One reaction that the Watergate affair should elicit among evangelicals is fresh thinking on the concept of sin. The participants in the Watergate planning, incidents, and attempted coverups seemed to think they were doing right. Those are the sins that are most troublesome—the ones that occur when we try to do the right thing, or convince ourselves that the way we feel and behave is honoring to God.
Theologians discuss the general concept of sin in the life of the Christian under the heading “sanctification.” Evangelicals agree that justification—our acceptance before God as holy—is based upon the finished work of Christ, received by faith. No merit of our own is sufficient to remove the guilt of our sin. We are pardoned, not acquitted. There is also agreement about “glorification”: in heaven we will, through the grace of God, be sinlessly perfect. But on sanctification there is disagreement.
The evangelicals constituting the Holiness Movement (many if not most of those in the Wesleyan and Quaker traditions, some of Mennonite background, and many Pentecostals) understand the Scriptures to teach that one can be “entirely sanctified” in this life. In the words of the Asbury College creed: “Likewise by faith man’s heart may be cleansed of all sin through the Holy Spirit.” Many other evangelicals think of sin in such specific and momentary terms that they speak of being “in fellowship” with God and without sin, then of sinning and dropping “out of fellowship,” then of confessing the sin and being restored.
To be sure, one can use certain biblical passages to construct a base for such views. But many evangelicals, such as those influenced by the Reformed tradition, find sin to be so pervasive and insidious, so often reflected in permanent attitude as well as in occasional misdeed, so likely to be unsuspected by the sinner, that they interpret the biblical teaching on sanctification to mean a relative rather than absolute attainment this side of heaven. The Westminster Confession declares that “sanctification is … yet imperfect in this life: there abideth still some remnants of corruption in every part, whence ariseth a continual and irreconcilable war, the flesh lusting against the spirit, and the spirit against the flesh.”
But Christians who do affirm the persistence and pervasiveness of sin have their own problems in dealing with it. There is a tendency to wink at it, assert its inevitability, and neglect the repeated biblical command summed up by Peter: “As obedient children, do not be conformed to the passions of your former ignorance, but as he who called you is holy, be holy yourselves in all your conduct, since it is written, ‘You shall be holy, for I am holy’ ” (1 Pet. 1:14–16).
Holiness Christianity, whether in its absolute or its “in and out of fellowship” expressions, can err in failing to confess that which is unholy even in relatively mature Christians. Non-holiness Christianity can confess sin in general but be complacent toward doing anything about its particular manifestations.
We suggest four guidelines for all obedient Christians. First, do not let the increasingly open licentiousness (in, for example, the areas of pornography and promiscuity) lead to an overreaction in which we reinstitute the legalism from which Christ has set us free. Paul scolded the Colossians: “Why do you submit to regulations, ‘Do not handle, Do not taste, Do not touch’ (referring to things which all perish as they are used), according to human precepts and doctrines? These have indeed an appearance of wisdom in promoting rigor of devotion and self-abasement and severity to the body, but they are of no value in checking the indulgence of the flesh” (Col. 2:20–23). The holiness of Christianity, unlike that of much man-devised religion, is not ascetic. Remember that our Lord was criticized because he didn’t practice an ascetic rigor like that of John the Baptist.
Second, resist the constant pressure of materialism and lust for power that so characterize the modern world. It is so easy to rationalize the purchase of a bigger house, a more expensive or additional car, plusher church furnishings. Holiness does not require asceticism, but neither is it likely to accompany lavish spending on what we euphemistically call “creature comforts.” As creatures we can in fact be comfortable with a lot less than most American Christians have.
Third, react against the penchant for secrecy that pervades every corner of life. There is a proper sense of privacy, a proper avoidance of snooping. But the honest person or organization has nothing to hide. That the deeds grouped under the Watergate label and done by some of the highest officials in the land were evil is shown by the great lengths to which these men went to hide their involvement. Paul says, “Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them” (Ephesians 5:11—the guiding verse for investigative journalists and their allies). Although he occasionally and unintentionally publishes incorrect information, columnist Jack Anderson has a good effect whenever an individual or group refrains from taking a questionable action because someone asks, “How will this look in Anderson’s column?” There will in fact come a time when the Lord “will bring to light the things now hidden in darkness and will disclose the purpose of the heart” (1 Cor. 4:5). He who would be holy, as God is holy, is willing to conduct his affairs in the light now instead of waiting until that Day to have his secrets exposed.
Finally, Christians should avoid emphasizing temptations primarily pertaining to youth while neglecting those that come to middle-aged and older adults. The biblical pattern clearly implies that the longer a person is a Christian, the closer he is to conform to the standards of God. Yet too often older Christians set a bad example of materialism, racism, hypernationalism. Or they cause immature Christians to stumble by quibbling over dress or hair styles. To be sure, the cockiness of many young people and their failure to acknowledge any possible wisdom or virtue in their elders needs reproof. The point is that preachers and writers should address themselves not only to the sins of those younger or older than themselves but to the sins of their peers as well.
A serious application of these four guidelines—there are others, of course—will take the Christian a big step toward genuine holiness.
The Religious ‘Wager’
Is opting for Christ a gamble? As Dr. McKenna points out on page four, it is, in a sense. Or perhaps it is a matter of definition.
The source of the well-known reference to Christianity as the ultimate wager was Blaise Pascal, the 350th anniversary of whose birth falls this month (June 19). Pascal tried to show that Christianity was a good bet. That may strike us as a crude apologetic, though some evangelists still use it to appeal for belief. It seems to reflect too skeptical an outlook—do not the Scriptures promise assurance?
Pascal was a profound thinker, but he died at thirty-nine and therefore did not reach the full flower of maturity. He had planned to write a major Christian apologetic. What we know as his Pensées is actually a collection of scribbled notes that he never even got around to organizing, somewhat like Hammarskjöld’s Markings. It is therefore not quite fair to be too hard on the observations the Pensées contain.
Despite his much quoted statements that reason ought not to be counted upon to lead one to Christian faith, Pascal did appeal to the mind. It must be taken into account that his brilliant polemic was in reaction to the extreme rationalism of his day, and that his association with Jansenists brought him into a highly emotional conflict. He was, moreover, primarily a mathematician; hence his fascination with the odds for and against Christianity.
God blessed Pascal with some remarkable insights. Most of these are in the form of aphorisms that are still illuminatingly quotable today.
Breaking The Bank At Atlantic City
At least one of the candidates for the Democratic nomination for governor of New Jersey has expressed approval for the proposal to establish a state-run gambling casino at Atlantic City. The little winners and big losers would be the same as in gambling everywhere, the players, but the inevitable big winner, the “house,” would be the state. It may seem less than appropriate that the state, which has so many traditionally sanctioned taxes by which to mulct its citizens, should also wish to resort to fleecing them in a casino. It can be argued, of course—as it was during the recent establishment of state lotteries in many states—that many people will gamble in any case, that the state will put its “take” to a good cause, and that state-run gambling will cut down the incidence of illegal gambling.
All these things may be true. Yet we wonder about the desirability of making the state a gambling promoter. Perhaps the principle of a state casino is no different from that of the state lottery which we are now compelled to tolerate if not to approve.
Yet there are differences. For example, we have never heard of a gambler committing suicide when his number failed to win in the lottery, but personal disasters are not uncommon at the gambling table. Of course, with the state as proprietor of the casino, the biggest losers can always console themselves with the hope that a bit of what they lose to the state at roulette will come back to them from the state in welfare checks.
What To Do For Dad
Perhaps the best present for the one you’re honoring on Father’s Day is an extra measure of consideration. Many an adult male will testify that the rewards of his dominating role seldom live up to their Women’s Lib billing. He still has needs in body, soul, and spirit that are filled only with the selfless assistance of women and children. He does not want to be pampered or honored so much as challenged in his innermost being, and that takes some special concern.
Jesus, Marx, & Co.?
From the earliest days of political radicalism, recently chronicled by Eugene Methvin in The Rise of Radicalism (Arlington, 1973), Christian churches have generally been very hostile to it. The Eastern Orthodox resisted the Communist revolution in Russia, Roman Catholics have so far helped to impede the triumph of the Marxist left in France and Italy, Lutherans vigorously but unsuccessfully opposed socialism in Sweden, and conservative Protestants are often pictured—perhaps not accurately, as evangelical sociologist David O. Moberg shows—as relentless opponents of liberalism and “progress” in the United States.
At present, however, there is mounting evidence that a large element in the major churches is coming to look with much more favor on revolutionary radicalism, even on that which, being Marxist, is explicitly and energetically anti-Christian. The protracted dalliance with Marxism by prominent elements in “ecumenical” groups such as the WCC and the NCC gives increasing evidence of turning into a common-law marriage, if not actual matrimony.
In a recent study entitled “Christ’s Left Wing” (La gauche du Christ, Paris, 1972), Catholic leftist Jacques Duquesne claims that the lower levels of the Roman Catholic administrative machine have been won over to “the revolutionary struggle”; in his estimation, they sympathize even more with the Maoist extreme left than with the “bourgeois” French Communist party. Referring to priests actually affiliated with the party or engaged in the Maoist struggle, Duquesne comments: “They have already penetrated the church.… The influence they wield … is still weak, but astonishing” (p. 260). Attempting to explain this phenomenon, Duquesne speaks of an attraction-repulsion on the part of Catholics for Communism and “revolution.” The advocates of non-violence and pacifism of yesterday have become high priests of violence today, but, he thinks, in a superficial and unrealistic way—they prescribe violence for Latin America, but hesitate to suggest setting Paris on fire. “In fact,” he writes, “many seem to be ignorant of the real nature of the ‘politics’ about which they talk so much.”
Duquesne in his honesty is harsher than most politically conservative Christians have dared to be: “One who wishes to understand the left-wing Catholic, particularly the extreme left-winger, the Catholic revolutionary, should first of all remember this: the left-wing Catholic doesn’t belong to the family: he is a bastard (this—need I say it explicitly—being written without any pejorative intention).” By this inelegant expression, Duquesne acknowledges the fundamental contradiction inherent in the spiritual genesis of the Catholic (or Christian) radical left. And he thinks it is his mission to live with this contradiction. He observes that the left-wing Catholic is forever trying to win the approval of his new, Marxist family by denouncing his Christian background and engaging in a double standard: “The evangelical inspiration which incites them to denounce the blemishes and injustices of a given society often appears to subside when the question concerns another society.…” Duquesne recognizes the dishonesty involved, but feels compelled to live with it.
The right-wing French Catholic Abbé Georges de Nantes comments, acidly but perhaps aptly, on Duquesne’s plea for today’s Christians to take upon themselves the odium of being “spiritual bastards” in order to promote the revolution: “As in nature, when two species are crossed, the hybrid is infertile. The same is true of the Christian of the left. There is nothing better to say to indicate the shipwreck which will result from such an adventure.”
Training Children
Many a parent has felt disappointment, sorrow, or even anguish over the way a son or a daughter has turned out. Most of us know Christian parents whose children have renounced or spurned the faith in which they were brought up. This seems to happen even in homes where the parents have conscientiously tried to rear their children in a way that is honoring to God. And of course such parents wonder, Where did we go wrong? How did we fail? What did we neglect? Such a situation can produce many a sleepless night.
The sons of Eli the priest “were worthless men,” Scripture tells us. “They had no regard for the Lord.” Eli asked them: “Why do you do such things?… If a man sins against a man, God will mediate for him; but if a man sins against the Lord, who can intercede for him?” (1 Sam. 2:12, 23–25). But “they would not listen to the voice of their father.” When Eli died he was replaced by Samuel, and Samuel had a similar experience with his sons: “They did not walk in his ways, but turned aside after gain; they took bribes and perverted justice” (1 Sam. 8:3).
We are not told whether Samuel was in some way responsible for how his sons turned out. He may have been blameless. Not so in the case of Eli. When young Samuel, who was under Eli’s tutelage, responded to God’s call saying, “Speak, for thy servant hears,” God gave him a message for the old priest: “I am about to punish his house forever, for the iniquity which he knew, because his sons were blaspheming God, and he did not restrain them” (1 Sam. 3:13). Evidently Eli did not do what he should have done in disciplining his sons, and so at least some of the blame for their behavior fell on his shoulders.
Grace does not run in the blood line, of course; unbelieving parents have children who become Christians and Christians have unbelieving children. But the children of believing parents ought to become Christians. If they do not, it may be that the parents failed to do what was required of them to “train up a child in the way he should go.” When Christian parents have done all they can do, they can then rest their case in the hands of God should their children forsake the faith.
