A Baptist Bride? An Analysis of “Old Landmarkism”
This paper will show that “Old Landmarkism," or "Baptist Bride" theology, is an extreme variant of Baptist ecclesiology that is historically untenable and far out of line with traditional Baptist ecclesiology. Further, Landmarkism is also far removed from the New Testament practices Landmarkism purports to champion. This paper will briefly examine the historical roots of the Landmark Controversy and its influence on Baptist groups and denominations, particularly in the southern United States. The author will paper will examine the tenets of Landmark ecclesiology—including “Baptist succession” (or “Baptist perpetuity”), the marks of a “true” church, Baptist separation, and the Lord’s Supper. In all cases, this paper will show Landmark views of Baptist separation, succession, and the ordinances of the church—while emerging from valid concerns—are taken to an unbiblical extreme.
A Brief History of the Old Landmark Movement
It is beyond the scope of this paper to trace the complete history of the Landmark movement and its influence in Baptist circles up to today. However, a brief look at the origins of Old Landmarkism will help the reader place the movement in proper context. Despite claims on the part of Old Landmarkism that theirs is a movement that simply restores Baptists to their New Testament roots, the Landmark movement has its origins squarely in the life of the Southern Baptist Convention in the 1850s.
James Robinson Graves, the very influential editor of the Tennessee Baptist was, unquestionably, the father of Landmarkism. Graves found kindred spirits in two other noted Baptist preachers, Amos Cooper Dayton and James Madison Pendleton. Together, these three would come to be known as the “Great Triumvirate.” These three made Landmarkism a dominating force in early Southern Baptist life. According to Moritz, Graves was deeply concerned by Baptist relations with other denominations. Graves further felt the Baptist testimony had been damaged in the Campbellite controversy, and was troubled by the emerging and vibrant Methodist denomination in the South.
Landmarkers drew their name from two key biblical passages. The first is Proverbs 22:28, which warns, “Remove not the ancient landmark, which thy fathers have set.” As Waltke notes, this passage deals with ancestral property boundaries, staked out by sacred lot under the leadership of Joshua. The second passage cited by Landmarkers in naming their movement was Job 24:2, which similarly warns about those who move landmarks, in this case to seize the flocks of others. Says Hartley, these landmarks—stones marking land boundaries and inscribed with the specifications of the property “were considered a sacred trust.” Tampering with “landmarks” carried with it the threat of divine curse. While the caution against moving the “Old Landmarks” continues to sound solemn and profound—even when this author hears it from Landmarkers today—it clearly has nothing to do with ecclesiology in any sense. As this paper will show, this is hardly the last instance of Landmark tenets being justified by hermeneutical contortion.
Graves and his intellectual progeny strongly affirmed such Baptist distinctives as the autonomy of the local church, regenerate church membership, the memorial nature of the Lord’s Supper, and the practice of only believer’s Baptism by immersion in water. Graves, among others, was concerned that Baptist churches and associations would allow ministers outside of the Baptist tradition—specifically, paedobaptist ministers—to preach from Baptist pulpits. The Landmark movement that Graves spawned is best understood as an overreaction to these perceived ecumenical threats to these marks of Baptist identity. Starting from the distinctive convictions of all Baptists, Graves further introduced the idea of “Baptist perpetuity,” rejected the notion of an “invisible, universal church,” and asserted—without convincing biblical or historical evidence—that the only “true” churches were Baptist churches.
To be fair, neither Graves nor any other Landmarker ever asserted that those of other denominations who professed faith in Jesus Christ were not Christians or that they were unsaved. Rather, because their churches could not guarantee regenerate church membership—lacking as they did the marks of the “true church”—denominations outside of the Baptist movement were simply religious societies and not churches themselves,
As McBeth notes, early Baptists never viewed ministerial or baptismal succession, “However, the idea of some continuity of biblical truths, or even a succession of believers, is not entirely absent as one can see from the Second London Confession of 1689.” Graves agreed and took this continuity a step forward, introducing the idea of “Baptist perpetuity.” In other words, that Baptists could trace their roots back to Christ himself. It should be noted that Landmarkers typically do not see the Church as beginning at Pentecost, as depicted in Acts 2, but rather, believe that the Church traces its beginning to Jesus’ earthly ministry, starting with His baptism by John the Baptist. Graves postulated that it was possible that the church was called a “Baptist” church because that’s what was referred to in labelling Jesus’ cousin John as “the Baptist.”
For the most part, Graves and other Landmarkers have argued that the name “Baptist” was not a necessary qualification for a church to be a forbearer of a modern Baptist church. Presumably then, a modern local church that bears all the marks of a “true” church need not have the word “Baptist” on the sign to be a Baptist church. Undoubtedly, in practice it does not work this way, and every church in the Landmark movement certainly used the word “Baptist” in its name, and Landmarker preachers would have insisted it be so.
Further, Graves thoroughly rejected the concept of “apostolic succession,” at least as seen in the Roman Catholic Church and other churches claiming their leaders were successors to the apostles. Along with other Baptists, Graves and other Landmarkers affirmed the cessation of the Apostolic office with the death of the Apostles. Rather, all “true” churches bore the same marks, namely, the Baptist distinctives. Thus, only baptisms, ministerial ordinations, and church planting carried out under the authority of a “true” church were valid.
In the Landmark view, Christ certainly had the proper authority to start a church, and in turn, so did the apostles, and in turn, their disciples who received proper baptism and commissioning from the local churches the apostles founded. Despite the protestations to the contrary of Graves and other Landmark Baptists, Landmarkism does, in fact, appear to teach nothing less than a form of apostolic succession with a Baptist flavor. In essence, Graves and the Landmarkers rebranded apostolic succession as “Baptist perpetuity.”
Graves claimed that modern Baptists could trace their forbearers through such dissenting movements as the Anabaptists, Waldenses, Albigenses, Novatians, Donatists, and all the way back to the churches the apostles themselves founded. Certainly, many Baptists might identify some of these as spiritual ancestors of the modern Baptist movement. Further, any true student of church history would agree that Christianity has never been monolithic, even when Rome demanded it, and there have always been “dissenting” churches. Graves and all the notable Landmark Baptist authors who followed him seem to have applied victimization by persecution, rather than orthodoxy, as the sole test for a Baptist progenitor. If the Pope hated a group, the Landmarkers seem automatically to have adored them and found in them among the spiritual ancestors of all Baptists. Further, most Landmarkers are decidedly Calvinistic in their teachings, and most of these groups—most Anabaptists, for certain—would reject that label (and Anabaptists of old surely did not appreciate the persecution at the hands of either the Roman Catholic Church or John Calvin’s disciples!).
Graves himself never attempted to precisely trace the Baptist lineage all the way to Christ. He merely asserted that this lineage, in fact, existed. Other notable Landmarkers since Graves have attempted to trace a much more precise lineage back to Christ himself. Roy Mason, and influential twentieth century Landmarker, for instance, put forth fourteen purported links from a modern Baptist Church in Tennessee, through other churches in America, Europe, and Africa, and back to Tertullian, Polycarp, the Apostle John, and Jesus Christ. The eager Landmarker might read Mason’s links with glee, neglecting to read Mason’s disclaimer that he neither knew who had done this research, nor was he able to personally verify the claims being made. Elsewhere, Mason refers to this Tennessee church’s “pedigree” without such qualification. Given Mason’s influence on the radio and his pastorate of a relatively large church in Tampa, Florida, it seems irresponsible that he would have even published the links. Mason surely thought these links credible, despite the paucity of evidence, and clearly he intended to wield his considerable influence to convince others to come to the same conclusion.
Carroll, an early twentieth-century Landmarker, developed a very elaborate timeline of Baptist perpetuity—a timeline he calls, “The Trail of Blood,” for the persecution of dissenting groups he sees as the ancestors of Baptists. Sadly, this, too, is largely an exposé of any group that the Roman Catholic Church (or, sadly, the Reformers) ever persecuted, and not a true history of the Baptist theological lineage. A careful examination of Carroll’s chart and the underlying explanations he provides show a work that is largely anachronistic and historically untenable.
The Local Church in Landmarkism
As Patterson notes, one of the key convictions of Graves, and other Landmarkers that followed him “was that the New Testament restricted the ekklesia to visible, local, and absolutely independent congregations of believers.” Certainly, Baptists have long asserted the ultimate autonomy and authority of the local church. However, Landmarkism takes this to an unbiblical extreme. Not only are non-Baptist baptisms “alien immersions,” and non-Baptist ministerial ordinations invalid, but there are deep eschatological implications inherent in the Landmark view of the church. Most Landmarkers erroneously see the local Baptist church as the “kingdom of God” already on present on earth. In the view of Landmarkism, those believers outside of the local Baptist church are, essentially, outside of the Kingdom.
Integral to the Landmark view of Baptist church autonomy is an utter rejection of the notion of a universal church. Christians outside of the local Baptist church may well be saved, but the local Baptist church, in the Landmark view, is the true church and the bride of Christ (thus, adherents of Landmarkism are often called “Baptist briders”). Of course, this notion leaves the reader wondering: If the Landmark view is correct, and if there is no universal church, but only the local Baptist church, would there not be several brides present at the marriage supper of the Lamb? And would not that make Christ a polygamist of sorts?
Certainly, Landmarkers would deny that idea, but their literature never preempts the question, nor acknowledges that, to some extent, there must be a universal church...or else Christ is necessarily (if one takes Landmarkism to its logical conclusion) the husband of several wives. Further, if the Landmark view says non-Baptists Christians are not the bride of Christ, what is their involvement in the marriage supper of the Lamb? For his part, without credible biblical support, Mason taught that non-Baptist Christians would indeed be present at the marriage supper, but simply as guests. This seems incredible for a preacher who claims strict adherence to an essentially literal biblical hermeneutic, as a plain reading of Revelation 19 teaches nothing of the sort.
Though Landmarkism spread into the independent Baptist movement, and still has a few adherents there today, most prominent Landmarkers never rejected the idea (at least in principle) of associations or denominations, at least not in the Baptist practice of free association that respects the primacy of the autonomous local church. Graves, along with many other Landmarkers, was a Southern Baptist, and Landmark influence extended to other associations and denominations. In fact, by the 1880s, Landmarkism held preeminence in the western half of the Southern Baptist Convention.
As for non-Baptist denominations, of course, the Landmarkers not only disagreed (along with other Baptists) with their polity, but believed these were not churches at all. Landmarkers abhorred anything that smacked of ecumenicalism in any form, even the discussion of Christian ideas and issues with non-Baptists. In part, Graves birthed the Landmark movement in reaction to the acceptance of non-Baptists preaching at ecumenical revivals or even in Baptist pulpits. To Graves, to allow a visiting, non-Baptist preacher to participate in Baptist services was to allow a member of a human society, and not a truly ordained Gospel minister, to preach from the pulpit.
The Church Ordinances
With all other Baptists, the Landmark movement recognizes the two ordinances of the church: baptism and the Lord’s Supper. Further, like all other Baptists, Landmarkers see the ordinances as symbolic and memorial, and not as a sacramental means of conveying grace or bringing about regeneration. With all other Baptists, Landmarkers utterly reject infant baptism (or “paedobaptism”), insisting instead that believers are the only proper subjects of baptism and that, baptism be done by complete immersion in water. It is at this point that Landmarkers begin to diverge from the bulk of Baptist thought. Certainly, most Baptists would agree that regardless of any ceremonies a person may have been a part of as an infant, true baptism is the free choice of a believer.
But the Landmarkist view of valid baptisms is extreme. In the view of Landmarkism, anyone baptized in a church that does not meet all the marks of a true church is the subject of a valid baptism. If, for instance, a believer is baptized by immersion, with the trinitarian formula, but where the church in which he is baptized has not been duly founded under the authority of another “true” church, that baptism is invalid by Landmark standards. Most Landmarkers, even today, would insist on a member presenting a transfer letter from a “true” church before allowing that person onto the membership rolls without rebaptism. Essentially, Landmarkers are free to subjectively invalidate any baptism that they see fit not to recognize.
Most Landmarkers also hold to highly extreme views of the Lord’s Supper. Certainly, Graves rejected transubstantiation, consubstantiation, and any “mystical” views of the Supper, seeing it (along with other Baptists) as purely memorial. So, Landmarkism is not unusual among Baptists in this respect. Landmarkers also advocate for “closed communion”—certainly not a strange practice among Baptists during the time in which Landmarkism came to prominence. However, Landmarkism takes closed communion to an extreme. Most Baptists would take “closed communion” to mean that only scripturally baptized believers should partake in the Lord’s Supper. Landmarkism takes closed communion a step further, allowing only scripturally baptized believers who are members of the local church in which they partake of the Lord’s Supper to participate in communion. Given the exaggerated sense of supremacy with which Landmarkism imbues the local church, this is perhaps unsurprising. Nevertheless, it is a practice without strong biblical support.
If Grave advocated extreme restrictions on the validity and right to participate in church ordinances, the prescriptions he applied to their practice were no less extreme—and no more scripturally based. As Graves stated, “No church may dare to celebrate the ordinances unless she possesses the faith and the facts symbolized.” He explains what he means as he dictates a very precise practice of the Lord’s Supper. As do many Christians, Graves is convinced that Jesus’ Last Supper was a Paschal Feast. The Lord’s Supper, according to Graves, must use unleavened bread, and must be from one wheat loaf. Graves cites the first Passover in Exodus and argues that leaven is a type of the power of sin and Satan. Graves refers to Paul’s admonition to cleanse out the old leaven in the church body (1 Cor 5:6-8) as a mandate for the use of unleavened bread in the Lord’s Supper, rather than the admonition for purity of heart that it truly is. If the Last Supper was, indeed, a Paschal Feast as many believe—and the New Testament is not unequivocal on the facts of this matter—then the church would arguably be justified in following the prescriptions of Exodus 12 for using unleavened bread in the Passover. However, in their insistence on unleavened bread, however justifiable, most Landmarker authors seem to forget the spirit behind Paul’s admonition in 1 Cor 5:6-8, legalistically and rigidly insisting on a ritually perfect observance.
Of course, it is well known that Exodus 12 never addressed the use of wine for Passover. Indeed, the use of wine in the Passover Seder seems to have come about some time around or after the Babylonian Exile. Graves clearly knows this, and cannot cit Exodus 12 as the biblical support for his insistence on fermented wine. Instead, he cites the Old Testament drink offering in attempt to justify his views. The New Testament simply refers to the cup at the Last Supper as the “fruit of the vine.” The fruit of the vine is universally understood to have come from the grape, and Graves did not see how the fruit of the vine could be in the form of anything other than fermented wine. Graves insisted on using fermented wine for communion, and not merely because he felt it was reasonable to assume the Lord used wine in observing the Last Supper. Graves developed an entire theology of communion wine that is as detailed and bizarre as it is biblically unproveable:
(U)ntil fermentation ensues…unfermented juice of the grape is but a mass of leaven. It is this element in the juice that causes it to ferment, and fermentation is the process by which it throws off, and clears itself, of this impurity. Thoroughly fermented wine contains no leaven, and, therefore, it is only after this natural clarification of itself that the Savior used, and commanded His churches to use it; and, limiting this element to wine, He forbade the use of any other liquid than the pure juice of the grape, when fermented and clarified.
Graves offers no biblical defense of this theory, nor does he attempt to justify with Scripture his views on the communion cup. Today’s small plastic communion cups would have no place in Landmarkism, at least not as Graves saw it. He believed that, “one cup only should be used, to preserve the symbolism,” although he did allow that a large church might first place the wine in a large vessel on the Lord’s table before distributing it to smaller cups. Graves’s views on the Lord’s Supper are nothing short of unscriptural and extremely legalistic. What’s more, if Graves has rightly interpreted leaven in bread as symbolic of the spread of sin—something that should be purged from the church body—his treatment of the fermentation seems utterly bizarre, given that it is yeast undergoing the same biological process in grape juice as it does when it serves as leavening in bread.
Other Landmarkers, in defending the use of only fermented wine in the observance of the Lord’s Supper because the Lord must have used it in the Last Supper. The gospels, of course, are silent as to the exact nature of the cup’s contents, Jesus being clear that it is “the fruit of the vine.” The Old Testament gives no guidance (again, there was no wine mentioned in the Exodus, and it doesn’t appear to have been added to the Passover observance until after the Babylonian exile, by which time the Old Testament was complete). Still other Landmarkers insist that since people were drunk at the Lord’s Supper in 1 Cor 11, and Paul took issue with the drunkenness, but not the wine itself, that this is a clear sign wine was used in the Lord’s Supper.
Truth be told, the problem Paul addresses seems to be more the fact that people are bringing their whole meal to church and not sharing with Christian brothers and sisters lacking food. “When ye come together therefore into one place, this is not to eat the Lord's supper.” (1 Cor 11:20). Paul, in 1 Cor 11:21 addresses some going away hungry, and others being drunk. He tells them in verse 22 that they ought to eat their meals at home, rather than despise the church and shame those who are without. Paul’s account, the Gospels, and the Didache (an anonymous, late first century Christian document) all seem to show that the Lord’s Supper participants enjoyed a communal meal before actually making the memorial observance with the bread and the fruit of the vine. Even this meal should have been governed by the same sense of reverence that Paul commands for the observance over the bread and the fruit of the vine. The argument for using only fermented wine, implied from the drunkenness of the Corinthians, is not only weak, but misses Paul’s point entirely.
Landmarkers declare that the use of fermented wine is implied in the Scriptures because there could have been nothing else, that somehow, the fermentation process was unstoppable, so the Lord must have used it in observing the Last Supper. Actually, the King James Version (and most other English translations) uses the same word, “wine,” for fermented or unfermented grape juice, while the Greek differentiates between yayin or oinos. Early church documents by the second century A.D. are clear that both were used. If fresh grapes were available, the early church actually pressed them directly into the cup. Another process used, was to boil down grape juice to a syrupy concentrate (called vinum or “sweet wine”), which did not ferment. Water was added before consumption. Athanasius, in the second century, is clear this was used in the Lord’s Supper in his day. What’s more, first century Mediterranean and Palestinian vineyard owners were also entirely familiar with the process of sulfur fumigation in preserving unfermented grape juice. Not only is the Landmarker insistence on the use of only fermented wine in observing the Lord’s Supper an argument from biblical silence, but it is historically unsupported, as well.
Baptists have historically championed the biblical idea of separation or, in other words, the idea that a Christian is called to live a holy life in this world (John 15:19, 17:14-16). Landmarkism takes that idea to an unbiblical extreme. Graves, and Landmarker leaders that followed him, eschewed any relationship, whatsoever, with non-Baptists. To be sure, Graves emphatically stated that he had no doubts about the salvation or sincerity of belief on the part of others who professed faith in Christ. Further, he claimed his readiness to fight for the right of any human being to practice whatever religious faith his or her conscience dictated.
However, Graves was never actually called to forcefully defend the religious rights of others, so his willingness to do so will remain forever untested. What can be proven is that Graves personally, and Landmarkism in general, caused an unhealthy isolation of Baptists that still exists in some Baptist circles, especially among independent fundamental Baptists and some Southern Baptists. Any attempt to work together with the greater Christian community is often met with protestations of, “Liberal compromise!” The fundamental tenet of Landmarkism is that everything any church outside of the Baptist movement does is illegitimate. In the Landmarker view, Christians outside of Baptist circles are apparently nothing more than bastard children of God. What’s more, such isolationism nearly destroyed the SBC’s Foreign Missions Board just as it was beginning.
Assessment of the Landmark Movement
Landmarkism represents an unnecessarily dogmatic and unbiblically extreme ecclesiology. It attempts to be definitive where the Bible is usually silent or, at best, ambiguous. Its greatest appeal, despite the weakness of its argument is that it claims to provide certainty—no matter how uncertain some matters of ecclesiology really are. In Landmarkism, Baptists could have the “confidence that they, out of the ever-growing number of denominations, were doctrinally correct and always had been.” In this sense, it is not difficult to understand why many observers see echoes of Landmarkism in the rise of fundamentalism (though most fundamentalists in Baptist ranks would reject most of the uniquely Landmarker doctrines). Indeed, Landmarkers, like the fundamentalists who followed, have long seemed perfectly content to sacrifice truth on the altar of certainty.
As Moritz puts it, “Landmarkism subtly combines true marks of a New Testament church with the faulty assumption that the churches and the kingdom of God are synonymous terms. Thus, it builds on a faulty biblical and theological base.” As Patterson contends, “Graves's ecclesiology cannot be fully understood apart from the radical individualism that undergirded it.” Such individualism would certainly seem to account, in part, for Graves’s extremely inflated and rather warped view of local church autonomy.
Landmarkism gives its followers the smug and unscriptural idea that they, as Baptists, belong not only to a true church, but the one true church. Sadly, this sounds much more like a cult than a New Testament church. Rather than standing for true biblical doctrine and a scripturally correct ecclesiology, the Landmark movement created an exaggerated emphasis on local church autonomy and promoted suspicion of other denominations and even between Baptist groups. The Landmark movement has even promoted disunity in Baptist circles. Indeed, most Landmarkers seem quite suspicious of Baptist churches outside of their own ranks. However, as most every Landmarker church has shuttered its doors, those who remain who hold to Landmarker beliefs must find an uneasy home in other Baptist churches. Anecdotally, here in Florida (Landmarkism has almost no influence outside of the Southeastern United States) this author has for years witnessed that disunity at every Lord’s Supper, when those older saints who grew up as Landmarkers refuse to show up because grape juice is used as an element in the Supper.
Ultimately, Landmarkism smugly promoted the idea that Baptist churches are the true church and the only one with authority on earth—especially authority over the Lord’s Supper. Scripture simply does not require that New Testament churches must prove (or even claim) an unbroken succession from Christ. Rather than reinforce a sound ecclesiology, Landmarkism did little more than to reinvent the Roman Catholic ecclesiology without the trappings of the papacy.
While this author sees little positive to take from Landmarkism, McBeth sees Landmarkism as helping to build both identity and loyalty among Baptists. Perhaps. The Landmark movement gave Baptists doctrinal reasons, however weak or poorly argued, to be Baptists. Likewise, while Patterson sees much in Landmarkism with which to disagree, he finds value in Graves’s attempts to define precisely what it means to be a Baptist. Graves sought to define those denominational boundaries in a way that was informed by the past. Of course, that Baptist past was not nearly as doctrinally or philosophically monolithic as Graves claimed. As Patterson notes, today is something of a “post-denominational age,” and the Landmark movement, and the attendant controversy surrounding it, may serve as a model for future explorations of Baptist denominational identity for a world that has largely forgotten it.
Landmarkism is an erroneous and extreme, but dying, form of Baptist ecclesiology. It is difficult to assess precisely what lasting impact Landmarkism, and its extreme view of nearly every Baptist distinctive, has had on Baptist ecclesiology. It seems likely that, in less than a generation, Landmarkism will completely die with the few adherents it has left. Landmarkism was harmful to the Baptist witness and truly offensive to believing Christians outside of the Baptist tradition. Baptists should gladly defend their distinctives from the Bible, but to disallow others as even being part of the Church of Jesus Christ is uncharitable at best, exegetically untenable at least, and heretical at worst.
What’s more, Landmarkism does raise the foundational question: What does it mean to be a Baptist? That is an important question that ought to be answered in every generation. Therefore, it seems wise that Baptist seminaries and Bible colleges, particularly in the southern United States, should thoroughly familiarize students with the basic tenets and fundamental flaws of Landmarkism.
 Anthony L. Chute, Nathan A. Finn, and Michael A. G. Haykin, The Baptist Story: From English Sect to Global Movement (Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing Group), 169.
 Fred Moritz, The Landmark Controversy: A Study in Baptist History and Polity (Watertown, WI: Maranatha Baptist Press, n.d.), loc. 120, Kindle.
 Unless otherwise noted, all biblical passages referenced are in the King James Version.
 Bruce K. Waltke, Proverbs Chapters 15-13, New International Commentary on the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1976), 234, WORDsearch.
 John E. Hartley, The Book of Job, New International Commentary on the Old Testament (Grand Rapids, MI: Wm. B. Eerdmans Publishing Co., 1976), 345, WORDsearch.
 H. Leon McBeth, The Baptist Heritage (Nashville, TN: B&H Publishing, 1987), 61.
 James R. Graves, Old Landmarkism: What is It? (Texarkana, TX: Baptist Sunday School Committee, 1928), loc. 63, Kindle.
 Ibid., loc. 1701.
 Ibid., loc. 380.
 James M. Carroll, The Trail of Blood (Emmaus, PA: Challenge Press, 1931), loc. 92, Kindle.
 Moritz, loc. 333.
 Graves, loc. 1752.
 Chute, Finn, and Haykin, 170.
 Carroll, loc. 85.
 Roy Mason, The Church that Jesus Built (Oak Harbor, WA: Bible-Baptist Church Publications, 1977), 110.
 Roy Mason, The Myth of the Universal, Invisible Church Theory Exploded (Little Rock, AR: Challenge Press, 2002), loc. 872, Kindle.
 Carroll, loc. 293.
 James A. Patterson, James Robinson Graves: Staking the Boundaries of Baptist Identity (Nashville, TN: B&H Academic, 2012), loc. 1631.
 Graves, loc. 612.
 Mason, Myth of the Universal, loc. 1024.
 Moritz, loc. 350.
 Thomas S. Kidd, and Barry Hankins, Baptists In America: A History (New York, NY: Oxford University Press, 2015), 168.
 McBeth, 450.
 Graves, loc. 1335.
 Graves, loc. 1354-60.
 Ibid., loc. 1364.
 Samuele Bacchoichi, Wine in the Bible: A Biblical Study on the Use of Alcoholic Beverages
 Chute, Finn, and Haykin, 173.
 Ibid., 171.
 Patterson, loc. 3409.
 Moritz, loc. 300-2.
 Patterson, loc. 1594-6.
 McBeth, 460.
 Ibid., 461
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