Page 6300 – Christianity Today (2024)

There are fashions of the day in theology as well as in haute couture. Theological fashion, however, has implications which are more serious than any that may be involved in current modes of dress design; for theology belongs properly to the category of truth, which, in its essence, is not variable, whereas dress design is related to questions of adventitious adornment, which are governed by no fixed laws.

Fashion, whether theological or sartorial, is devoutly followed by the majority, who exalt it to an eminence of sacrosanct inviolability. The assailant of fashion, therefore, is viewed with distaste: he is roundly damned as a dangerous reactionary, accused of profanity, or dismissed as irresponsible and eccentric. Yet the Christian Church would be in a sorry state were it not for courageous individuals who, concerned that truth should prevail, by word and deed attacked the ecclesiasticism that was à la mode made in their day. This was so with the prophets of the Old Testament; preeminently with our Lord who made so uncompromising an assault upon the fashionable pharisaism by which he was surrounded; with Martin Luther and the other masters of the Reformation; with Wesley and Whitefield; with Wilber-force; with Kierkegaard. The lesson they teach us is that fashion so easily becomes a stronghold of error or a retreat for muddled thinking. Effective reaction becomes essential if truth and freedom are to survive. We need fashion-fighters in our day no less than in the past.

The appearance, therefore, of a fashion-fighter in the rarefied atmosphere of academic theology is a welcome portent. (Let us not forget that it is in this olympian realm that fashions are formulated and from which they filtrate into the lower world of the inexpert man-in-the-street.) Dr. James Barr, Professor of Old Testament Literature and Theology in Edinburgh (more recently Princeton) is, perhaps, unlikely to become known as an iconoclast except in academic circles; but his book The Semantics of Biblical Language (Oxford University Press, 1961) is nonetheless an important contribution to fashion-fighting.

In this book he mounts a sustained critical attack on certain methods in the handling of the language, and more particularly the words, of the Bible which today are crowned with the aura of fashionability. It has become customary in the theological world to proclaim that there is a fundamental distinction between Greek and Hebrew thought—that the former is static, abstract, and analytical, while the latter is dynamic, concrete, and comprehensive—and that this distinction is inherent in the terminology of the two languages. Here we have an example of a theory which, having become fashionable, has come to be treated as a factual premise upon which to erect a dogmatic superstructure. Professor Barr charges its advocates with ignorance of genuine linguistic semantics, with making assumptions that are absurd, perverse, and comic, and with “arranging the material in a way which is certain to produce the predicted result.”

He strenuously opposes the assumption that the significance of a word may be determined by reference to its etymology and its supposed root-meaning, and contends that the past history of a word is no infallible guide to its meaning at any given time. “Entymology,” he says, “is not, and does not profess to be, a guide to the semantic value of words in their current usage, and such value has to be determined from the current usage and not from the derivation.” The etymology of a word is, in fact, “not a statement about its meaning but about its history.” Furthermore, “if we agreed that all the words we use should be interpreted from their entymological background and remote historical connections we should reduce language to an unintelligible chaos.” Indeed, he maintains that if the arguments favored by this school of interpretation “have any validity at all, you can make the scripture mean anything you like at all.”

After a critical examination of examples of this fashionable method of interpretation (in the course of which his Edinburgh colleague Professor T. F. Torrance comes in for some rough handling!) Dr. Barr turns his attention to Kittel’s encyclopedic Theological Word-Book of the New Testament, of which he rightly says that “no single work is perhaps more influential in the study of the New Testament today.” His censure of this composite lexicon, with its predilection for “concept history,” its strong Christocentric emphasis, and its conception of revelation as consisting in events in history rather than in ideas or propositions (so characteristic of the fashionable “biblical theology” of our time) cannot be expanded here. He demonstrates how illegitimate some of its basic claims and methods are, how inconsistently its principles are applied, and how far removed they are from the real science of linguistics.

The meaning of a text is to be sought not from the words of that text in isolation from each other, but from the words in combination. Both in interpretation and in translation it is the sentence—words in syntactical association with each other—that is of semantic significance. As Professor Barr says, the connection between biblical language and theology “must be made in the first place at the level of the larger linguistic complexes such as the sentences.” The new “orthodoxy,” scorning as it does the old orthodoxy with its classical doctrine of Scripture and “propositional” religion, has had to invent its own form of biblicism, and in doing so has substituted proof-words in the place of proof-texts. Well may Dr. Barr ask whether we are making progress! More generally, he contends that “what may be a good theological case is spoiled by bad linguistic arguments,” especially when it is “not supported by actual exegetical argument from texts which say things from which the general thesis could be supported.”

We must hope that this brave volume of a bonny Scots fighter will be studied and heeded in the halls of theological fashion.

Education Gone Existential

Theory and Design of Christian Education Curriculum, by D. Campbell Wyckoff (Westminster, 1961, 219 pp., $4.50) and The Role of the Bible in Contemporary Christian Education, by Sara Little (John Knox Press, 1961, 190 pp., $3.50), are reviewed by G. Aiken Taylor, Editor The Presbyterian Journal.

The first book is the outgrowth of the findings of the Curriculum Study Committee of the Christian Education Division of the National Council of Churches. It is billed as “the best theory upon which major Protestant denominations can build their curriculums for the foreseeable future.”

The viewpoint turns upon what modern theology calls “biblical theology.” Now “biblical theology” is not to be confused with an interest in the biblical text as an object of study. Dr. Wyckoff distinguishes between biblical theology and systematic theology in that the former guides the student to experience his religion as well as to understand its subject matter.

Now this identification of experience with biblical theology rests upon the presupposition that in a careful study of the Bible it becomes the Word of God to the one studying it. As it becomes the Word of God it says something of spiritual significance to the one studying it. What it says, under the circ*mstances (a sort of existential apprehension of truth on the part of the student), is the content of “biblical theology.” And the process of learning by responding to the Bible as a witness to and instrument of Revelation (“biblical theology”) is Christian education.

The context of Christian education is the worshiping, witnessing, working community of persons in Christ.

The practice of Christian education is the development and use of group and individual goals that will link together in a vital way personal ends and the great concerns of the Christian faith and the Christian life (probably via topics and problems), held together and focused by the basic objective (that persons at each stage of their lives may know God as he is revealed in Jesus Christ and serve him in love through the church). These group and individual goals will be specific aspects of the learning tasks of Christian education.

If all this doesn’t make much sense, then neither does the book, although it has been hailed and quoted as the foundation of all modern curriculum planning.

The book avoids being dogmatic. Whether talking about subject or method, there must be “variety according to individual, community, and cultural differences.” The only consistency of viewpoint seems to appear in the implication throughout that anything, anywhere may some time in some way contribute to the achievement of the “basic objective.” The field is “relationships;” the program is one of “engaging in the activities and seeking the goals that are characteristic of the community of worship, witness, and work.”

The second book is a clear and significant analysis of what modern theology and therefore modem Christian education conceive Revelation and the Bible to be, and of what bearing these concepts have on their view of what Christion Education ought to be.

The work begins with a survey of Christian educational theory of the past 50 years from Coe through Bower to Vieth and Shelton Smith. It proceeds through theological considerations of Revelation and the Bible as found in William Temple, Karl Barth, Paul Tillich, Emil Brunner, and Richard Niebuhr. Then it discusses the theological considerations developed as these affect the thought of three representative educators: James D. Smart, Randolph Crump Miller, and Lewis J. Sherrill.

Dr. Little points out that what the Church understands Revelation and the Bible to be determines what the Church means when it says that “God speaks” out of the Bible. Her study of the contemporary theologians and educators named provides a significant compendium of thought on the various theological presuppositions governing different theories of Christian education.

It is in her conclusion that the importance of the book emerges, for the synthesis she detects in theology today is doing more to influence the development of new curricula now under way in a dozen major denominations than anything else. In this synthesis the influence of Barth is dominant. It consists of a view of Revelation as event, and of the Bible as a witness to and instrument of Revelation.

Christian education is once again turning to the Bible. But it is turning to a “content” which is not to be identified with the words of the Bible, for the words are but a witness to this “content.” Christian education today turns to the Bible not for subject matter but for a dynamic which comes to man out of the words of the Bible, bearing the power to change persons. Dr. Little calls this neither a content-centered view nor a process-centered view but rather a “Gospel-centered” view of the relevance of the Bible to education.

The book would have been greatly strengthened if room could have been found for the traditional views of orthodoxy, both of the Bible as the objective Word of God and of its use as a means of grace by the power of the Holy Spirit. This, to the author, however, is the “fundamentalists” view “outside” the stream of relevant contemporary thought.

G. AIKEN TAYLOR

As Matthew Saw It

The Coming of the Messiah, by David Baker (The Spenba Company, 1961, 69 pp., cloth $2, paper $1), is reviewed by Ludwig R. Dewitz, Associate Professor of Old Testament, Columbia Theological Seminary.

These concise expository studies of the first two chapters of the Gospel of St. Matthew are a timely contribution to the general discussion of the Virgin Birth and Incarnation. Dr. Baker endeavors to let his readers view these Scripture passages within the perspective of the writer of the Gospel rather than from a twentieth-century point of view. The facts reported by St. Matthew are seen as part of the historic process in which God himself brought his purpose to fruition. While Dr. Baker realizes that the subject of the Virgin Birth is “exceedingly difficult and very delicate,” he succeeds in presenting it in such a manner that, within the context of Scripture, it appears not so much as a baffling problem but rather as the most adequate vehicle for implementing the Incarnation. In reading the book one enjoys the warmth with which the writer desires to make the truth of the Word to be heard, even though, at times, a particular point is overstated. Thus it can hardly be maintained that in the Septuagint “the name Jesus Christ often appeared exactly that way in the text,” nor can the famous prophecy of Isaiah 7:14 be properly discussed without reference to verse 16. Also in his explanation of the respective terms ‘almah and betulah, he appears to underestimate the force of betulah.

There is no doubt, however, that the author has succeeded in elucidating the early chapters of St. Matthew’s Gospel in such a way that both theologian and non-theologian, Jew as well as Gentile, should profit by reading this book.

LUDWIG R. DEWITZ

Reformation Disputes

The Vestments Controversy, by John H. Primus (Kok, 1960, 176 pp., f. 6.90) and Eucharistic Sacrifice and the Reformation, by Francis Clark (Longmans, 1960, 582 pp., 50s.), are reviewed by Gervase E. Duffield, London manager, CHRISTIANITY TODAY.

Dr. Primus deals with a controversy among Protestants during and immediately after the Reformation. And the issue has recently become topical again due to the revision of Anglican Canon Law. The first section of this doctoral thesis deals with the dispute between Hooper and Ridley in 1550–1551, and the second deals with the tensions among the Protestant exiles on their return after the reign of the Roman Catholic Queen Mary. Quotations are often set out in full, and of special interest is the different advices given to Hooper by his Continental friends a Lasco, Bucer, and Martyr (on the first Primus has new evidence). But the discussion is vitiated by the writer seeing the dispute as a clash between conformity and nonconformity (e.g., p. 28). This is to read history backwards and ignore the question of obedience to the godly prince, a tenet which caused Cranmer such a dilemma of conscience. Several quotations mention this idea (e.g., p. 40), but Primus never sees its basic importance. The second part also contains a fundamental error, for the writer has swallowed uncritically the Anglo-Catholic propaganda on the Prayer Book Ornaments Rubric. It was never intended to legalize vestments. Dr. Primus’ work is thorough and well documented, but his use of the split infinitive at least shows he is no Puritan stylistically! He does, however, follow none too reliable guides for general background to the English Reformation (R. W. Dixon and Father Philip Hughes generally), and the thesis illustrates the peculiar dangers of going from one country to another to study the church history of a third.

Dr. Clark’s book is undoubtedly one of the most important on the Reformation period. I say this after due consideration, though it is a strong statement, and Protestants naturally dissent from some Jesuit conclusions. Evidence is adduced to show that Lutheran, Calvinist, and Episcopalian scholars have in recent years accepted some conception of sacrifice involved in the Eucharist (pp. 4 ff.). Ecumenical leaders and Lambeth bishops have hailed the passing of eucharistic disputes, and at last feel agreement is ahead. Like Bishop Neill before him, Dr. Clark thinks otherwise, and he has given us a thorough and fair survey of the evidence including index, bibliography, and extended quotes in two appendices.

The fundamental issue is whether the English Reformers protested against the whole doctrine of the sacrifice of the mass, as their continental friends undoubtedly did, or whether they merely protested against certain late-medieval abuses of the mass, as the Tractarians and more recently Dr. B. J. Kidd and Dr. Eric Mascall hold. Dr. Clark traces the development of this Tractarian idea, and then gives an exhaustive survey of the late-medieval and Reformation evidence, and concludes for the former view. He thinks the case is parallel to that of Anglican orders. The Reformers were not concerned, as modern Anglo-Catholics are, with a continuity of priests in a tactual apostolic succession, and so they made a clean break with Rome in the Edwardine Ordinal. Dr. Clark asks us to face issues squarely (p. 522), and we may be grateful to him for stating the fundamental change at the Reformation so clearly. Perhaps this book will enable ecumenical leaders to see the real cleavage rather than stick paper over the cracks.

G. E. DUFFIELD

Eucharistic Theology

The Lord’s Supper in Methodism 1761–1960, by John C. Bowmer (Epworth, 1961, 64 pp., 6s), is reviewed by A. Skevington Wood, Minister, Southlands, Methodist Church, York, England.

The Wesley Historical Society Lecture delivered at this year’s British Methodist Conference well maintains the scholarly standard of the series. Mr. Bowmer has already dealt with this subject in the period prior to 1761 in a definitive study and, though slighter in content, this further survey forms a useful sequel.

After an opening chapter on “Wesley’s Legacy,” Mr. Bowmer proceeds to indicate the complexities which the Plan of Pacification in 1795 attempted to resolve. He is careful to do justice to developments amongst non-Wesleyan bodies as well as in the mainstream of tradition, and seeks to assess the position since Methodist Union in 1932.

The doctrinal summary is compendiously presented and gathers up the stresses of men like J. Ernest Rattenbury and Vincent Taylor in the realm of eucharistic theology. More attention might have been drawn to the characteristic Methodist interpretation of the sacramental through the evangelical.

A. SKEVINGTON WOOD

Faith And History

The Way of Israel, Biblical Faith and Ethics, by James Muilenburg (Harper, 1961, 158 pp„ $3.75), is reviewed by Edward J. Young, Professor of Old Testament, Westminster Theological Seminary.

Whatever Dr. Muilenburg writes on the Old Testament is significant, and the present volume is no exception. It is an attempt to set forth the faith and ethics of ancient Israel. “Israel,” claims the author, “has a story to tell to the world” (p. 28). Part of the story is the exodus from Egypt. This exodus is “a meeting and a revelation” (p. 48). “The deed (i.e., the exodus) was revelation and the meaning of the deed was revelation, which Israel appropriates by faith” (p. 39). Yahweh triumphed in the redemption from Egyptian bondage; indeed, for Israel the exodus was what the death and resurrection of Christ are for the new Israel (p. 49).

All of this sounds very biblical, until Dr. Muilenburg raises the question what actually happened at the Sea of Reeds. To this the historian must give an equivocal answer because “he really does not know” (p. 49). The historian does not know, but the answer of faith is that “our God delivered us from bondage” (p. 49). The author is to be commended for his candor in thus presenting his position, but it is a position which is opposed to what the Bible itself teaches.

Either God—the one living and blessed Jehovah—did deliver Israel from Egypt or he did not. The Christian faith says that he did. The Bible says that he did. But we cannot say both that he did and that he did not. “Faith” has no warrant for saying that God did deliver Israel from Egypt, if historical study shows that we really do not know what happened.

The Bible teaches that God did deliver Israel from Egypt, and the Christian, believing the Bible to be the Word of God, accepts what it says about the exodus just as he accepts what it says about the Trinity. And the facts of history, insofar as they bear upon the question, will be in conformity with what the Bible says, for God is the God of all truth.

If the faith and ethics of Israel are only the faith and ethics of Israel, they may conceivably have some value for purposes of antiquarian research. If, on the other hand, Israel was actually chosen by the holy God to be His people (as over against the idea that Israel may merely have believed that she was so chosen) and that in the fullness of time Christ came, then the darkness of night has gone. Then truly the burden of sin has been rolled way, for the Dayspring from on high has visited us.

EDWARD J. YOUNG

From The Inside

Had You Been Born in Another Faith, by Marcus Bach (Prentice-Hall, 1961, 186 pp., $3.95), is reviewed by E. Luther Copeland, Professor of Missions, Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary.

In many ways this is a remarkable book. It transports the reader—by narration in the second person—on a descriptive journey through each of the principal religions as one born in the particular faith. The reader is able to identify himself with the devotees of each religion. This affords a most delightful and charitable introduction to world religions.

There are a few inaccuracies and typographical errors.

From the standpoint of the reviewer, the one serious objection to the book is its encouragement of a kind of religious relativism which is not consonant with essential Christian commitment. The author concludes that “the spirit inherent in religions is found to be one spirit when we truly put ourselves in the other person’s place” (pp. 183–184). Possibly the religions, humanly speaking, do share the same spirit because of our common religious consciousness, though even this may be debatable. But do they convey to us in like fulness and authenticity the truth?

The real desideratum is the combining of the empathic approach of this hook, which is essential to the Christian spirit, with the forthright, robust Christian witness which is equally essential.

E. LUTHER COPELAND

Flair For Farfetchedness

Acts of the Apostles: The Unfinished Work of Christ, by August Van Ryn (Loizeaux Bros., 1961, 256 pp., $3.50), is reviewed by John Van Ryn, Minister, Second Christian Reformed Church, Prospect Park, New Jersey.

This book is a compilation of comments on the stories and some of the doctrines found in Acts. The many remarks about Christian living show the author to be a very practical man. The way in which these remarks are expressed evidences a warm sincerity, but the way in which they are sometimes derived from the Scriptures is open to serious question. Profound implications are found in small details which are incidental in the narrative. Some entire stories are allegorized. Paul’s voyage and shipwreck are regarded as “a graphic pictorial record of the descent of the church of God from Jerusalem (where it had its inception) to Rome where eventually the church will find its sad end.” Some of the remarks made on the basis of this approach are interesting but what gives anyone the right to take that approach? The author anticipates criticism but excuses himself by saying he likes this “farfetchedness.” I do not. It opens the door wide for mysterious exegetical excursions which while they may be intriguing can lead one far from the message intended by the Holy Spirit.

JOHN VAN RYN

Calvary’S Blinding Light

The Novelist and the Passion Story, by F. W. Dillistone (Sheed and Ward, 1960, 128 pp., $3), is reviewed by Calvin D. Linton, Professor of English Literature and Dean of Columbian College, The George Washington University.

Having felt his imagination flame up at the Christmas season, the young John Milton produced his magnificent “Nativity Ode.” At Easter, he confidently undertook a poem on the Passion. But even his massive genius was not up to the subject, and the poem, one of his few fragments, appears with this frank note by the author: “This subject the author finding to be above the years he had, when he wrote it, and nothing satisfied with what was begun, left it unfinished.”

Small wonder, then, that lesser writers have found their imaginations incapable of enriching, embroidering, extending, or (least of all) deepening the majestic simplicity of the Gospel accounts. Efforts in modern literature have ranged all the way from the sentimentalizing and Holly-woodizing of Douglas’s The Robe to the shriekingly blasphemous passages of Joyce’s Ulysses. Even with the most pious will in the world, inadequacy is inevitable. The work of an artist is limited by the horizon of his comprehension, and only the divine mind encompasses the dimensions of divine love. The light from Calvary blinds merely human eyes, and comment is as futile as Peter’s urge to “say a few words” at the Transfiguration.

This book (somewhat largely titled for its limited scope) picks four writers and novels, two European (Mauriac’s The Lamb and Kazantzakis’ The Greek Passion) and two American (Melville’s Billy Budd and Faulkner’s A Fable), and examines the way in which each writer allows the underlying form of the Passion sequence to control his narrative and the way each interprets the divine reconcilement. Dr. Dillistone (Dean of Liverpool) brings to his task not only the requisite writing skill and critical ability, but also a deep reverence for his theme. He actually identifies the basic problems facing the novelist (shall he write a frankly historical tale? put the Passion story in modern dress? allegorize it? invent as well as embroider? etc.), and he most ably uses the different religious and philosophical points of view of his four authors to sketch in broadly the contemporary spiritual and intellectual climate.

CALVIN D. LINTON

A Minister On The Ministry

The Christian Ministry, by Charles Bridges (Banner of Truth Trust, 1961, 383 pp., 13s 6d), is reviewed by John Gwyn-Thomas, Rector, Illogan, Cornwall, England.

There must be strong reasons to justify republishing a book written over a hundred years ago. Such books are dated and naturally have nothing to say directly about the present situation in the Church. It is apparent from reading this book that the pace of life in the writer’s day was leisurely compared to the rush and tear of our day. However, its intrinsic worth is such that the minor details which date it are swallowed up in the richness of its value.

We are told that this is “A book for ministers by a minister.” The five divisions outline its scope: (I) A general view of the Christian ministry, (II) General causes of the want of success in the Christian ministry, (III) Causes of ministerial inefficiency connected with our personal character, (IV) The public work of the Christian ministry, and (V) The pastoral work of the Christian ministry. No Christian minister can fail to be interested in the subject matter. Every aspect of the minister’s life is scrutinized. Judgments forged from long experience and wide reading are freely given in each section, and help may be found on almost every page. The godly wisdom of this Anglican pastor who has such a deep sense of his office “of so great excellency and of so great difficulty,” is such that it should rebuke, challenge, and inspire any minister who is mindful of his calling. It comes, therefore, as no surprise to learn that this book was highly valued by the great Murray M’Cheyne. One quotation will indicate the perception of the author. “The kindness of the world is far more formidable than its enmity. Many who are prepared to stem the torrent of its opposition have yielded with compromising indulgence to its paralysing kindness.”

In a day of religious apostacy when the ministry is falling so far short of its high calling, this book is both timely and appropriate. We who so often urge others to consider their condition need to be compelled to face our own state of heart and mind. Here is a book with clear print, at low cost, which is worthy of such a vital task. Even the footnotes provide the reader with some of the choicest pearls of pastoral example and experience.

J. GWYN-THOMAS

Reaching For Relevancy

Christians and Power Politics, by Alan Booth (Association Press, 1961, 126 pp., $3), is reviewed by Lester DeKoster, Librarian, Calvin College.

This is a book which promises much in its title, and that in an area in which much is required this day. It is well that the relevance of Christianity to power politics be stressed; and the author truly says that the voice of the Church is too little heard and still less heeded in the power struggle of our time.

To give the Church his own voice on these critical issues, the author proposes a challenging approach to a Christian view of the three major problems he chooses to discuss, namely, the Great Power Conflict, Military Power, and Europe and Africa. The approach is this: instead of enunciating “general Christian principles and then seeking to apply them to particular cases,” Mr. Booth intends first clearly to display the “questions put to us by events” and then to apply Christian principles to answering these.

This approach, I repeat, promises much. And the author’s delineation of the problems, while not always logically pursued, is informed. But his results are disappointingly meager.

Now, it is no reflection upon the author to chide him with coming short of his mark; this he anticipates, and he well might suggest that a critic he spurred then to go him one better. No, the burden of this reader’s disappointment is not shortcoming on a large assignment, but futility. One is not minded to send the book to his Congressman.

Why not?

Because Mr. Booth is the victim of his own interesting approach. He takes first the problems all right, but he becomes so hypnotized by their complexity that he loses much of his own Christian decisiveness. In contemplation of the ambiguities of history, Mr. Booth comes so to balance off virtues and defects among the contesting sides in the current struggle that his Christian affirmations become little more than widely-accepted platitudes. To the power struggle, for example, he commends (1) positive government, (2) rights of minorities, and (3) religious freedom. To the military he proposes (1) an end to nuclear testing, (2) arms control, (3) a U. N. police force, and (4) defense for man, not man for defense. For Africa he advises (1) patience, (2) effective government, and (3) rural community development. And to the world he offers the example of Christian ecumenicity as evidence that those who disagree can, under God, agree enough to live together.

That all these proposals merit Christian approbation, no one, probably, denies. That, however, they together exhaust, or even adequately adumbrate, the meaning of the Lordship of Jesus Christ over history is at least an open question. Is this then the Christian specification of its answer to “power politics”?

The politician, Mr. Booth maintains, must live by compromise. The politician seeks the possible and is happy to settle when he can for the golden mean. The question is, however, whether Mr. Booth manages much more. As a political “realist,” does the author apprehend political issues as a Christian, or does he hold Christian principles as a politician?

While it is indubitable that the Church must speak to the world as it is; and while it is undeniable that more offense than conviction is, as Mr. Booth warns repeatedly, harvested from callous and proud proclamation of Christian truths; it is equally true that these Christian truths themselves are not altered by the circ*mstances to which they are addressed, and they are not themselves diluted by the charity in which they should be held and spoken. Such a distinction Mr. Booth does not seem to have clearly before him.

He is justly fearful of the high-handed pronouncement of Christian principles, spoken in arrogance and uttered in meaningless ignorance of the real states of affairs. He justly calls upon all to recognize themselves as sinners, no less in need of redemption than are their enemies on world frontiers. But he carries this becoming modesty of assertion into the structure of the principles he asserts. One looks for far more than he finds in Mr. Booth’s book of an invasion of compromise by the absolutes of the Gospel.

This means that the chief value of Mr. Booth’s book is this: it raises again the question whether the Lordship of Christ can minutely be applied to the crucial questions of the day, in ways so distinctively and appreciably characteristic as to merit the title of this volume; and it challenges the Church to keep at this vital quest with all urgent speed.

LESTER DEKOSTER

Bull Sessions Without Beef

Companion of Eternity, by W. Gordon Ross (Abingdon, 1961, 240 pp., $3.95), is reviewed by Emile Cailliet, Stuart Professor of Christian Philosophy Emeritus, Princeton Theological Seminary.

There ought to be a law to regulate the use of titles. While the Food and Drug Administration sees to it that each product be labeled with the correct formula, authors and publishers still freely indulge in the use of enticing headings which may have little, if anything, to do with contents. The present work is a case in point, even as page 192 amplifies the title to mean, Man as the companion of God’s eternity.

Actually the book is a set of variations on the theme, what is man, in terms of potential and worth? These are said to be the two poles of a vast span of possibilities amid which hundreds of questions swiftly proceed back and forth, unhampered by authorities, or ever slowed down by any concern for a possible consensus of basic works. While a number of illustrations are borrowed from the Old Testament and the name of Jesus is mentioned on occasion, Christianity is left out of consideration. And so are prayer, worship, significant institutions, and ethical imperatives. The reader is only taken as far as the idea of God, and that of “a principle of the worth of persons” which science may have taken over “from some other enterprise, such as religion?” (p. 227) How all this adds up to man as the companion of God’s eternity remains a mystery to this reviewer.

The clue to the book must be looked for in another direction. The author teaches philosophy and religion at Berea College, Kentucky. Much of his time is spent in counseling. We need hardly be told that his students speak easily and with confidence to him. Judging from his pages, his brilliance and forbearing kindliness are likely to draw around him circles of debaters anxious to show forth the skill of youth, as if debate was a rehearsal for some Olympian festival. On such occasions, theses and hypotheses are likely to be hotly debated with reference to fictitious situations. However ill-kept the ancient type of sophistry, it will pursue the old lines of a rhetoric which puts everything in question, as is bound to be the case in the midst of a widely-diffused culture such as ours. Once more, Lucian’s Tyrannicide in some kind of new garb puts in a reappearance in the philosophic banter of a campus “bull session.”

What we have in the present book may well be described as the record of a succession of such “bull sessions” extending over 230 pages. Hence the looseness of chapter headings such as, “Questions and Questioning,” “Language,” “Statements,” “Definition and Meaning,” “Science,” “Approach and Method,” “Psychology,” “Personality,” and so forth, together with a great deal of telescoping and overlapping. For instance, although religion is said on page 15 to be “peculiarly relevant to man,” and henceforth becomes a subject of conversation throughout the volume (especially in chaps. IV, V, VII, X), the question as to what it is once more comes up for consideration in Chapter XI. Not that an inductive method of discovery has been used to lead up to the characterization obtained. The same is quite independent of what has been said before. It is as though each “participant” had his say. Religion accordingly is “defined” (?) as 1. loyalty, 2. acquiring or receiving the dynamic to “do,” 3. caring, 4. relationship, 5. the perceiving of distinctions, 6. perfection, 7. love. Yet, one may ask what of the witness of key works on the subject? To which the answer, I suppose, is that a “bull session” is not a research seminar. As the author has already explained on page 157, “There has been a veritable flood of books during the past few generations dealing with various aspects of the story of religion or religions …” but, as Fromm suggests, are not such primitive forms as ancestor worship, totemism, fetishism, ritualism, the cult of cleanliness, and so on, just ancient names for what we now call neuroses? No wonder such basic works as those of E. B. Tylor, R. R. Marrett, E. Durkheim, L. Levy Bruhl, or R. Otto—to name only a few—are ignored in that eleventh chapter “What is religion?”—documentary references being to The American Mercury, F. A. Spencer’s Beyond Damascus, and W. A. R. Ley’s Ethics and Social Policy. In the same setting, no effort is made to trace back problems to their origination. For instance, the Parmenidean critique of Heracleitus and the subsequent sharpening of the original argument from language by Cratylus of Athens, are sacrificed to the spirit of a live “bull session.” And this is what we get:

“Nothing” is a noun, isn’t it?

Yes.

And a noun is the name of a person, place, or thing, isn’t it?

Yes.

Then if “nothing” is a noun, and if a noun is the name of something, “nothing” is therefore something.

In a work like this, debate at the contemporary level is hardly conducive to a structure in depth, and so, attempts at exposition again and again have recourse to the artificial method of enumeration: In the first place …, In the second place …, sometimes up to the seventh place. A more regrettable consequence still, is that entire sections suffer from a lack of historical perspective. This is true, for example, of the oversimplified section on The (!) method of science (pp. 113–117) where the modern ways of mathematical construction do not come within view.

The comforting impression left by the present book is that of having spent a few hours with a born teacher whose warmth and versatility animate many a page. Withal, however, there lingers wonder as to why intellectual honesty need be equated with near hostility to any kind of positive assertion, and this to the point where a man no longer knows on what to base his belief. Yet, somehow, many campus “bull sessions” in America today have a way of ending on such a note, as a Western world without radiance increasingly loses ground to an Eastern world with a false radiance.

EMILE CAILLIET

The Need Of The Church

Learning to Live, by Alan Redpath (Eerdmans, 1961, 132 pp., $2.25), is reviewed by John R. Richardson, Minister, Westminster Presbyterian Church, Atlanta, Georgia.

The pastor of Chicago’s Moody Memorial Church presents 15 biblical sermons in this volume. The messages, says Mr. Redpath, have been preached from his pulpit. They were prompted by church problems arising out of situations which are inevitable in the life of a metropolitan church. The dominant motif pervading all the messages is that the Lordship of Christ is the one solution to congregational problems and the essential step to a revival in the local church.

Here we see a warm-hearted pastor pleading for consistent Christian living in the lives of his hearers. The Christian life is not portrayed as something easy, but as something great. Difficulties are honestly faced and intelligently handled. Great truths are set forth in beautiful simplicity, but never superficially. For example, the preacher says forthrightly, “I would remind you that there is only one ground of approach to God, and that is through the shed blood of Christ, the Cross, the Atonement.”

Redpath’s messages reflect splendid natural endowments, a burning desire to know the mind of God in the passage under scrutiny, and a strong conviction that biblical truth is supernaturally adapted to human requirements. Those who recognize the great need today for expository preaching of the right kind will soon discover that this book performs an important service in this field.

JOHN R. RICHARDSON

Where Lie The Roots?

How the World Began, by Helmut Thielicke, translated by J. W. Doberstein (Muhlenberg Press, 1961, 308 pp., $4.50), is reviewed by Editor Carl F. H. Henry.

Professor Thielicke’s sermons on beginnings are a rebuke to the wide tendency to avoid preaching the early chapters of Genesis in a scientific era. His 18 life-situation sermons fall under six general subjects: “The Beginning,” “The Creation of Man,” “The Story of the Fall,” “The Story of Cain and Abel,” “The Story of the Flood,” and “The Building of the Tower of Babel.” There is power and relevance, and rewarding insight as well. Thielicke identifies himself with his message and the text soon grips readers and listeners.

A “postscript for theological readers” announces his decision to preach in the name of the “redactor” (of Genesis) and not of the actual narrative “sources,” and to make man’s spiritual predicament rather than harmony with science the main concern. Yet sources and science cannot, it seems to us, be permanently sealed off this way, any more than the Communist Jugendweihe could be detached from religious loyalties.

Thielicke at least goes beyond the minister who airs nothing but doubts and fails to proclaim as much spiritual truth as he can, and the preacher as well who finds Genesis only an opportunity to contrast or to harmonize modern scientific ideas with the text. But beneath existential relevance and driving power one finds many a well-worn mediating motif: “We have our roots in the animal kingdom” (p. 64) and are “higher animals … related to the fishes, the dogs and the cats” (p. 65); the fall of Adam is “the mystery of our humanity” (p. 166); and so on including the still-relevant speech of the “mythical” serpent (p. 123). Yet our spiritual relationship to God uniquely defines us (p. 75), and the conflict between evolutionary science and Christianity is unreal: “Faith and science do not contradict each other at all—simply because the assertions they make lie upon completely different levels” (p. 82).

But some of Professor Thielicke’s “faith” assertions seem garnered from The Origin of Species rather than from the Scriptures. What of Paul’s “there is one flesh of men, another flesh of beasts, another of fishes, another of birds” (1 Cor. 15:39)? Does science have no bearing whatever on the virgin birth and bodily resurrection of Christ? More than once these moving sermons will leave the hearer impatient for some firmer word on the historico-scientific significance (as well as spiritual-moral import) of the text.

CARL F. H. HENRY

Charles Simeon: How Tall?

Charles Simeon: Essays Written in Commemoration of his Bi-Centenary, edited by A. Pollard and M. Hennell (SPCK, 1959, 190 pp., 21s), is reviewed by John S. Reynolds, Rector, Dry Sandford, Abingdon, England.

It is difficult to be wholly enthusiastic about commemorative essays, even when they celebrate the 200th anniversary of the birth of so great a man. Almost inevitably much that has been said before is re-said in a different way. In Simeon’s case it seems nigh impossible to avoid well-worn quotations. It is also difficult to view his work objectively, as the definitive history of the evangelical party in the Church of England has yet to be written. Nevertheless we have here seven chapters by competent writers, and some have original contributions to make. In any case it is always worthwhile to be taken afresh to meet Charles Simeon as a man, and as a devoted Christian, his character still draws one as it attracted those who were his followers.

Religious movements have usually tended to be thought of in connection with “father figures,” whose influence has been exaggerated as the years have gone by. To some extent this is the case with Simeon and with this book. Allowing for qualifying observations, Simeon is still made to stand out as the man but for whom it is thought doubtful whether the evangelical majority would have remained in the Church of England. Closer attention to the history of Cambridge evangelicalism (or of Oxford evangelicalism, or of that of the country as a whole) in the years before and after Simeon’s emergence hardly suggests such a conclusion. There is room for further research on the limits as well as the undoubted extent of Simeon’s influence.

J. S. REYNOLDS

Thirty-Seven Meditations

The Upward Calling, by Reginald E. O. White (Eerdmans, 1961, 202 pp., $3.50), is reviewed by Robert Strong, Minister, Trinity Presbyterian Church, Montgomery, Alabama.

Here are 37 meditations on the Christian life by a British author of established reputation. The essays are well written. The treasury of Scripture is extensively drawn upon. One’s spirit is stirred. Christian piety makes helpful contact with life’s practical business. Appealing beyond all the other sections were the discussions on illuminating metaphors: son, scholar, pilgrim, athlete, soldier, slave. This book would make an excellent gift.

ROBERT STRONG

Great Baptists

An Enquiry into the Obligations of Christians To Use Means for the Conversion of the Heathen, by William Carey (New fac. ed., Carey Kingsgate, 1961, 87 pp., 10s 6d) and An All-Round Ministry, by C. H. Spurgeon (Banner of Truth, 1960, 396 pp., 10s 6d), are reviewed by Robert M. Horn, Universities Secretary of The Inter-Varsity Fellowship, London.

Carey’s still very readable Enquiry was first published in 1792, and although it had no wide sale then, it stands at the head of the modern missionary movement’s literature. After a brief introduction stressing that those who pray “Thy Kingdom come” should be concerned with his subject, Carey makes enquiry into the binding nature of the Great Commission, into what has been and can be done overseas, and into the numbers of those in various parts of the world who had not then heard of Christ.

While this is a plain and sober statement, yet it has an element of the prophetic. His desire for the formation of missionary societies and his suggestion (hinted at here, explicitly made to Andrew Fuller elsewhere) that “a general association of all denominations” should be held every 10 years, have now become facts—though perhaps not in exactly the way Carey meant. Some of his suggestions still await full implementation, that is, concerning the religious views of missionaries, and the encouragement of spiritual gifts in national Christians.

The 12 addresses given by Spurgeon between 1872 and 1890 at his annual conference of ministers represents him addressing what he regarded as his most important audiences. They survey the whole range of ministerial responsibility, and are of interest for at least three reasons.

First, because they reveal a man of unique gifts and spiritual stature, with the courage to match a full faith in the power of God and in the ultimate triumph of His word.

Second, because they arise from Scripture rather than from a passing situation. No Christian worker can fail to benefit from his insight into the demand and dangers of a minister’s life—insights pressed home with touches of humor and a gift for illustrations. His counsel on preaching, evangelistic practices, and ministerial training still is relevant.

Third, because these addresses help in measure toward an understanding of how the present church situation arose. The theological and ecclesiastical situation then and now is, of course, very different, but in reading Spurgeon it becomes evident that the differences are more of degree than principle, and that we are reaping what his generation sowed. It is most apparent in the last three addresses, delivered in the years of the Down-grade controversy. This arose through the widespread departure from the historic evangelical faith within his own denomination. That alarmed Spurgeon, who sought in vain for reassurance on this matter from the denomination as a whole, and consequently had regretfully to withdraw. “For my part I am quite willing to be eaten of dogs for the next fifty years; but the more distant future will vindicate me” (p. 360). These addresses evidence his remarkable ability to foresee from its germinal form the final development of a theological trend or a practice in church life. They still have their lessons, for Spurgeon’s fears have proved since not to have been without justification.

ROBERT M. HORN

Story Of Formosa

Christianity in Taiwan, by Hollington Tong (China Post, 1961, 250 pp., $1.75), is reviewed by Margaret Sells, Presbyterian (U. S.) Missionary in Taiwan.

Dr. Hollington Tong, recently Taiwan’s ambassador to the United States, has written a well-documented history of Taiwan, Free China’s stronghold.

Dr. Tong, journalist and writer, weaves unique facts into his history: (1) When the Pilgrim Fathers were settling in New England, Chinese history in Taiwan began. (2) At that time a Chinese patriot, Koxinga, prepared from Taiwan to attack the Manchus. The attack failed, but Taiwan became known. (3) Christian growth and Taiwan history are inextricably linked. (4) Few other places have survived so many foreign invasions.

How these polyglot people, former head-hunters, tribal people, Hakkas, Mainland Chinese and Taiwanese are now being welded together makes fascinating reading.

No one can read without a thrill how brave Chi Oang, risking her life, carried the Gospel through the mountains. We read of Chang Hong, a modern Stephen, who was stoned to death for his faith; and of Lim Kiam Kin, a tribal Paul, who led whole villages to Christ.

So, despite persecution, the Church has grown on plains and mountains. The missionary is still needed, however, and the door is wide open.

MARGARET SELLS

Fountain Of Vigor?

Is Christ Divided?, by Lesslie Newbigin (Eerdmans, 1961, 41 pp., $1.25), Evanston to Delhi, 1954–1961 (Report of Central Committee of World Council), 288 pp., Geneva, and The Ecumenical Movement, by Norman Goodall (Oxford, 1961, 240 pp., $4.50), are reviewed by William Childs Robinson, Professor of Historical Theology, Columbia Theological Seminary.

The volume by Bishop Newbigin abounds in evangelical sentiments, such as, “The Christian knows that he is a condemned sinner who has no title to life, much less to glory.” “[He] dare not glory in anything save in the Cross of Jesus Christ.” “We shall not ask, what is coming to the world, because we know who is coming.” In missions, “the one essential is the Gospel of the saving power of Jesus Christ.” We fear, however, that having gotten into the organizational merger of the Church of South India, the author has almost come to a better than thou attitude in this book. That is, every denomination which is not in some kind of a merger is ipso facto in the wrong. In the United States the Campbellite attack on the denominations issued in adding three new denominations; and it is not evident that the Church is less vigorous here where there are sundry denominations than in countries where there is (or was) a state church.

The Report of the Central Committee of the World Council is a responsible account of its doing and an invaluable reference book. Secretary W. A. Visser’t Hooft shows that since Evanston the council has become more truly a world council in the addition of churches of the Soviet Socialist Republic and in conversations with the Roman Catholic church, that the missionary dimension has come to the fore, a renewed emphasis has been put upon “the calling of the churches to concrete, visible unity,” and that it has struggled for just and peaceful human relations. The spokesmen have difficulty in asserting for the world council a “plus” beyond the sum total of the individual churches without at the same time affirming a super church. The secretary defines the voice of the council as being both a voice of the churches and a voice to the churches.

Secretary Norman Goodall gives a condensed account of the story of the ecumenical movement for those who do not have time for the Rouse-Neill History of the Ecumenical Movement. Milestones are traced in the London Missionary Society, the Evangelical Alliance, Edinburgh, John R. Mott, J. H. Oldham, Faith and Order, Life and Work, and the World Council of Churches. The stress here, as in the other books, is on witness, service, and unity. The question is the how of that unity. We rejoice in the conviction of “a given unity in Christ,” and in the growing realization of a unity in baptism and in the proclamation of the Word. Why not agree that we are to express our oneness in Christ by a mutual sharing in the means of grace which he has ordained rather than in some structural solidification in a monolithic organization of man’s ordering? The reviewer concurs with the leading Methodist preacher of Atlanta, Dr. Pierce Harris, in preferring the ecumenical fellowship to an ecumenical union of churches.

WILLIAM CHILDS ROBINSON

No Sacred Cows

Man’s Peace God’s Glory, by Eric S. Fife (Inter-Varsity Press, 1961, 144 pp., cloth, $3.50; paper, $1.95), is reviewed by Horace L. Fenton, Jr., Associate General Director, Latin America Mission.

Mr. Fife, missionary director of Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship, has written a book that could be read with pleasure and profit by great numbers of Christians. His subject matter—the relation of the individual Christian to God’s great purpose in the world—is anything but new, yet he presents it with a freshness that commands attention, and with an urgency that insists on a response.

The author has no respect for “sacred cows.” He does not hesitate to challenge ideas which have been long accepted by Christians, but which may well be more popular than biblical. He insists on a solid biblical motivation for missions, and on the utter inadequacy of any other kind of motivation. He has a gift for words, and he uses it effectively to stab us awake. In helpful fashion, he deals with the practical aspects of the missionary enterprise. The book is well worth reading.

HORACE L. FENTON

Index Bound?

Ecumenicalism and Romanism, Their Origin and Development, by Peter J. Doeswyck, (Knights of Christ, 1961, 158 pp., $3), is reviewed by C. Stanley Lowell, Editor of Church and State.

There can be no doubt that Peter J. Doeswyck has read prolifically in the field to which he devotes his attention in this book. The claim on the jacket that he “has read every available book from the time of Christ till the Reformation” is interesting. His training at the University of Freiburg for orders in the Roman church which he served as a priest was also helpful to his scholarship in medieval studies.

Dr. Doeswyck knows the Bible. He knows the early Fathers. He knows Romanism from the inside and he knows Protestantism from the inside. He is a gold mine of information. He is factual and accurate. Less can be said for the arrangement of his material which is set forth somewhat jerkily rather than in an even flow. The material fascinates but does not seem to get where it ought to be going.

There is, now and then, a disposition to oversimplify. On page 145, for example, Dr. Doeswyck comments: “As there is no Ecumenical Church today, it cannot hold an Ecumenical Council. The Council proposed for 1961 must be termed a General Council of the Roman Church.”

This is technically true. Indeed, it is precisely true. But it overlooks some considerations. The Roman Pope will allege that his Roman council is an ecumencial council. Such is his organization’s influence over mass media that his council will attain billing as an ecumenical council of the Church. In millions of minds, Protestants among them, it will be so regarded. It will convey certain implications and effects of an ecumenical council even though it is not one. With this fact we have also to reckon.

Some will find Dr. Doeswyck rough hut not without ingenuity. Witness his observation that “such (church) councils have no higher motive than the assembly of the Mafia at Appalachin, N.Y., which discussed its penal system, proper jurisdiction and rights to the spoils!” (Exclamation mark mine.) There are few dull moments in this book despite the weight of its subjects. Convinced Protestants will profit by it. I would imagine that all Roman Catholics will be directed to let it strictly alone.

C. STANLEY LOWELL

In His Image

God’s Great Plan for You, by Richard R. Caemmerer (Concordia, 1961, 90 pp., $2), is reviewed by Armin R. Gesswein, Chairman, Spiritual Life Commission, National Association of Evangelicals.

Digging from the heart of the Bible, Dr. Caemmerer presents this grand theme from a fresh angle of interest and with keen insight in six well-written chapters.

The whole plan centers in “God’s image” for man. Man mirrors God. Not only is man like God, but God is like man, originally. Man then lost his image. But it reappears in Christ, who by his redemption restores it for fallen man. In pages 51 and 53 the author deals very succinctly with the sin barrier in every form. But there is much more, for as the plot thickens with the exciting interest of full discovery (p. 50 ff.) Christ becomes our very Life. The Spirit, using the Word as his tool, refashions Christ within. So, the pattern “ultimately is not a re-shape of ourselves” but according to Christ—in both likeness and life. By the same miracle we discover ourselves to be in a oneness with others who are so re-made. Further, God’s people (the Church) are not only the repaired, they are the tools for recapturing the image of God for themselves as well as for others.

The book is provocative and practical. At the end he shows how the restored image is at work in all that man deems highest on earth, including love, knowledge, and making the invisible God visible. Life turns out to be Christ’s life, love his love, and so forth.

Each chapter leads us up a golden stairway of logical thought to God’s ultimate meaning for man, and provides illustrations apt and luminous. The style is that of an instructor talking to an adult catechumen class.

It is a fine treatise for ministers, and provides refreshing thought for any reader. The final recapture of the chapter is a distinctive and useful addition.

ARMIN R. GESSWEIN

The Free Act Of Grace

The Doctrine of Justification, by James Buchanan (Banner of Truth, 1961, 528 pp., 15s), is reviewed by Colin Brown, Tutor, Tyndale Hall, Bristol, England.

Justification by faith has become a debased concept these days. In some circles (those of a Ritschlian coloring) it has come to mean little more than realizing one’s mistake in thinking that God is angry. In others (and here we must include the Barthians) justification is treated as synonymous with atonement so that mankind as a whole is justified by the Incarnation, culminating as it does in the death of Christ. Furthermore, there are voluble sections of the theological world which claim that the category of justification is hardly relevant to the religious needs of modern man.

Buchanan’s work was first published in 1867. His definition follows the Puritan Westminster divines: “Justification is an act of God’s free grace, wherein he pardoneth all our sins, and accepteth us as righteous in his sight, only for the righteousness of Christ imputed to us, and received by faith alone” (Shorter Catechism, Q. 33). Hence it is not surprising that Buchanan expounds justification in the context of the Law and in terms of the Covenant. What will be surprising to some is the massive evidence and cogent argument which he brings to hear on his case. In an exposition lasting close on 200 pages, Buchanan offers an exact analysis of the biblical concept together with an account of its place in biblical thought. All this is prefaced by a judicious survey of equal length which traces the doctrine in the history of the church.

Like any other book, Buchanan’s bears the marks of the age in which it was written, and his age was not noted for the terseness of its style. No doubt his biblical and forensic vocabulary will jar readers in some quarters. His refusal to divorce devotion from doctrine may be deemed a vice by theologians interested only in technicalities and preachers who want their sermons pre-packed. But for all that, Buchanan’s hook remains a classic, and his teaching has yet to be refuted.

COLIN BROWN

The Homiletics Of Thomas

Outline Studies in the Gospel of Matthew, by W. H. Griffith Thomas (Eerdmans, 1961, 476 pp., $5.50), is reviewed by Ronald Ward, Professor of New Testament, Wycliffe College, Toronto.

In a generation that now largely “knows not Thomas,” it is good that his writings should consistently be brought before the public. In the year of his centenary, his daughter has gathered together her father’s notes in systematic form. Dr. Thomas came up the hard way, studying in his spare time and far into the night. But for all that, he gained a first at Oxford, became minister of St. Paul’s, Portman Square, and Principal of Wycliffe Hall, Oxford. In 1910 he accepted a Professorship at Wycliffe College, Toronto, and nine years later he crossed the border for a wider teaching and preaching ministry in the United States and England and China.

The present volume is exactly what it claims to be—outline studies. For the preacher or teacher who, like Alexander Maclaren, feeds his people with a threepronged fork, reading this book will be a joy. The analytic method reminds us of another giant, Graham Scroggie. There is scholarship here, scholarship mediated to the masses, and experience. In one instance we are given the notes of a sermon first preached when Griffith Thomas was 24. One would judge that they exhibit an amazing early maturity or the notes “grew” with the author. Occasional obiter dicta offer a sermon outline thrown in as an extra, or a suggestion to he followed up. “N. B. This prayer was ignorant prayer, and reminds us of futil prayer (Deut. 3:26).”

Here is an example of homiletic art and of evangelical exposition—a useful servant for the man who keeps his soul alive!

RONALD WOOD

Two contemporary prophets (admittedly fallible) ask, “What’s ahead for the Church in our generation?” With an eye on trends of the day they offer some disconcerting possibilities.—ED.

“Preachin’ sure has changed durin’ the past 60 years,” lamented Rev. Doeful. Members of the Middletown Ministerial Association listened indulgently as the aged preacher continued to decry the waywardness of the modem ministry.

If we look askance at those who long for “the good ol’ days,” remember that religious rhetoric seems to be continually changing. How will we react to the rhetorical practices of our ministry by 1981?

Let those who can endure the rigors of the journey join the religious group at our home church on a Sunday morning in November, 1981. If we attend a religious group meeting it must be on Sunday morning; Sunday evening meetings were discontinued by all religious groups 15 years ago.

We enter the auditorium, which is flooded with soothing recorded music, and an affable usher greets and seats us. The director of group music, smiling good-naturedly, walks on stage and announces a song. We recognize the selection as one that will foster healthful inter-personal relationships and promote a creative interchange of ideas.

Dr. Dudley, the religious leader, appears with notebook in hand. For a moment we are starded; it seems that he has forgotten the amenities of clerical dress. No clerical collar? No suit or tie? Then we notice that the other male members of the group are also wearing well-tailored slacks and sports shirts.

Religious Rhetoric, 1981

The religious leader opens his notebook and announces that the topic for the discussion will be “Interplanetary Communication.” After terms are defined, rooms for the various age groups are designated. The group leaders we are told, are highly-competent people. They have prepared themselves by taking discussion course at Dynamic University.

With great pride Dr. Dudley announces that Miss Sweetly has received her diploma in Kindergarten-dynamics. She will now promote permissive interaction among the younger children.

The music leader lifts a rousing verse of “When We All Work Together.”

Then we join the people as they hurry toward their group rooms.

A sign over a doorway reads “Nursery Group I” and demands our attention. Miss Dullight, a member of our group, offers to show us about the nursery. In amazement we behold the babies feeding, sleeping, and playing without the aid of an adult attendant. The mothers have gone to join their groups in confidence that an electronic bed will detect and perform the needed functions for the little ones. The bed, with kinesthetic qualities of the mother’s body, feeds and burps the baby very efficiently. It even plays a recording of the mother singing and talking. But the most marvelous feature of the bed is the automatic diaper changer which, utilizing disposable diapers, performs as deftly as any mother.

We now wander in wonderment to our group room whereupon we are greeted by the group leader, Mr. Goodwill, who introduces us to the group.

As the discussion proceeds we notice that the contribution of one young man indicates that he is well informed. When this is pointed out by a group member, the young man confesses that he has been using sub-liminal sleep tapes in order to amass more data concerning the subject. In fact, he points out, the old-fashioned classroom lecture is being replaced by the sub-liminal tape. The tape is more efficient, the data is well organized, it takes less time than the lecture, and the cost is minimal. At this point we feel embarrassed because our education was acquired the hard way.

When the discussion period is over the groups again convene in the auditorium. Group leaders are seated on the stage. Dr. Dudley then collects a tabulation of the data presented and the conclusions reached in the several groups. We watch in amazement as this material is fed into an electronic computer which Dr. Dudley affectionately calls “The Religious Prophet.” The computer indicates that in regard to the available data, and the conclusions reached, Beta Group has reasoned more cogently and is the winner. As a reward the winning group is presented with free tickets for a space flight around the earth.

Dr. Dudley reminds us that the electronic cafeteria in the church serves delicious foods and that the profits are used by the religious group. After we are dismissed, Dr. Dudley invites us to lunch and soon we are delighted listeners as he describes religious work in 1981.

Religious training has changed. Instead of receiving instruction in homiletics, the young clerics of the theological seminaries now become experts of group dynamics, cybernetics, and of electronics. The pulpit pounder belongs to history.

As the conversation progresses the good religious leader points to the importance of religious calls. By now we are not surprised to learn that his calls are made from his climatically-controlled office via visa-phone. Through this medium he can visit more families each day. To establish rapport, he confides, background music corresponding to the socio-economic status of the family is played during visits.

When he is away, Dr. Dudley explains, the religious group member may receive desired guidance by recorded message via the visa-phone. The member may also take advantage of inspirational symposiums and group discussions beamed from the religious satellites to his own life-like, three-dimensional, television receiver.

The competitive techniques which were used by religious groups of past years have been superseded by attitudes and methods of co-operation. It is much better to stress similarities than differences among religious groups, observes Dr. Dudley. In fact, the Catholics and Protestants learned that it was far better to launch a satellite together than to orbit them separately and shoot them down. They now employ inter-faith commercials.

One inter-faith advertisem*nt begins with a zoom-in on a husband and wife engaged in a heated argument. The announcer booms, “What do religious leaders say?” The scene shifts. The husband and wife are seated in the office of a religious leader. Leaning forward and reeking sincerity and authority, the religious leader says, “Religion will relieve anxieties and will not upset your marriage.

Another inter-faith co-operative shows a shapely young lady emerging from the co*ckpit of a space plane. She removes her space helmet revealing silken, wavy, blond hair.

“Oh Miss!” says the announcer, “Would you step over here a moment?”

“Of course!” she exclaims smiling dramatically.

“Isn’t flying a space plane a risky business for a young lady?”

“Oh, I don’t think so,” says the charming creature.

“My!” the announcer bubbles with admiration, “I can see you’re a girl who thinks for herself. Tell me. Why did you land here this Sunday morning?” “Because,” she says, “I always attend a religious group on Sunday morning. I enjoy the healthful inter-personal relationships one can find there.”

After a fadeout the announcer, the very epitome of sincerity, pleads, “Friends wherever you are this morning, don’t forget to attend the religious group of your choice.”

Another religious commercial dollys in on a burly fellow tinkering with his new auto—the Orbital Eight.

“Say!” says the announcer, “That’s quite a car! Yours?”

“Yep!” replies the car-tinkerer.

“Is it true that the Orbital eight is not as maneuverable as the Atomic Six?” “Yep,” says he, “but I like power and speed. The Orbital gives me that.”

“Oh,” the announcer oozes with admiration, “you are the kind of man who knows what he wants.”

“Yep!” he replies patting the Orbital affectionately.

“Since this is Sunday, what religious group do you plan to attend?” “Protestant,” replies the man.

“Would you recommend that everyone attend a Protestant group?”

“Heavens no! Let them go where they want to. It really doesn’t make much difference,” observes the man.

After a fade-out the announcer gushes, “Friends, attend the religious group of your choice today.”

We all have a healthy chuckle; then Dr. Dudley points out that only three religious bodies exist in 1981. We hasten to state that 257 recognized religious groups existed in 1961. Dr. Dudley tells us that the smaller religious groups, along with those that refused federal aid, were forced to disband for lack of money. This happened about 10 years ago.

The mention of money leads us to a query concerning the relationship of the salaries of religious leaders in 1981 to the salaries of old-time pastors. We learn that the salary of a religious leader is now determined by the average of the salaries of the members of his group. Most religious leaders now receive approximately $20,000 per year.

I think that I shall remain in 1981. What did you say, Brother Doeful?

BERYL F. MCCLERREN

Lecturer

Department of Speech

Southern Illinois University

Carbondale, Illinois

Kurkburo, 1985

A thin, slightly-stooped man wearing a threadbare greyish herringbone topcoat and evidently apprehensive, seemed to cast his eye about in a final search for a friendly face or that of an old acquaintance in the closing seconds before the elevator shot down from its 60-story height in response to his call.

He had just scanned the long bulletin board on the corridor wall for “Personnel and Placement” in the towering National Kurkburo Building in upper Manhattan and found to his relief that it was on the 55th floor, which would give him a longer ride and consequently a few seconds more in which to spruce up his courage and compose once again his lines now half erased by anxiety.

As the door slid open with the slightest click three men, well dressed, with confident bearing, entered. Something amusing had just been said, for the laughter they brought with them from the street continued as they walked quickly into the elevator with its lone passenger. One, the tallest, broke the gaiety:

“Ed, could you be in my office tomorrow afternoon at two? We’re trying to wind up this Common Curriculum outline of Beliefs and Aims. The heads of the Indian and Japanese committees are coming in. It’s due at the printer’s in every country just one month from now and we’re late already.”

“Sure, Jim. Will it take long? I’m leaving for Capetown on the five o’clock rocket for the African church session Wednesday. We’re trying to iron out the final differences on the World Creed, you know.”

“Shouldn’t take very long. I just want your reactions to a few phrases on the Trinity and the Reformation. I’ll send the copy down to you this afternoon.

Your presence tomorrow would help sew it up and this is the last time I can give it before the printer’s deadline.”

“Be there at two and be sure to send me the copy, Jim.”

This speaker got off with the third man at floor 40. The tall one, Jim, left the elevator at 52.

Quickly the ominous-lighted figures indicated 55. Joseph Brewster walked out as slowly as its automatic door would allow. To his relief Personnel and Placement was far down the hall. He entered and gave his name.

Like a good Manhattan receptionist the girl inside was cordial and efficient. “Mr. Brewster? Oh, yes. Mr. Carson is expecting you. He’s busy right now but should be through in a few moments. Won’t you sit down, please?”

Absentmindedly he picked up and thumbed through some back copies of United Church Togetherness Magazine. A hum of two men’s voices penetrated the substantial door marked A. Floyd Carson, Director, Personnel and Placement. A few seconds later two men emerged, one much the same age as Brewster himself, perhaps just past 60, carrying a topcoat. The other man was around 40, evidently Mr. Carson.

This was confirmed when he said to the secretary, “Miss Chapman, would you prepare for Mr. Bradford a transfer approval from the Midwest area, diocese six to Northeastern two. Send the usual copies to personnel in each diocese and area, with covering letters. Mr. Butterfield will give you the rest of the information you need.”

He turned to the other man whose face was a mixture of humiliation, gratitude, and relief. “I hope you like your new assignment, Mr. Butterfield, and let me know how you get along. Come in, anytime.”

Turning to Brewster, he said: “Mr. Brewster? Come right on in.”

Brewster sat uneasily in the chair across a large desk from Carson. Around the walls shelves full of books announced a fairly complete array of works on Personnel, Management, Tests, Measures, and Human Relations. Immediately facing him on the desk itself was the current issue of Aptitude Tests for Mature People.

“Sorry to keep you waiting, Mr. Brewster. I have a committee meeting in a half hour and I’ll have to be briefer than I should. I’ll get to the point. You want to transfer from Connecticut to Arizona for reasons of your wife’s health. Right?”

“Yes, she’s had an asthmatic condition a long time and lately …”

Carson interrupted, “Yes, we have the statements here in the file from your family physician and also from the specialist. You’ve got a clear case all right, from that angle. Also, there are parish openings right now in Arizona. But, and let me assure you that what I’m going to say now is in no way personal. This is committee feeling. What I say now represents the broadest possible interest of the United Church. I am responsible not only to individual pastors like yourself, but in a greater sense I must consider the health and interests of the whole body of Christ—the entire church, its bishops, its laity, its wholeness.”

Brewster felt his mouth and throat growing chalk dry. He wondered if his face was as pale as it felt.

Carson continued: “This office was established not only as a central file and reference on all United Church clergy and lay persons employed in the 51 states but to give assistance to the busy bishops when faced with such transfer requests as your own. Actually, even when a bishop asks for a man in another diocese this office must give approval, though it seldom withholds it. However, a petition from a pastor is another thing.”

He recited this as if he had done it many times, Brewster thought.

“Here is your record, from the date of your ordination, until now. You were originally Congregational, weren’t your Or was it Baptist, or Disciple?”

“Congregational,” Brewster replied weakly.

“Oh, yes, I remember. And fortunately, too. For in averaging up and arriving at your Co-operation Quotient, or CQ, we give five extra points for men of your background. They find it harder to fit in than men from Methodist or Episcopal traditions. It’s only fair. The old so-called “free church” men are given this advantage. Otherwise your CQ would be 59 instead of 64. And as you know from your United Church Manual of Procedures and Practices it requires a CQ of at least 70 for automatic transfer approval without appeal.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I’m here today.”

“Six points is close, yet a bit distant for a bishop out in Arizona to swallow without a good covering reason. Let’s look at your record and see how we can help. There is a chance, but cold print is cold indeed to a regional or diocesian personnel committee.”

Brewster closed his eyes while Carson scanned the papers.

“Mr. Brewster, I’ll start with just a few minor reasons for these 36 negative points. You don’t use the national weekly church bulletin service. You have never mailed in the required weekly bulletins to your bishop. Innocent enough, but it may cover up weak sermon titles or poor programming. Your attendance at diocesan meetings is spotty; your wife’s record here is almost nil.”

“But for many years she worked to send the children to college. She couldn’t go.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Brewster. These are minor points but they do add up. More serious, you have had three critical letters in the United Church Togetherness Magazine within the past 15 years, all questioning national Synod decisions. Also, five such letters, never published by our editors, are here in this file.” Brewster remembered those letters bitterly. His wife had suggested he write them and then burn them. Instead, he dropped them in the mailbox.

“But I was younger then.”

“No, you wouldn’t write them now. Many men say this. But we have found that personality traits find new ways of expression, ways more subtle but just as damaging to unity and harmony.”

Carson lowered his voice, but the tone of authority remained. “Perhaps vour most serious handicap, Mr. Brewster, is the continued failure of your last two churches to accept or measure up to the suggested annual Upstep Stewardship Quota. When, as a matter of record, both churches sent far more than their required quotas to mission causes of their own choosing, indicated that they and you knew better than the whole Church about mission needs. Last year, for example, your church sent only 5,000 through Church channels and over 20,000 to your own pet projects.”

“But they were all projects already approved by the Church.”

“That’s not the point, Mr. Brewster.

I think you know the policy—all mission funds through channels. For your own sake I do wish you had realized this years ago. A bishop finds this breach of policy most difficult to understand in a man seeking placement in his diocese.”

Brewster remained silent. Carson continued: “I’ve never been a pastor. I came straight to an area personnel staff right after my doctorate. But I cannot understand men who go off on tangents in such an important matter as this. We can cover up some things, but a black and white record like this of dollars and cents is hard to explain or gloss over.”

Brewster moistened his lips and forced his throat to obedience. “But our work with the young people, my service on community projects, our growth in a section that’s largely non-Protestant. Don’t these count?”

“Indeed they do. And considerable. All the positive indices are in your 64 per cent CQ. But it’s the 34 we’re dealing with now, Mr. Brewster. And your age. How old are you? Oh, yes, 63 I see here. Same age as my father.”

Carson seemed strangely silent for a moment. Then resumed.

“I’ll be frank, Mr. Brewster. We’ve somehow got to promise the Arizona people that the things back of these 34 points won’t happen again. If we could obtain a simple statement from you, in writing, that you hope and plan to take full part, complete participation, in diocesan, area, and Church program then our committee could affect this transfer. Without it … Well, I can’t promise.” Brewster continued silent, lost in thought. Carson went on: “What the Arizona bishop will do is something else. He needs men, so my guess is he’ll take you.”

Brewster still said nothing. His mind went back to his ordination in a Vermont village church 38 years before and the words of his conference minister, “Follow the light …” He had tried.

He remembered their happy first years in their first parsonage—just he and Anna, then Dawn, then Bob, then Louis, then Elaine. Nine years they had remained, with parish resources, church attendance, and respect and love between pastor and people increasing each year. These were the happy years. This village, this white church, the bell pealing its clear invitation each Sabbath. None of the larger churches or communities had really been home to them since.

“Mr. Brewster, is something wrong? Do you feel ill?”

Brewster shook his head to clear out the memories. “No, I was just thinking.”

“I tell you what … I am sure this can go through, but I simply must be at a committee meeting downstairs in three minutes. Could you wait in the building, say, in the library, and return at four?”

“I guess I could.”

“And while I think of it, one suggestion. Don’t try direct contact. Work through channels. It’s best for all concerned. You obtained the last two churches on your own. This, too, is a trait bishops find hard to forget. But I must run. See you at four?”

Brewster nodded woodenly.

GRAHAM R. HODGES

Pastor

Emmanuel Congregational Church

Watertown, New York

Sheltered Life

After a hard day spent painting a picture window in my basem*nt shelter, I dropped in on Pastor Peterson. I wanted to end our falling out on the issue of shelter ethics.

“Come in, Eutychus,” he called. “Any casualties yet in defending your cellar?” I ignored this. “I thought we might bury our differences,” I began.

“And not our neighbors,” he said. “Did you hear about the new book on shelter etiquette? Suppose you are entertaining when the bombs hit. Do you know the polite way to withdraw to your shelter and dismiss your guests into the fallout?” I was relieved when the doorbell rang. But Miles Underwood entered. I knew he had been active in Vernal Vistas, the cemetery association, but I hadn’t heard of his new connection. It was with Conrad Helter, a construction company specializing in the conversion of swimming pools into split-level shelters.

“I’ve just been talking to Dr. Eugene Ivy in Deepwell Heights,” said Miles. “The crypt at All Souls is magnificent. With air-conditioning it will make a fine shelter. I have suggested a promotion for expenses—a series of Cryptograms stressing the survival potential of All Souls.” Peterson glanced at me. “What steps will All Souls take to secure the crypt against Presbyterians or Methodists in the event of an attack?” he asked.

Miles smiled. “There can be no panic in a community saturated with Helter Shelters. Each can survive in the church of his choice.”

The pastor abruptly proposed a “Shelter Text”—Isaiah 26:20: “Come, my people, enter thou into thy chambers, and shut thy doors about thee: hide thyself as it were for a little moment, until the indignation be overpast.”

He added that a shelter from wrath and destruction is a biblical figure for God’s salvation. But God’s shelter is a city founded on the rock, and the survivors are not cowering in caves but feasting on the mount of God. Church basem*nts may have new appeal, but church pulpits need the old appeal. Death has new forms, but one Conqueror. Not catacombs but Christ saves his church.

EUTYCHUS

The New Birth

[The title of] Dr. Frank Stanger’s article, “The Way into the Kingdom” (Oct. 13 issue) … promises more than it fulfills. Indeed, something less than the Gospel of grace is given to readers when the author is content to show the importance and necessity of the new birth (based on John 3:3), but neglects to show its sheer impossibility as a human achievement (as seen in John 3:5–12), and utterly fails to give the answer which Jesus Christ gives (as in w. 12–15).…

Like much contemporary evangelism, the new birth is construed as a condition which must be met on the part of man rather than a gift that is to be received from God. At bottom this is to put the Gospel on a reward/punishment basis and it becomes only another refined form of self-justification. This individualistic and conditional way into the Kingdom misses altogether the Pauline conception of substitution and incorporation as reflected in his letter to the Romans.

ROBERT K. MERRITT

Bethel Presbyterian Church

Wichita, Kan.

Cathedral Pinnacle

Professor Ingles has given a concise treatment of the religious significance of T. S. Eliot’s poetry (Oct. 13 issue); … perhaps the fullest and clearest expression of Eliot’s “Christian Elements” is found in Murder in the Cathedral.…

PETER B. STEESE

English Dept.

Pennsylvania State University

University Park, Pa.

Boy Scouts Overtaken

Although several of your readers (Eutychus, Oct. 13 issue) took issue with the first sentence in your report “Wisconsin Lutherans Break With Missouri Synod,” permit me to assure you that many of us in the Missouri Synod sadly admit that you reported correctly when you stated that “Creeping liberalism within the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod constituency was dealt a dramatic rebuke …” when the Wisconsin Synod suspended fellowship.

As I understand it, the major issue between our Missouri Synod and its sister synods is no longer Boy Scouts or army chaplains but the doctrine of Holy Scripture itself. Both the Wisconsin and Norwegian Synods have protested against a statement on the Bible recently adopted by the Concordia Seminary faculty in St. Louis. Pastors and professors in the Missouri Synod are now permitted to deny the real inerrancy of the Bible and to teach such destructive higher critical views that Moses did not write the Pentateuch.

AUGUST KORFF

New Haven, Mo.

Shortages

The statement of Robert Ericson (Eutychus, Oct. 13 issue) to the effect that belief in the virgin birth of Jesus Christ “is not absolutely essential to a positive Christian faith” is reminiscent of this story.

An inmate of an insane institution who had heard of the scarcity of food and the practice of planting gardens by the wayside was found digging at the foundation of one of the buildings. When asked his reason, he replied, “To produce food.”

“If you tear out the foundation, where will you live?” asked the enquirer.

“Oh,” said he, “I’ll live upstairs.”

PASCAL BELEW

Hoopeston, Ill.

Ericson errs.… He bewails the “attack” on Bishop Oxnam, unaware of the fact that the esteemed bishop was an A-1 “attacker” himself.…

Secondly, … when will intelligent Christians understand that no miracle will satisfy a scientist? If it did, it wouldn’t be a “miracle”.… You would not have a faith, but a science.… This conservative, retired 77 year-old Methodist minister is no obscurantist.…

PAUL L. GROVE

Minneapolis, Minn.

For many years it has been my great privilege to bring that wondrous message of God’s love as revealed in his Word to many thousands of Africans in almost every part of the Congo.… Many willingly gave up their idols, burned their fetishes, and were delivered from their fears.

Now back in these United States one finds that there are some “Bible scholars” and “Bible teachers” who vigorously criticize this great revelation of God and cast doubt upon its authority.… Thank you, Dr. Wilbur Smith, for your splendid article “The Holy Bible, ‘Verdun’ of Triumphant Christianity” (Aug. 28 issue).

HARRY M. PUNT

Vincennes, Ind.

Shakespeare’S Testament

The article titled “Shakespeare and Christianity” (Sept. 25 issue), is very interesting. In regard to the question of whether William Shakespeare was a Christian, I find it difficult to understand how the author … could have overlooked one rather important piece of evidence, namely the man’s personal testimony, expressed so clearly in the opening sentences of his will:

“In the name of god Amen I William Shackspeare of Stratford upon Avon in the countie of warr gent in perfect health and memorie god be praysed doe make and Ordayne this my last will & testament in manner & forme following That is to saye First I Commend my Soule into the handes of god my Creator hoping and assuredlie believing through thonlie merites of Jesus Christ my Saviour to be made partaker of lyfe everlastinge. And my bodye to the Earth whereof yt ys made.…”

S. R. LOIZEAUX

Redlands, Calif.

Not only do the works of Shakespeare contain the basis of a most comprehensive system of Christian doctrine (and this although he was born only 28 years after Tyndale was martyred for making the New Testament available in English), but the very point of his most impressive dramas is to emphasize some of the teachings of Christ which those of us who glibly accept Christianity often ignore.

HUBERT V. LITTLE

Baptist Manse

Shaftesbury, Dorset, England

I confidently look forward to meeting the Bard of Avon when the Lord calls me home where the entire host of the redeemed rejoice in the marvelous grace of our loving Lord.…

ROBERT E. MILLARD

Portland, Ore.

For Divine Deportation

In your article on “The Christian Witness in Israel” (Aug. 28 issue) you referred to the Messianic Assembly of Israel.… Brother Kofsmann was “Pentecostal” before coming to Israel. He is no longer “Pentecostal.” In Israel, and especially in the Messianic Assembly, all denominational-belonging is shed. We do not wish the blight of denominationalism to disturb the harmony and unity of Jewish believers in Israel. Here we are Messianic Jews minus the identifications of “Anglican,” “Baptist,” “Pentecostal,” “Presbyterian,” and the like.…

The missionaries … seek not only to evangelize and Christianize but also de-Judaize. They place Judaism on the same level as paganism, and are not satisfied or content with a believing Jew until he eats pork or does some other thing in contravention of the Law of Moses. They are not interested in free and independent Messianic Congregations in Israel. They are a disturbing element not only in an ethnic-national way but also in a spiritual.… The state and rabbinic leaders of Israel are not the only ones wishing the missionaries to “leave us alone.” Many of us Messianic Jews fervently pray that God may send them back home, and would support a state law prohibiting what Christians call “missionary work.”

M. I. BEN-MAEIR

Haifa, Israel

Rejoinders To Rejoinders

I take exception to unwarranted charges such as those expressed in the letter by Edwin Vrell (Sept. 25 issue).… He cites Roberts, Allen, and Osborne as little dictators whose position is quite untenable in the light of I Corinthians. That’s like judging every Baptist by Norris, every Presbyterian by McIntyre and every Methodist by Oxnam.…

He says, “Very few Pentecostals are Christians away from the mass meeting.” This constitutes an unwarranted attack against tens of thousands of Spirit-filled believers who have never thought of questioning the absolute authority of the Scriptures, the Lordship of Jesus Christ, and scores of other truths assailed by churchmen today.…

DANIEL E. JOHNSON

Pleasant Valley Assembly

Wichita, Kan.

Mr. Vrell in speaking of the Holy Spirit asks, “Can you imagine, asking for a gift???” The Scripture certainly admonishes us to ask—“Ask and it shall be given you.” Jesus said, “How much more shall your heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to them that ask him?”

Mr. Vrell’s sarcasm toward the Pentecostal movement causes me to wonder if he has not had some unpleasant experiences on the fringes … and is judging the entire movement accordingly.…

I am convinced that … there is a love for God, for the Lord Jesus Christ, and for the Holy Spirit that I have not seen excelled in any other movement.

TALMADGE F. MCNABB

Chaplain

Chaplain’s School, U.S. Army

Ft. Slocum, N. Y.

If Pastor Huth (Eutychus, Oct. 13 issue) will consult Luther’s sermon on the first Sunday after Trinity, 1522, he will readily see that the Reformer regarded prayers for the departed as an open question.

A. C. M. AHLEN

Dean and Prof. of Philosophy

Northwestern Lutheran Seminary

Minneapolis, Minn.

Summons For Undertaker

One tip of the hat to Dr. Dale Moody (“Hoax or Heresy,” News, Aug. 28 issue) for his courage in standing up to the heretical doctrines of closed communion and alien immersion, both of which should have been buried with Dr. J. R. Graves.

JAMES ROHNE

Louisville, Ky.

Bow Toward Glasgow

In my article on the Church of Scotland in your July 31 issue, a number of the statistical items were formulated by Dr. John Highet of Glasgow University. I inadvertently omitted to mention this fact and would be glad of the opportunity to express now my indebtedness to one who is a leading authority in this field.

JAMES D. DOUGLAS

Cambridge, England

To Amplify A Ministry

If each of the 200,000 Protestant pastors currently active in the United States wins four others to the ministry during his lifetime, there will be 800,000 pastors in the generation to come.

Growth of population calls for some such increase in full-time religious workers. God is always calling people to his ministry. All we need do is offer whatever gifts we have to his discipline and use. We pastors lead others into the pastorate when our own commitment is deepening and growing. Our commitment grows if we are always taking some new step forward: reading the New Testament in Greek, losing weight during the middle years, wrestling through Hegel, taking a hard parish with many churches and through physical, moral, and spiritual effort bringing it out of the doldrums, reflecting daily on the perennial perplexities of theology, having a conception and experience of the “divine” which is unchanging but in flux, to mention only a few avenues of a growing pastoral commitment.…

Our ministry is sterile if we are not the means whereby at least four other persons, during our lifetime, enter upon the dramatic road of total Christian commitment.

HENRY RATLIFF

First Methodist Church

Great Barrington, Mass.

Library Ministry

Many librarians will be very co-operative in aiding the public by taking suggestions from ministers about recommended books.… It has occurred to me that the outreach of the Church of Christ could extend to placing in the public libraries … such works as Bible encyclopedias and Bible dictionaries. These could be donated at the expense of the church if the funds of the library are too limited.…

DONALD A. LAM

St. Thomas Reformed Church

St. Thomas, Virgin Islands

• Many ministers are also discovering that the local library will include CHRISTIANITY TODAY among its religious peridicals when suggested, because of the demand for it among library users.—ED.

Church and synagogue membership in America reached a record high of 114,449,217 in 1960, but barely kept pace with the population increase.

The increase as shown in the 1962 Yearbook of American Churches, published this month, amounted to 2,222,312 members or 1.9 per cent over the 1959 figures. The overall U. S. population increase for that period was 1.8 per cent.

The Yearbook figures are based on reports from 259 religious bodies in 50 states and the District of Columbia. The book is edited by Benson Y. Landis and published by the National Council of Churches.

In 1959 the membership increase was 2.4 per cent, and the 1958 gain was 5 per cent while the population increases for both years was about 1.8 per cent.

Last year, 63.6 per cent of an estimated national population of about 180,000,000 belonged to a church or synagogue.

Of the major religious groups, both Protestant and Roman Catholics reported gains in membership while Jewish and Eastern Orthodox membership fell off.

Total Protestant membership in 227 bodies was 63,668,835 or a gain of 1.8 per cent over the 1959 membership. Roman Catholic membership increased 3.2 per cent for a total of 42,104,900. (The figures do not represent an accurate comparison of relative strength, however, because the Roman Catholic statistics include baptized children while most Protestant bodies do not bestow church membership until persons reach their teens.)

Jewish membership fell off 133,000 for a 1960 total of 5,367,000. Eastern Orthodox churches reported 2,698,663 members, a decrease of 108,949 from 1959.

The Yearbook measures the growth of U.S. Protestantism in a table which shows that Protestants made up 27 per cent of the total population in 1926; 33.8 per cent in 1950; and 35.4 per cent in 1960. In the same period, the Roman Catholic population increased from 16 per cent in 1926 to 23.6 per cent in 1960.

Overall statistics in the Yearbook show that the proportion of church members to the total population has almost doubled in the first 60 years of this century—from 36 per cent in 1900 to 63.6 per cent in 1960.

Perhaps the most surprising aspect of the newly-released statistics is that they show a slight drop in Protestant Sunday school enrollment. The total for 1960 was given as 40,241,650, compared with 40,349,972 a year earlier. Protestant churches reported 93.1 per cent of the total enrollment of 43,231,018. In all religious bodies reported in 1960 there were 283,885 Sunday or Sabbath schools with 3,637,982 teachers and officers.

Protestant Denominational Totals

The 1962 Yearbook of American Churches indicates that about 90 per cent of all Protestant church members in America are found in 22 denominational groups or families.

Relative strengths of family groups are quite stable. In 1960 there were 28 Baptist bodies with an inclusive membership of 21,148,862. Next were Methodists (21 bodies) with 12,424,623, Lutherans (15 bodies) with 8,080,867, and Presbyterians (10 bodies) with 4,333,249.

A comparison of the 1960 figures with those of 1959 shows that The Methodist Church is still the largest among Protestant denominations in America. The Protestant Episcopal Church pushed the United Presbyterian Church out of fourth place while the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod climbed into seventh place ahead of the United Lutheran Church of America. The newly-organized American Lutheran Church appeared in the listing for the first time. The top 10 U. S. denominations:

In 1960 for the first time the 34 member bodies of the National Council of Churches showed a total membership of more than 40 million. Their combined membership was reported as 40,185,813 or about 63 per cent of all U.S. Protestant church members.

Roman Catholic Totals

Roman Catholicism added about 13 million persons in the year ended June 30, according to a news release distributed this month by the Bureau of Information of the National Catholic Welfare Conference in Washington, D. C.

The release said the increase “was at about the same rate as that of the world population.”

Thus Roman Catholicism continues to claim 18.3 per cent of the world population (now estimated at slightly above 3 billion), or about 550 million persons.

Only the Roman Catholic population of Brazil and Italy exceeds that in the United States: U. S., 42,104,900, 22.9 per cent; Brazil, 62,734,533, 93.5 per cent; Italy, 48,782,515, 99.5 per cent.

A spokesman for the Bureau of Information said the bulk of the data was obtained from a map issued by the Catholic Students’ Crusade of Cincinnati. A number of reference works were utilized in the compilation.

Of a total of 99 million persons in the Soviet satellite countries, some 46 million are Roman Catholic, the crusade reported. Biggest concentration is in Poland, where 95 per cent of the 30 million population are included in the statistics of the Vatican-ruled church.

In both Hungary and Czechoslovakia, about three out of five persons are said to be Roman Catholic.

In Soviet Russia itself the percentage is reported to be much smaller (approximately 10 million out of approximately 215 million).

In addition to Brazil, Italy, and Poland, the church claims more than ninetenths of the population in the following major countries: Mexico (94.4), Colombia (97.4), Peru (95.7), Spain (99.7), and Belgium (95.5).

Other heavily Catholic countries are Austria (89.8), Portugal (89.6), and Ireland (94).

Among regions and continents, Central and South America are by far the most predominantly Roman Catholic: Central America, 45,023,000 or 94 per cent; South America, 132,396,000, or 92.3 per cent.

Protestant Panorama

• Evangelicals in the Anglican communion are forming a world-wide fellowship—“not partisan in any narrow or negative sense, but positive and ironical”—under the presidency of the Most Rev. H. R. Gough, Primate of Australia. Sponsors hoped to hold the first informal meeting during the World Council of Churches assembly in New Delhi this month.

• Soviet authorities have taken over and closed the Agenskalna Baptist Church in the capital city of Riga, Latvia, according to a report in the Baptist World. Only three Baptist churches out of eight in Riga remain open, the report said.

• Some 8,000 Koreans made professions of faith during an evangelistic mission conducted this fall by 13 American Methodists. The mission was directed by Dr. Harry Denman, director of the Methodist General Board of Evangelism.

• Representatives of 11 missionary societies from four countries met for two days in Kobe last month and came up with a “declaration of intent” to organize a united Lutheran church in Japan. Plans were approved to hold a constituting convention next October 31—Reformation Day, with the formal merger to take effect in January of 1963. The new church, expected to consolidate five missions from the United States, three from Norway, two from Denmark, and one from Finland, will consist of some 10,000 members in 200 congregations and preaching places served by 100 Japanese pastors and 100 missionaries.

• Decision, monthly publication of the Billy Graham Evangelistic Association topped the 1,000,000 mark in circulation with its November issue. Meanwhile, the evangelist’s eight-night television crusade was reported to have produced the biggest mail response that association offices in Minneapolis have ever handled.

• The Lutheran Foundation for Religious Drama will sponsor December performances of “A Cradle of Willow,” a Nativity play by English playwright Dorothy Wright.

• Government should not “use the churches” to promote political programs and ideologies, says a statement from the Baptist Joint Committee on Public Affairs. The statement was adopted at a semi-annual session of the committee in Washington last month.

• The first Protestant church built in Israel since its establishment as a state in 1948 was dedicated last month in Nazareth. It will house a congregation of the Church of the Nazarene. Officiating at the dedication was Dr. Hardy C. Powers of Dallas, Texas, a general superintendent of the Church of the Nazarene. The new church seats about 200.

• White Temple Methodist Church of Miami received Guideposts magazine’s annual Church Award for its three-year-old program of spiritual and material aid to Cuban refugees.

• Central Baptist Theological Seminary of Kansas City, Kansas, is recipient of a bequest valued at some $260,000 from the estate of the late Leo Kull of Topeka. Kull’s will provides for a 20-year trust with a monthly income to the seminary. A nursing home eventually will be deeded to the seminary as well.

• “Two Offerings,” a sermon by Thomas B. Peake, Jr., of Dallas, Texas, won first place in the 1960–61 Stewardship Sermon Contest sponsored by Unified Promotion of the Christian Churches (Disciples of Christ). The sermon was given from the pulpit of Dallas’ Highlands Christian Church.

• The Evangelical Alliance Mission plans to begin operation of a new radio station in Lima, Peru.

• Canadian Bible College of Regina, Saskatchewan, affiliated with the Christian and Missionary Alliance, was granted accreditation last month by the Accrediting Association of Bible Colleges at the group’s 15th annual meeting in Chicago. Admitted to associate membership were Kentucky Christian College of Grayson, Kentucky, and Southern Pilgrim College of Kernersville, North Carolina.

Lutheran Ecumenicity

A new “Lutheran inter-church agency for common theological study and Christian service” was proposed this month.

The new agency, embracing 8,000,000 or more U. S. Lutherans, would replace the present National Lutheran Council and would include the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, which cooperates in certain phases of NLC work but which has steadfastly refused to become a member.

As late as February, 1959, the Missouri Synod had turned down a membership bid from the NLC. Missouri Synod President John W. Behnken at that time said there was a “state of flux” in the doctrinal positions of NLC churches and called attention to the work of the Lutheran Synodical Conference of North America toward “greater Scriptural harmony in doctrine and practice.”

Three months ago, however, the back of the Synodical Conference was broken when the Wisconsin Evangelical Lutheran Synod, charging liberalism, severed relations with the Missouri Synod. The two churches had been the conference’s two principal members.

The move for a new agency was announced in the following statement released by representatives described therein:

“The third of a series of consultations between representatives of the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod and the National Lutheran Council regarding the issue of Lutheran cooperation was held at the Lake Shore Club of Chicago, October 31–November 1, 1961. This meeting was the final one of a series of three held during 1960–61. The earlier conversations centered around the subject ‘Doctrine of the Gospel’ and ‘The Significance of Confessional Subscription.’

“Papers prepared by Dr. Martin Franzmann of Concordia Seminary, St. Louis, Mo., and Dr. Alvin Rogness, president of Luther Seminary, St. Paul, Minnesota, on the subject ‘What Kind of Cooperation is Possible in View of Discussion to Date?’ were read and discussed by the participants of whom 14 represented the Lutheran Church-Missouri Synod, and 18 represented the National Lutheran Council.

“It was the unanimous judgment of the participants that the papers and discussions revealed a consensus on the doctrine of the Gospel and the meaning of confessional subscription sufficient to justify further exploration regarding the possible establishment of a new cooperative Lutheran agency to replace the National Lutheran Council. The successor agency would have as one of its major functions the continuing of theological study with the objective of achieving ever greater unity.

“The representatives of the two groups are to take appropriate steps whereby resolutions will he submitted to the next conventions of the churches involved which would authorize negotiations looking toward a possible future cooperative association of Lutheran churches in America. If the proposal is approved by the churches involved all Lutheran church bodies in the United States will be invited to participate in planning and formation of the new association, which would serve as a Lutheran inter-church agency for common theological study and Christian service.”

Boycott Of Television?

A Lutheran editor proposes a “great American TV strike” as a protest against the quality of television programs.

“Turn the thing off and leave it off until the networks can come up with a new plan,” Dr. G. Elson Ruff, editor of The Lutheran, said in an editorial published in the November 8 issue of the weekly news magazine of the United Lutheran Church in America.

Ruff was commenting on two articles dealing with television which appeared in the magazine.

The only way to “rescue” TV, he said, is to “take it away from advertisers and give it to the authors.”

He asserted that “TV at present is at least 50 per cent a device of businessmen to push the sale of cereals, detergents, cathartics.”

“They are cooperating in a deceptive racket,” he charged.

In an article tided “Save Our Children from TV,” Mrs. Eleanor D. Mora, a church school teacher from Marlton, New Jersey, said television “may be extremely harmful to the spiritual growth of our Christian families.”

Dr. Robert E. Huldschiner, assistant editor of the magazine, came to the defense of the medium in a “memo to a frustrated church school teacher.”

Huldschiner is also a writer of TV scripts.

He argued that there is a “lot of good in TV” and that there would have been more if many of the best writers had not left TV after the first few years.

“One of the reasons why they did,” he said, “is because so many well-meaning people courtmartialed TV after a brief hearing and placed it out of bounds for the educated and discerning audience.”

‘In God We Trust’

Beginning next month, all new U. S. one-dollar bills will bear the words “In God We Trust.” Congress voted that the motto be applied to currency some six years ago, but old engravings have continued in use. Bills of all denominations eventually will carry the motto.

Historic Churches

Two more American colonial churches are being added to the Registry of National Landmarks by the U. S. Department of the Interior.

Holy Trinity (Old Swedes) Church of Wilmington, Delaware, and the Dutch Reformed (Sleepy Hollow) Church of North Tarrytown, New York, were given the distinction in an announcement made this month by Secretary of the Interior Stewart L. Udall.

The Old Swedes Church, according to Udall, was erected in 1698 and is “the oldest surviving Delaware Valley Swedish Church.”

“No other structure so closely related to Swedish settlement contains such architectural integrity,” he said.

The Sleepy Hollow church was hailed as a “distinguished relic of Dutch America.” Architects believe it was erected about 1690. A new church was built as an extension of the first about 1840, and since then the old church has been used only on infrequent occasions for worship services. It has, however, been maintained in good condition. In its adjacent burial ground lies the famous author, Washington Irving, who wrote “The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.”

Each new historical site is identified with a marker from the National Park Service, but the buildings continue to be maintained by their owners without cost to the government.

A Family Plea

President Kennedy’s Thanksgiving proclamation called upon Americans to observe the day “with reverence and with prayer that will rekindle in us the will and show us the way not only to preserve our blessings, but also to extend them to the four corners of the earth.”

“I ask the head of each family,” he said, “to recount to his children the story of the first New England Thanksgiving, thus to impress upon future generations the heritage of this nation born in toil, in danger, in purpose, and in the conviction that right and justice and freedom can through man’s efforts persevere and come to fruition with the blessing of God.”

Mennonites And Society

Mennonites are doing an about-face in their relationships with society, according to a report from their General Conference News Service.

The report was one of several covering a four-day fall “Study Conference on the Church and Society” held in Chicago and attended by Mennonite leaders from the United States and Canada.

“The last generation has turned up new facts about Anabaptist-Mennonite history,” the report said. “The original roots of this Reformation group lie imbedded not in withdrawal but in a bold witness to society. This boldness came from a simple acceptance of biblical imperatives.”

The report noted how Mennonite history has been marked by continual moves in search of isolation, but added that the Mennonite church is now “facing the world that it once regarded as evil to the point of hopelessness.”

Among topics discussed at the Chicago conference: international relations, civil defense, labor-management, race, church-state, capital punishment, alcohol, urbanization, and agriculture.

Canadian Evangelism

In Halifax, Nova Scotia, a crowd of 10,000, said to have been the largest Protestant gathering in the city’s 212-year history, witnessed the closing service November 3 of a three-week “Mission in Evangelism” by the Rev. Tom Allan.

Allan, minister of St. George’s-Tron (Presbyterian) Church in Glasgow, Scotland, has now held a number of successful evangelistic crusades in Canada. His ministry is highly esteemed among Canadian evangelicals of many denominations.

Allan met area ministers in a week-long “School of Evangelism,” appeared before 5,000 public school children and teachers, conducted a campus mission at Dalhousie University, and preached at noon-day meetings in St. Paul’s Anglican Church, oldest Protestant church in Canada.

Thirteen evening meetings were held at the Halifax Forum, with 770 recorded decisions for Christ. Sunday services were broadcast over a local station as well as through a short-wave outlet. One was telecast throughout the province.

General chairman of the Halifax mission was the Rev. Ronald C. MacCormack, a Baptist pastor.

Social Welfare And The Churches

The National Council of Churches held its second National Conference on Social Welfare in Cleveland, October 23–27. More than 2500 delegates and 600 social welfare specialists from 40 major Protestant and Eastern Orthodox communions grappled with the momentous problems of the handicapped and unemployed, the blind and ill, and those incapacitated by narcotics, alcoholism, and injury. The parley sought to implement goals and policies growing out of the first conference in 1955 and the policies formulated at a strategy conference in Atlantic City in 1957. Yet throughout the week-long discussions it was evident that progress was hampered by the divergencies of basic positions held by the delegates regarding the ways, means, goals, and purposes of welfare service.

The parley was consistently concerned with the welfare needs of all members of the civil community. There was no desire to serve only its own membership, or to first determine whether the man in need were a brother in Christ. The conference was moved by a Christian compassion to visit the sick, feed the hungry, and clothe the naked of whatever creed, color or race.

The parley also appeared to be governed by the consensus that the Church is obliged to serve men in need and thus administer to them the mercy of Christ.

It was widely held that the diakonia—the service rendered by the traditional deacon—belongs to the very heart of the Church’s task. What, it was asked, would the Church be if the hearts of its members were not stabbed by the pain of the neighbor’s need?

Yet this very Christian concern for all men in need, and the awareness of the obligation to reveal the suffering servant form of her Lord in social concern, constantly threatened in the floor discussions to thin into something more shadow than substance.

A substantial number of voices urged that when governmental or other secular agencies could equal or better the Church’s concern and provision for the needy, the Church should turn the service over to them and concern itself with other areas of social need. The feeling was that the obligation to feed the hungry and clothe the naked rests upon the State rather than upon the Church, the Church being obliged to do so only in an emergency situation in which government lags behind its duty. According to this view, if the community and State did its whole duty, the Church could be freed of a duty which really did not belong to it.

Other voices—again not in the majority, but of sufficient number to be disturbing—asserted that the Christian’s act of social service carries no distinctive quality that renders its service better or more desirable than acts of such service accomplished by secular or governmental agencies. Social service rendered by the Church had no “plus value.” And other floor voices contended that the Church’s social welfare action need not be employed as a witness to the redemption that God has accomplished in Christ.

The willingness to hand the task of social service to the secular or governmental agency, the denial of any “plus value,” and the willingness to sever Christian social action from the Church’s redemptive concern, are all ideas which stem from an obliteration of the difference between Church and world.

While these floor voices which seemed to threaten the dissipation of the distinctive character and purpose of Christian social service seemed not to be in the majority—and were indeed often strongly rejected—yet it is significant that the verbalized formulations of the expressions of the delegates often echoed those sentiments heard on the floor.

The Section on Government and Social Welfare declared that the American people enjoy the special asset of having “a form of government which is designed to be an instrument of the community to promote the general welfare.” The draft also asserted, “We believe that the American people should make full use of their government in meeting welfare needs.” Government was described as “one of the instrumentalities which the community may use to discharge its responsibilities for meeting all the welfare needs of all the people.” This same report stated, “The provision for social welfare is the responsiblity of the total community functioning through the channels of government.” Thus what seemed to be the minority view is the view presented in the written formulation to be sent to the churches for further study. Whether the various churches of the National Council are willing to buy the idea that Americans should make full use of the government—even where no large scale emergency exists—in meeting welfare needs; whether they are willing to buy the idea that the provision for social welfare is the responsibility of the whole community “functioning through the channels of government,” remains to be seen.

The presuppositions, discussions, and tentative conclusions of the conference suffered from blurred ambiguities stemming from the failure of the delegates to make clean-cut, recognizable distinctions between Church and community, Christian and non-Christian. The result was a lack of clarity and the unhappy situation where a Christian observer feels obliged to both agree and disagree with so many of the conference’s significant utterances.

Meeting at a time when the country was discussing as never before the need for fallout shelters, the Cleveland conference was strangely silent on the problem.

Many observers felt that such social welfare conferences are surely needed. Equally needed, they felt, is an admixture of hard-headed leadership and clean-cut thinking with the traditional American’s compassion for the needy.

J. D.

Church Shelters

A suburban Denver church is being designed to double as a community fallout shelter, first such in the nation. Two underground levels of the Green Mountain Christian Church will accommodate 800 persons for a two-week period.

Civil defense officials in Washington say every U. S. church eventually will be inspected to determine its suitability as a shelter.

The Latin Protestants

There are now at least 3,441,415 baptized Protestant church members in Latin America, according to a new reference work published by the Evangelical Foreign Missions Association.

The figure still represents a small minority in the Latin American population, estimated at some 190,000,000. It is a conservative figure, however, inasmuch as data compilers were unable to secure statistics from a number of independent groups. Even so, it represents an eightfold growth over the 1937 figure of 422,395.

The new reference work, Protestant Missions in Latin America, consists of a 314-page cloth-bound book and 30 maps, each measuring 28 by 36 inches. It is the most comprehensive survey of Protestant impact in Latin America ever produced. Editors are Dr. Clyde W. Taylor and the Rev. Wade T. Coggins.

Among agencies which assisted in the collection of data were the Interdenominational Foreign Mission Association, the Committee on Cooperation in Latin America, and the Evangelical Missions Association (England).

Scholarly Conservatism

A five-day conference in Cordoba marked the first time in Argentine history that Protestant leaders of conservative and liberal persuasion had ever assembled together for joint prayer and study.

On hand for the September 25–29 conference were 450 pastors, lay leaders, and missionaries from 20 denominations in Argentina and Uruguay. It was organized by the Federation of Christian Churches of Argentina and held under auspices of World Vision. Speakers included World Vision President Bob Pierce, Dr. Bernard Ramm, and Dr. Paul Rees.

The Latin Americans took special note of Ramm’s unusual ability to present profound theological terms in simple terms, well illustrated and seasoned with humor. Conservatives as well as liberals expressed appreciation for his thorough understanding of ancient and modern theology.

Such scholars as Ramm, who is well-known in the United States as a leader of evangelical thought, are still obscure in Latin America. Union seminaries and publishing houses related to the Committee on Cooperation in Latin America have presented the liberal theological viewpoint in thorough, scholarly terms. Serious evangelical books, on the other hand, are practically unknown. Even some of the leading evangelical works have not yet been translated. The void has resulted in the conservative position being associated with theological obscurantism.

Using The Church

The ruling Convention People’s Party of Ghana is setting up party branches in all churches, as well as in industrial and cultural organizations, cooperative farms, and factories.

The CPP paper Evening News declared that formation of party branches in churches “would help chase away unnecessary suspicions, promote peace and happiness in Ghana and forever stabilize the churches with their music and sense of mission as an important wing in Ghana’s move to create work and happiness for all.”

As unfavorable reaction became apparent, the party’s official organ hastened to assure the public that the CPP had no intention of interfering with the religious life of any church.

“The party needs the friendship of the churches in the great national task of furthering Nkrumaism,” an editorial stated. It asserted that Nkrumaism is “a beautiful and impressive comradeship that is almost biblical, expressing the unity of man in a society that knows no class or creed.”

Establishing Dates

An archaeological expert in Israel claims that 64 first-century documents unearthed last winter constitute the greatest find of that type since the discovery of the Dead Sea Scrolls.

Yigael Yadin, professor of archaeology at Herbrew University of Jerusalem, said in a press conference that the primary importance of the find is that the documents “are absolutely dated—many of them triple-dated with the year, month, and day.”

The Last To Leave

The Dutch Reformed Church of the Cape Province decided by an overwhelming majority at its synod meeting this month to withdraw from membership in the World Council of Churches.

The decision came in the wake of earlier synod action repudiating the findings of a WCC-sponsored conference in Johannesburg last December which criticized the apartheid (racial segregation) policies of South Africa.

All direct links between the South African Reformed churches and the WCC have now been severed, two other bodies having already withdrawn their memberships.

The recurring debate over mass evangelism always raises questions about financial policies, emotionalism, sensationalism, follow-up procedures, public invitations, and other techniques. Though important, these tactical concerns are far less significant than the basic strategic issue: Does mass evangelism have a legitimate and an effective place in the overall evangelistic strategy of the Church?

Any church or pastor contemplating the support of an evangelistic campaign must face this problem. “Will this pay off?” is one approach. “Does God will it?” is quite another. Surely we must grant that in the work of God’s kingdom not success but obedience is the only valid criterion for action.

Yet the pastor faces a quandary. “I cannot do everything demanded of me. Shall I do this particular thing? Shall I do it now? What spiritual dividends can I rightfully expect from the invested time, money, and effort? Would God’s cause benefit more if we applied our energies at this time in some other direction?”

Like the pastor, the evangelist has his questions also. “Is this work the will of the Lord for me? Or could I more effectively devote myself to some other task?” Such probing involves frequent, agonizing re-appraisal.

What, in truth, are the values of mass evangelism? Actually, an evangelistic crusade helps a church both directly and indirectly. First of all the stir and impact made by the collective effort of Christian churches can break through the spiritual indifference of a community. Reports of great crowds, talk of spiritual things, widespread publicity, the news value of a religious event in the mass media, the power of united prayer, and the hovering of the Spirit of God—all these factors cut a deep swath into apathy. A God-conscious atmosphere may overtake a community, may give local Christians unusual opportunity to talk about the things of Christ with their fellows.

Mass evangelism also highlights the essential unity in Christ of many Christian groups. The beneficial effects of such oneness in purpose cannot he overestimated. Cynical unbelievers who usually scorn divisions among Christians now see such groups standing shoulder to shoulder in efforts to call men to faith in their one Lord. Many Christians, aware of their limited spiritual influence in the neighborhood, or on the job, or through their little church, return from the meetings with a new perspective of the wider fellowship of Christ’s people.

And certainly evangelistic campaigns have their indisputable conversions—some thrilling and exciting, some quiet but just as real. Many “harvested” for Christ through a crusade have been prepared by the more regular ministries of the church.

While such results bring joy they do not, however, meet the fundamental question: “What is our strategy in evangelism, and what place, if any, does mass evangelism play in it?”

Principles of Evangelistic Strategy

Three strategic principles must underlie any program:

1.The evangelization of the world is the goal.

2.The whole Body of Christ is the instrument of evangelism.

3.Convincing and equipping the “layman” to meet his responsibility as soul-winner and witness is the most immediate and urgent task.

Mass evangelism must be evaluated in the context of these principles, not as an isolated episode.

William Temple said that “the evangelization of those without cannot be separated from the rekindling of devotion of those within.” This is where mass evangelism can be uniquely useful.

From a mass evangelistic effort should come four specific results that prepare the entire church constituency, and particularly the “lay” members, to fulfill their strategic role in world evangelism.

Evangelistic Concern

First, such a crusade kindles concern for evangelism. Daily doctrinal preaching of man’s sin and of God’s salvation impresses hearers with the theological convictions that undergird evangelism. Christians are morally quickened and fashioned into effective divine instruments. Participation in informal prayer groups and in the meetings themselves results in renewed devotion. The very act of engaging in evangelistic activity is the surest way of fanning into flame the smouldering spark of evangelistic ardor.

In Dornakal, South India, three-fourths of all Christians annually give up a week’s work and pay to take part in a concentrated time of witness. The effect of this week, according to the late Bishop Azariah of the Church of South India, is greater on the Christians than on the non-Christians, for in the demands of witnessing the Christians are driven to deeper devotion and to greater consistency of life.

In Glasgow, Scotland, a minister had tried several years without success to enlist his people for visitation within their parish. On the last Sunday of the Billy Graham Crusade in 1955, he asked those who had committed themselves to Christ both inwardly and outwardly at the meetings in Kelvin Hall to meet with him the following Tuesday evening to plan evangelistic work in their area. More than 70 responded!

Another result of a united evangelistic crusade is the conversion of persons already identified in some way with the churches. Occasionally one is amazed at the indignant reaction of a minister who discovers some of his “best people” have gone forward to profess conversion or to reaffirm their faith. Is such a man so ignorant of his own soul and that of men in general that he forgets God alone knows the human heart?

An increasing number of churchmen across the theological and denominational spectrum are convinced that “a large number of church people also need to be converted, in the sense of their possessing that personal knowledge of Christ which can be ours only by the dedication of the whole self, whatever the cost” (Towards the Conversion of England, p. 37). Dean Homrighousen of Princeton considers the church the greatest field for evangelism today. E. Stanley Jones maintains that the foremost need is turning “second-hand Christians into first-hand Christians.” Elton Trueblood calls for “conversion within the church.” And Tom Allan warned that “it is idle to speak of the lay apostolate to men and women who have no first-hand knowledge of the meaning of Christian experience.”

New approaches and methods in evangelism are useful and desirable. But the evidence is that it still pleases God by the foolishness of preaching to save those that believe (1 Cor. 1:21). People are converted not by virtue of techniques, but through the preaching of Christ Jesus in the power of the Holy Spirit. In a remarkable way the evangelistic crusade has been used to lead people into conversion.

Mass evangelism yields a third important contribution—the formation of small corps of spiritually-concerned people. It is generally acknowledged that a serious need in the church structure is for small informal groups of believers who fellowship, study, pray, and share together like the “house churches” of early Christianity (Acts 2:46; 5:42; Philem. 2). The average complex church today has little room for such face-to-face and heart-to-heart openness of fellowship. The vital need of Christians for mutual sharing, confession, encouragement, exhortation, and edification is often frustrated in our spectator-like programs where participation for most persons is limited to listening to a sermon or a lecture. Perhaps the time is ripe for co-ordinating mass evangelism with the development of small, disciplined groups or cells that regularly meet to share, study, pray and witness. In fact, unless such a union takes place the best effects of mass evangelism may well be dissipated.

Although George Whitefield was in some ways a greater evangelist than Wesley, Wesley’s ministry had the most enduring results. Said Whitefield: “My brother Wesley acted more wisely than I. The souls that were awakened under his ministry he joined together in class and so preserved the fruit of his labors. I failed to do this, and as a result my people are a rope of sand.” Wesley’s famous “class meetings” across England were spiritual homes for the babes in Christ born into the Kingdom under his ministry, and provided the atmosphere of fellowship for growth. Today we need a similar reformation within the Church, and the appearance of such fellowships in the aftermath of evangelistic crusades. This would be in line with the pattern set at Pentecost, where those converted and baptized as a result of Peter’s sermon “continued steadfastly in the aspostles’ doctrine and fellowship, and in breaking of bread, and in prayers.” Evangelistic crusades can stimulate such groups if pastors are ready for them.

Finally, mass evangelism gives opportunity for “on-the-job” training in the work of evangelism. Many Christians definitely desire to witness but are uncertain about how or where to begin. An evangelistic campaign provides such persons excellent training and opportunity for first-hand experience in prayer, visitation, and personal counseling.

Preparation for any crusade should include a preliminary series of classes in Christian life and witness, an item firmly established and followed in the Billy Graham crusades. After attending such a series, a pastor friend who is a leader in evangelism both in his church and denomination, said to me, “I am convinced that the greatest opportunity in the Christian church today lies in the field of counselor training.” And a young Methodist layman declared, “These counseling classes have given me a training and an incentive to witness that I have been waiting for all of my Christian life!” A prominent minister asserted that as far as his church was concerned the finest results of the crusade in his city were among many of his members who served as counselors. When the crusade was over, these persons continued witnessing and winning people to Christ! We learn evangelism best not by reading about it or hearing about it, but by doing it.

For multitudes of Christians the evangelistic crusade not only provides basic training and experience in personal evangelism, but also the challenge for unabating growth in spiritual life and witness.

The impetus created by a crusade is like water piling up beyond a dam. The water-power is harnessed by channeling it into a number of turbines to furnish electrical energy. So the spiritual energy built up through mass evangelism may be channeled through renewed churches, through awakened groups, through revived and regenerated persons, to provide spiritual power for continuing mission.

LEIGHTON FORD

Associate Evangelist

Billy Graham Evangelistic Association

Minneapolis, Minnesota

The search for an outward, visible unity of God’s people is nothing new. Recent endeavors like the World Council of Churches actually result from a long history of efforts by Christians to get together. The nineteenth century had many movements with ecumenical dimensions. In 1838, for example, Samuel Schmucker, a Lutheran, proposed a plan to unite Protestant churches on a federated basis. Implemented by Philip Schaff, the eminent church historian, Schmucker’s idea eventuated in establishing national federations of churches. Organizations like the American Bible Society, the American Tract Society, the Evangelical Alliance, the YMCA and YWCA, as well as the rise of interdenominational foreign mission boards, of interdenominational theological seminaries and of ecumenical missionary conferences as at Toronto (and at Edinburgh in 1910) were other indications of activity and concern beyond sectarian limits. It should be quite obvious, then, that the present ecumenical thrust in America and around the world is only continuing an attitude and perspective that reaches back more than a century.

In dealing with ecumenicity our concern here is limited to the visible church. We do not include the invisible church with its broader fellowship of saints already departed and of those saints yet to come. In their expositions men like Augustine, Luther, Calvin, and Wycliffe have clearly defined the biblical concept of the invisible church; its unity is indivisible because its membership is a united fellowship that centers in the living Christ, the head of the church. The unity of this invisible church in heaven should find its logical projection in the visible church on earth. Instead the visible church displays discord, schism and division.

Serious Bible students realize that the unity of the body of Christ in its visible manifestations is the will of God. Whether this unity can be expressed only in one great church organization or whether it can be attained spiritually without organic union is something else again. But the absence of unity, whatever Scripture may mean by that term, is cause for sorrow, not for rejoicing. Therefore today’s deep concern everywhere over the disunity of the body of Christ is really something wholesome. In the days ahead this concern undoubtedly will increase rather than diminish. This is as it should be.

Except for a few scattered belligerents (sometimes even at odds with themselves), no earnest believers vote against true unity. Many persons, however, sharply disagree about the nature and the implementation of that unity. The National Council of Churches is one expression of unity at work, The National Association of Evangelicals another. The American Council of Christian Churches represents still another. The very existence of these organizations is, in itself, a vote for unity. Each favors it, but each means something different by the word.

Denominationalism has not caused the present disunity of the Christian church, as evidenced by one important but frequently overlooked fact. The average lay person shows greater active interest in his local church, than in his denomination as such. When he moves from one area to another, therefore, he often transfers his membership to a church of another denomination because he favors the program and preaching of that particular local church. More and more he seems willing to sacrifice denominational ties in order to obtain what is spiritually vital to him. A theologically conservative Presbyterian, for example, can be found worshipping in a conservative Baptist church when the local Presbyterian church is liberal; and a liberal Congregationalist can be found in a Unitarian church when the local Congregational church is in the conservative evangelical tradition.

If denominationalism does not cause disunity, where else may lie the major hindrances to some better expression of visible church unity before an unbelieving world? Two problems undoubtedly concern faith and order, issues which even the modern ecumenical movement finds crucial in its discussions. Totally apart from the vexing fact of human contrariety, the questions posed by faith and order are of such magnitude that any unity which bypasses or inadequately answers them can only produce some sort of pseudo-unity behind whose facade crowds a Babel of confusion.

What then needs to be said about faith and order? Calvin stressed an “indivisible connection which all members of Christ have with one another.” This conviction is undoubtedly valid. The problem comes in trying to define “members of Christ,” a consideration that involves faith and doctrine. In effect, the World Council of Churches declares a “member of Christ” as one who believes that Jesus Christ is God and Saviour. Around this theological pronouncement (whether it be thought of as testimony or as creedal statement) the Council seeks to establish unity. Certain dissenting voices claim that this statement, while true, is inadequate. Calvin himself would have had to agree with this objection. The very church he declared not to be a church, and from which he disassociated himself with no qualms of conscience, could and would endorse the theological platform of the World Council of Churches. But how could Calvin justify leaving the Roman church which affirmed, then as now, that Christ is God? He could withdraw only because such an affirmation was insufficient to sustain one of the two marks of a true church, a church where “we see the Word of God purely preached and heard.” Surely the absence of essential truth should cause concern no less than the presence of perverted, hence corrupted truth. At the second assembly of the WCC at Evanston in 1954 the Orthodox Church pointed out the theological inadequacy of the Council by saying: “It is not enough to accept just certain particular doctrines, basic as they may be in themselves, e. g., that Christ is God and Saviour. It is compelling that all doctrines as formulated by the Ecumenical Councils, as well as the totality of the teaching of the early, undivided Church, should be accepted.”

Since doctrinal consensus is essential, the question then follows: “What minimal testimony, confession of faith, or creed, is required in order to preserve the ‘purely preached Word of God?’” On this basis the problem of the World Council of Churches is not that it has said too much, but that it has said too little. Immediately, however, one must recognize the danger of the opposite approach; those who “say too much” by defining the particulars of the faith in microscopic detail may thereby exclude everyone but themselves from the “unity” of fellowship. Both extremes must be avoided. Surely one should appreciate the plight of the World Council as it tries to determine the major affirmations of the Christian faith. But one cannot restrain the thought that a doctrinal confession of faith ought certainly to precede and to undergird the Council’s organizational manifestation; absence of proper foundation jeopardizes any superstructure. Moreover the World Council should investigate all aspects of a minimal confession of faith. Such a confession must be broad enough to include all true believers, but narrow enough to exclude all those who are outside the family of the faithful. As it now stands the World Council’s confession is sufficiently latitudinarian to embrace those who ought to be excluded. Strengthening of the present affirmation would be welcome indeed and cause for rejoicing.

If the WCC operates on an inadequate doctrinal foundation, the Roman Catholic Church has moved in the opposite direction. To the ecumenical creeds she has added concepts like the immaculate conception and the assumption of Mary, the infallibility of the pope, and five sacraments. All these tenets are regarded a part of the church’s essence; to deny them assertedly means loss of redemption. Thus the Roman church has severed herself from a continuity of witness to the apostolic tradition. And she has added the word of man to the Word of God with the insistence that man’s word be acknowledged on an equality with the Word of God. Actually some modern Protestant theologians have erred in the same direction so that the word of man has overshadowed the Word of God, and the continuity of witness to the apostolic tradition has been undermined. Therefore, while a minimal statement like that of the WCC has its dangers, an improper extension of doctrine is likewise hazardous.

The ecumenical dialogue, moreover, all too often has espoused a unity based on love, a love, however, whose definition falls short of theological adequacy. Whether or not “doctrine divides, love unites,” to use love as an umbrella to cover doctrinal differences and deficiencies, however hopefully, does not solve the basic problem. Indeed the principle of togetherness might conceivably be extended to cover Unitarian, Mormons and similar groups, too. Doctrine does divide. It always has and it always will. And indeed it must, even as the Bible does, in order to separate truth from error. On the other hand the kind of doctrinal jealousy that drives men to strain out a gnat while they swallow a camel is most unfortunate. The quarrel is not with the emphasis on love, but with the implication that since doctrine divides it should be avoided like a plague, and with the idea that doctrine and love in themselves are mutually incompatible. Actually both doctrine and love should be emphasized.

Genuine biblical love is impossible apart from sound doctrine. Since God is love, all love issues from his being. Love is the fruit of the Holy Spirit created in the heart of man by the Spirit (Rom. 5:5; Gal. 5:22). The same God who is love is also truth. Therefore love must correspond to truth. Thus if it is not grounded in sound doctrine, love is not true love even though called by that name. Conversely, sound doctrine cannot be loveless; the Christian is commanded to love as an expression of the doctrinal framework of the faith.

The second problem that vexes the ecumenical movement is the question of order. Certainly order more than faith keeps the Roman Catholic Church from fruitful conversation with the ecumenical movement. One might predict with some accuracy that were the present membership of the World Council of Churches to submit to Roman Catholic order, i.e., papal supremacy, there could be an immediate reunion of Western Christendom even though the Reformers viewed the papacy as the height of human pretension and disavowed the Roman Catholic Church as a true church. The episcopacy, or the right of holy orders, stands at the center of the problem of church order. Supporters of episcopacy cannot honestly acknowledge that those without benefit of ordination by bishops who stand in apostolic succession from the days of the apostles are to be accepted as ministers of the Gospel. And since the validity of the sacraments is inextricably bound to the person who superintends them there can be no valid baptism or celebration of the Eucharist by one who has not received holy orders via apostolic succession. For those in the tradition of apostolic succession to concede at this point would be to deny the heart of their establishment. Contrariwise for others to embrace the episcopal view would be to stress what they declare to be non-essential, if not opposed, to their views of the Christian faith. Whether the non-episcopal forces will bow to the episcopal view by way of concession rather than principle, and whether even this gesture would bridge the gap are still moot questions.

Discussions of church order, moreover, lead naturally to the question as to whether, on this subject, God’s Word lays down principles which are binding upon the churches. The importance of this question is obvious. If the Word of God specifically supports Congregational, or Presbyterial, or Episcopal ecclesiology, then any others must be in error and do not reflect the biblical norm. Furthermore, the people who embrace other ecclesiologies must be sinning and should therefore change. On the other hand, if the Word of God does not prescribe one particular form of church order but allows for free expression according to the genius and spiritual needs of God’s people, then denominations as we know them are not sinful. They are, rather, creative expressions of the sovereign working power of the Holy Spirit.

The future of unity depends in some measure at least, then, on the answers given to the aforementioned questions. Obviously the problems of faith and order will not be solved readily, for no one person or group has all the truth. But contemporary theology with its confusion and contradiction hardly provides as secure a basis for Christian togetherness as does faith rooted in God’s authoritative Word. However limited the perspective of any group or individual may be, certain conclusions cannot be disputed. 1. Because they have been baptized by the same Spirit those who are in Christ are indivisibly united. 2. Because they are thus joined they ought to be able to worship, pray, live, and love together regardless of ecclesiastical affiliation. 3. Anything that divides the true people of God and prevents their demonstration of essential unity before a hostile world is sin.

Watching The Crucifixion For The Pleasure Of It

While in Cleveland to promote the film “King of Kings,” Ron Randell recently took the opportunity to chatter to the press about the film’s critics. “It’s chic for critics to tear apart a religious movie,” he protested, “but they’re not students of the Scriptures.” Randell plays the role of the Centurion, a role not spelled out in the New Testament but created for the movie by Philip Yordan.

Since his role stems from the script of Yordan, his appeal to the Holy Scriptures loses considerable force. And it is equally “chic” to assume that all the film’s critics are strangers to the Scriptures.

Randell’s own canons of criticism? According to the Cleveland Press Randell declared, “The movie carries a Christian message, but it should not be judged for that but rather as entertainment and as a money-making enterprise.”

“King of Kings” has received the most unfavorable comment given a religious film in a long time. But Randell outdoes the critics when he urges that the film should be evaluated not in terms of whether it conveys the factual story of Christ, but whether or not it entertains and makes money. His defense is so damning as to make it doubtful whether the film will achieve either objective.

Communism’S Religious Slip Was Showing

G. K. Chesterton once made the shrewd observation that to swear effectively men must make reference to God. Imagine, he said, an atheistic evolutionist trying for a blood-curdling oath by swearing in the name of natural selection, or by the slimy, primeval amoeba.

Chesterton spotlighted the truth that all men so truly live and move and have their being in God that without him they cannot think, act, or even swear. Men curse and reject God only by appealing to him.

This need for reference to the ultimate which compels an appeal to God in order to deny him—this use of the religious to be irreligious—the Communists have demonstrated. They boast of their atheism and materialism; they loudly deny man’s immortality and God’s existence. Spiritual values and ethical standards are said to exist only in the minds of corrupt capitalists who use them to dope the poor into a docility that accepts pie in the sky. That these ideas have been used to exploit people, the Communists unfortunately can show. But that these ideas have no existence except in Western capitalistic minds, they have not demonstrated. On the contrary, in their “moments of truth” off-moments, to be sure, the Reds have demonstrated just the opposite.

A classic example of this fact is the way the Communists brought Stalin to dishonor. To destroy his image and the cult of his personality by little Albania and big Red China, Khrushchev and the 22nd Party Congress had to number Stalin among the sinners. They condemned him as a mass murderer and criminal abuser of countless honest Russian people, then proceeded to voice a kind of public repentance for the moral failures of the long-honored leader of the Soviet government.

Only by appealing to those moral standards whereby the Christian West has long known what the Communists just lately discovered, could the Party Congress justify its degrading removal of Stalin from a place of honor in the Lenin Mausoleum in Moscow’s great Red Square. This not only uses religion to exploit, it also demonstrates that even Communists must appeal to ethical standards of right and wrong to separate the sheep from the goats.

But there are further instances where the Communists have verified Chesterton. While in America, Khrushchev referred to both God and Jesus, and even quoted Scripture. Mikoyan on U.S. television proudly professed his atheism, but needing something greater than himself to lend force to his words, he appealed to the devil.

But only recently, in the fantastic speech made by Darya Lazurkina before the 22nd Party Congress, the latest, most bizarre appeal of atheistic communism to the supernatural occurred. Imprisoned by Stalin for almost 20 years, she survived by spiritualistic communications with Lenin, who recently informed her, she said, that he did not enjoy occupying the same bedroom with Stalin. Darya told the Congress, “I always had Lenin in my heart and asked him what to do. Yesterday I consulted Lenin again, and he seemed to stand before me as if alive, and said, ‘It is unpleasant for me to lie next to Stalin, who caused the party so much harm.’”

The West could well learn that although the specific character of evil is manifold, the overall pattern of Soviet behavior is predictable. By its own explicit avowal communism is intent on the destruction of the Christian tradition and the remaking of the world on Communist lines. If the West were more conscious of her Christian heritage she would recognize that the form of the Communist rebellion must necessarily be derived from the tradition they intend to destroy.

Christ is Prophet. Christ is Priest. Christ is King. This three-fold division of the mediatorial work of Jesus Christ has become traditional in Protestant theology. The offices declare the righteousness of God in Christ, the mediation of God for our salvation, and the sovereignty of God in the world.

One of the earliest clear references to the offices in the patristic literature occurs in Eusebius (though the work of Christ in each role was evident to the Church from apostolic days): “We have also received the tradition that some of the prophets themselves had by anointing already become Christs in type, seeing that they all refer to the true Christ, the divine and heavenly Logos, of the world the only High Priest, of all creation the only king, of the prophets the only archprophet of the Father. The proof of this is that no one of those symbolically anointed of old, whether priests or kings or prophets, obtained such power of divine virtue as our Saviour and Lord, Jesus, the only real Christ, has exhibited … that until this present day he is honoured by his worshippers throughout the world as king, wondered at more than a prophet, and glorified as the true and only High Priest of God …” (Historia Ecclesiastica, I.3).

John Calvin made the offices a point of special attention in The Institutes where his discussion though brief is characteristically lucid (II, 15). He remarks that while the concept was not unknown to the papists of his time, they used it frigidly without the accompanying knowledge of the end of the offices nor their use in the exposition of the Gospel. Succeeding theologians, especially of the Reformed tradition, have used it with varying emphasis. For example, Charles Hodge, A. H. Strong, and Louis Berkhof devote but scanty space to the prophetic and kingly offices (the substance of the latter doctrine is usually reserved for elucidation in eschatology), but each expands the priestly role to include a comprehensive statement of the doctrine of the atonement.

The idea of the offices also figures in Eastern theology. For example, in answer to the question “Why, then, is Jesus, the Son of God, called The Anointed?” The Longer Catechism of the Orthodox, Catholic, Eastern Church (1839) says, “Because to his manhood were imparted without measure all the gifts of the Holy Ghost; and so he possesses in the highest degree the knowledge of a prophet; the holiness of a high priest; and the power of a king.” The offices set forward the divine-human nature of the Mediator, proclaiming thus not only his uniqueness but also his prerogatives (1 Tim. 2:5).

Christ the Anointed One. In the early stages of biblical history, the three offices seem to have been joined in the role the patriarch assumed in the family. Each was in effect prophet, priest, and king to his own household, but under God. Later the division of these roles seems clear, but whether earlier or later the idea generic to each is that of divine anointing to the office. This was as true of prophets and kings as of priests (1 Sam. 16:3; 1 Kings 19:16; Ps. 105:15). Further, Israel’s hope was that, in the Messiah all three offices would be fulfilled perfectly and joined harmoniously for the inauguration of the kingly-redemptive rule of God. The claim of our Lord upon such prophetic anticipations is both authoritative and revealing (Isa. 61:1–2; Luke 4:18–19). Prominent figures in the Old Testament point to Christ whether they were anointed prophets, priests, or kings. The Coming One was to be both Jehovah’s anointed and a personal deliverer. The revelation at each point of history was revelation, discrete, concrete, actual, and sating, but together the words and events heralded the antitype Jesus Christ.

For this reason sight must not be lost of the fact that the offices interpenetrate. Christ fills them all at once and yet successively in the achievement of his mission for the world in history. His proclamation of the righteousness of God (Rom. 3:21–26; Matt. 11:27; John 3:34) was fulfilled when he purged our sins (God justifying the sinner justly, as Paul says) and then sat down upon the throne of heaven in regal glory (Heb. 1:3), and this trilogy has been seen by Christians everywhere in Scripture, for example, Isaiah 53. Christ comes as the personal word of God, the personal redeemer of the world, and the personal center of the kingdom of God.

The Theological Footing. Mediation raises the question of its rationale. This should be seen jointly in terms of righteousness and grace, wrath and love, judgment and mercy. Now the revelation of the divine love in Jesus Christ is an important emphasis in contemporary theology, but not infrequently judgment and wrath are reduced to a definition of love that evacuates them of their common meaning. The love of Christ is God’s self-giving (John 3:16) and sight must not be lost of its recreating and reconciling power. Certainly the loving concern of God in Jesus Christ for wayward man and an evil-infected world is the dominant note of the Christian revelation. But that note is no monotone, rather, it is the harmonious chord that sin deserves wrath, that grace is in view of impending judgment, and that the divine love is revealed redemptively active not over but through judgment.

The relations between God and man are personal, and to say this is to say that they are moral. Both of these realities bear upon the mediatorial offices of Christ. To say that God loves sinners without saying that God will judge un-atoned for and unforgiven sin is a saccharine conception of the divine love that squares neither with the biblical revelation of God’s character nor the plain facts of human experience. The judgment of God is real and he claims this both as his prerogative and duty. Personal and moral categories are the highest we know. Here the freedom of God and man is preserved and righteousness vindicated in the judgment of evil. The work of Christ is addressed to these two sides of the issue, and we ignore either one at our peril. The theology of the offices takes account of both and this is a salutary corrective of certain contemporary trends.

Christ as Prophet. It has been said popularly that the prophet spoke for God to men while the priest acted on behalf of men before God. As the prophets of old, Jesus Christ did proclaim the Word of the Lord, but more than that, he himself was the living embodiment of that Word. The idea of the prophet to come who would sum up both the prophetic ideal and the prophetic message dominated Israelitish thinking from the times of Moses (Deut. 18:15). Our Lord clearly identified himself with the prophetic office in its preaching, teaching, and revelatory functions, as well as with the rejection borne by and sufferings inflicted upon the ancient men of God (Matt. 23:29 f.; Luke 4:24 ff.; 13:33 f.). He called himself a prophet (Luke 13:33); he claimed to bring a message from the Father (John 8:26–28; 14:10–24; 17:8, 26); and people recognized him to be a prophet (Matt. 21:11, 46; Luke 7:16; 24:19; John 3:2; 4:19).

Primarily he epitomized the righteousness of God which he proclaimed, and his presence as incarnate joins together mysteriously the working of righteousness and grace for our salvation. A poignant manner of expressing his prophetic role as both proclaiming and being the righteousness of God is the figure of the pierced ear in both testaments of Scripture (Exod. 21:5–6; Ps. 40:6–10; Heb. 10:5–7). His humanity sums up the perfection of the divine ideal for men and in his righteousness and obedience our response is taken up and made actual. He is the true sui generis: the one who loves righteousness because he is righteous. The Scriptures forever join the noetic and moral elements of human experience which contemporary positivism and naturalism perpetually try to bifurcate. What a man knows and what he does depends upon what he is, and this moral judgment is what Christ brings to bear upon the race. He can say “Lo! in the volume of the book it is written of me I come to do thy will, O God” and “I have preached righteousness in the great congregation … I have declared thy faithfulness and thy salvation.” This is precisely because the divine law is within his heart, and our calling is to the same freedom in righteousness.

Christ as Priest. The surpassing worth of Christ’s priestly work over the Aaronic priesthood is the theme of the epistle to the Hebrews. The forgiveness of sins in Scripture is peculiarly attached to sacrifice for sin (John 1:29) and, as the prophetic word is the word of righteousness, Christ’s priestly act is the fulfillment of righteousness, under judgment, for the world’s salvation. The conception of his life given for our lives dominates the biblical revelation (Mark 8:31; 9:31; 10:33–34, 45).

The analogies and contrasts between the Aaronic priesthood and Christ’s priesthood are clear. He as sinless needed not to offer up sacrifice first for himself as the other priests did; his blood could take away sin whereas the blood of bulls and goats could not; his work was final while theirs must be repeated (Heb. 7; 9; 10). Christ is both priest and victim, both punisher and punished, and herein lies the profoundest mystery of Christianity touching the doctrines of the Trinity, Incarnation and Atonement. The fact is that Christ’s sacrifice does not buy divine love but is the gift of that love where he submits to the judgment of our sin. The relation we sustained to God because of sin was death, and Christ entered fully into that (1 Cor. 15:3; Rom. 4:25; Gal. 1:4; 3:13). This atoning act is his high priesthood where he joins himself to us and makes reconciliation for sin (Heb. 2:17; 3:1), and, now having entered into heaven he continues his intercessory ministry for us (Heb. 4:4; 4:15; 9:11–15, 24–28; 10:19–22). He is a kingly priest glorified with the full splendor of the throne of God and by the distinctive glory of a finished saving work (Heb. 10:10–14; Rev. 1:13; 5:6, 9, 12). He bore our judgment and he died our death; he carried our sorrows and he lives now to succour us.

But a further analogy is drawn, namely, between the Melchizedec priesthood and Christ’s in contrast to the Aaronic, because Melchizedec typifies the eternal and kingly character of Christ’s work (Heb. 7). The work Christ did had to do not with sprinkling animal blood in an earthly tabernacle where the priest passed beyond the embroidered veil shielding the Holiest place but with presenting His own sacrifice in the very “temple” of heaven, the antitype of the earthly (Heb. 8:2). This priestly order, priestly service, and sacrifice are celestial, eternal, supra-national, and final. It is the prerogative of God in Christ not to receive but to make sacrifice. What God demanded he provided. This is grace not over but through judgment.

Christ as King. The reign of God among his people was the ideal of the theocratic kingdom witnessed to continually even in the failings of the Israelitish monarchy. The promise of Messianic kingship is clear in the Davidic covenant (2 Sam. 7:12–29), in the expectation of the prophets (Isa. 9:6–7; 11:1–10; 42:1–4), in the ejacul*tion of Nathaniel (John 1:49), in the care with which our Lord guarded himself from the impetuous crowd (John 6:15), and in the ironic superscription of the Cross (John 18:37; 19:19). He was thought of as a king (Matt. 2:2; Acts 17:7), declared a king (Heb. 1:8; Rev. 1:5), and expected to return in regal power and splendor (1 Tim. 6:14–16; Rev. 11:15; 19:16).

This kingship has been taken commonly to be spiritual over the hearts of men in the manner of our Lord’s speaking to Pilate, and many theologians have held that the Sermon on the Mount is the declaration of the Kingdom principles and its institution. No ministry, no administration of ordinance or sacrament, no work or gift of the Spirit can be conceived of as operating under less than the suzerainty of Jesus Christ (Matt. 28:19–20; John 16:13–14). The Great Commission proclaims not only the standing orders of the church but the lordship of its author. Indeed, Paul, led by the Holy Spirit, advances from the truth that “Jesus is Lord” for every Christian to the declaration of Christ’s sovereignty in the universe (Col. 1:16–17; Heb. 1–3).

Thus the Christian hope moves along two planes of comprehension: Christ’s kingdom is the kingdom of truth and righteousness bought by his own blood, and the prerogatives he possessed and vindicated in the Cross and Resurrection and now exercises in the Church and the world point to his final assumption of power. His enemies will become his footstool (Heb. 10:13); he will yet judge the world (Matt. 25:31).

Upon the Cross as at his temptation he could not be corrupted by evil. “The prince of this world comes,” he remarked in the night of his passion, “and hath nothing in me.” Evil is borne and overcome, and the finality of Christ’s prophetic, priestly, and kingly work becomes translated into an actual victory in life for the Christian. Sin “shall not have dominion over us” because it “can not” do so any longer. Who shall lay anything to the charge of God’s elect? It is God that justifieth.

This is our priesthood, our prophetic ministry, and our victory. As he was in the world so are we. There is for the Christian the suffering for Christ and the suffering with Christ. And the certainty of the Christian is this, that he is the only soldier in history who enters the field of battle with the victory already behind his back.

Bibliography: L. D. Bevan, “Offices of Christ,” International Standard Bible Encyclopedia, J. Orr, ed., Vol. I; R. L. Ottley, “The Incarnation,” Dictionary of the Bible, Vol. II; E. Brunner, Dogmatics, Vol. II; T. Watson, A Body of Divinity; The Larger Catechism of the Westminster Confession.

Associate Professor of Theology

New Orleans Baptist Seminary

New Orleans, Louisiana

It is late in the afternoon, or bedtime has come and there is a deep sense of frustration as we look back on the day.

Everything has gone wrong, even things which often have been easy have been hard, while unexpected problems have brought with them a sense of aggravation and futility.

A harsh word has led to unpleasantness, even with a dear one. The people with whom we work have seemed unusually irritating and the daily task has been a burden, not a pleasure.

The news has been bad and the outlook for the future seems unusually foreboding. Some incidents of the day have struck home with unusual force and one approaches the remaining hours with a deep feeling of dissatisfaction.

That this is a picture of the cultured pagans around us is often obvious. But why did this happen to me, a Christian? We know that it is far more than the trite saying that we “got out of the wrong side of bed.” Nor can we blame it on a feline of midnight hue which crossed our path on the way to work; or the ladder we walked under. We may have spilled the salt at breakfast, or passed a funeral procession, or been the victims of any one of a thousand other silly superstitions.

Down in our hearts we know there is something wrong inside, something we have missed, some turn we have taken to the left when we should have gone to the right, some intervention of the vagaries and perversities of human nature of which we have been the victim.

What has happened? What is wrong? Remember, we are speaking to Christians not to pagans, to people who should know better but who so often live as beggars when they should live as kings.

The trouble is that no proper foundation has been laid for the day, no turning to the Fountain of Life, no drinking from the wellsprings of eternity, no use of the means of grace God has made available to all who will look to him.

In other words, a Christian who starts his or her day without first turning to God in prayer and to his Word for truth and guidance has taken the sure step towards a day of frustration and ineffectiveness.

Many Christians live lives devoid of power, purpose, understanding, security, assurance, and victory because they are starved for spiritual food, and such food is not found in the daily newspaper or in the casual conversations of normal daily intercourse.

Why do we presume to walk without a lamp to guide our feet, a light to lighten the way?

Why do we go on in willful sins when our hearts may be fortified by the Word of the living God?

Why do we settle for inward chaos when for the asking we may have the peace of God which passeth understanding?

Why do we look at the panorama of unfolding history and cringe in fear at the things we see coming on the earth when it is our privilege to know and rest in the God of history?

Why do we walk blindly, stumbling over the adverse circ*mstances of life when it is our privilege to walk in the conscious presence of the God who gives light and understanding?

Why do we perversely insist on our own way when we should know that such a course may be the way of death while there is a certain way which leads to life eternal?

Why do we often complain against the providences of God when in those acts we find his perfect will and his unlimited blessings for us?

Has the god of this world blinded our eyes? As Christians surely not! Then what is the matter? The answer is clear and the way is sure. God expects his children to take advantage of privileges open to no one else, namely, to live by his wisdom, his power, his guidance, and in the light of his loving favor.

When the day goes wrong, things turn sour, and we find ourselves no longer conscious of the joy of our Lord in our hearts it is high time to stop and take inventory. The Holy Spirit will show us that the fault lies within us, for God has neither forsaken us nor has he voided his promises.

Engaged in an unending battle with the enemy of souls we have but one weapon against which he cannot stand—the Sword of the Spirit, which is the Word of God.

Strange how we seem willing to remain ignorant of what God has said! Strange that we are willing to start even one day without the comfort, hope, and guidance that can be found in Holy Scriptures! Strange that we will start out to do anything without first talking to the One who sees the past, the present, and the future all at one glance and who holds all in his loving hands!

To those who say, “But I do not understand the Bible” the reply is, “Of course not.” But when Christ enters our hearts and the Holy Spirit sheds on heart and mind his illuminating power the mere words of the past become the glowing written Word of the living God, supremely relevant for today and geared to our immediate needs.

Living in a dying world order, a transient speck in the panorama of eternity, men need the steadying and clarifying truth of the God of eternity, a perspective which takes the unseen into account, the heavenly rather than the temporal.

We also need something better than the frailties and fallibilities of human wisdom and speculation; we need something which is certain in the midst of uncertainties, something which is revealed from heaven rather than merely that which man himself can discover.

The Apostle Paul, writing to his spiritual son, Timothy, said: “And that from a babe thou hast known the holy scriptures, which are able to make thee wise unto salvation through faith which is in Christ Jesus.”

Are we neglecting the Scriptures today? Is our “Bible reading” done with a hasty and undisciplined mind and life? Do we approach it as a fetish, or as an Aladdin’s lamp thinking that there is a magic which may do us good?

Or, do we recognize that God has spoken and that it is our privilege and duty to find out what he has said?

The Bible is not a book on which we sit in judgment. Rather it is a book which speaks to us in clear and unmistakable terms, judging us in every thought and motive. Here we find doctrine (Christian truth), instruction in righteousness, reproof, correction, and above all else, God’s revelation in the person of his Son.

To start the day without the help God is so anxious to give is to court disaster. To lean upon our own understanding is to walk in darkness rather than in the light. To neglect the Bible is to live in ignorance when we should be living in the way of divine revelation.

We owe it to ourselves and to our profession as Christians to follow the example of the Berean Christians who “examined the scriptures daily,” taking them for what they are: God speaking to man.

The hermeneutical question and the relation of kerygma and history are probably the major problems to be resolved if New Testament theology is to move beyond the Bultmannian consensus. Bultmann is correct in asserting that the basic problem is hermeneutics, because Protestantism cannot exist apart from the principle of the authority of Scripture. How do we interpret a historical document so that it is relevant for our life? We may agree that there is such a thing as a Vorverständnis (a pre-understanding), an interest and a question which impel us to come to Scripture. But we cannot, as Bultmann does, narrowly define what this must be, and ignore the complexities of the Church’s conviction that the Bible is Holy Scripture. Awareness of a “pre-understanding” does not allow the privilege of interrogating Scripture as though the only questions worth asking were already known. The fundamental concern is to say to the Bible, “Teach me.” It was not the business of Jesus to answer questions but to ask them. Existential theology is arrogant in assuming that philosophy knows what the right questions are. Unless we are willing to face the questions the Bible puts to us we cannot claim that it is the authority which we formally confess it to be. The Bible is a means of grace and God is able to speak to us through it in spite of as well as because of whatever Vorverständnis we may bring to the text. It is not possible to bring a Vorverständnis as to what the action of God must signify or wherein it must be distinct from the action of man or the events of nature. To so define the possibilities of the action of God in terms of existential philosophy before we ever come to the Bible is to assume a restrictive and arbitrary superiority over the Word of God. Understanding of the action of God and of the will and purpose behind it is so important for biblical theology that we must seek out the biblical categories and allow them a normative role in interpretation. Although there will always be an existential aspect in biblical interpretation, the Bultmannian question as to the “understanding of the self,” controlled as it is by the categories of Heidegger, is too restrictive to comprehend the fullness of the biblical message. In endeavoring to go beyond Bultmann at this point, the Church is challenged once again to get beyond the ancient gnosticism (e.g., the Gospel of Truth) which also interpreted the Gospel in terms of self-understanding and thus got rid of the realistic eschatology of the New Testament, especially that of the Fourth Gospel. Such a starting point necessarily leads to demythologizing. But if we redefine the starting point we may be able to validate the apocalyptic imagery in the New Testament. This new starting point should be the understanding of the self in history—in the history to which the Bible bears witness. This will allow us to retain the realistic eschatology of the Bible, and also to face without evasion (demythologizing) the biblical witness to the nature of evil in its trans-subjective aspects. Bultmann can do nothing with the Satanology of the New Testament. But the Gospel and trans-subjective evil are inextricable, and adequate interpretation must be able to do justice to this fact.

Bultmann’s understanding of the self has not, at least as far as he has developed it, gotten beyond the basic pessimism of the early Heidegger. But this existential pessimism is no norm for biblical interpretation. There is a weakness here which runs through all forms of existentialism. It is not at all certain that the disquiet in Dasein (as defined by Heidegger) is really anxiety for God, and that therefore this anxiety has the legitimacy of a critical principle by which we know what faith should assert and what it should reject in the biblical message. Beyond this pessimism there is a word to proclaim about the kingdom of the dead and the relation of the resurrection of Jesus to the resurrection at the last day. The Church has always proclaimed Christ as alive. On this question and its corollary of life after death we wish to hear a clearer word from the existential theologians. Or do they after all really avow an ultimate existentialism which leaves death the complete victor? If so, then existentialism and scientism have combined to mute the true message of the resurrection of Jesus. This has to do with much more than the existential faith of disciples.

It is necessary then to get beyond Bultmann’s restriction of the center of Christian faith to Christ in nobis or pro nobis. The New Testament is concerned also with Christ in himself. Here is where existential eschatology and the realistic eschatology of the Bible diverge. Concern with Christ in himself leads to understanding of the place of Creation, Incarnation, Christian history (in a total sense), and vocation in this world by the Church. In addition, the imperative “walk by the Spirit” means more than “walk by your own existential decision.” Here we must retain the language and meaning of Paul and confess the Spirit to be a personal power extra nos.

The radical dichotomy between Bultmann’s interpretation of Scripture and of the Word of God must be overcome by resolving the ambiguities in his view of history. The restrictive character of the “understanding of the self” is one with his rejection of the possibility of any meaning of history. Bultmann’s Gifford Lectures (History and Eschatology, 1957) show his existentialist despair of history as a meaningful whole. He is left with an idea of meaning in history, but not history in its common sense. He rejects (total) history in favor of an individualistic historicity. This approach, which really governs his existential interpretation, is in striking contrast to the strongly positivistic view of history he had earlier employed in his historical, especially form-critical, studies of the New Testament and its world. But it is not legitimate to destroy the historical worth of the gospels with one definition of history only to try to rehabilitate the Gospel (the value of the kerygma) by means of an entirely different understanding of history. Historical understanding must (unlike Bultmann) allow for the witness of the Old Testament to history, the problem Paul treats in Romans 9–11, and the questions of historical continuity with which the New Testament writers wrestled. This material will not submit to existential historicity. It is doubtful whether we should use the term history for the life of an individual. It belongs better to the life of a group and to a public process. It is possible to say that man is an agent of history, but the Christian man is an agent of the eschatological process insofar as he is a member of the Body of Christ living in obedience to the purpose for which God called this Body into being. God and Satan as agents of history are never alone.

The rigid differentiation of Dasein from Vorhandenheit in existentialism supports this ambiguity in Bultmann’s historical understanding. It also supplies a cause of offense at myth, since myth seems to blend the two aspects of existence. But the structure of the two ages which underlies the New Testament eschatological view of history cannot be compressed into Dasein, nor can it be dissociated from the time process. Behind the time process is the biblical view of the personal God who pursues a goal in history, and not only in the existence of the individual.

History And Meaning

We shall be helped here also if we refuse to make too much of the distinction between Historie (mere history as an object of scientific study) and Geschichte (the event and its effects on present and future). The nineteenth century’s overemphasis on Historie is not corrected by a twentieth-century overemphasis on Geschichte which is dissociated from the problems of the time process. The problem is met in interpreting the ephapax, the once-for-allness of the saving event in Christ. Bultmann has shifted this completely to the realm of Geschichte, of the existential decision which results in eschatological existence. But the New Testament describes the once-for-allness of the death of Christ as, in these terms, an event as much in Historie as in Geschichte. We must either redefine Geschichte in order to allow the emphasis on the pastness of the event or conceive of a co-existence of Geschichte and Historie. When Bultmann says that the cross of Christ is not salvation event because it is the cross of Christ, but that it is the cross of Christ because it is salvation event, he is expressing as an either/or what can only be a both/and. The once-for-allness of Christianity has something to say about Christ in himself, not merely about the moment by moment of existential meditation. The event of Jesus Christ is datable. The difference between Incarnation and Resurrection is not a matter of my decision but a matter of about 30 years on our time scale.

Cullmann accuses Bultmann of neglecting in the biblical view of history the idea of oikonomia as a temporal succession of events. Bultmann retorts that Cullmann’s view of Heilsgeschichte (holy history) provides no criterion by which to distinguish its events as Divine in contradistinction to the events of secular history. Certainly the definition of Heilsgeschichte and its relation to general history require more precise delimitation, but this can only be done where there is an acceptance of the New Testament proclamation of the revelation of the goal of all history. This is revealed now in Jesus Christ, yet in its consummation it is still future to the time of his Resurrection and Ascension.

The Parousia As Center

In giving the central place to the Cross rather than to the Parousia, Bultmann continues the trend of the older pietism (and orthodoxy). This is of a piece with his rejection of the goal of history. The result is the same egocentricity characteristic of the forms of pietism, which show no sense of belonging to a history of salvation which transcends my existential decision, my experience, and the limits of my Geworfenheit (thrownness) in this world. But the Cross attains its significance only in light of the goal of the revelation of the glory of Christ in the future. The Parousia is the center of the New Testament theology and represents the goal of the divine purpose. The Cross is the event in our history which reveals the attainability of that goal and guarantees its realization in a yet future kairos (the time of God’s action). Apart from the knowledge of the goal, the means which God uses to attain his goal cannot be understood. As Löwith (Meaning in History, 1949) points out, we cannot speak of meaning of history unless we have some idea of a goal. The Parousia means also the victory over evil symbolized in the inseparable events of Resurrection of the dead and the Last Judgment. Salvation in the New Testament is ultimately a future reality, and this future is temporal and not restricted to the “possibilities” resultant upon existential decision. Only as we give adequate emphasis to the necessity of the Parousia can we possibly interpret the complexities of futurism in New Testament soteriology and eschatology. New Testament soteriology is eschatological and New Testament eschatology is soteriological. Both are centered in Jesus Christ who came and is yet to come. This tension has its existential aspect but basically it has to do with history in its larger sense. The Church needs today to recapture her sense of history, her confidence in the future, her assurance of knowing the goal of history, for her life and work depend on these. It is ironic that what was once the Christian birthright is now perverted in the form of communism with its faith in history and its outcome.

Kerygma And History

The problem of the relation of kerygma to history involves the question of the historical Jesus. Although Bultmann wishes to deliver faith from the vagaries of historical criticism, his method cannot achieve this except at the cost of separating the kerygma from the historical events behind it, and giving the kerygma an objectivity which does not belong to it alone. Objectivity resides also in the events which the kerygma affirms. We must get beyond the confusion that the Cross is historic fact while the Resurrection is mythical. The Resurrection has to do with Jesus himself before it has anything to do with the faith of the disciples. It is more than an expression for the liberating value of the Cross. Only the historical event of Jesus’ resurrection from the grave can make a cross liberating.

The indissolubility of kerygma and history prevent us from transposing the Jesus of history into a Christ of faith who is usually the “Christ” of our preconceived notions of faith defined in terms of human need. Some Bultmannians, dissatisfied with the extreme skepticism of radical form-critical methods, have already called for a new enquiry for the historical Jesus. But this Jesus does not, at least as yet, appear to be more than a moral Superman. The New Testament first of all is not concerned with man, but with him who is more than man, who is Lord of man, and of the Universe. Bornkamm’s Jesus of Nazareth (1960) contains remarkable insights but betrays an existential interpretation of eschatology. James Robinson (A New Quest of the Historical Jesus, 1959) bases his plea for a new quest on the shift from nineteenth century historicism to the twentieth century view of history as encounter (thoroughly geschichtlich). But we must beware lest we assume too easily that the twentieth century view of history is identical with that of the New Testament. The New Testament itself must provide the norm for historical understanding. The problem is not simple, because the existentialist view of history and the self has been conditioned by Christian ideas.

The difficulties and the challenge emerge clearly in one of the major problems demanding resolution if we are to get beyond Bultmann (and a few others as well), namely, the relation of Heilsgeschichte and eschatology in the question of the “delayed” Parousia. A supposed antithesis between Heilsgeschichte and eschatology (Hans Conzelmann, The Theology of St. Luke, 1960), demythologizing, historical and literary criticism have all been employed to rid us of the Parousia. But any attempt to get rid of the historical-realistic eschatology also involves New Testament soteriology and Christology.

In the problem of kerygma and history, we must go beyond Bultmann and assert the theological and historical priority of the gospels. It is not proper to reject the gospels by a radical form-criticism and then go to the epistles for our theology. Neither can we, as too many conservatives do, relegate the gospels to naïve history and then go to the epistles for our theology. Pietism, Protestant Paulinism and Bultmannian existentialism agree in their ultimate disdain for the theological primacy of the gospels in the New Testament canon. This is why Bultmann can get away with his ambiguous view of history, and why Paulinists (misunderstanding Romans) can individualize salvation to the detriment of the Heilsgeschichte Paul proclaims. The categories of the Synoptics do not easily fit the frame of existential historicity. Nor does the kerygma of Jesus about the kingdom of God fit the frame of individualistic pietism. Rather the kerygma of Jesus with his awareness of an interval between Passion and Parousia points to a larger concept of the history of salvation in keeping with the Old Testament background.

The gospels confront us with the ultimate of New Testament theological questions, the self-consciousness of Jesus. We cannot solve this by taking away everything from Jesus and handing it all over to a fantastic community of early Christians. If anything needs to be demythologized it is the myth of the creative community of the early Church consisting, it seems, of theological faculties, each out to demonstrate its own brilliance, originality, and superiority to all others (strangely like modern theological faculties). The confessions of the early Church: Jesus is Christ, and Jesus is Lord, indicate a ‘biographical’ concern with Jesus; why he and not John the Baptist, for example, is the Messiah. Luke’s birth narratives show this difference had something to do with Jesus and John in themselves. The message and life of Jesus cannot be only a presupposition of New Testament theology but must be its prior and thoroughly legitimate concern.