Bishop Scarborough's Convention Address of 1890: Staking out a Place for Black Churches in the Diocese of New Jersey

The Rt Rev. John Scarborough (1831-1914), from William Stevens Perry, The Bishops 

of the American Church, Past and Present (New York: The Christian Literature Co., 1897), 

marked as public domain, more details on Wikimedia Commons.

In his diocesan convention address of 1890, Bishop John Scarborough discussed the place of African Americans in the ministry of the diocese. This was the first such public statement at a convention of the Diocese of New Jersey. Bishop Doane had at times mentioned St. Philip’s, Newark when it had been part of the diocese, and had spoken of the debt owed to that congregation by the rest of the diocese.[1] He had also invited support for the Episcopal mission to Liberia.[2] However, no bishop had previously mused in such a setting on the general state of ministry to Black people in the diocese, nor had any articulated a mandate or strategy for their incorporation into Episcopal life generally. This development constituted a significant step for an almost entirely White diocese, and the details of Scarborough’s statement indicate both the difficulties confronting Black Episcopal life in the diocese at that time, and the approach that would be taken in subsequent decades. He wrote:

Hitherto there has been little effort made on the part of our Church in this Diocese to reach the colored population, resident in and near its large cities. Formerly there was a feeble mission at Macedonia, near Eatontown, but it gradually died out, and the chapel is now used as a school-house. For some time past the Rev. Mr. Townsend, of St. John's, Camden, has had a most prosperous mission in that city, where the colored people are very numerous. It is named after the great Bishop of Hippo, St. Augustine, and its rapid growth has been both a revelation and a surprise to me. During the past year I confirmed forty-two in that modest chapel, and I venture to say the service was as reverent and hearty as any in the Diocese. If the work continues to grow and prosper, as it bids fair to do, I can see new responsibilities in it for the city and the Diocese. Why should we leave the colored people to the care of other Christian bodies? Liturgic worship and a well-ordered ritual are just suited to their temperament. And why should we send our money to the South to build churches and chapels when we have the same work at our own doors, and are leaving it undone? Clearly this work will soon outgrow the ability of a struggling parish to carry it on, and the question will force itself upon us: What are we going to do with that long list of communicants who have cast in their lot with us? We dare not leave them unshepherded, and we will not drive them into schism by cold neglect! We can solve the race problem very glibly for South Carolina and Georgia. Can we solve it for New Jersey? It may be said that in the Church of Christ there should be no distinction of race or color; that all should meet together and be one in the assembly of God's people, as well as one in hope and doctrine. But those most competent to judge are agreed that a separate place of worship is best for all interests. The colored folk will not attend where they are, perhaps, not made welcome, or feel themselves to be intruders. They prefer to worship by themselves, separate and apart from their white brethren. It may be that God is opening up for us here a new field for our missionary energy, to quicken and excite our enthusiasm. I dare say other cities might follow the example of Camden and organize missions for this neglected class—neglected certainly in our ministrations. They will be quick to respond to any effort, and will gladly take the hand out-stretched.[3]

 

From his statement we can learn a number of things about the state of affairs regarding Black ministry in the diocese at that time.

            Perhaps most obviously, he admits to the presence of racism in the diocese, suggesting that White Episcopalians do not welcome Black Christians into their churches. He states that this has resulted in broad “neglect” of African Americans in the efforts of the churches of the diocese, and that Black Christians have been “left” to the care of other denominations. He even highlights the common preference among White Episcopalians for giving what limited attention and resources can be mustered for solving race-related issues to addressing such problems elsewhere (e.g. the American South)[4] rather than in their own communities. 

Scarborough mentions some of the small attempts at ministry to African Americans in the diocese, though the “feeble”[5] ministry to the inhabitants of the Black settlement at Macedonia (in Tinton Falls) and the atypical outreach by Rev. Townsend to African Americans in Camden serve to prove the case of overall neglect rather than contradict it. These efforts also show the pattern of ministry to African Americans that was developing in the diocese: rather than produce integrated congregations, the predominant model (which had already begun to develop while slavery was fully legal) was one of segregated ministry.[6]

            Though acknowledging ingrained White racism in his churches, Bishop Scarborough did not openly denounce it, and his blanket assumptions about all African Americans appear to indicate that he too may have held certain prejudicial views.[7] Nevertheless, he insisted that the Episcopal Church in New Jersey no longer neglect ministry to Black Christians in the state, and he articulated what he saw to be a feasible path forward in spite of the obstacles presented by racist White congregations: increased diocesan support for dedicated Black missions, churches, and ministries. This model of segregated Black congregations would become the dominant mode of growth among Black congregants in the state through the subsequent decades.[8] Diocesan support for segregated Black Episcopal Churches also opened the door to the affirmation of ordained Black clergy in the diocese, begun through the invitation in 1903 by Bishop Scarborough to the Rev. August Jensen to minister in the segregated mission at St. Augustine’s, Asbury Park, but continued by many others thereafter.

 

Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski, Ph.D.

Reparations Commission Research Historian

Episcopal Diocese of New Jersey

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[1] George W. Doane, Diocese of New Jersey: The Episcopal Address, to the Seventy-First Annual Convention, in Grace Church, Newark, Wednesday, May 31, 1854 (Burlington: Printed at the Gazette Office, 1854), 14.

[2] George W. Doane, Episcopal Address Delivered at the Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church, in the State of New-Jersey; May 28, 1834 (Camden: Josiah Harrison, 1834), 33.

[3] The Protestant Episcopal Church in the Diocese of New Jersey, Journal of the Proceedings of the One Hundred and Eighteenth Convention, Being the One Hundred and Fifth Year of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the Diocese of New Jersey; Held in St. Mary’s Church, Burlington, Tuesday, May 6^th, and Wednesday, May 7^th, 1890. Together with Appendices and the Episcopal Address (Princeton: The Princeton Press, 1890), pp. 168-169.

[4] Priests at this time are thinking, in particular, of the debates in South Carolina and Georgia dioceses over whether to admit Black congregations with full rights. See David M. Reimers, “Negro Bishops and Diocesan Segregation in the Protestant Episcopal Church: 1870-1954,” Historical Magazine of the Protestant Episcopal Church 31.3 (1962): 232.

[5] Then shuttered.

[6] This was the default model throughout much of the Episcopal Church through at least 1955. See Harold L. Lewis, “Racial Concerns in the Episcopal Church Since 1973,” Anglican and Episcopal History 67.4 (1998): 468.

[7] As perhaps indicated by his universal statements about Black people’s “temperament” or that they are “quick to respond to any effort.” This latter comment expresses a particularly untethered sentiment given the generally acknowledged aversion many Black Americans have had to the Episcopal church in light of its “failure to take any definitive action” during the Civil War or Reconstruction which “spelt disaster for its already unenthusiastic mission among Black Americans.” On this issue see, for example, Robert A. Bennet, “Black Episcopalians: A History From The Colonial Period To The Present,” Historical Magazine of the Protestant Episcopal Church 43.3 (1974): 238-239.

[8] At the time of its publication in 1922, George F. Bragg’s History of the African-American Group of the Episcopal Church ([Baltimore: Church Advocate Press, 1922], 215) listed seven Black congregations in the Diocese of New Jersey ministering to 768 communicants.

NEWS: New York State Approves Formal Reparations Commission

Good news from New York! Governor Hochul has signed a bill approving the creation of an investigative Commission on the subject of reparations for slavery. In her public statements she admits not only that many New Yorkers profited from slavery, but that the negative effects of slavery are still felt to this day by Black New Yorkers. The Commission will make non-binding formal recommendations within a year of beginning its work. A similar bill is being considered in the New Jersey legislature at this time.

The Earliest (Formal) Black Church Leadership in the Diocese of New Jersey

Before the Civil War there were few outlets for formally recognized Black leadership in the Diocese of New Jersey. James C. Ward, an ordained deacon and schoolteacher who temporarily transferred his canonical residency from Pennsylvania to New Jersey, and, as such, was the first ordained Black man in the diocese in 1830, quickly moved to Maryland as he found a more hospitable teaching appointment there.[1] It was not for decades after the civil war before another Black man was approved for ordained ministry in the diocese.[2] There were at times, however, modest, but formally recognized outlets for Black men to exercise church leadership.

 An excerpt of the diocesan convention proceedings journal of 1865,
showing licensed lay readers (appearing as a subsection of the list
of clergy) including Elias Kay [sic] and Daniel Landin.

One occasion for this diocesan affirmation of Black leadership came after the founding of St. Philip’s Episcopal Church in Newark, an “African” parish formed mostly by former attendees of Trinity Church, Newark.[3] Though the first several priests of the congregation were White, and the diocesan treatment of the parish was paternalistic,[4] the lay leadership was, of course, Black and the first leader to be formally licensed as a “reader” for the congregation was Elias Ray.[5] He was a frequent diocesan convention representative of St. Philip’s, starting as early as 1858,[6] and was licensed as a “lay reader” on September 10, 1864.[7] A “lay reader” leads the liturgy in the absence of a priest, though does not consecrate the eucharist. This was viewed as an important role at the diocesan level, to the point that the diocesan convention journals of the time list licensed lay readers alongside active priests and deacons, but not wardens or vestry members. Jacob Rhodes was also licensed to serve at St. Philip’s under Rev. Dr. Rees on July 22, 1867 and served in that capacity for a couple of years.[8] Various other Black men and women have led St. Philip’s as wardens, vestrymen, and diocesan convention representatives (among other capacities) from the earliest time of its formation[9] in 1848 to the present day.

            Another Black leader in the diocese at this time was Daniel B. Landin. He was actually the first licensed lay reader in the diocese, being licensed for service (slightly before Elias Ray, in April 19, 1863) in the mission at the African-American settlement known as “Macedonia” (in Tinton Falls) which was sponsored by Christ Church, Shrewsbury.[10] He was the teacher for the “colored” school, also sponsored by Christ Church, that counted many pupils among the residents of “Macedonia.”[10]

            The last time Daniel Landin and Elias Ray are listed as “lay leaders” in the diocesan records is 1874. By the time of the diocesan convention of 1875 (post-split) Landin was apparently no longer holding this office, and Elias Ray, along with St. Philip’s, was now part of the diocese of Newark. It seems likely there was some significant shakeup at the Macedonia mission when the diocese split. There was a new rector at Christ Church, and soon after the responsibility for the Macedonia mission was passed to St. James Memorial Church, Eatontown. The mission seems to have shrunk after Daniel Landin stopped serving as lay reader (and teacher). By 1883 the mission had only four families involved (though one had a son studying out-of-state for the priesthood),[12] and soon after that, folded.[13]

St. Philips would not have a Black clergyman for decades yet, and no Black man would be allowed to serve in a sustained ordained ministry in the diocese of New Jersey until August Jensen was invited by Bishop Scarborough beginning in 1903 at Asbury Park.[14]

 

Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski, Ph.D.

Reparations Commission Research Historian

Episcopal Diocese of New Jersey

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[1] Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski, “Rev. James C. Ward (1777-1834), the first African American clergyman in the Diocese of New Jersey,” Diocese of New Jersey Racial Justice Review (October 9, 2023): https://dionj-racialjusticereview.blogspot.com/2023/10/rev-james-c-ward-1777-1834-first.html, last accessed 12/1/23.

[2] It is true that Bishop Doane (of New Jersey) worked to support the seminary admission and ordination of Alexander Crummell, but that process took place largely outside of New Jersey and involved Doane due to his role on the board of trustees of General Seminary in New York City. See Craig Steven Wilder, “‘Driven… from the School of the Prophets’: The Colonizationist Ascendance at General Theological Seminary,” New York History 93.4 (2012): 157-85.

[3] Anne Calloway and Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski (ed.), “A History of Trinity and St. Philip’s Cathedral: Slavery, Racism, and Renewal in ‘God’s House,’” Diocese of New Jersey Racial Justice Review (September 25, 2023): https://dionj-racialjusticereview.blogspot.com/2023/09/a-history-of-trinity-and-st-philips.html, last accessed 12/1/23.

[4] See, e.g., The Rt. Rev. George Washington Doane, D.D., LL.D., Diocese of New Jersey: The Episcopal Address, to the Seventy-Third Annual Convention, in Trinity Church, Newark, Wednesday, May 28, 1856 (Burlington: Samuel C. Atkinson, 1856), 17: “It was [a] matter of great joy to me to meet these simple-minded, earnest, people…[they] have my warmest sympathies.”

[5] Listed in some records as “Elias Kay.”

[6] Diocese of New Jersey, Journal of Proceedings of the Seventy-Fifth Annual Convention in Trinity Church, Newark, on Wednesday, 26 May, 1858 (Burlington: Franklin Ferguson, Printer, Broad Street, 1858), 11.

[7] Diocese of New Jersey, Journal of the Proceedings of the Eighty-Second Annual Convention Held in St. Mary’s Church, Burlington, on Wednesday, May 31^st 1865 (Philadelphia: J. B. Chandler, 1865), 154.

[8] Diocese of New Jersey, Journal of the Eighty-Fifth Annual Convention. 1868. (New York: John W. Amerman, 1868), 171.

[9] Among these early lay leaders were Elias Ray, Nicholas Duffin, Samuel Thompkins, John and Peter O’Fake, Elias and George Mitchell, and Jacob Rhodes. See Calloway and Pruszinski, “A History of Trinity and St. Philip’s Cathedral.” See also Diocese of New Jersey Convention Journals from 1848 to 1874.

[10] Diocese of New Jersey, Journal of the Proceedings of the Eighty-First Annual Convention Held in Grace Church, Newark, on Wednesday and Thursday, May 25^th and 26^th 1864 (Philadelphia: J.B. Chandler, 1864), 73.

[11] Ibid., 133.

[12] Diocese of New Jersey, Journal of the Proceedings of the One Hundred and Eleventh Convention, Being the Ninety-Eighth Year of the Protestant Episcopal Church, In the Diocese of New Jersey, Held in St. Paul’s Church, Camden, Tuesday, May 8^th, and Wednesday, May 9^th, 1883 (Princeton: C.S. Robinson & Co., 1883), 131.

[13] That’s how Bishop Scarborough describes its state (defunct) in 1890: The Right Reverend John Scarborough, D.D., “The Episcopal Address to the One Hundred and Sixth Annual Convention in St. Mary’s Church, Burlington, May 6, 1890,” in Diocese of New Jersey, Journal of the Proceedings of the One Hundred and Eighteenth Convention, Being the One Hundred and Fifth Year of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the Diocese of New Jersey; Held in St. Mary’s Church, Burlington, Tuesday, May 6^th, and Wednesday, May 7^th, 1890 (Princeton: The Princeton Press, 1890), 155-173, here 168.

[14] At least, as far as our research has yet found. George F. Bragg, History of the African-American Group of the Episcopal Church (Baltimore: Church Advocate Press, 1922), 177.

Early African Mission Giving (Foreign) in the Diocese of New Jersey (1835-1865)

Figure 1: Promotional Materials for the Episcopal African Mission. Detail of “Episcopal 

Mission Buildings, Fishtown or Fairhaven, Nine Miles North of Cape Palmas, W. A.,” 

from Protestant Episcopal Church in the U.S.A., An Historical Sketch of the African 

Mission of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the U.S.A. (New York: Foreign Committee, 1884), 14.

The first instance in the Diocese of New Jersey of reported funds being specifically and separately designated for “African mission” giving was in 1835.[1] This followed the exhortation given by Bishop Doane in his 1834 diocesan convention address,[2] in which he encouraged churches within the diocese to support the fledgling Episcopal mission to the region of west Africa that would later become Liberia.[3] In 1835 six of the thirty-two churches in the diocese took up this call and among them collected a total of $18.15.[4]
            At this time, dedicated ministry to African-Americans within the diocese was very limited. According to diocesan records[5] St. John’s Church, Elizabethtown periodically ran a segregated Sunday School starting in 1818, initially said to have 20 students of color,[6] but it does not appear to have been in operation consistently. Baptisms of African American “domestics” are specifically mentioned in the diocesan reporting of St. Peter’s Church, Spotswood, and we know that multiple other churches performed similar baptisms at this time. In 1832 the diocesan Sunday School Society noted 23 “coloured children” participating in its schools,[7] but this modest number only accounts for five percent of total students. In 1834 Trinity Newark reported that it was running a segregated “coloured infant school,” but no similar school for older children. All this is to say, only limited attention had been given to ministry specifically to African-Americans in the diocese at the time. 
            Over the following decades, giving to the African mission continued, and generally increased (see Table 1),[8] however, in many ways this giving operated as an outlet for White Episcopal “philanthropy” ostensibly aimed at Black people, while never actually challenging either the status quo of their treatment within the Diocese or White Episcopalian control.
            The African mission of the Episcopal church was born of much the same impetus that formed the American Colonization Society (ACS), an organization committed to removing freed Black people from the United States and using them to colonize Africa.[9] This idea was promoted as beneficial for Africans, who would receive the influence of western culture and Christianity from African-American settlers, for freed African-Americans, who would have an opportunity to thrive independently from Whites (assuming they could never do so in a majority-White society), and for White Americans who felt threatened by the presence of free Black people in the United States and that the presence of free Blacks created a difficulty for the effective functioning of a slave society. Though the work was presented as “charitable,” on each of the aforementioned counts the plan was clearly racist, and nearly all African Americans rejected the scheme and the ACS.[10] Nevertheless, the Episcopal Church actively cooperated with the ACS in the colonial-missionary enterprise, particularly at its founding, and Churches within the Diocese of New Jersey continued to support the ACS (see Table 2) in parallel to their support for the Episcopal African Mission (though donations to the Episcopal African Mission giving eventually well outpaced ACS giving in the Diocese). 
            Essentially, the African Mission was viewed by White Episcopalians as a way of “giving back” to formerly enslaved Black people, while also removing them from the U.S., and simultaneously Christianizing Africa (a win-win-win in the racist imagination). This giving and attention paid to the African Mission also enabled churches in the Diocese to ignore the needs of their free and enslaved African-American neighbors, and little designated giving or program for domestic African-American ministries in the diocese developed until after the Civil War. Further, the governance structure of the African Mission for decades privileged the leadership and authority of White Americans (including the long-governing first Bishop of Liberia, John Payne). Thus the effect of African Mission giving in the diocese during this period was to siphon money and concern away from potential use in domestic African American ministry and toward a largely White-controlled foreign mission significantly aligned with the goal of the removal of African-Americans from the U.S. and the promotion of western cultural hegemony in Africa.
            During this period African Americans in the Diocese of New Jersey, almost without exception, continued to be consigned to marginal status, excluded from leadership, relegated to balconies and segregated seating, and, in general, treated as second-class citizens even when free (their baptisms and confirmations are often reported as if they were unusual events). The only significant Black ministries begun during this time (of otherwise absolutely exponential growth in the diocese)[11] were St. Philip’s (African) Church, Newark (admitted to the diocese in 1848),[12] the outreach ministry of Christ Church, Shrewsbury in the “African” settlement of Macedonia in Tinton Falls,[13] and a small handful of segregated parish schools including those at St. Peter’s Church, Perth Amboy,[14] St. Michael’s Church, Trenton,[15] Trinity Church, Princeton,[16] and Christ Church, Shrewsbury.[17] These schools were typically, though not always,[18] taught by White teachers, and oriented toward keeping Black students “in their place.” The funding for these domestic Black ministries constituted a vanishingly small percentage of church and diocesan budgets, certainly in no way approaching an amount commensurate with the proportional representation of African Americans in the general population at the time. African Mission giving among the White churches diverted (already meager) funds and concern away from domestic Black ministries and was part of a culture in the diocese at the time that prioritized maintenance of a status quo oriented around Black marginalization.
            
Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski, Ph.D.
Reparations Commission Research Historian
Episcopal Diocese of New Jersey
 

 

Table 1: Congregational Giving to the Africa Mission in the Diocese of New Jersey (through 1865)[19]

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1835, St. Peter’s Church, Perth Amboy:                    $2.50.

1835, St. Andrew’s Church, Mount Holly:                 $8.88.

1835, St. Mark’s Church, Orange:                              $5.00.

1835, St. James’ Church, Piscataway[20]:                 $0.09.

1835, Trinity Church, Woodbridge:                           $0.61.

1835, St. James Church, Knowlton:                           $1.07.

1836, St. Luke’s Church, Hope:                                  $0.62.

1840, Christ Church, Shrewsbury:                             $3.08.

1841, Christ Church, Shrewsbury:                             $5.13.

1842, Christ Church, Shrewsbury:                             $5.25.

1842, St. John’s Church, Elizabethtown:                   $21.43.

1847, St. Paul’s Church, Hoboken:                              $10.00.

1851, St. Peter’s Church, Berkeley at Clarksboro:    $28.00.

1852, Christ Church, Shrewsbury[21]:                       $2.00.

1852, St. Peter’s Church, Berkeley at Clarksboro:    $22.00.

1853, St. John’s Church, Elizabethtown:                    $1.32.

1853, St. Peter’s Church, Berkeley at Clarksboro:    $42.25.

1854, St. Peter’s Church, Berkeley at Clarksboro:    $37.23.

1854, St. Stephen’s Church, Mullica Hill:                   $9.27.

1855, St. Peter’s Church, Berkeley at Clarksboro:    $36.43.

1855, St. Stephen’s Church, Mullica Hill to:              $8.00.

1856, St. Peter’s Church, Berkeley, at Clarksboro:   $46.61.

1856, St. Peter’s Church, Morristown[22]:                $5.00.

1856, Church of the Redeemer, Morristown[23]:    $???. 

1857, St. John’s Church, Salem[24]:                            $62.00. 

1857, St. Peter’s Ch., Berkeley at Clarksboro[25]:    $142.72.

1857, St. Stephen’s Church, Beverly:                          $75.00.

1857, Trinity Church, Hoboken[26]:                           $20.00.

1858, St. Peter’s Church, Berkeley in Clarksboro:    $52.00.

1858, St. Stephen’s Church, Beverley:                       $75.00.

1858, Trinity Church, Hoboken[27]:                          $20.00.

1859, St. Peter’s Church, Perth Amboy:                    $120.00.

1859, St. Stephen’s Church, Beverly:                         $60.00.

1859, Grace Church, Jersey City:                               $2.00.

1860, St. Stephen’s Church, Beverly:                         $50.00.

1861, Trinity Church, Princeton:                                $66.54.

1861, Christ Church, Bordentown:                             $17.50.

1861, St. Stephen’s Church, Beverly:                          $40.00.

1862, St. Andrew’s Church, Mount Holly:                 $1.00.

1862, Christ Church, Allentown:                                $23.50.

1862, St. Stephen’s Church, Beverly:                         $30.00.

1863, Christ Church, Allentown:                                $37.00.

1863, Grace Church, Crosswicks:                              $4.00.

1863, St. Andrew’s Church, Mount Holly:                 $1.00.

1864, Christ Church, Allentown:                                $47.50.

1864, Grace Church, Crosswicks:                              $9.00.

1865, Grace Church, Crosswicks:                              $7.00.

Overall Total (1835-1865)[28] =                                  $1202.53

 

Table 2: Congregational Giving to the American Colonization Society (ACS) in the Diocese of New Jersey[29]

--------------------------------------------------------------

1834, Trinity Church, Newark:                      $17.43.

1834, St. Peter’s Church, Perth Amboy:        $14.00

1835, St. Peter’s Church, Perth Amboy:        $6.68

1836, St. Peter’s Church, Perth Amboy:        $7.50

1837, St. Peter’s Church, Perth Amboy:        $6.70

1838, St. Peter’s Church, Perth Amboy:        $6.30

1838, Christ Church, New Brunswick:          $7.00.

1839, St. Peter’s Church, Perth Amboy:        $7.00.

1840, St. Peter’s Church, Perth Amboy[30]: $5.725.

1841, St. Peter’s Church, Perth Amboy:         $8.00.

1842, St. Peter’s Church, Perth Amboy:        $15.00

1856, St. John’s Church, Somerville:             $49.00.

Overall Total:                                                   $150.335

 

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[1] The Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New Jersey, Journal of the Fifty Second Annual Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church, in the State of New Jersey; Held in St. Mary’s Church, Burlington, on Wednesday the 27^th, and Thurday the 28^th Days of May, 1835 (Burlington, NJ: The Missionary Press, 1835), 12-27.

[2] George W. Doane, Episcopal Address Delivered at the Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church, in the State of New-Jersey; May 28, 1834 (Camden: Josiah Harrison, 1834), 33.

[3] For more on the history of the mission see D. Elwood Dunn, A History of the Episcopal Church in Liberia 1821-1980 (London: Scarecrow Press, 1992), and James T. Yarsiah, The Episcopal Church – Early Missionaries in Liberia 1821-1871: Positive and Negative Impact of Missionary Activities (Saarbrucken: LAP LAMBERT Academic Publishing, 2014). For a rather hagiographic promotional account see The Protestant Episcopal Church, An Historical Sketch of the African Mission of the Protestant Episcopal Church in the U.S.A. (New York: Foreign Committee, 1884).

[4] Even so, in 1835 dollars this is not a lot of dollars, and six out of thirty-two churches is only 18.75%.

[5] Gleaned from yearly convention journal reporting.

[6] There is no discrete financial accounting reported for this school in diocesan convention journal annual reports of the time.

[7] Cost to educate is not broken out, nor are the number of the “coloured” scholars listed by participating church. See The Protestant Episcopal Church in the State of New Jersey, Journal of the Proceedings of the Forty-Ninth Annual Convention of the Protestant Episcopal Church, in the State of New Jersey (New Brunswick: Terhune & Letson, 1832), 33.

[8] Though the total number of churches giving in any particular year (through the end of the civil war) never exceeded the initial six in 1835. See Table 1 for the record of giving.

[9] Bishop Doane’s elision of these ideas in his aforementioned address in 1834 is indicative. 

[10] See all of Ousmane K. Power-Greene, Against Wind and Tide: The African American Struggle against the Colonization Movement (New York: New York University Press, 2014).

[11] Doane’s tenure from 1832 to 1859 saw the number of churches in the diocese increase from 32 to 85, clergy from 18 to 98, and communicants from approximately 800 to 5000. See Nelson Burr, The Anglican Church in New Jersey (Philadelphia: The Church Historical Society, 1954), 478.

[12] The long financial hardship of which is indicated, in part, by pleas from Doane for support. See, for example, The Rt. Rev. George Washington Doane, D.D., LL.D., Diocese of New Jersey: The Episcopal Address, to the Seventy-First Annual Convention, in Grace Church, Newark, Wednesday, May 31, 1854 (Burlington: Printed at the Gazette Office, 1854), 14.

[13] First mentioned in parochial annual reports to the diocese in 1854.

[14] First mentioned in parochial annual reports to the diocese in 1856.

[15] First mentioned in parochial annual reports to the diocese in 1860.

[16] A segregated school was run out of the church and supported by its leadership, though it appears that it may formally have been a separate project not reported in diocesan records. It seems it was intended to provide a school for Black children taught by White teachers as an alternative to the other segregated school in town run by local African-American leader Betsey Stockton. See Kyra N. Pruszinski and Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski (ed.), “Trinity Church, Princeton and Slavery: A Brief Introduction,” Diocese of New Jersey Racial Justice Review (April 10, 2023), https://dionj-racialjusticereview.blogspot.com/2023/04/trinity-church-princeton-and-slavery.html, last accessed October 10, 2023. 

[17] First mentioned in parochial annual reports to the diocese in 1854.

[18] The annual parochial report to the diocese in 1857 suggests that Christ Church, Shrewsbury had hired John N. Still, a “colored” teacher for their segregated “African” school of 112 students.

[19] As reported in diocesan convention journals (1835-1865).

[20] Nine cents is not a typo.

[21] Christ Church Shrewsbury reported jointly with Christ Church, Middletown and Trinity Chapel, Red Bank.

[22] Specifically designated for “Leacock Fund, Africa.”

[23] The annual report by Rev. J. H. Tyng states that the “interest of the Sunday school is devoted to the African Mission” but no specific financial numbers of any kind appear in his report.

[24] This giving is designated for “Foreign Miss.” and Africa is mentioned, but no specific dollar amount for funds dedicated to the African mission particularly are specified.

[25] Specifically designated for “Mrs. Thompson, Africa.” so in this unusual instance, the gift is designated specifically for a Black missionary.

[26] Specifically designated for “Grace Wright” scholarship in Africa.

[27] Again, designated for the “Grace Wright” scholarship in Africa.

[28] This table does not include general account Foreign Missions giving during this period, which, at least during the tenure of Bishop Payne (Liberia) went more to the Liberia Mission than any other mission. Dunn, A History of the Episcopal Church in Liberia 1821-1980, 96.

[29] As reported in diocesan convention journals (1834-1865).

[30] This donation does in fact include a half-penny.

VIDEO: NJISJ History of Segregation in New Jersey, Public Session #2 Recording

 

The New Jersey Institute for Social Justice (NJISJ) has posted video from the second of nine public sessions sponsored by the New Jersey Reparations Council, held on December 4, 2023. The content deals with the history of segregation in New Jersey. Scholars and activists speaking included Dwayne Wharton, Jean-Pierre Brutus, Richard Smith, Dennis Parker, Maisha Simmons, Ryan Haygood, Khalil Gibran Muhammed, Jacob Faber, James Williams IV, Leticia Smith-Evans Haynes, and David Troutt. It is worth your time.

NEWS: Second Public Session of the History of Slavery in New Jersey Committee, 12/4/23 at 6:30pm

The History of Slavery in New Jersey Committee of the New Jersey Reparations Council, convened by the New Jersey Institute for Social Justice (NJISJ), will hold its second remote public meeting on Monday December 4, 2023 at 6:30pm, Eastern time. The Committee will share further details about its work and receive input from stakeholders and community members. This will be the second of nine planned sessions. The first was excellent and the second promises to be as well.

To watch only: Visit youtube.com/@dosocialjustice

 

To comment live during the event: Register at bit.ly/NJRCSession2 (link is case sensitive; copy and paste link into your browser). Commentary is limited to three minutes and should be related to the History of Slavery in New Jersey.

 

To submit longer commentary: You may write, submit audio or video, or another form of commentary to be considered by Committee members at bit.ly/NJRCPublicComment (link is case sensitive; copy and paste link into your browser).

 

If you are not able to attend live, a recording will be made available after the event on the NJISJ youtube channel: youtube.com/@dosocialjustice

REVIEW: The Anglican Church in New Jersey, by Nelson R. Burr (1954).

The Anglican Church in New Jersey. By Nelson R. Burr. Philadelphia: The Church Historical Society, 1954. pp. xvi-768. $10.00 (out of print).[1]

Nelson R. Burr, the celebrated church historian,[2] has written a history of the development of The Anglican Church in New Jersey. Burr’s text is the best known and most widely distributed book dealing with its subject, and while it does faithfully represent many aspects of the colonial correspondence of Anglican priests stationed in New Jersey, in general it does so uncritically. The effect of this authorial approach is that Burr has produced a credulous, often hagiographic, and frequently racist history that privileges the perspective of the privileged at the expense of marginalized peoples. It is a verbose testament to the power of survivor bias in the telling of church history and, while standing on the shelves of Episcopal church libraries throughout the state of New Jersey, it also stands as a warning to modern historiographers.

            Burr’s text does not purport to cover exhaustively the entire history of the Anglican (and later Episcopal) Church in New Jersey, but focuses most closely on the colonial era, prior to the formation of the Episcopal Church (hence the title).[3] In choosing this focus Burr relies overwhelmingly on a particular corpus of documentary evidence, that is, on the records of correspondence between New Jersey priests and the Society for the Propagation of the Gospel (S.P.G.), a voluntary Anglican association founded in 1701 to send priests to the colonies and, by extension, expand the reach and influence of the Church. Copies of this corpus are housed in the Library of Congress in Washington, D. C. and in the Bodleian Library at the University of Oxford, while digital scans of the bulk of the holdings are now available for viewing online.[4] As a reference to the New Jersey-related portion of this catalog of correspondence, and as a starting point for investigating the primary documents themselves, Burr’s book is invaluable. It oscillates between summary paraphrase and fine-grained detail, at times approaching the tenor of an annotated bibliography, both highlighting many of the key themes of the correspondence and providing careful and specific reference to particular letters. However, if one is reading for narratological style, the structure of the text leaves something to be desired. Though the chapters move somewhat chronologically, they are clearly a product of a thematic collation of notes on the primary texts, presented in thematically designated chapters. The unfortunate result is that paraphrases of information drawn from the S.P.G. correspondence appear repeatedly across multiple chapters, almost without awareness of the fact that the author is repeating himself. Thus the book at times resembles a reference text more than a history, and seems structured based on the assumption that the reader will not be digesting the whole text cover-to-cover as printed.

            The more significant problem with Burr’s presentation of his source material is his apparent credulity regarding the institution of the Church as an agent of exclusive good. His narration maintains throughout a cadence of inevitability (and facile solidarity with the figures of the past), suggesting that pious Anglicans did right, others resisted, but that all things fell out essentially for good generally, and for the good of the Church particularly. In this he may be accurately representing the tone of the underlying sources, and the culture of the Church at the time of his writing,[5] but in doing so he reproduces institutional hagiography largely uncritically and rarely deploys a historiographic idiom that diverges in any appreciable way from survivor bias.

The clearest problem this bias creates for The Anglican Church in New Jersey appears in the Church’s treatment of the enslaved, and specifically enslaved Africans and African-Americans. Here Burr cleaves to the tone of his sources, which were written by priests who saw slavery as entirely justifiable within a “great chain of being,” while ignoring the actual data about slavery that the sources contain. Prolific enslavers, like Col. Lewis Morris and Col. Daniel Cox, who helped make draconian slave codes New Jersey law, are described in entirely glowing terms. Burr’s whitewash can perhaps best be seen in a subsection title which unironically asserts that “The Church Cherishes the Negro.” This brief section (pp. 224-228) paints a picture of benevolent concern and solicitude on the part of White Anglican priests. Almost without exception, the priests that he mentions as devoting attention to “the negroes” in this section in fact sought to create, buttress, and benefit from a slave society, while being active enslavers themselves. The letters Burr is working with, as he admits (p. 226), make frequent mention of the enslaved, but he is very selective in his presentation. Included in the New Jersey S.P.G. correspondence are plans for slave-worked plantations governed by priests,[6] reports of how Christianization is useful for suppressing slave revolt,[7] and mathematically challenged insistences that Anglicans are not significant enslavers.[8] But when Burr refers to these aspects of the correspondence, he justifies the enslavers, failing to indicate any appreciation for the crushingly oppressive injustice of the system the Church helped produce. Nor does he articulate precisely how enslavement constituted “cherishing.” 

Burr’s approach to the relation of enslaved Black people to the Church appears to be consistent with his convictions regarding race and the Church in general. In The Anglican Church in New Jersey he indicates his belief not just that the Anglican (and Episcopal) Church is essentially only for White people, but rather that it is only for a narrow subset of White people. This prejudice can be seen in his commentary on the demographic tables in his conclusion (e.g. Table IV, pp. 483-84) ostensibly explaining the obstacles to Episcopal Church growth in New Jersey presented by immigration from “southern and eastern Europe” (p. 468).

Burr’s text, though useful as a compendium of topically organized references to S.P.G. correspondence pertinent to New Jersey, is less a critical historiography, and more a starry-eyed, but deeply flawed hagiography of the Church. While clearly knowledgeable of the Church’s responsibility for slavery and racism from the testimony of the SPG letter archive, Burr manipulates his narrative to keep that knowledge from his readers with a dexterity that approaches prestidigitation.

 

Jolyon G. R. Pruszinski, M.Div., Ph.D.

Lecturer, Department of Religion, Princeton University

Reparations Commission Research Historian, Episcopal Diocese of New Jersey

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[1] Available through Hathi Trust at https://catalog.hathitrust.org/Record/001640884.

[2] For whom the annual Anglican and Episcopal History journal prize for best article is named.

[3] Though it does provide a cursory 69-page summary of the subsequent period through its publishing (1954).

[4] Courtesy of the British Online Archives, Society for the Propagation of the Gospel (S.P.G.) Correspondence Collection: “American in Records from Colonial Missionaries, 1635-1928.” Manuscript copy scans at: https://microform.digital/boa/collections/11/america-in-records-from-colonial-missionaries-1635-1928.

[5] One review from the time it was published (William Warren Sweet, “The Anglican Church in New Jersey. By Nelson R. Burr,” Church History24.2 [1955]: 188-189) actually suggested that Burr has “refused to set the Church with its ministers and people upon a pedestal of perfection, and records the losses, failures and weaknesses as well as their courage and successes.”  The bar was set very low indeed to result in such an estimation. 

[6] T. Haliday to S.P.G. Secretary, 9 October 1717, S.P.G. Correspondence Collection, Book A, Vol. 12, pp. 301-7.

[7] J. Sharpe to S.P.G. Secretary, 23 June 1712, S.P.G. Correspondence Collection, Book A, Vol. 7, pp. 214-17.

[8] J. Holbrooke to S.P.G. Secretary, 17 November 1727, S.P.G. Correspondence Collection, Book A, Vol. 20, pp. 193-98.