Review: In the Name of God

In the Name of God: The Colliding Lives, Legends, and Legacies of J. Frank Norris and George W. Truett
O. S. Hawkins, B & H Academic, Nashville, 2021

O. S. Hawkins gives us a work of much interest to fundamentalist Baptists, In the Name of God: The Colliding Lives, Legends, and Legacies of J. Frank Norris and George W. Truett. Hawkins is well-qualified to write this book, having served as a successor to Truett at First Baptist Church in Dallas for several years, with his own father coming to faith in Christ at the altar of First Baptist of Fort Worth, counseled by none other than Frank Norris himself. Hawkins’ uncle served as a deacon in Norris’ church for more than forty years. Clearly, Hawkins knows his subject from a close personal vantage point.

His book is not long, but his research is thorough. The bibliography fills 24 pages at the back of the book. Every page of manuscript contains footnotes documenting Hawkins’ sources.1 I read the book in both hardcopy (kindly provided free of charge by B&H Academic for this review) and in Logos, where the footnotes are more accessible (I paid for this version!).

J. Frank Norris is a name always mentioned in any history of fundamentalism. His flamboyant personality, dramatic life, controversial behaviour, and enduring influence garners praise and disgust from outside observers. For some, he is emblematic of everything that is wrong about fundamentalism.

George Truett, on the other hand, has an enduring reputation (among Southern Baptists especially) of sophistication and stability, a long-time influence in the Southern Baptist denomination. Southern Baptists preserve his name in “hospitals, public schools, seminaries, libraries, and hundreds of individuals.” (16) Those who sneer at fundamentalism might see in Truett a cross-town rival to Norris who is emblematic of a Christian gentleman.

The book begins with a comparison of the two cities, two churches, and two pastors. Dallas and Fort Worth, different in their founding, produced two different (and rival) churches: First Baptist Church of Dallas and First Baptist Church of Fort Worth. The rivalry was also personality driven, between the two largely contemporary and long-term pastors, Truett and Norris. Truett came to Dallas in 1897, serving forty-seven years, ending in his death in 1944. Norris came to Fort Worth in 1909, serving forty-three years, ending in his death in 1952. The rivalry possibly began in Norris’ four years prior to FBC Fort Worth as pastor of McKinney Avenue Baptist in Dallas from 1905-1909. McKinney Avenue under Norris started with a congregation of thirteen, growing to a crowd of one thousand on the first anniversary of Norris’ pastorate. (26) Some of this growth came at the expense of FBC Dallas, as Norris was quite willing to take people from Truett’s ministry into his own. (88-89) Nevertheless, both men were gifted preachers, both ministering to thousands in their time, both building churches of many thousands in membership in the 1920s and beyond.

Hawkins continues with two chapters devoted to a brief biography of each pastor. Norris comes across as brash and bullheaded as his reputation would lead you to believe, though Hawkins carefully points out Norris’ tender side and pastoral interest in his people. He cites Homer Ritchie, Norris’ friend and successor, who summed Norris up this way:

He was a classic case of a schizophrenic. He could be the kindest, most loving person, but if you ever crossed him or embarrassed him, he could be as mean as the devil himself. I saw the good side of him so many times. He would take his last dime out of his pocket and give it away. He cared for widows. I never knew him to be anything but full of integrity with theological, moral or financial matters. (52)2

Truett, on the other hand, comes across as a more attractive personality. Hawkins begins his description of his life this way. “George W. Truett, the polar opposite of J. Frank Norris in almost every sense, served as pastor of the First Baptist Church of Dallas from 1897 to 1944. Truett lived a life of character and integrity, and his ministry stood above his peers. Tall and stately in frame, he kept himself above the fray of disputes of all kinds. His life was consistently characterized by dignity, integrity, and all those other virtues for which good men strive.” (57) In the pages that follow, there is much to commend. I will leave it to the reader to evaluate, but though Truett presented a much better public image than Norris, there was something in the overall presentation that showed flaws generally hidden from public view. Norris’ flaws were public and on prominent display, Truett’s flaws were hidden, but remained nonetheless. Hawkins hints at them in the biographical chapter, but they become more evident in the next chapter.3

After the two biographical chapters, the next chapter details the conflicts between Norris and Truett. Part of the conflict came due to a difference of ecclesiology. Norris believed in strong pastoral leadership, while Truett sought a less confrontational, “less authoritative” approach. (86) Truett nonetheless exercised strong leadership, but his approach differed from that of Norris. “Norris’s constant and often hostile crusades against the SBC establishment, specifically against Baylor University and Southwestern Seminary, led the Tarrant Baptist Association, as well as the Baptist General Convention of Texas (BGCT), to ostracize him.” (86) Norris believed Truett was a moving force behind this ostracism, and Hawkins shows that Norris was often correct. “Truett’s modus operandi was to remain under the public radar and encourage others to do his bidding.” (87) The first conflict Hawkins mentions was the initial conflict already mentioned, where Norris “poached” (my term) members from Truett’s church. Others involved Norris’ role as owner and publisher of the Baptist newspaper in Texas, the Baptist Standard; the desire of B. H. Carroll (teacher and mentor of both men), to move his seminary from Baylor to Fort Worth, operating independent from Baylor (this move, supported by Norris and opposed by Truett, became Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary); the Baylor evolution controversy, where Norris exposed the encroachment of evolutionary views at Baylor; the 75 Million Campaign, a fund raising effort led by Truett but opposed by Norris; and, ultimately, what Hawkins calls “The Radio Hate Fest.”

Norris was motivated, Hawkins says, by doctrine before denomination, while to Truett denominational loyalty was everything. There are important details to consider, but I want to highlight the last controversy as emblematic of the deep breach that developed between the two men. I’ll quote Hawkins extensively here.

After the embarrassment brought about by J. Frank Norris during the Baylor evolution controversy coupled with the failure of the 75 Million Campaign, the Texas Baptist establishment conceived a plan whereby they would silence Norris once and for all by exposing him to the entire Baptist world via radio. Truett gathered the five most prominent leaders in the state: L. R. Scarborough, president of Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary; S. P. Brooks, president of Baylor University; F. S. Groner, executive director of the Baptist General Convention of Texas; J. R. Ward, president of Decatur Baptist College; and J. B. Tidwell, dean of the School of Theology at Baylor University. They moved to acquire one-hour time slots for five nights over eight days on the large fifty-thousand-watt radio station KTAT in Fort Worth. (102)

Norris made recordings of each broadcast for his own protection.

The battle was engaged on November 28, 1927. The first night featured Scarborough, the next night featured Brooks, then in successive nights Groner, Tidwell, and Ward. The final night was left for Ward’s scathing attack, which he concluded by saying, “I expect to look over the parapets of Heaven and see Frank Norris frying in the bottomless pits of Hell [sic].”

Once again, conspicuously absent from the radio microphone during the entire ordeal was George W. Truett. His refusal to join his own coalition on the air is but another example of his using and encouraging others to be out front, executing his plans while seeking to keep himself “serenely above the fray.” Norris never had a doubt about who was orchestrating this radio attack from behind the scenes. (102-103)

Shocking as this sounds, the reader must remember the times. The year is 1927. In the North, the Fundamentalist-Modernist controversy was in full swing. The men of that era dealt with matters far differently than we would today.

The first night of the radio attacks began with Scarborough delivering a biting, caustic, one-hour diatribe on Norris. He told “the world all the mean things he ever heard, thought or felt about Dr. Norris, and that everybody else ever felt, thought, published, circulated, whispered publicly or privately, and there was no prayer, no scripture, no song.” He described him as “malicious, diabolical, [a] falsifier, perjurer, liar, thief, scoundrel, reprobate, despicable, damnable, devilish, infamous, murderer, criminal, dastardly, heinous, wicked, corrupt, and hellish.” Scarborough spent the entire hour calling Norris every name he could conjure up and accusing him of everything anyone ever imagined that he did. The presentation was brutal and bombastic.

The denominational loyalists then got the surprise of their lives. Without their knowing it, Norris had acquired the hour immediately following them on each of the nights. On the initial night and immediately after one solid excruciating hour of Scarborough’s vicious attacks, Norris signed on the radio with a young girl’s quartet singing softly, in perfect harmony, “For you I am praying, For you I am praying.” Then, several new converts came to the microphone and gave moving and stirring testimonies of how their lives had been radically transformed through the ministries of the First Baptist Church in Fort Worth. Norris then came on the air with these words, speaking about the Truett-Scarborough coalition:

These are good men but they are mad. I feel sorry for them and I want you to forgive them. I have been mad myself and I know how bad it makes one feel. They were excited and heated up, and their strong language did not represent their better spirit. You are not interested in what they think of me, or what I think of them, but I want to take this occasion to call this great listening audience to repentance, and after the world is on fire and the heavens have passed away with a great noise out in the eternity of eternities, you will have no concern about a denominational row between one insignificant preacher and a group of denominational leaders.

Norris then proceeded to preach a gospel sermon in the remaining minutes of radio airtime. For the remainder of the Radio Hate Fest, he responded each night in a similar manner. (103-104)

Interestingly, the first Sunday after the Hate Fest, Norris’ church, FBC Fort Worth, received 142 new members, many of whom in response to listening to the competing broadcasts.

There is much more to the story, but space constrains me here. You need to read the book!

The book concludes with an evaluation of Norris’ contribution to Baptist life, including his influence on the Sunday School, both in his own ministry and the Southern Baptist denomination at large. Hawkins credits his efforts contributing as well to the Cooperative Program, the Baptist Faith and Message, the Conservative Resurgence, Eschatology among Southern Baptists, and the style of preaching most prevalent today.

The book is well written and presents the two protagonists in an objective light. It is no hagiography on either side. Hawkins honestly evaluates the strengths and faults of both men.

The book provides remarkable insight for fundamental Baptists. Norris is a problematic figure for us, but the negative legend is well-tempered by this portrait. There is much to commend his stance. Hawkins seems to be a Conservative Resurgence man. The lessons he draws from Norris’ life are non-separatistic. As a fundamentalist, the lessons I draw are quite different. On the point of separation, I side with Norris.

Finally, I want to urge everyone to get this book and read it. It is extremely well done and well worth reading. It fills in some details that most histories of fundamentalism don’t have space to relate. It highlights starkly the difference between fundamentalism and denominationalism. The author comes to conclusions different from ours, but he provides information I’ve never seen anywhere else that justifies, in my opinion, the independent fundamentalist stance.


Don Johnson is the pastor of Grace Baptist Church of Victoria, Victoria, BC, Canada.


In the Name of God available here. The FBFI earns a small commission from books purchased through this link.

  1. I must note that the printed book does commit the sin of endnotes, but, alas, that is all the rage these days. []
  2. I should note that Hawkins details of the famous (infamous?) incident of the shooting of Dexter Chipps in pages 35-40. The jury ruled in Norris’ favor on the grounds of self-defense, Hawkins presents the relevant facts seemingly objectively, and given what Hawkins writes, I have to agree with the jury. []
  3. Here I should note that there is a very grievous factual error in the Truett biography. Truett responded to a request from President Woodrow Wilson to serve among the Armed Forces during the World War. Hawkins doesn’t say, but the role seems to be as a chaplain during the conflict. Hawkins says the call from Wilson came in 1918, then he says, “On July 31, 1919, Truett sailed from New York to England, eventually headed for the battlefields of Europe.” (68) The discussion of his activity “in the trenches” carries on, implying this all occurred in 1919. This cannot be correct, the war ended Nov 11, 1918. Something is clearly off here, hopefully if the book is reprinted, the publisher will correct the error. []