450 - Carlyle Marney 1917-1978

Carlyle Marney 1917-1978

There are so few preachers these days whom other preachers regard as superlative that when one dies, it seems a near calamity. Carlyle Marney was above all a preacher's preacher. His ministry to congregations, First Baptist Church, Austin, Texas, and the Myers Park Baptist Church, Charlotte, North Carolina, prepared him for his later ministry to ministers at Interpreters' House, Lake Junaluska, and at innumerable summer conferences where he was a favorite and respected figure for so many younger pastors. His death, on July 3, 1978, came a few days before his scheduled stint at the Princeton Institute of Theology. He was a valued and representative member of the Editorial Council of THEOLOGY TODAY.

Someone once asked of him: "With a voice like that, what congregation would not want you as their minister?" Marney replied: "There is no question that a voice helps, but what it says, and who the person behind the voice is, those are the ultimate tests." His gifts were varied and in many ways unique. His capacity to inspire was matched by his ability to probe deeply and unravel the complexities of human motivation.

In Charlotte, there is a thoroughfare called Providence Road that cuts through a maze of streets known as Myers Park. If you know where Providence Road is, then you can usually find your way through the Park. For many people, life is a Myers Park with little direction that makes any sense. Carlyle Marney, to, a generation lost in Myers Park, pointed to a road that led somewhere worth traveling. He had a way of leading others along the highway of life, and he was always looking forward toward The Coming Faith, as one of his many books was titled.

One of his familiar figures of speech played around the notion of the "house" where we live. In the accompanying tribute, "My House of Life," Beverley Johnston gives lyric expression to the levels of existence common to us all, but especially characteristic of Carlyle Marney himself. Our house here, of course, is not our final home, and we think Carlyle would like Phillips' translation of the text: "We have no permanent city here on earth; we are looking for one in the world to come" (Heb. 13:14). Isn't it wonderful to dream that he has his foot in the door for us, if we ever get there?