I was sorry to skip last week's blog post, but things just got too hectic around here. My kids have four paws and a tail each, and they're in no way getting ready to go back to school, but the end of summer seems to afflict my household with an uptick of activity nevertheless. Throw in the unsettled weather patterns we've been having lately, and your friendly neighborhood walking barometer finds herself down for the count more often than she'd like.
Fortunately for me, one good thing about history is that it happened in the past, so it doesn't seem to mind waiting around for me to catch up with it.
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| The marker stands at the intersection of Kissel Hill and Landis Valley Roads. |
The barn had been offered as the location for a "great meeting." What's so great about it, you might ask. Well, a great meeting was a fairly common event in rural parts of the commonwealth (and probably elsewhere) and had been for a few decades at this point. It was a large sort of faith revival at which people of the various Protestant branches would come together for fellowship and gospel preaching. Considering that a lot of these colonial settlers lived at a fair distance from each other, and regular church services weren't really a thing at the time, this provided them with a sense of community and a chance to meet and make friends. Isaac's barn had a large threshing floor and was ideal for hosting a sizeable crowd.
Philip was the younger of the two, though by only about a year. He was born in the Hesse region of Germany in 1726, and many of his relatives were clergymen. After completing studies at Herborn Academy, he was ordained in 1749, and left for missionary work in Pennsylvania. He reached New York in 1752, and traveled south to serve German-speaking parishes near the border of Pennsylvania and Maryland. Ten years later he married Susan Le Roy, of Lancaster, but the marriage lasted just six years and produced no children. Susan died in 1768, not long after the events of this blog post, and the heartbroken Philip never remarried. That's not artistic license on my part, by the way - he told people that he was too grief-stricken by Susan's loss to even consider marrying again.
Martin was born in Lancaster in 1725. His parents, Jacob and Barbara (Kendig) Boehm, were German immigrants of the Mennonite faith, and their son grew up in the same. He married Eve Steiner in 1753 and they had eight children; their youngest son Henry would follow in his father's clerical footsteps. However, unlike Philip, Martin had no formal training as a minister. He was chosen by lot in 1756 to serve as minister of his German-speaking Mennonite church, and he wrestled with the call, feeling unworthy. As he described it later, he didn't feel assured of the presence of Christ in his life, and for months he prayed for an experience that would deepen his personal beliefs. One day, he had an epiphany which brought him the assurance he craved, and from that day onward, his sermons were zealous and full of confidence. He became a Mennonite bishop in 1761.
It was about this epiphany, and his longing for that assurance, that Martin was preaching on the day he and Philip first met. Martin was a long-bearded Mennonite farmer; Philip was well-educated and had a manner that was described as stately. They were an odd couple. But they had common ground in that search for assurance, because Philip had gone through his own similar experience while pastoring in Lancaster in 1754, and Martin's description of his epiphany touched him deeply. When the bearded man had finished preaching, Philip stepped forward and embraced him, declaring that "Wir sind brüder!" (Literally, "We are brethren!")
That simple, heartfelt statement led to a movement, though that wasn't the intent and it took some time to get off the ground. The two men remained lifelong friends and worked closely together over the next several decades. Philip began teaching religious classes based on the Wesleyan method, and in 1774 he organized a splinter group which broke off of the German Reformed church in Baltimore and became the Second Evangelical Reformed Church. He served as this new church's pastor for the rest of his life, and the building in which he preached in Baltimore is still used as a Methodist church to this day. But while he continued to be a German Reformed clergyman, in 1798 he called for his friend Martin and some other clergy to visit his church and begin the work of organizing the movement to create a new denomination of Protestant Christianity. The following year, he wrote what was called a Confession of Faith, which they would use as the foundational beliefs of this new denomination. Another conference in 1800 furthered the cause; they adopted the name of the Church of the United Brethren in Christ, and Philip and Martin were elected its first bishops. That same year, Martin was expelled from the Mennonite faith for being too evangelical (and for being too friendly with non-Mennonites, although that reason was left unofficial), so he later became a member of the Methodist church as well as the United Brethren, and served as bishop for both. However, in 2016, the expulsion was overturned and he was posthumously restored to the status of Bishop Emeritus of the Mennonite faith.
Just as they had been born roughly a year apart, the two friends also died roughly a year apart. Martin died in 1812 and is buried in the grounds at the chapel he founded, Boehm's Chapel, in the community of Willow Street in Lancaster County. Philip died the following year, but I haven't found a source that confirms his final resting place. The church they founded outlived them, of course, although its members did not refer to themselves as a church during the men's lifetimes. They established their constitution in 1841, finalizing Philip's Confession of Faith and confirming how the church would be run, and itinerant preachers began carrying the message west into the expanding frontier. In 1847 they opened Otterbein University, the first United Brethren College, in Westerville, Ohio. In 1855 they began expanding into foreign ministry by sending missionaries to Sierra Leone.
And then came the division. Doesn't it always? In 1889, a disagreement arose over proposed changes to the church constitution. This resulted in two separate factions, though they both identified themselves as United Brethren. The faction which wanted the changes called themselves the New Constitution United Brethren. They later merged with the Evangelical Church in 1946, forming the Evangelical United Brethren Church, and then in 1968 joined with the Methodist church and they all together became the United Methodist Church. The other faction, which preferred to retain the original Constitution and Confession of Faith, remained and continues to be known as the Church of the United Brethren in Christ to this day. They were led, following the schism, by Bishop Milton Wright. You've probably never heard of him, but I know you've almost certainly heard of his kids - specifically his sons, Orville and Wilbur.
As for Isaac Long's barn, where it all began, I don't have a photo to show you because I haven't been to see it. But it's still standing, as is the farmhouse which dates from the same year. It's private property, in fact, and today is in the hands of the Landis family, who pride themselves on being 10th generation Lancaster County farmers. The barn remains part of the Long Farm Meats operation. Like I mentioned at the beginning, it was built in 1754, which makes it the earliest-known Pennsylvania German barn still in existence today, and the house retains the only surviving 18th-century clay tile roof in all of Lancaster County. In addition to the PHMC marker, there's another historical marker on the property giving more details about the significance of the farm to American and religious history, so when I get out that way and I'm able to see it in person, I'll come back and share photos.
Sources and Further Reading:
Except where indicated, all writing and photography on this blog is the intellectual property of Laura Klotz. This blog is written with permission of the Pennsylvania Historical and Museum Commission. I am not employed by the PHMC. All rights reserved.
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