In His Steps

By Charles M. Sheldon

Review Written by C. A. Gerber

The book which began a revolution.

More than one title can come to mind with the former introduction: Karl Marx’s The Communist Manifesto, Thomas Paine’s Common Sense, or Nikolai Chernyshevsky’s What Is to Be Done? Yet rarely, if ever, does a book begin a Christian revolution. Not in the sense of a bloodbath or a rebellion against the established authorities, for In His Steps did neither, but rather a complete reevaluation of the social imaginary and of the theological framework by which generations have operated. This is what makes In His Steps so unique.

When we think of the Social Gospel movement, quite a few things, both positive and negative, come to mind: we may think of Billy Graham’s crusades, or of little women in Sunday school arguing for Prohibition. Martin Luther King’s inspiring I Have a Dream speech is also one of the most commonly thought-of examples of a manifestation of this movement. It is also both possible and reasonable to have a negative reaction to the term social gospel. Indeed, as we move into the second quarter of the twenty-first century, some of its not-so-positive effects are plainly visible in the Christian world: many have abandoned the theistic dogmas of the Christian faith in favor of a works-based existence, where they either ignore, undermine, or deny the basic teachings and historic beliefs of the Christian church. No longer, it seems, are the miraculous biblical claims defensible, for Christianity has been replaced with the moral therapeutic deism diagnosed by others, and which is here outside the scope of further discussion. Christian warriors have become social justice warriors, determined to uproot oppression instead of sin, and fighting for dogmas that sound more Marxist than they do Christian. All of these reactions are valid, for indeed, the Social Gospel movement was all of those. Yet, in reading the book which led to the rise of this outlook, along with the WWJD movement, a few things are striking.

First, many people fall into one of two errors: they either assume that a forerunner of a movement they intensely dislike was a direct cause of the latter, or they assume that, though similar in outlook, one did not lead to the other. Neither of these extremes is accurate. Correlation does not imply causation, but neither does correlation negate causation. The truth, as usual, lies somewhere in between.

In His Steps strikes a remarkable balance, certainly a balance which unbalanced the synthesis of the day, and which may today be synthesized into a new balance, since it has lost much of its originality. Yet it is easy to forget how revolutionary a book this was in its conception. In a society which had experienced two revivals within two centuries, a society based on the Christian faith and sustaining a government which operated on its basic principles, the America of the late nineteenth century had failed in many ways to continue the upkeep of its “eternal fire of liberty.” 

Jim Crow laws in the South were still in full force, and Plessy v. Ferguson was just around the corner; alcoholism was consuming many men and condemning the families of those men to a life of despair, working for incredibly long hours in unhealthy and dangerous conditions. Further, the Gilded Age of elite businessmen and capitalists such as Rockefeller—who himself was heavily influenced by the Social Gospel movement—Carnegie, and Vanderbilt had arrived, pitching labor against capital, and capital against labor, in a way not seen before in the history of economics. Into this world, Charles M. Sheldon dared to ask a simple question: how were the truths of Christianity applicable in such an age?

This question had not been posed in such a way before, for the age of comfort and luxury, an age which persists into the present day, was a new thing with the dawn of the Industrial Revolution. Certainly, asking What Would Jesus Do? in the age when Christians were being fed to the lions would not have been hard to answer, though perhaps hard to execute. In the age of the Reformation, similarly, doing as Christ would do, including enduring persecution and being despised by all, was not an impossible thing, far from it. Yet now, although not immediately obvious, the question gained a more nuanced, complex level. Certainly, the biblical narrative never tells Christians to seek persecution, an aspect which Sheldon ignores, perhaps purposefully, and which, had I been the author, I may have included as a warning against undue fanaticism. Yet neither can we justify passivity, and this is the central narrative thrust.

Sheldon challenges the very definition of Christianity, justly it seems, calling for all Christians to stop retreating and emerge from their passivity:

“...if our definition of being a Christian is simply to enjoy the privileges of worship, be generous at no expense to ourselves, have a good, easy time surrounded by pleasant friends and by comfortable things, live respectably, and at the same time avoid the world’s great stress of sin and trouble because it is too much pain to bear it—if this is our definition of Christianity, surely we are a long way from following the steps of Him who trod the way with groans and tears and sobs of anguish for a lost humanity; who sweat, as it were, great drops of blood; who cried out on the upreared cross, ‘My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?’”

One of the greatest things about this book, which is not entirely unique but certainly uncommon in such a genre, is the use of everyday people as the heroes. Not only this, but unlike Robert Louis Stevenson or Herman Melville, the characters in this book do not demonstrate their greatness by doing great things, but by doing the simple things. And yes, sometimes those simple things are costly. Thus, a singer gives up her chance to become famous and uses her voice instead to glorify God. A newspaper editor decides to risk losing his entire community of readers by posting in the paper only those elements which he believes Christ would approve.

Another of the points which I found interesting is a statement made, though not in these exact words, by one of the characters, Pastor Bruce, who, after resigning his post from his church, justifies his decision by saying that, if he had resigned in order to go to Africa, or to some other mission field, the church would applaud him, the church board would support him, and the community would hail him as a Christ-like hero. Why, then, do they not do the same when Bruce resigns his pastorate in order to minister to those living in the slums of Chicago? Although I think that the fact that Bruce resigned from his church when the members were clearly not living as Christ would have them live would, in a real sense, be an abdication of his responsibility to guide his sheep as a shepherd, I do understand the rationale behind his decision. The point is not that we may disagree with how he did what he did; the point is to understand why he did it.

This book is a call to sacrifice. Sheldon makes clear that giving donations to the poor is not the same thing as sacrificing yourself for their sakes. “The Christianity that attempts to suffer by proxy is not the Christianity of Christ.” Christ did not simply tell us of the way to the Father; He showed us, and likewise are we also called to do, argues Sheldon. There is no middle road, for we are either living as Christ would have us live, or we are not: “Jesus is a great divider of life. One must walk parallel with Him or directly across His way.”

Before proceeding further, I must admit that, though many have thought of this book as a classic, I would dispute such a label. Historically speaking, a classic has been seen as that work which combines the four qualities of authenticity, universality, subject matter, and aesthetics. In His Steps, I fully realize, was not written as a way to earn money by the author—he actually lost quite a bit—nor was it designed to gain universal admiration and praise. The aesthetics of this book are certainly lacking in quality, and I believe the plot to be overly simple. Although the characters are not flat—there are certainly changes seen in the way they relate to others and to God throughout, including stories of redemption—many of them lack the realism necessary for a plot to be considered timeless. Relapses are hardly seen, and when they are, barely discussed. By relapses, I mean moments when a character struggles with his personality or his decisions after making an initial commitment to a certain change. Notable examples are Oliver Twist’s return to Fagin after initially being rescued in Charles Dickens’ masterpiece, or Edmond Dantès struggling to overcome a desire for revenge after his escape. Sheldon seems to portray his characters in an overly idealistic way. While he certainly should strike a note of hope, since the transforming power of the gospel is a central part of the book, he does so in a way that risks romanticizing them, and which detracts from the overall quality of the plot.

Although this book should not be ranked among the classics, that by no means indicates that it should be ignored or dropped from the list of those books which have profoundly shaped the world into which they were first introduced. The themes, if not the quality, are indeed timeless, for they contain a timeless truth: that faith does require action. Arguing over whether this emphasis on action led to the works-based ideal of Christianity of the present day may be pointless, for we cannot separate In His Steps from its historical context and then, with equal fervor, insist that it belongs in ours. As with all other ideas, if the proposals herein contained are taken to an extreme, they may prove excessive, but this is nothing new; certainly it is nothing abnormal.

Rather, this book is not a warning to steer clear of excess, but a rallying cry to return to the true roots of Christian involvement. Charles Sheldon does include theological lessons throughout his book; it is rich in dogma, certain in outlook, and determined in belief, yet equally determined to act because of it. As we look at the Social Gospel movement, perhaps the answer is not to retreat back into the homes of comfort and ease and deny that being a Christian warrior is necessary. Perhaps we must instead recognize exactly what kind of warrior we are called to be: not a Marxist warrior, or one fighting for causes which the left espouses, but rather, a warrior for Christ.

“Jesus, I my cross have taken,
All to leave and follow Thee,
Destitute, despised, forsaken;
Thou from hence my all shall be…”