Visiting the Boneyard

Exploring Cave Hill Cemetery and Encountering the Past

Voluntarily going to a cemetery might seem strange or morbid. I admit that. As strange as it might sound, I enjoy going to cemeteries and bring others along with me! Several times during the year, I lead tour groups from the seminary to explore a handful of cemetery plots at Cave Hill Cemetery in Louisville. These tours are geared to trace out the history of SBTS and to walk through the seminary’s past. The reason that I do this is because a cemetery forces all of us to recognize the past as well as to face the certainty of our own mortality. In walking through the seminary’s history, I aim to show how the lessons from the past can equip us in being faithful in the present.

Cave Hill possesses the entire story of SBTS. In a way that not even the physical campus can itself, the various plots tell the narrative from the founding under Boyce to the present era. As I begin with the founders of the seminary, I seek to follow a course that neither vilifies nor canonizes them. When discussing Boyce, Broadus, Williams, and Manly, I am transparent about the issue of slavery, the Confederacy, the American Civil War, and the issues that followed it. Faithful historians are honest about the complexities of even those we consider heroes. The vision of those four men is why I chose to study at SBTS. It is why I am thankful to serve at the institution and continue my studies. This does not mean though that I gloss over the fact that they were men with many shortcomings and flaws in the antebellum period. When I discuss this though, I always advise that we exercise charity in our judgments. In one hundred years from now, many can look at my life and wonder how I could have been so blind to various matters. Since I would want some mercy and charity from those judging me, I believe we ought to do the same when we examine men and women from the past.

Another aspect of my Cave Hill tours is that I spend significant time on men that are often deemed “less” attractive to my Reformed Baptist brethren. The names of Mullins, Sampey, Carver, and even Robertson are not always individuals which stir the affections of my friends. Those men though were critical pieces in the story of SBTS. Each of them made positive contributions as well as acted in ways that can make me scratch my head. Finally, I spend time with the moderate and liberal faculty buried at Cave Hill. I confess this is the hardest part for me in that there are some interred in the ground that I doubt knew the gospel. A bitterness exists still among many from that era regarding Dr. Mohler and the changes that took place in making the seminary more confessional and conservative. Despite their acrimony, I seek to empathize with these individuals who “lost” their school. If SBTS became a liberal institution in forty years, some of those feelings of loss would likely enter my soul.

Why do I do this? Well, I am a history nerd and love telling the story about the seminary. However, I want people to see that every family history is complicated and hard. Each one of us can say that about our own families. Our stories are far messier and more complex than we like to admit. The history of SBTS is no different. Hagiographic interpretations are a great temptation but should be avoided. When I talk about the different turning points in the seminary’s history, I am pointing out the obvious but often ignored truth. No one’s story is merely a simple, straight line of an assortment of connected dots. Each of us can look back over twists and turns that made life feel like a ship battered on the sea. When I bring folks out to Cave Hill though, I want them to see how a providential hand is at work. The institution beginning let alone still existing is a testimony to the grace of God. Through it all, even in some rather dark and messy seasons, an institution still exists to train ministers of the gospel.

I hope that in telling that story in a cemetery, all of us are confronted with the truth that we will die one day. Cave Hill is filled with elaborate monuments and memorials as well as simple gravestones. No matter the wealth or poverty, fame or obscurity, all of humanity is at a level playing field when it comes to death. Each of us will die. We then will face the Maker. Walking through a cemetery reminds me of these words: “Prepare to meet thy God.” An appointment exists for each of us to stand before Him. The only hope that we can possess for that great day is found in the work and person of Jesus Christ. That was the message of Boyce, Broadus, Mullins, Robertson, and McCall. That is the message that we need to proclaim. That is a message that hits me each time I visit the boneyard.