Romanist View Of Redemption
Redemption Through the Blood of Jesus, by Gaspar Lefebvre, O.S.B. (The Newman Press, 1960, 233 pp., $4), is reviewed by Emile Cailliet, Stuart Professor of Christian Philosophy Emeritus, Princeton Theological Seminary.
Only with a sense of awe fraught with an inward shuddering may a reviewer attempt to evaluate a book written under the above title. The physical presentation of the volume immediately suggests a work of love. The scarlet and gold binding, the quality of the paper, the fine ancestry of the linotype face in which the text is set, convey the preciousness of the matter at hand. The opening pages confirm that first impression as the Benedictine author approaches his subject through liturgy. The reader is reminded that the liturgical cycle centers around the Eucharistic sacrifice, thus establishing the entire life of the faithful as a Calvary-centered life. Ample quotations from the Roman Breviary invite participation in the sensible symbols of the hidden realities pointed to by the anniversaries of the liturgical year. The very words of patriarchs, prophets, and New Testament witnesses are put on the lips of worshipers. To open Dom Lefebvre’s book is to be led into the sanctuary, to be ultimately confronted by the Holy of Holies where the Crucified One of Calvary is offered on the altar in a sacramental way. The meaning therein invited is that the Redemption can be viewed in two ways: objectively it is the realization of man’s salvation by the Father through the Son without any participation on our part; subjectively, it is the application of the objective redemption to our souls through the mediation of the Church. It is noteworthy that there is no controversy whatsoever in these pages.
Although the author’s purpose is to inspire rather than to convince, the whole structure of this well-articulated work is grounded in a tradition guarded and fostered by the teaching authority of the Church Fathers, the Councils, and the Popes. What we have here is a masterly introduction to the Roman doctrine of redemption within the larger context of the divine economy of salvation. Dom Lefebvre is obviously aware of the fact that only he who is theologically informed can be truly devotional, and this persuasion is shared by Edward A. Maziarz, C.PP.S., if we may judge from his flawless translation from the original French.
What then does a Roman Catholic mean when he asserts that the various aspects of the Redemption obtain on both the Cross of Calvary and the Eucharistic altar? Essentially this: The redemptive work accomplished on the Cross for man’s salvation is continued on the altar. A re-presentation of Calvary, the Mass stands for the fact that what the Redeemer did there and then, He is still doing through the mediation of the Apostolic Church here and now—namely, shedding his Blood, the Blood of the New Covenant, as material ransom, as a sacrifice for sins, as instrument of atonement for us men and for our salvation. Hence the great importance of devotion to the Precious Blood. Although the expression “precious blood” is only used once in Scripture (1 Pet. 1:19), its equivalent and clarification is found in 1 Corinthians 6:20, “You have been bought at a great price.” The word “precious” then indicates the incommensurable price of our redemption. It is carefully pointed out that while the blood of Jesus constitutes the price of our salvation, it is not its source. The source of its redemptive value is God. It is God alone who saves us.
The reason I have devoted so much of the space allocated to me to an objective presentation of this reverent and well-documented book, is that it gives our readers a unique opportunity to familiarize themselves with the Roman Catholic view of redemption at its best. In so doing, they are likely to feel ill at ease, more perhaps with reference to the context than to the text. The truly “Roman” language of the Catholic hierarchy will give them the impression of a climate forever foreign to them as they read, for example, that the Sacred Congregation of Rites has “improved upon” the scriptural phrase, “precious blood,” by the use of the superlative as it instituted the Mass and Office of the Most Precious Blood, a feast fixed on July 1 and destined to be elevated by Pope Pius XI to the rank of “a double of the first class” (p. 151)—whatever that may mean. Again, even the beauty and relevance of many a page in Part One will hardly reconcile Protestants to a thesis presented under the general title, The Person of the Redeemer and His Helpers (italics mine), and according to which the Virgin Mary is singled out as “our Co-Redemptrix.” The author knows not only that she was preserved from original sin by the merits of the Passion of her Son, but that “this was in view of her divine maternity” (p. 22). In so doing he obviously heeds Pope Pius IX’s declaration by the bull Ineffabilis Deus, that the doctrine of the Immaculate Conception “must be believed firmly and constantly by all the faithful.” Again he insists with Roman Catholic theologians, that only by utilizing the notions of merit and satisfaction (or reparation) can one “fully (italics mine) explain why and how the sacrificial death of Christ redeemed us” (p. 163). “God wished His Son to become man in order that He might be the cause of our deliverance in the four ways (italics mine) which have been discussed” (p. 173). These four ways, incidentally, are those distinguished by St. Thomas (p. 171). We Protestants shrink from such final definiteness. It is our view that the saving power of the cross of Christ can hardly be reduced to theoretical concepts fully accessible to our human infirmity, and as such likely to betray the possibility of human infiltration. To us, the basic assertion that the sacrifice of Calvary is continued and made effective by its representation in the Eucharistic sacrifice, amounts to an implicit denial of the once-for-allness of the work of Christ. Not only is the evangelical element lost in the Roman Eucharistic view, but so is, by the same token, the nature, personality, and true operation of the Holy Spirit, Christ’s alter ego. On the one hand, then, we have the Roman assertion that the apostolic succession through the Popes is the medium of continuity between what Christ did two thousand years ago, and my present plight as a sinner. On the other hand stands the fact of the continued presence and ministry of the Holy Spirit—of Him who is the true Vicar of Christ, and re-presents to my soul being penitent the good news of its salvation. Between these two there is no point of contact.
Redemption Through the Blood of Jesus makes it crystal clear that the Roman tradition and the Reformed tradition are forever incompatible. Their true call is to live side by side in peace, charity, and mutual respect. In approaching the mystery of the Atonement as a loyal, devout son of his own tradition, our Benedictine brother seems to have challenged whom it may concern to go and do likewise.
EMILE CAILLIET
Church History
Early Christian Doctrines, by J. N. D. Kelly (Harper, 1958, 500 pp., $5.75), is reviewed by William C. Robinson, Professor of Historical Theology, Columbia Theological Seminary.
Principal Kelly of Oxford has placed the student of early church history greatly in his debt by this careful and judicious presentation of Early Christian Doctrines. The work covers the period from 100 to about 455. It distinguishes the thinking of the Eastern from the Western parts of the Church, and that from the period of persecution from that after Constantine. The philosophical background in Stoicism and Platonism is exceedingly useful. The work is divided in its treatment so as to present in separate chapters different themes or loci of theology. Such matters as the Church, the sacraments, and eschatology receive fuller treatment than in other texts.
If one dared to offer criticism of a work which he expects to draw heavily upon, it is that the understanding of Hennas Christology ought to be drawn more from the clear parable of the Tower than from the secondary interpretation of the parable of the vineyard, and that Tertullian’s Trinitarianism could be somewhat better understood with a richer treatment of his usage of the Fourth Gospel. The student of patristics will not be without this work.
WILLIAM C. ROBINSON
The Minister’S Handbook
The Minister and His Ministry, by Mark W. Lee (Zondcrvan, 1960, 280 pp., $3.95), is reviewed by Faris D. Whitesell, Professor of Practical Theology, Northern Baptist Theological Seminary.
Do you wish to be more efficient and up to date in the pastoral ministry? If so, you will be glad you read this book. If you are a young theological graduate beginning your first pastorate, this book will save you numerous mistakes.
Designed as “the minister’s complete handbook of professional guidance,” the professor of speech at Whitworth College, Spokane, Washington, also an experienced pastor and preacher, has assembled a vast amount of sound, sensible, solid material on all areas of ministerial life.
To the reviewer, the most helpful chapters were those on the minister in his study, on performing weddings, and on conducting funerals. These chapters are studded with specific information and valuable suggestions. The 21 chapters of the book also cover the minister’s ethics, his relation to the Master, his message, professional growth, dealing with people, handling social problems, the church board, the budget, the church building, conducting services, youth work, special problems, and books.
Professor Lee has slanted his material to pastors of all evangelical denominations, but especially to the nonliturgical groups. His discussions are comprehensive and detailed though somewhat heavy. His style is clear but lacks rhythm, warmth, and fervor. More illustrations from successful ministers would help, and perhaps a few more biblical quotations would add spice.
FARIS D. WHITESELL
Positive Proclamation
The Old Testament Speaks, by Samuel J. Schultz (Harper, 1960, 488 pp., $7), is reviewed by Clyde T. Francisco, Professor of Old Testament Interpretation, Southern Baptist Theological Seminary.
It is refreshing to read a book written by someone who not only respects the faith of Israel but loves its Scriptures. The author clearly takes the position that the original manuscripts of the Old Testament are inerrant, if one understands that often they were written with a world view that was valid at the time of writing. Therein do the biblical writers teach truth without error. Although many scholars would not agree with such a view, and would insist that God can use an imperfect instrument to communicate his word (and man is certainly such a being), it cannot be denied that the result of Schultz’s approach is a positive proclamation of the spirit and purpose of the Old Testament.
One could wish that he had given more credence to the work of literary criticism over the last few centuries. His use of the discoveries of archaeology is extensive, but he cites the work of literary critics only to identify himself with the traditional views of authorship. He allows for no canonical writing after 400 B.C. To him Isaiah is a unity, and no discussion is given to the problem of the authorship of the Pentateuch. Conservative scholars should not fear the discoveries of biblical criticism. The essential battleground is not what human wrote a certain book but the authority of God in the message of the book, whenever it was written. To be sure, Dr. Schultz observes this in his treatment of the Book of Job, but he would do well to recognize the same truth in some of the other more controversial areas.
It appears to the reviewer that the book could profitably be used in our colleges, for it presents basic facts to the student and is carefully documented as a guide to further study. It will not undermine the reader’s faith, although it will give him little help in resolving his doubts.
CLYDE T. FRANCISCO
The Humanist Answer
Literature and Religion: A Study in Conflict, by Charles I. Glicksberg (Southern Methodist University Press, 1960, 265 pp., $4.50), is reviewed by Calvin D. Linton, Professor of English Literature and Dean of Columbian College.
This is an excellent and an appalling book. Excellent, because Warsaw-born, United States-educated Dr. Glicksberg (Professor of English at Brooklyn College) writes with such perception and learning of the haunted condition of modern man, the rebel, the alien, the doomed; appalling, because the picture of despair is so pitilessly painted, and because the dubious light of an outdated humanism is the only alternative at which the author hints.
As stated in the first chapter, the purpose of the book is to study, as it appears in literature, the “dilemma of modern man … who remains alone and apart, marching without a sense of God or direction on a journey the meaning of which he cannot comprehend.”
Drawing on his deep reading and keen critical faculties, Dr. Glicksberg quietly (and somewhat repetitively, since several chapters are overlapping essays previously printed separately) presents his evidence. Sartre, Kafka, Auden, Céline, Colin Wilson, Tennessee Williams, Camus, Jeffers (to pick a handful of names at random) all come forward, with many others, to testify to the lostness of man, to the fact that “never in the history of his race have the intellectuals been so affrighted by the specter of non-being.” After viewing the evidence, Dr. Glicksberg can properly ask, “Is it any wonder that in our time writers, convulsed with fear of the great god Thanatos, have joined in the collective danse macabre?”
It does not suggest a flaw to say that the book, although flavored by humanism, presents no solution. (It is the jacket, not the book, which speaks confidently of a “reasoned humanism.”) The author’s purpose is the Arnoldian one of seeing “the object as in itself it really is.” For himself, he assumes, without argument, that “Christianity … cannot be revived as a practical measure of salvation.” Indeed, theism in any form is unacceptable: “The conception of God fails radically to fit the complex facts of modern experience, to explain why we exist, why there is a universe and not a nothing.… To rely on God and to invoke his sacred name—that is to indulge in a species of fairy-tale magic.” Naturalism has long since taught that “man stands alone and his destiny is at the mercy of time and fate and circumstance. He is a victim, not an immortal soul; a creature of earth and death, not a dweller in eternity; a biological organism doomed to extinction, not a child of God.”
It is in this environment that the writer of the twentieth century must live, and from this doomed air draw his breath. We had not thought that death had undone so many.
CALVIN D. LINTON
World Missions
A Glimpse of World Missions, by Clyde W. Taylor (Moody Press, 1960, 128 pp., $1.50), is reviewed by Harold Lindsell, Professor of Missions, Fuller Theological Seminary.
This is a quick summary and personal report on the mission fields of the world. Taylor is in the Washington office of the National Association of Evangelicals. He has traveled widely and has acquired a stock of information which is not generally available to the average reader. The book is synthetic, interpretative, and statistical. The maps which show the population figures, missionary personnel, and compare the number of workers to national populations are of great help to ministers and laymen generally. For anyone who wants a quick, popular, and fairly reliable summary this is a fine volume.
Unfortunately the book is marred by grammatical defects and poor English, as well as questionable phrases. These should have been corrected by the editors. Examples are legion: here are some: (1) “Korea has been a prime example to the world in the indigenous church development” (pp. 75, 76; (2) “… many of the Japanese are not only Buddhists but worship Shinto (??) as well” (p. 76); (3) Concluding sentence on Formosa, “They have an excellent staff to do the work” (p. 74) has no discoverable antecedent and to whom the author makes reference cannot be determined.
Despite the criticism the volume is readable, interesting, and has valuable insights and information.
HAROLD LINDSELL
Effective Commentary
The Letters to the Philippians, Colossians, and Thessalonians, by William Barclay (Westminster, 1959, 253 pp., $2.50), is reviewed by Ralph A. Gwinn, Associate Professor of Religion, Knoxville College.
Thanks to Westminster Press, Dr. Barclay’s unusual combination of scholarship and popular appeal is becoming as well known in this country as in Scotland where he lectures in Trinity College of the University of Glasgow.
The introductions to each of the biblical books in the volume make exciting reading. In the introduction to the Thessalonian letters, for example, Barclay speaks of Alexander the Great’s divine sense of world mission. “He was almost the first universalist. He was more a missionary than a soldier.…” As Paul approached Macedonia for the first time, an area so impregnated with memories of Alexander, again he “must have thought, not of a country, not of a continent, but of a world for Christ.”
One of the very strong points in Barclay’s comments (the translation of the biblical text is his own, and it is good) is his explanation of Greek words used by the Apostle. Indeed, a defect of the volume is that there is no index of these terms provided for reference.
Many commentaries deal with the text from one particular point of view. Barclay combines effectively the explanation of the text and an application of the text to the reader’s life.
RALPH A. GWINN
Isaiah Speaks?
Isaiah Speaks, by S. Paul Schilling (Crowell, New York, 1958, 148 pp., $3), is reviewed by Edward J. Young, Professor of Old Testament, Westminster Theological Seminary.
The title of this popular work would seem encouraging. Modern negative criticism has so divided Isaiah’s prophecy and denied so much to him that one wonders if it is possible to hear any of his words. One scholar even tells us that we cannot obtain the original words of the prophets. Hence, when we open this book we expect to be confronted with the message of Isaiah, a prophet who lived in Judah in the eighth century before Christ.
But the title is somewhat deceptive, for not only does Isaiah speak but so do other people—a so-called second Isaiah and a third Isaiah. In other words here we have a popularization of the results of a certain type of scholarship. And that is frankly discouraging. If anything in this world is sublime and grand, it is the message of Isaiah the prophet. If anything in this world is dull and trite, it is the book of Isaiah after certain critics have finished with it. And so the little book which we are now considering misses much of the deep and rich truth of Isaiah because it has followed the teaching of a certain type of negative criticism.
Fortunately, the author does not follow consistently the “critical” principles to their logical conclusion, and consequently offers many useful and helpful comments. He writes in a pleasing style and says much of value. At important points, however, one feels that he often misses the true meaning of the prophet. One glance at his treatment of some of the Messianic prophecies proves the case. Isaiah 7:10–17 is not taken as a specific foretelling of the birth of Jesus. We are told that the Hebrew word almah is correctly given in the Revised Standard Version as “young woman.” But if Isaiah had wished to speak of a young woman, why did he not employ the common word na-arah? And we are told that there is a perfectly good Hebrew word, even bethulah, which means “virgin.” Again we must demur. Bethulah would not have been a good word to use at all. Also the wondrous titles of Isaiah 9:6 are said not to designate a “king who is himself divine, but one who, because he is endowed for his task by the Lord, is the human embodiment of God’s kingship” (p. 55). True enough, that is the interpretation of certain critics, but the prophecy calls the Child “Wonderful Counsellor, Mighty God.” There is no reason for departing from the true meaning of the text at this point.
The servant songs are not a prediction of Jesus Christ but “an inspired portrayal of the true meaning of the history of the covenant people” (p. 118). Nevertheless, their deepest meaning is fulfilled in Christ. At this point the author is simply following the present line of criticism which talks much about the servant passages being fulfilled in Christ yet not being direct predictions of him. But the question of the Ethiopian eunuch is still relevant: “Of whom speakest the prophet this?” (Acts 8:34). And there is only one answer. The prophet speaks of Jesus; he was uttering predictive prophecy.
There is much that is good in Schilling’s book, but the author shows no evidence of having grappled with the great problems that abound in Isaiah. He gives no evidence of having worked carefully through the great commentaries. His bibliography contains references only to “liberal” works, with the possible exception of Kissane’s commentary. This is not satisfactory. We want to hear Isaiah speak.
EDWARD J. YOUNG
On Philippians
The Epistle of Paul to the Philippians, by R. P. Martin, (Eerdmans, 1959, $3), is reviewed by Merrill C. Tenney, Dean of the Graduate School, Wheaton College (Illinois).
Compact, concise, and popular is this new addition to the Tyndale series of Bible commentaries by R. P. Martin. Beginning with an introduction to the church at Philippi, the author sketches adequately and lucidly the circumstances which led to the establishment of the church at Philippi, and traces the history of Paul’s relations with the church until the writing of his letter. Although brief, the introduction is full and clear, and its footnotes contain the references that the professional student will want for further investigation.
The body of the commentary is based on an orderly outline which is quite faithful to the text. Comments are given verse by verse, with numbered headings so that any passage can be easily located. The author is acquainted with modern theological and exegetical literature, and makes good use of it. He explains the Greek usage underlying the English translation in such a way that the reader unfamiliar with Greek can profit from his comments.
In treating Philippians 2:5–11 he suggests that the Incarnation means that Christ “could have grasped at equality with God by self-assertion, but declined to do so and embraced rather the will of God in the circumstances of the incarnation and of the cross.” This is a more satisfactory interpretation of harpagmon (2:6) than Lightfoot’s explanation of it as “a thing to be grasped” or retained. Martin is not, however, an Adoptionist in theology, for he says, “In His preexistent state Christ already had as His possession the unique dignity of His place within the Godhead.”
This commentary should have a wide field of usefulness. It is readable, scholarly, and yet not too technical.
MERRILL C. TENNEY
A Gospel Of Despair
The Devil and the Good Lord, by Jean-Paul Sartre (Knopf, 1960, 438 pp., $5), is reviewed by Edward John Carnell, Professor of Ethics and Philosophy of Religion, Fuller Theological Seminary.
This book contains three brilliant plays by France’s leading existentialist. Sartre uses the legitimate theater as a medium to develop the thesis that man’s “being” and “becoming” amount to the same thing. Man does not exist (inwardly and responsibly) until he chooses to out of an autonomous sense of deliberation and ownership. This means that God, like other objective criteria, is a hindrance to selfhood. If God exists, man must choose what God has already chosen for him. Sartre wall have none of this. “You see this gap in the door?” asks Sartre, through one of his main characters. “It is God. You see that hole in the ground? That is God again. Silence is God. Absence is God. God is the loneliness of man. There was no one but myself; I alone decided on Evil; and I alone invented Good. It was I who cheated, I who worked miracles, I who accused myself today, I alone who can absolve myself; I, man. If God exists, man is nothing.…”
If the reader can stomach the blatant irreverence, the wholesale lust, and the cultural and political extremes that are laced into these plays, he will enjoy a rare glimpse into both Sartre’s creative genius and the destructive outworking of a philosophy that disregards the laws of God, and that pictures man as a creature who stumbles through life crying “Invictus!”, but who is bereft of grace and forgiveness, and thus of personal hope. Sartre’s man can only be saved by deliberately remaining lost. This is a gospel of despair, not joy.
EDWARD JOHN CARNELL
Apostle Of Literacy
Thirty Years With the Silent Billion, by Frank C. Laubach (Revell, 1960, 383 pp., $3.95), is reviewed by William A. Smalley, Associate Secretary for Translations, American Bible Society.
Dr. Frank C. Laubach has been called the apostle of literacy. Thirty Years With the Silent Billion is the account of his missionary journeys.
The first eight chapters of Thirty Years With the Silent Billion (nearly one-half of the book) is reprinted with minor changes from an earlier book, The Silent Billion Speak. These chapters portray the development of Laubach’s early experiments with literacy, his early success among the Moros (a greatly feared Muslim group of the Philippines), and the spread of his techniques into India, parts of Africa, and Latin America. The story of these first eight chapters is an absorbing one, the personal account of a great man wrestling through enormous problems to find a workable solution to the need of people around him to learn to read.
The rest of the book is disappointing. It gives the impression of having been hurriedly put together from the diaries of Dr. Laubach’s extensive journeys. It is the year by year itemization of his travels and activities which become more and more routine as they go along. The picture of the missionary grappling with the literacy problem and gradually evolving a technique of operation fades and is replaced by the picture of a globe-trotting promoter chronicling his day by day activity with little selectivity as to what is trivial and what is important. Dr. Laubach describes literacy campaigns, such as the one held in Haiti (p. 141 ff.), with glowing optimism. Actually this campaign was a dismal flop and left the missionary and government forces which were interested in literacy utterly discouraged. Dr. Laubach mentions, for example, that the “American Bible Society furnished 20,000 copies of the Gospel of Mark in Creole, and has asked to provide a second edition of 70,000 copies.” Actually the book involved was Luke; 85,000 copies were printed, and very few have ever been used. Since then a new writing system has been developed, a new translation prepared, and a much more carefully planned literacy campaign is to begin soon.
Literacy has been called the handmaiden of Protestant Christianity. Its apostle is a great man, but unfortunately his sweeping vision of the need of humanity does not always take into account his own limitations. The techniques which he has developed have not been universally applicable in the rigid way he seems to try to make them, although they have been enormously stimulating to workers who have experimented with them. The help which he has given to some literacy campaigns has been pathetically superficial to the point where it has aroused great hopes which have later been dashed to the ground with failure. After the first few chapters (which have been previously published anyhow) the apostle’s followers will get little help from his book.
WILLIAM A. SMALLEY
Evangelical Apologia
The Story of the Church, by A. M. Renwick (I.V.F. London, 1958, 222 pp., 4s. 6d.), is reviewed by Owen J. Thomas, Lecturer at London Bible College, England.
This small volume by Professor A. M. Renwick is more than welcome. It serves two purposes. First, it gives a comprehensive picture of the development of Christianity from Pentecost to the present day, under an aegis and with an emphasis which will reassure evangelical readers that here they have a thoroughly reliable and fair view of it—fair, that is, to evangelicals. Every writing of “history” must have some bias; otherwise it is reduced to a mere reporting of news”—and very stale at that. History, and especially Church history, makes it impossible for us to be impartial observers of it, if only because we are part of it, as inalienable legatees of the past. Merle D’Aubigne is surely right when he criticizes Ranke’s handling of the history of the papacy as, in certain instances, too favourable, though written from a Protestant point of view, simply because he is overanxious to be impartial. There is a polarity about the truth which forces us to be either for or against it. This is above all true in recounting the history of biblical Christianity in the world. We welcome therefore a Church history which is quite unashamed in its conservative evangelical bias.
Then there is another purpose to this excellent little compendium. It serves as an apologia for the evangelical faith, especially in Professor Renwick’s treatment of the modern period. Nonevangelical readers, after they have overcome their initial reaction to its bias, will discover that the evangelical movement is far from being just a coterie of small-minded deviationists. Here it is shown to be as broad as the Church itself in true catholicity, and as intensely loyal to the Word, Written and Incarnate, in true apostolicity.
As for style and method of presentation, we are well served. Such a wide survey in such a small compass demands terseness and clarity. We also behold an admirable example of restraint in the fact that only half as many pages are devoted to the Scottish as to the English part of the Reformation. Moreover, the author’s well-known gentleness of character comes out clearly in his treatment of what to a Calvinistic Scot must be a most distasteful subject. Of Mary Queen of Scots he writes: “The truth is that the young and charming Queen, who could dissemble so easily, was held from childhood in the grip of an evil system. She was a martyr to what she had been taught.” Her life was “surrounded with a pathos which will never be forgotten” (p. 145). His sound judgment is displayed in his brief treatment of the Al-bigenses (p. 98) and the Anabaptists (p. 115).
His treatment of the modern scene is excellent in its perspective. Here the reader can gain a well-balanced view of the main lines of development in the World-Church of today. His analysis of the reason for the Church’s loss of grip on the people is striking. It is refreshing to read a sacred historian who faces up to the evils of the protean complexion of modern Christianity. “Doctrinal chaos,” and “revolt against dogma” are claimed to be responsible for recession in church life. On the other hand, the picture is by no means unrelieved by a vigorous evangelical movement and, above all, as his final words proclaim, by the fact that “the Lord has not forgotten His believing Church in these modern days.” One cannot help adding “and the emphasis is on believing!”
A pocket Church history which all should possess.
OWEN J. THOMAS
