Power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice, and justice at its best is power correcting everything that stands against love.

- Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

Saturday, December 18, 2010

The Conversion of John Humphrey Noyes

Early on I realized that if I wanted to understand the Oneida Community I had to learn what I could about its visionary leader, John Humphrey Noyes. Older community descendants that I met generally had a favorable impression of him. I assumed their impressions were mostly influenced by their parents, but their parents' generation, if they had known him, had known him only as young children. Some of their grandparents knew Noyes quite well, but the details of that knowledge seemed to me not to have been well preserved.

At the top of the main staircase in the Mansion House hang two portraits in oils: JHN and Harriet Holton, whom he married in 1838, ten years before the Oneida Community was founded. They stare out impassively, formally, not revealing much of themselves.

How then can anyone today understand the character of John Humphrey Noyes? He left an extensive record of his religious beliefs: books, articles, tracts, and pamphlets. He frequently gave lectures and “Home Talks.” As I read through this immense record I kept expecting to encounter something that would clearly reveal his motives or his personality. Noyes wrote about his beliefs in great detail, but he was not often self-reflective. Accordingly, much of what I know of him is conjecture based on his writing and the writings of those who knew him. Today's post focuses on how he came to adopt the core beliefs that ultimately led to the founding of the Oneida Community.

John Humphrey Noyes was born September 3, 1811 in Brattleboro, Vermont. His was a fairly well-to-do family. His father, also named John, owned a general store in Brattleboro called Noyes & Mann and served a term in the US House of Representatives. He was a cousin of Rutherford B. Hayes who would later become President. His mother, Polly Hayes, was sixteen years younger than his father. By all accounts she was a deeply religious woman. She claimed to have prayed before John Humphrey's birth that someday he might become a minister.

Young John H. Noyes apparently did not share his mother's religious devotion. He entered Dartmouth College in 1826 intending to become a lawyer, graduating in 1830. He then apprenticed himself to Larkin G. Mead, Esq. of Chesterfield NH, the husband of Noyes' oldest sister, Mary. As was the custom in those days before the advent of law schools, aspiring lawyers would “read” law for a few years with a practicing lawyer, then start to practice.
The first three decades of the 19th century was a time of profound social change in America. The population exploded from five to thirty million. The Louisiana Purchase vastly expanded the geographic reach of the nation. The early phases of industrialization began in the northeast. People were on the move. Canals, roads and then railroads crisscrossed the land. Towns and cities grew. Great numbers of people started to migrate west. The course of our relatively new nation had not yet been firmly set. Anything seemed possible.
One result of the uncertainty created by these massive social changes was a new religious fervor. In my view the rise of a new evangelical christianity, generally labeled “perfectionism,” was a response to a new American spirit of optimism and openness to possibility. The dark Congregationalist view of sinners in the hands of an angry God was supplanted by the idea that salvation can be achieved by living a righteous life. Historians call this religious movement, based on the idea of the perfectibility of the individual believer, the Second Great Awakening.
At his mother's urging, Noyes attended a four-day revival meeting in Putney, Vermont, under the ministry of the most famous perfectionist preacher of the time, Charles Grandison Finney. He was just 20 years old when he converted to evangelical Christianity on Sept. 18, 1831. Within the month he had enrolled in the Andover Theological Seminary. Then in August 1832 he transferred to the Yale Theological Seminary, arguably the leading school for religious training in the country. He finished the basic course of study for the ministry in August 1833 and received his license to preach.
While at Yale, Noyes began to question the basic Congregationalist doctrine that everyone is essentially sinful and can only be saved from damnation by the unknowable grace of God. Instead he adopted Finney's view that salvation from sin is accomplished at conversion. Noyes came to believe that God would not expect the impossible from believers, and that the moral perfection God demanded could be accomplished by living a righteous life. Perhaps one of the reasons Noyes adopted this doctrine was the fact that he never could summon up from within himself any genuine feeling of deep guilt or despair that he felt must accompany the reality of original sin.
As part of his Bible studies at Yale, Noyes also reached the conclusion that the second coming of Christ and the final judgment day predicted in the Bible had actually arrived without fanfare in 70 A.D. This conclusion was based on his interpretation of Christ's prediction that the millennium would arrive within one generation. Deriving the date of the millennium from Bible sources was a recurrent theme in revivalist preaching in the early 19th Century, most famously with the Millerites (the original Seventh Day Adventists). The significance of the belief that the millennium had already occurred was that some part of the population unknowingly had their original sin absolved, and thus they were now spiritually capable of leading lives free from sin.
Noyes had been attending services at the perfectionist-influenced Free Church of New Haven. At the evening service on Feb. 20, 1834 Noyes announced his perfectionist views to the congregation. He confessed that at his conversion he knew he had truly been saved from sin, and that he knew it was possible for persons so converted to lead a life free from sin. In memory of the day Noyes publicly embraced the doctrine of perfectionism, members of the Oneida Community marked February 20 with a celebration called the "high tide of the spirit."
News of Noyes's statements immediately became known throughout the Seminary. In April 1834 he was summoned for questioning. When Noyes would not recant or admit any error, the church authorities revoked his license to preach and expelled him. This prompted Noyes' famous saying, "I have taken away their license to sin and they keep on sinning. They have taken away my license to preach and I keep on preaching."
Between 1834 and 1838 Noyes traveled, preached and wrote extensively. The manner in which he assembled the practical elements of his own version of perfectionism will be the subject of another post.

Saturday, December 11, 2010

OC - First Visit

My first visit to the Oneida Community Mansion House was in June 1988. I had arrived in Central New York only a few weeks earlier to seek my fortune as a small town lawyer. I was thirty nine years old. I tried law practice for two years in Vermont, but it turned out not to be right for me. A close friend, EveAnn Shwartz, was the law partner of Paul V. Noyes. She convinced me (and her partners) that it made sense for me to join their three-person law firm on a part-time basis. I moved to Hamilton to help EveAnn operate the satellite office there. Paul ran the main office in Sherrill with Randy Schaal. The second time I met with Paul, he took me to the Mansion House for lunch.

As we drove through the little city of Sherrill, Paul made occasional obscure references to “the Company,” “the CAC” and “the Community.” Since I am something of a history buff, I had a vague recollection of the Oneida Community as one of the more successful 19th century religious utopian communities that sprung up everywhere just prior to the Civil War. It had not occurred to me that there would be any remnant of this religious community a hundred and fifty years later or that Community buildings were actually located near-by.

We crossed a little bridge. Paul announced we had entered “Kenwood.” He pointed out a little side street curiously called “The Orchard” and the shingled house where he grew up. A grand brick building that looked as though it had been air lifted in from Harvard was identified as “the Sales Office” of Oneida, Ltd, the famous silverware manufacturer. We turned right into a little lane passing woods on the left and a few houses backed by a golf course on the right. We soon drew up behind a very large brick building and entered by the back door. The large room we entered was mostly empty of furniture except for a couple of round tables and built-in benches along two sides under the windows. Paul tossed his hat and coat on a bench and walked over to some pigeon-holes along the inside wall. He checked his slot in the bank of old-fashioned mail boxes next to the bulletin board. Some living room furniture was arranged around a stone fireplace at the far end of the room. Paul gestured at the formal portrait over the mantel and said, “That's old PB, he saved the company.”

We passed through an arch on the right and crossed a small dining room. A couple of older women sat with their lunch at one of the tables. Paul took me over and introduced me to Betty Wayland-Smith and Barb Smith. I don't exactly remember now everyone he introduced me to that day but I seem to remember also meeting Jane Rich and Prue Wayland-Smith. Over the next few years these four lively Community descendents would prove to be valuable guides to me. The day after Thanksgiving this year (2010) I attended the memorial service of Jane Rich, the last of them to pass away.

We pushed through a swinging door and entered the kitchen. We took cafeteria trays and helped ourselves to a hearty salad bar. Behind a counter a cook pointed out what was on offer that day, simple, basic comfort food. As we ate in an alcove off the main dining room, Paul filled me in on some of the basics. He said he was a direct descendant of the founder, John Humphrey Noyes, or JHN as he familiarly referred to him as though he were still lurking about. After lunch Paul took me on a whirlwind walking tour of the house, winding through halls, past a beautiful library, up a wide staircase, past a glass Victorian “curiosity cabinet” and emerging in the Big Hall still set up for meetings as in the old days.

I was truly amazed. At the time I had no idea I would soon meet another community descendant, Merry Leonard, who is now my wife. I had no idea I would live for a decade in a house in the Orchard built close by the Mansion House grounds by Merry's grandparents. I had no idea I would one day be conducting tours of the Mansion House for visitors, or that I would for a time play a role in the effort to tell the history of the Community. All of this was still in the future.

What I did know on that day was that I had closely encountered an important piece of living American history. This was no re-creation or re-enactment. This was no museum display. Almost nothing was explained. It just was. I was astounded at the potent melding of past and present.

That day marked one of the most important turning points in my life, although I did not realize it at the time. Over time I've learned a lot about the Oneida Community. I'm still deeply fascinated by the sheer audacity of this particular utopian experiment and what it reveals about the human condition.

Over the next months I'll be posting the brief history of what I've learned.

Saturday, December 4, 2010

Brainpower

The culture of Upstate New York is centered in its six largest cities. Five are strung along the Thruway as it cuts west from Albany to Buffalo following the track of the Erie Canal. Albany, the capital, has always benefited from a large number of state employees. Utica benefited from nearby giant Griffiss Air Base, breweries and numerous manufacturing jobs in small factories filled by hard working immigrants, mostly Italian. Syracuse was a transportation hub and center of manufacturing with Carrier air conditioners, Crucible Steel and General Electric. Rochester still remembers the heyday of Kodak. Buffalo has a deep history of manufacturing, shipping and electricity generation. Binghamton, the only major upstate city not on the Thruway, had IBM, Endicott-Johnson shoes as well as a host of other manufacturing giants. At one time Upstate was a very good place for a person with a high-school diploma and a good work ethic.

In the twenty or so years I've lived in central New York all of this manufacturing has been radically scaled back or just shut down. Griffiss Air Base closed in 1995. The cities that were built on manufacturing and transportation now survive on retail, education, prisons, health care and social services. The population has slowly declined as young people look for better opportunities elsewhere. Central cities have generally emptied out. Suburbs sprawl. Almost all the major local retailers moved to malls, only to be displaced by chain stores filled with merchandise made elsewhere. A small core of middle class people continue to live in the better urban neighborhoods, but significant parts of all six cities are steadily deteriorating. A high-school diploma no longer assures steady well-paid work.

All this is not news to anyone living Upstate.

Merry, Joli and I have lived in Strathmore, a stable old residential neighborhood on the west side of Syracuse, since the spring of 1999. Our early 1900s vintage home was inexpensive compared to similar space in the suburbs while being architecturally distinctive. We like our neighborhood a lot. It's only a mile from downtown where I work. On fine days I can easily walk home if I choose to. There is a bus stop right across the street, so we function well with just one car. We have a beautiful park with a big lake only a block way. It's convenient to attend the Symphony, Syracuse Stage and numerous other cultural events. Restaurants are plentiful, dozens within a few minutes drive. We shop at a near-by family-owned grocery and buy local produce at the giant year-round regional farmer's market. High quality health care is nearby. City services such as street cleaning and garbage pick-up are free. Sounds great, right?

Almost all our friends live in the suburbs or in the country. They say they need good schools. They want to avoid poverty and crime. They want their kids to be safe. They spend a lot of time commuting, but they say it's worth it. They get depressed driving through blighted city neighborhoods. I don't blame them at all for these views. Unfortunately, urban flight makes the city's problems worse. With less people there is less money for city services, parks, and schools. As higher earners leave, overall prosperity in the city declines. The city's problems become self-perpetuating.

This pattern exists in all six upstate cities to a greater or lesser degree. Nonetheless some cities seem to be doing quite a bit better than others in holding off and even reversing urban decay. Albany always seems prosperous to me except for the very heart of downtown. Rochester, Syracuse and Buffalo all have partly deserted old downtowns but have thriving center city cultural institutions that seem to be keeping the heart of those cities alive. Binghamton seems to be struggling mightily. Utica has a few remaining bright spots but seems to be sinking.

An interesting snapshot of the health of America's cities was recently published by the financial website Portfolio.com. They used the latest census data to compare the combined education and income of residents age 25 and older for the 200 largest metropolitan areas. They derived a “brainpower” index that allowed ranking based on deviation from the national average, i.e. the top 100 cities were above the national average. Index scores ranged from plus 3.941 for Boulder, Colorado, to minus 2.558 for Merced, California.

I extracted the data for the six Upstate cities. This is the result:

National                    Grad/Prof    College  Some college  High School No
Rank        Index        Degree       Degree    up to Asso.     Degree       Degree  Pop 25+

28 Albany       0.939    14.83%   18.33%     28.89%        28.33%        9.62%     574,255

49 Rochester  0.632   13.05%   18.61%    29.08%         27.90%       11.37%    686,413

72 Syracuse   0.342    12.13%   16.44%   30.28%         30.45%       10.70%     427,645

77 Buffalo       0.299    12.52%   15.69%   29.65%         30.91%       11.23%    771,830

87 Binghamtn 0.096   11.26%   14.66%    31.59%          32.35%       10.13%    166,467

171 Utica        -0.909   07.56%   11.24%   32.23%          35.07%      13.90%     201,014



I found it interesting that five of the six Upstate cities ranked above average. Otherwise the index confirms my own impressions. Syracuse and Buffalo are doing a bit better than average probably due to colleges, hospitals and government services, but not nearly as well as Rochester and Albany. Binghamton is pretty close to the national average and Utica falls near the bottom.

When measuring quality of life, brainpower is not everything, but it does measure relative prosperity very well. Upstate has plentiful natural beauty and outdoor recreation. It has productive farmland. It has a rich and interesting cultural heritage. Nonetheless, I find these numbers tell a compelling story.