris was indicted in 1912 at Fort Worth for perjury and arson in connection with the burning of his church. Disciples did not desert him, rather increased in number. He has soaked Texas evangelical prospects in a religious fervor approaching fanaticism. Dr. Norris drew a pistol; shot. Mr. Chipps fell. Dr. Norris had sent three bullets into him. He died in an ambulance.

Ecclesiastic Norris has confidence. His minions have gathered about their shepherd in mesmerized faith. The Sabbath following the murder or manslaughter, he preached to a great audience in the warm First Baptist Church of Fort Worth. He walked uprightly at liberty under a $10,000-bond profferred by his congregation. As the disciples sweltered within the House of God, 700 voices sent hymn upon hymn ("There is Power in the Blood," "Shall we Gather at the River," "Standing on the Promises of God") reverberating to the roof, while two pianos, psychologically caressed by relaying pianists, furnished additional emotion.

Finally Divine Norris rose from behind the pulpit, leaned forward. His text: "There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus." (Romans 8.)

After the sermon, supplicating hundreds sought him out, saying unto him their congratulations, touching his robes, admiring the prophet. To them he called for conversions and five came and were redeemed. And they embraced him and he them. He pronounced his faith risen again, stronger than ever, chanting unto himself, "There is therefore now no condemnation to them which are in Christ Jesus."

Next day eloquent disciple J. J. Mickle told the press of a dark, "diabolical conspiracy;" the spell binding prophet spoke not.