Thielicke Speaks to the Fundamentalists
Between Heaven and Earth: Conversations with American Christians, by Helmut Thielicke (Harper and Row, March 24, 1965, 224 pp., $3.75), is reviewed by Carl F. H. Henry, editor, CHRISTIANITY TODAY.
The colorful personality of Helmut Thielicke and his engaging comment on current issues supply continuity for an otherwise disjointed volume reflecting the Hamburg theologian’s meetings with American Christians. While a lively relevance pervades much of Between Heaven and Earth, these “conversations” often prove to be lengthy excursions with little opportunity for inquiry at the crossroads.
Dr. Thielicke succeeds most in his secondary aim of biting into some current social problems; in his primary aim, to supply effective theological guidance to American evangelicals, he falls far short. He is at his best in the chapter on “Racial Integration and the Christian.” There he recalls that the race issue between Nazi and Jew was a turning point in German history, and reminds Americans how strongly the race question touches the foundations of the Christian faith and the human conscience. Moreover, he summons the churches to be concerned with their spiritual priorities rather than with a one-sided reliance on political engagement (although his highly readable chapter on the Nazi regime is replete with political storm warnings). Thielicke locates the critical element in the American outlook, however, not in racial or political affairs, but rather in a wrong attitude toward suffering—that is, the widespread notion that suffering is fundamentally inadmissible.
On the theological side he lends necessary emphasis to the indestructibility of the divine image in man, the reality of general revelation, the centrality of God’s saving acts consummated in Jesus Christ, the resurrection as constitutive of faith in Christ’s person, and the Holy Spirit’s enlightenment. Only now and then (“Here this faithfulness of God is by no means an anthropomorphic expression for an indifferent metaphysical principle that stands unmoved above the antitheses of faith and unbelief, good and evil, embracing them all beyond polarity”) does Thielicke’s presentation become abstruse.
But Thielicke’s primary objective is to furnish theological guidance to American fundamentalists. “Because the American churches have so many fundamentalists, and because these hold in their hands an essential portion of their spiritual substance, I regard the question of how American Christianity deals with the problem of fundamentalism as nothing short of fateful for its destiny.” Regarding fundamentalists as “much of the best, but frozen, spiritual capital of the church,” he earnestly hopes they will come to terms with these “conversations” and hence proposes that the book be used in study groups. He commends the spontaneous religious interest and concern for practical piety among fundamentalists but is rightly troubled by their neglect of such concerns as the Gospel’s relation to culture, philosophy, and society. Yet in this circle he has found “brothers in the faith” who want “to preserve the substance of the Christian faith,” who are “not infrequently the most dependable and self-sacrificial members of the congregations,” and who have too often been unfairly criticized “from the high horse of Enlightenment.” “If American Christianity loses these people, who are often the most vital members of its body … this could be fatal to its cause.”
Thielicke considers himself as bearing a “special responsibility … with evangelicals and fundamentalists”—and his main aim is to detach them from a commitment to the verbal inspiration and inerrancy of the Bible. He proposes to rescue them from “the dichotomy of their life” and from “many repressions” presumably springing from this commitment. To further this goal he adopts an attitude promotive of dialogue (avoid intellectual arrogance which only hardens positions; reflect the desire in common with them to draw spiritual life from the mighty acts of God; love them, and stress one’s interest in their spiritual good). “They are naive,” says Thielicke, but sincerely so, since their positions spring from a desire to protect their faith; hence discreet dialogue requires reiteration that the proposed alternative is truly pro fidei. What momentarily disarms some of Thielicke’s fundamentalist interrogators is his employment of the attack on verbal inspiration assertedly to support and mature faith and to honor rather than depreciate or relativize the Word of God. In the subsequent dialogue he not only attacks biblical inerrancy and verbal inspiration and champions biblical criticism, but also hedges almost to the point of denial on the virgin birth of Jesus and faintly reflects other turning points of his own theological blend of liberal, neo-orthodox, and evangelical elements.
Thielicke conducts only a running raid on certain fundamentalist positions; he does not clearly reveal his beliefs on substitutionary atonement, bodily resurrection, and Christ’s visible personal return—though the Resurrection is centrally important to his thought. Nor does he present his listeners with a coherent alternative in respect to religious authority. None of Thielicke’s hearers or readers will doubt his vibrant personal faith; all will esteem his role of resistance to the Nazis and admire his effective ministry to university students abroad. But many, interested in the larger framework of his thought, are equally eager to pose counter-questions, and doubt that the truth of God holds adequate place in his system.
In the opening dialogue Thielicke handles the question “Are there errors in the Bible?” evasively; he calls it “a false and oversimplified way of putting the question,” ascribes it to the theological immaturity of the inquirer, and appeals to Jesus’ use of counter-questions to justify his own evasion.
In answer to another question (whether the Bible and the Word of God are identical), he caricatures verbal inspiration as mechanical dictation, as requiring a legalistic view of Scripture, and he depicts reliance on Scripture as a distrust of Christ and a denial of God’s gracious accommodation (hence, in principle, the Incarnation). This line of assault on the high view of Scripture has so often been rebutted in competent evangelical literature that informed conservatives in America are quite immune to it. They frankly concede problems in their view of Scripture, but they are unpersuaded that such difficulties are not greatly multiplied by the modern alternatives.
Thielicke moves from the worthy premise that God meets us in history that is subject to historical study, to rationalistic conclusions that smuggle preconceived critical theories into the scriptural narrative. He finds borrowed elements of pagan myths in the biblical account of Creation and makes the asserted dependence of the Bible writers upon the science of their time a “sign” that God’s Word truly becomes flesh. If for Barthians the Bible is the book through which God speaks, for Thielicke it is the ship in which Christ sleeps. From the fact that sinfulness and self-sufficiency seep into man’s historical work, he concludes that even the content of Scripture is necessarily distorted—rather than stressing that contemporary critics reflect this fallibility and allowing that Scripture is uniquely inspired. For Thielicke, Lessing’s insistence on historical relativism apparently makes the historic evangelical outlook impossible.
Thielicke protests any “caricature” of Bultmann as a heretic, yet freely caricatures verbal inspiration as mere mechanical dictation. He holds that Christianity should not be immunized against Bultmannism, for Thielicke’s intention, like Tillich’s, is the radical contemporizing of the Christian faith. Yet Thielicke considers that the triumph of Bultmann’s theology would be disastrous for the Church, and proceeds to a discerning critique of that theology, criticizing Bultmann’s enclosing himself within philosophy of science with the result that the factuality of Christ’s resurrection vanishes.
Thielicke deplores historical-critical study of the Bible on rationalistic motivations but encourages its pursuit with the motive of discerning what the biblical writers intend to say. Here he distinguishes the means of expression of the biblical writers from their intention, arguing that it would be wrong for us to take over the biblical concepts and presuppositions (as in the Genesis cosmology). Yet for him historical criticism of the Bible assertedly enriches Christian faith by dislodging one’s own presuppositions and allowing Scripture to speak for itself, whereas verbal inspiration levels the Bible by eliminating J, E, P, and D from the Pentateuch!
But historical criticism is not “a method of spiritual discipline which will necessarily lead a person by logical and absolutely sure steps to fullness of faith,” since this is the Holy Spirit’s work. At this point Thielicke properly distinguishes between psychological certainty and historical probability. Nevertheless, for him this spiritual enlightenment of the believer is a matter of spontaneity of faith and does not involve the establishment of an objective external authority. But elsewhere Thielicke criticizes Bultmann because the miracle of the Spirit, instead of merely helping the believer to understand, becomes determinative and supplies the object of understanding.
According to Thielicke, the Virgin Birth is not a dogma constitutive of the person and work of Christ and of Christian confession of him as Lord and hence is of secondary importance. He refuses to make the Resurrection merely a commentary on faith, insisting that it belongs to faith’s foundation. Likewise, “the miraculous birth of Jesus Christ is constitutive of faith in his person; it is the conditio sine qua non for my being able to say ‘Christ is Lord’ ”—he was “conceived by the Holy Ghost.” But the Virgin Birth is not an indispensable condition of belief in the miraculous birth, Thielicke insists. He states that he is uncertain and undecided whether the primitive Church originated the Virgin Birth story. Possibly it is a metaphorical commentary on faith (and Thielicke himself repeats the phrase in the Apostles’ Creed only in this mood). But he buttresses his disbelief of the Virgin Birth narratives of Matthew and Luke by gratuitiously contending that “in John and Paul the entrance of Christ into our humanity is presented in quite a different way,” and by other rationalizations, including a highly distorted appeal to Luther.
Helmut Thielicke is an accomplished scholar and a fascinating preacher, but he is at his best when he is proclaiming the great truths rather than discoursing about his doubts. Perhaps the closure of the space-time gap between the United States and Europe has once again made Machen’s The Virgin Birth of Jesus relevant reading.
CARL F. H. HENRY
Protestants In Russia
The Faith of the Russian Evangelicals, by J. C. Pollock (McGraw-Hill, 1964, 190pp., $3.95), is reviewedby Paul A. Zimmerman, president, Concordia Lutheran Junior College, Ann Arbor, Michigan.
This little volume provides a wealth of material for those interested in the fate of the Christian Church in Russia. On the basis of firsthand information and historical research, J. C. Pollock has provided a moving account of the development of Protestant Christianity in Russia, its severe persecution, and its amazing vitality.
The author, a British clergyman, first sketches the way in which Christianity is repressed by Communism. Although a small measure of freedom to worship is permitted, the scales are heavily weighted against Christians. Atheistic propaganda presents Christianity as an evil brand of unscientific fanaticism. Christians are not free to reply publicly to such attacks. They may not teach openly. They may not carry on mission activity. Every effort is made to discourage faith, to harass members, to stamp out the life of the Church.
Pollock also traces the amazing genesis of the evangelical movement. The beginnings go back 125 years to a Russia under the tyranny of the Tsars and the dead hand of a fossilized Russian Orthodox Church. As a result of the influence of German colonists planted in the Ukraine in the eighteenth century, there arose an irrepressible group of stronghearted people who preached a simple theology of sin and grace. The Russian Baptists emerged as the strongest of several hardy pioneer groups professing the simple faith of the Bible. Others included the so-called Stundists, Pentecostals, and the Seventh-day Adventists.
The Communist revolution in 1917–18 first brought religious freedom to the evangelicals. But the atheistic bias of Communism soon brought repression. Although some tolerance and relief was secured by a decree of Khrushchev in 1954, this was largely reversed in 1963 when atheistic propaganda and pressures were revived.
The reader will note with interest the patriotism of the Russian evangelicals and their comparison of their state to that of the Christians in the Roman Empire in the days of the Apostle Paul. It is interesting to learn that many of them have no quarrel with the Russian economic system. Some groups oppose anything Communistic. Others ask only the right to worship in peace.
The vitality of the Church is painted in words that pay tribute to the faith and endurance of the Christians of Russia. One is thrilled by the raw courage and enduring confidence of these men and women of God. Equally inspiring is the fact that the power of Christ and his Gospel is felt also among the youth. The Church is not dying out. It is alive and growing.
This book is good reading. It makes clear that atheistic Communism will never tolerate the Christian faith. And it makes clearer that even the “gates of hell” will not conquer the Church of Christ. The age and the faith of the martyrs is not a thing of the past!
PAUL A. ZIMMERMAN
Athens Speaking
Christianity and History, by E. Harris Harbison (Princeton University, 1964, 292pp.,$6.50), is reviewed by C. Gregg Singer, professor of history, Catawba College, Salisbury, North Carolina.
This series of twelve essays is divided into two parts: the first six deal with the problems involved in the Christian understanding of history and the last six with the Christian approach to history as shown in the Protestant Reformation. Underlying all is the question Tertullian raised seventeen centuries ago: “What has Athens to do with Jerusalem?” Professor Harbison, well-known historian of Princeton University, seeks to answer this question, which has haunted Christian scholars in all fields of learning from Tertullian to our own day. But as the author explores the relation that binds faith and knowledge, the Church and the university, he arrives at conclusions quite different from those that Tertullian affirmed as guiding principles for Christian thought.
Professor Harbison is quite sure that the Academy has something of value to say to Jerusalem. Knowledge, whether it comes from Athens, Moscow, or Mount Wilson, from Plato, Machiavelli, or even Karl Marx, is of value in itself, and the Church must listen to what pagans, ancient or modern, have to say. Part one treats one question: Is there a Christian philosophy of history? In his answer, Professor Harbison’s willingness to allow Athens to speak to Jerusalem blunts his belief in the possibility of a Christian philosophy of history. At this point he seems to become a skeptic and to deny such a possibility. His conclusion is that the Christian who is also a historian will be known, not by a full-rounded philosophy of history, but by his attitude toward history. The Christian historian will see a divine purpose in history that is only partially revealed, “a destiny which is religious in the deepest meaning of the word, in which human freedom and divine guidance complement each other in some mysterious way” (p. 33).
In part two, which assesses the Reformation, it seems to the reviewer that Professor Harbison misses the real nature of the doctrine of the sovereignty of God in the thinking of the Reformers, and thus fails to differentiate between the voluntarism of the modern totalitarian state and the voluntarism inherent in the Calvinistic doctrine of the sovereignty of God. In fact, the author makes it quite clear that he does not follow Calvinistic theology, in which he was apparently reared, for he accepts the conclusions of critical scholarship and rejects the infallibility of the Scriptures and the doctrine of election. His explanation of the position of Calvin and Luther is far from convincing and quite unacceptable to those who believe that in the Reformation a sovereign God was calling his Church back to those great truths of the Scriptures that lay buried under layers of medieval sacramentalism and sacerdotalism. Professor Harbison insists that Calvin saw the need for disciplining and rationalizing the emancipated religious will and that he accomplished his purpose in his doctrines of the sovereignty of God and divine election. Yet while these doctrines may have been socially necessary in the early sixteenth century, they are revolting to the modern mind. For such reasons the author’s conclusions in the chapter on Calvin’s sense of history fall short of that view of history which is inherent in historic Calvinism.
In this collection of essays the author manifests a burning passion to find a Christian answer to the problem of history; yet he fails to achieve the answer because he allows the Academy to speak too loudly to the theology of the Reformation which he professes to uphold. Nonetheless, the book has much value and expresses many brilliant insights. It reflects the author’s yearning for a Christian view of culture and history and the inability of liberal theology to furnish it. The Academy fails to come to his aid in his search for answers to these crucial questions.
C. GREGG SINGER
Between The Testaments
From the Exile to Christ: A Historical Introduction to Palestinian Judaism, by Werner Foerster, translated by Gordon E. Harris (Fortress, 1964, 247 pp., $4.85), is reviewed by Jakob Jocz, professor of systematic theology, Wyclifje College, Toronto, Ontario.
The author, professor of New Testament at the University of Munster, West Germany, is known to scholars as one of the contributors to Kittel’s Theological Dictionary of the New Testament. The field this book covers has received repeated attention, and it is no longer easy to make an original contribution. Professor Foerster very wisely attempted to write, not a learned work, but a useful one for ministers, teachers, and Bible readers. In this he has largely succeeded. Furthermore, by paying special attention to the Dead Sea documents he has provided us with a wider perspective on the history “between the Testaments.” For his documentation he relies on the traditional sources such as the Pseudepigrapha, Josephus, and Philo. His rabbinic quotations are culled from Strack and Billerbeck’s commentary to the New Testament from Talmud and Midrash. His interpretation of Pharisaism is therefore second-hand and occasionally tinged with prejudice. But on the whole he is a fair critic who tries to be just to the opposite party.
Some problems raised in the book receive no answer, chiefly because none is possible. But the author seems to leave it at that without a word of explanation. Foerster tells us, for instance, that the Samaritans “were circumcised, possessed the Law and yet stood in irreconcilable opposition to the Jews” (p. 40). The reader, naturally, would like to hear his opinion of why this was so, especially since completely alien groups like the Idumeans and Pereans were incorporated into Jewry after their forced conversion.
Similarly puzzling is the statement that the meals of the Qumran community “appear to have been regulated by certain purity rules, judging by the buried animal bones discovered in Khirbet Qumran” (p. 64). If Foerster means that the bones are of animals sanctioned by Mosaic law, he is simply saying the obvious; but if he has something else in mind, then the reader is left guessing.
This reviewer found the most interesting part of the book to be the elucidating remarks on New Testament texts, especially with reference to the historic situation: Acts 5:36 in connection with Theudas the rebel leader; Second Thessalonians 2:4 in connection with Caligula, who ordered his effigy to be placed in the Temple; Acts 21:38 and Mark 13:22 with reference to the “Egyptian Jew” who assumed messianic leadership; Mark 12:14, the question regarding taxes to Caesar; and many others.
The statement that women could not offer sacrifices (p. 127) needs to be qualified, for according to Leviticus 12:6–8 they were under obligation to offer the sacrifices peculiar to women. It is not quite fair to blame the Pharisees for misinterpreting the doctrine of election as if national superiority were not a common human trait (p. 174).
On the whole, the author tends to take rabbinic sayings too seriously and to interpret them as if they were authoritative expressions comparable to the doctrinal statements of the Church. The rabbinic mood varied with the circumstances, and hostility or friendship toward Gentiles depended upon the political condition of Jewry.
The book reads smoothly, though the translator has not always managed to resist the influence of German syntax. At the bottom of page 174 we have a typical German sentence though the vocabulary is English. There are some other minor blemishes: “Lehrschriften” are not “doctrinal writings” in this context but didactic writings (p. 27, n. 11). Nietzsche’s “Lust” means not “desire” but pleasure (p. 29); “novelettish” (p. 33) is an unusual adjective and leaves the reader guessing what is meant.
These few blemishes, however, ought not to detract from the usefulness of the book as a background for the New Testament.
JAKOB JOCZ
Not That Black
Black Religion: The Negro and Christianity in the United States, by Joseph R. Washington, Jr. (Beacon Press, 1964, 320pp., $5), is reviewed by Donald H. De Young, pastor, Elmendorf Reformed Church, New York, New York.
“Separate education facilities are inherently unequal.” The Supreme Court decision of 1954 has brought the rush of a civil rights movement that has blown the fog away from many of the inequalities in American life. The Church has not escaped the judgment. In Black Religion Mr. Washington brings to the door of the Church this verdict: Racially separated churches are inherently unequal.
The author is a Negro with a doctorate from Boston University. He is presently chaplain and assistant professor of religion and philosophy at Dickinson College. The thesis supporting the verdict is that Negro religion not only is organizationally divorced from mainstream Protestantism but is divorced in content as well. In fact, the author insists that the content is so vaguely related that Negro religion should be classified separately along with Protestantism, Catholicism, and Judaism!
Negro “folk religion” is not to be confused with black religion as seen in the Negro church. Folk religion is the spirit of freedom-loving men. It is mainly social, economic, and political, and its highest loyalty is the advancement of the race. As for the Negro denominations, “there is still absent any theological depth to provide meaning beyond the era of protest.” Dr. Martin Luther King is honored as a leader in the folk-religion tradition of civil rights but is considered not to have any real theological influence on Negro religion.
What has happened is summarized on page 234:
Having outlived its usefulness as a community center and never having been permitted to attune its life to the dynamics of the Protestant tradition of the Christian faith, independent Negro religion is a most extraordinary phenomenon. As we have seen Negro religion is an attempt to develop fraternalism in response to paternalism of white Protestantism. Although it intended to imitate Protestantism, it developed solely into racial fellowship with no other reason for existence. The pervasive spuriousness has so confused its interpreters that nearly all have concluded that “the Negro church is an ordinary American church with certain traits exaggerated because of caste.” But the contrary is true. Negro religion was never steeped in the theological, Biblical, cultural and historical reality of Protestantism. Negro religion would wither away were it not for the forces of segregation and discrimination which demand its existence as an option for Negro outcasts.
White Protestant denominations need to face the verdict of this book. In effect it is a Macedonian call to stay in racially changing areas and share the historic faith. We have fled areas with the justifications of “they have their churches.” There are the ridiculous myths like “all Negroes are religious.” It is time we face the tragically detrimental effects of segregation in the Church. The establishment of racial churches was an admission that our faith was not the inclusive structure its Founder had claimed. Not only could it not close the gaps of the world; it even extended and deepened those divisions. In this way the Church becomes another aspect of the world!
Although I accept the validity of this plea for inclusion in the historic stream of the Protestant tradition, I cannot accept the presentation of the Negro church as an institution and fellowship with dynamics completely external to itself. The author describes black religion within the limitations of man and society. But certainly the Holy Spirit does not call a man to Christ purely for protest or negative manifestations in the Lord’s Body! I feel the author lets his ax fall too harshly on black Christianity, limited, frustrated, and distorted as it may be through segregation. It may be that he has lived so close to it that he cannot see the positive gifts the Holy Spirit gives to believers. I have lived within the structures of the white denominations, and I have felt the same disgusting sterility and inadequacy within all the rich tradition, culture, and theology, since all this was so often divorced from the dynamic ethic of application in society. When I came to the inner city I found Negro Christians willing to help me apply some of this rich tradition! Yes, the Negro church needs the white church; but the white church desperately needs the Negro Christian just as much. The book did not emphasize this part of the inequality. The Negro church I have met does have something vital to give.
Whatever measure we want to use, the Church remains the creation of the Holy Spirit. Recognizing this truth, we need each other. Christ is not divided, and even though his Body may be influenced by external forces it is never completely determined by social, economic, and political factors. Yet this book makes a vital contribution to the revolution of our day. “For we are not separate units but intimately related to each other in Christ” (Eph. 4:25, Phillips).
DONALD H. DE YOUNG
Book Briefs
The Heidelberg Story, by Edward J. Masselink (Baker, 1964, 121 pp., $2.50). The story of the birth of the sweetest religious document of the Reformation. Lucid language, good pictures.
Contraception and Holiness: The Catholic Predicament, by Thomas D. Roberts (Herder and Herder, 1964, 346 pp., $5.50). This book is a plea to Roman Catholic authorities, and especially to the Second Vatican Council, to alter the position that contraception is intrinsically immoral.
Last Things First, by Gordon Rupp (Fortress, 1964, 80 pp., $2). Four provocative essays which do many things, always with literary grace.
The Rise of Political Anti-Semitism in Germany and Austria, by Peter G. J. Pulzer (John Wiley, 1964, 364 pp., $5.95).
My Friends, the New Guinea Headhunters, by Benjamin T. Butcher (Doubleday, 1964, 272 pp., $4.95). The story of a missionary who put the conversion of the Papuans far down on the list of his objectives.
A Shortened Arrangement of the Holy Bible (Revised Standard Version), edited by Robert O. Ballou (Lippincott, 1964, 773 pp., $7.95). For the person too busy to read the Bible.
New Hymns for Church and Home, by Leland Merrill Miller (self-published, 1964, 154 pp., $1.95). All the hymn tunes were composed by the author, who also wrote 115 of the 129 texts. Others by such men as Charles Wesley, Kipling, Cowper.
The Teacher’s Yoke: Studies in Memory of Henry Trantham, edited by E. Jerry Vardaman and James Leo Garrett, Jr. (Baylor University Press, 1964, 320 pp., $4.95).
One Small Candle: The Pilgrims’ First Year in America, by Thomas J. Fleming (W. W. Norton, 1964, 222 pp., $4). A fascinating story that begins in London with the Pilgrims’ signing a contract with the crusty captain of the Mayflower and ends with the first Thanksgiving. With repeated looks at those basic problems that confront the beginning of a new nation.
The Wesleyan Bible Commentary, Volume IV: Matthew, Mark, Luke, John, Acts, by Ralph Earle, Harvey J. S. Blaney, and Charles W. Carter (Eerdmans, 1964, 749 pp., $8.95). A good practical commentary on the Bible as seen from the Wesleyan theological tradition.
Paul Tillich in Catholic Thought, edited by Thomas A. O’Meara, O. P., and Celestin D. Weisser, O. P. (The Priory Press, 1964, 323 pp., $5.95). Fifteen essays by about ten Roman Catholics on the thought of Tillich, and an afterword by Tillich himself.
