A Nation In Exile
A History of the Jewish People, edited by H. H. Ben-Sasson (Harvard, 1976, 1,170 pp., $40.00), is reviewed by David E. Aune, professor of religion, Saint Xavier College, Chicago, Illinois.
One of the more popular one-volume histories of the Jews has been Cecil Roth’s A History of the Jews, a book that is objective, scholarly, and dry. A racier and more unorthodox history, one that is professedly partisan, is Max Dimont’s Jews, God and History. Both of these books are now eclipsed by the one edited by Ben-Sasson, certainly the most com prehensive, scholarly, and readable one-volume history of Judaism available in English. Originally published in Hebrew in Israel in 1969 and written by six Israel historians on the faculty of the Hebrew University in Jerusalem, the book makes unpretentious use of the most recent archaeological and historical research or Israelite-Jewish history.
Many evangelicals have a general notion of the outlines of Israelite history of the biblical period through an acquaintance with the Old Testament and have a sketchy knowledge of the history of the modern State of Israel as presented through the news media. Few have more than a rudimentary idea of the history of the Jews from the Hellenistic-Roman era through the early part of the twentieth century. Since the survival of the Jews culminating in the formation of the modern State of Israel is nothing short of a miracle, those who have any deep interest in the Old Testament and Judaism owe it to themselves to fill in the blank spaces by reading this history of the Jews.
Portions of the book that will be of special interest to evangelicals are A. Malamat’s survey of “Origins and the Formative Period” (beginnings through the kingship of Saul), A. Tadmor on “The Period of the First Temple, the Babylonian Exile and the Restoration,” and M. Stem’s “The Period of the Second Temple” (the exilic period through the destruction of Jerusalem in A. D. 70). The perspective of each of these sections might be described as “moderate historical criticism”; the authors generally find themselves more in agreement with the approach represented by such American Christian scholars as William Foxwell Albright, John Bright, and G. Ernest Wright than with the radical criticism associated with such German scholars as Albrecht Alt and Martin Noth. (For a glimpse of the debate between these schools, see John Bright’s Early Israel in Recent History Writing.) The “fundamentalist” approach to biblical history represented by the great Jewish historian Yehezkel Kaufman is studiously avoided in favor of an approach that sees genuine history mingled with anachronism. In contrast to Stem, Malamat and Tadmor tend to neglect the religious and social history of Israel by giving their attention almost wholly to politics.
S. Safrai’s survey of “The Era of the Mishnah and Talmud (70–640) is superb, and the editor’s section on “The Middle Ages” is magnificent. Incidentally, Ben-Sasson’s survey should serve as an antidote to that residual anti-Semitism which continues to afflict conservative Christians, for he shows that the trends in economic and social life throughout large segments of medieval Judaism were frequently determined through the enormous pressure exerted on Jews by Christian states and church authorities. S. Ettinger’s survey of “The Modern Period” is generally excellent, though in many respects it is for me the most disappointing section of the book. Because of Ettinger’s exclusive focus on the political history of modern Judaism (before 1948, Judaism constituted a nation in exile), the enormous contributions and developments within American Judaism are almost totally passed over. While Ettinger discusses the development of Reform Judaism in Germany, nothing is said of the blossoming of Reform in America under such leaders as Isaac Mayer Wise and Kaufman Kohler (neither is so much as mentioned). Nor, for that matter, does Ettinger discuss the development of the uniquely American Conservative Judaism in the early twentieth century under such leaders as Solomon Schechter. Perhaps more understandably, no reference is made to Mordecai Kaplan, the brilliant but erratic “founder” of Reconstructionist Judaism. (Such developments in American Judaism are superbly discussed in Gilbert S. Rosenthal’s Four Paths to One God.) More perplexingly, the religious developments of Judaism in modern Israel are ignored; the secularity of a majority of modern Israelis is nowhere discussed, nor is the domination of traditional orthodoxy under both Israeli law and the watchful leadership of the chief Sephardic and Ashkenazic rabbis.
The character of this volume has apparently been determined by two factors: (1) it was published in Hebrew in Israel for Israelis (very few of whom are American immigrants), and (2) Judaism is implicitly defined, not as a religion, but as a nation in exile. Because of this second factor, many of the religious features and developments of Judaism were ignored. American Judaism has been largely characterized by religious diversification and development, and so Ettinger, writing on the modern period, passed over it. One motif that runs through the entire volume is the constant Jewish presence in Palestine, a presence that is important to Israelis and functions as an implicit justification of Jewish history after 1948. The book concludes with a twenty-six-page classified bibliography that focuses on Jewish writings about their history.
Despite the reservations I have expressed, I consider the book a rare achievement in popular historiography. It belongs in every religious library.
Reality Of The Resurrection
Space, Time and Resurrection, by Thomas F. Torrance (Eerdmans, 1976, 193 pp., $5.95 pb), is reviewed by Ray S. Anderson, associate professor of theology, Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, California.
If this book is not easy to read, the reason is not simply that Torrance has a tendency to create a word jungle in which even those accustomed to his plunges into dense foliage must draw back to look about for a fresh start. No, the difficulty is one of thinking, not merely of communicating. And this book is about thinking theologically, and thus correctly, about the very structures of reality that bind our created world and us as creatures to the mind and heart of the Creator.
The distinguished professor of Christian Dogmatics at the University of Edinburgh here continues his brilliant, if at times pedantic, exploration into the philosophical and scientific basis of theology. Using the resurrection of Jesus Christ as the fulcrum, Torrance applies the lever of inner logic as discovered within the historical revelation of God and seeks to move the world. And if we feel the earth shifting beneath our feet, it may be that our own “ground of certainty” is being challenged for the sake of a new and more promising alignment.
Make no mistake about it: Torrance is not seeking to justify the concept of resurrection to the contemporary mind. Rather, he is seeking to bring the contemporary mind, with its hopelessly subjectivizing and solipsistic tendencies, into conformity with the concept of a historical and bodily resurrection. Torrance does not argue for the credibility of a bodily resurrection; he assumes it, or biblical grounds, with no equivocation.
Conservative evangelicals who are seeking support for a completely historical resurrection of Christ will be satisfied and encouraged. Torrance dismisses as docetic the attempts to minimize the bodily aspect of Christ’s resurrection, and he charges that attempts to redact the resurrection accounts into an “Easter faith” are reductionistic and constitute “another gospel” that is anathema to the true Gospel. However, evangelicals may get more than they bargained for in this book. Torrance makes no apology for taking revelation seriously, and in taking the resurrection seriously, he wants us to think out the entire theological agenda on the same terms.
Turning to what he calls “uncritical epistemological assumptions,” Torrance, in his introduction and again in the final chapter, spells out the terms of a scientific theology that is rigorously controlled from the side of its object, rather than from the side of the human subject. The resurrection posits the grounds on which it is to be believed, argues Torrance, and thus confronts us with a “dynamic ontology” that stands objectively behind all theological thinking and language. The interaction of the Creator’s being with creaturely nature through the incarnation makes all dualistic schemes, whether epistemological or cosmological, untenable and illegitimate. Hence, argues Torrance, there is no mythological or eschatological gap between revelation and history, with its corresponding non-cognitive idea of revelation requiring a “leap of faith.” Indeed, perhaps the strongest statement Torrance has ever made concerning the cognitive and thus rational content of divine revelation comes at the very outset of his book: “If God really is God, the living Creator of us all, not only is he intelligibly accessible to our understanding but actively at work within the world revealing himself in cognitive ways to those whom he has made for communion with himself. Divine revelation and intelligible content belong inseparably together.” This is no passing nod toward American evangelicals concerned for propositional revelation. This same unequivocal assertion underlies the entire book and opens up a new discussion within Barthian theology about the place of a natural theology in which the integrated cosmic structure of divine creation and redemption as given in the incarnation lies at the heart, as four-dimensional geometry is now placed at the heart of physics. If I understand Torrance correctly, he is saying that divine revelation, as the co-efficient of created rationality, is accessible and knowable on the same terms as all creaturely knowledge—that is, in terms of its own order of being. In an interesting anecdote recounted in the preface, Torrance recalls that Barth himself admitted to agreeing with this just before his death in 1968.
Filmstrips
The Man for Others from Thomas S. Klise (Box 3418, Peoria, IL 61614) is a superb rendering for children of the story of Jesus from birth to resurrection. The art, though stylized, is outstanding. With the background music and text carefully integrated, this set of four filmstrips will affect children positively toward Christ. But one would never know it from the catalog description. An evangelical reading it would dismiss out of hand. The catalog, in an almost incomprehensible statement, declares this series “… is not the ‘story of Redemption’ that we are concerned with here—doubtful as we are that little children can handle the ‘story of Redemption’. It is rather the story of Bonhoeffer’s Jesus …” It is likely Klise wrote the blurb himself. He needs a new catalog writer. A better “life of Christ” for children can hardly be found, especially as that life has meaning “for us.” As Klise retells the story, he is eminently true to Scripture. His catalog is inexplicable.
God is “like that” is the beautifully scripted and illustrated answer of four filmstrips from the same producer for 4–7 year olds, titled Religious Awareness. It is based on the latest accepted child psychology and, as the guide correctly asserts, “the filmstrips are not non-denominational but richly transdenominational.… for and open to Catholics, Protestants and Jews.” Prayer for children is the theme of the four part sequel to the above, Growing in Awareness. Designed for 6–8 year olds, this “praying to God is like …” series will surely teach children the significance of these four elements of prayer: petition, at-one-ment, gratitude, and adoration. A beautiful piece of work.
A really effective filmstrip that gets beneath the skin and into the heart of junior age children and enables them to turn toward Christ is Who Cares? produced by Scripture Press (1825 College Ave., Wheaton, IL 60187). The audiovisual is a keen blend of both; the audio features unaffected children’s voices, and the visual includes a variant of the spoken text that reinforces the overall impact of the message. A nice addition is the reverse side of the cassette, which has some complementary teaching. The “extras” include an attractive take-home booklet, and theme music.
Little children will love this treat, The Little Stars of Bethlehem, which are talking stars talking about Baby Jesus. This cartoon comes from Contemporary Drama Service (Box 457, Downers Grove, IL 60515). It’s hard to believe that anyone would want to show any of the six silent, captioned filmstrips offered by Encyclopaedia Britannica (425 N. Michigan Ave., Chicago, IL 60611). The set, Christmas Stories, might be useful to a group of children who can’t hear. “Christmas Through the Ages”, the only religious filmstrip, could have been quite interesting if it had sound. The rest are Dickens, Hans Christian Andersen, and other favorite stories. A sheer delight, which could become an annual tradition in church or home, is the version by Alba House (Canfield, OH 44406) of Margery Williams’ classic The Velveteen Rabbit. Perfectly told, and visually pleasing.
DALE SANDERS
Portland, Oregon
But precisely at this point an obscurity enters that I suspect will cause the argument to go out of focus for many theologians committed to a more thomistic strain of natural theology. When Torrance speaks of the total “objectivity” and otherness of divine revelation, even in its integration with our time and space, it would appear that the cognitive connections for which he has so forcefully argued disappear. What is this “objectivity” that Torrance maintains must be the critical point of reference for all epistemology?
I am convinced, from my own struggle to maintain a transcendent pole to divine revelation while coming to it as radically historical, that the most critical issue for evangelical theology lies in the epistemological presuppositions that are brought to the theological task. If one is operating on the basis of a pre-critical and pre-Kantian form of rationalism that posits the human subject as the primary agent in knowing, then that which is assertable as universal truth by the human mind is considered to be “objective,” hence absolute. However, if one comes as a neo-Kantian, with an epistemological dualism between phenomenal events (which can be directly experienced) and noumenal realities (non-experienced and thus non-historical events), one is reduced to either agnosticism or existentialism. For the Cartesian rationalist, all talk of objectivity that lies beyond and outside the control of the human mind is hopelessly irrational and “subjective.” This presupposition brings the conclusion that all talk of divine revelation “positing itself’ is non-cognitive, a case in point being the misleading inferences drawn by the reviewer of my book, Historical Transcendence and the Reality of God (Eerdmans, 1975), in the November 19, 1976, issue of this magazine.
However, what Torrance relentlessly forces us to see in his book is that one cannot mark off the epistemological framework of the resurrection from that of the crucifixion, or the incarnation and historical life of Jesus, for that matter. It simply will not do to have a natural theology that can account for the historical life and death of Jesus and an “unnatural theology” that approaches the resurrection as a qualitatively different phenomenon. Pannenberg has at least seen the inconsistency of that and seeks to bring the resurrection totally within the methodology of the historical critical method. However, for the sake of consistency Pannenberg may have surrendered too much of the eschatological nature of the resurrection itself.
The resurrection must be theologically as well as exegetically understood, Torrance maintains, and fruitfully used to reveal to us the inner coherence of the incarnate person, life, and atonement of Jesus Christ. This he proceeds to do in the main body of this book. With an opening chapter on the biblical concept of the resurrection, he considers in order, the resurrection and the person of Christ, the atonement of Christ, and the ascension and parousia of Christ.
Taken seriously, and there is no other way to take it, this book will cause thoughtful reflection upon the very nature and possibility of our knowledge of God. But even more, it will convincingly and refreshingly bring the mind to consider Jesus, the author and finisher of our faith. Certainly it is difficult. But it will be worth the next ten books you were going to read because you already knew what they were saying.
The Life Of Tillich
Paul Tillich: His Life and Thought, Volume I: Life, by Marion and Wilhelm Pauck (Harper & Row, 1976, 340 pp., $15.00), is reviewed by Lewis Rambo, assistant professor of psychology, Trinity College, Deerfield, Illinois.
Paul Tillich’s contemporary significance lies in the fact that he courageously lived through the struggles of modernity—with its secularization, meaninglessness, and chaos—and at the same time sought to address his fellow human beings with the Christian message as he understood it. Criticisms of Tillich’s theology abound, but few can deny that his life and thought had a fierce integrity. Tillich understood the currents of modern life—its art, philosophy, history, and literature—and challenged its values with an interpretation of Christianity that he deemed substantial enough to ward off the anxiety, aimlessness, and folly of secular thought. Tillich’s position “on the boundary” between religion and the world enabled him to speak in ways that resonated with people on both sides and provided creative answers to the perplexities of many seekers for truth.
This biography is based upon extensive interviews with friends, students, and colleagues of Tillich in addition to documentary resources such as letters. The authors divide the book into seven periods: Tillich’s childhood and education (1886–1914), his experiences as a chaplain during World War I (1914–18), the chaotic period following the war (1919–24), the maturation of his thought at Dresden and Frankfort (1924–33), the anguish of personal loss because of the Nazis and his move to the United States (1933–39), his wartime work with refugees and the rise of his popularity in the United States (1939–55), and the culmination of his Systematic Theology (1955–65).
The Paucks neither sensationalize (as in the case of Hannah Tillich’s From Time to Time) nor minimize the failings of Paul Tillich. Tillich’s infidelity to his wife, Hannah, is portrayed with candor, but in the context of his whole life and his tortured relationship to her. Indeed, Tillich’s anguished guilt over sexuality is stressed as much as the tentative sense of liberation that he derived from sexual experimentation. More significantly, Tillich’s capacity for friendship and for childlike vulnerability to others is admirably described. Without minimizing or justifying Tillich’s faults, the authors give one a sense of the conflict in him, and this helps one empathize with his all too human behavior. Those seeking ad hominem arguments against Tillich’s theology will not be satisfied if they read this book in the spirit in which it was written. The overall impression it gives of Tillich is that of a man with enormous energy, ambition, and ability seeking to forge a viable theology in the midst of social disruption, philosophical malaise, and personal suffering and striving.
Assessment of this biography is difficult in that Volume II may provide information and interpretations that compensate for deficiences in Volume I. I feel that an integration of Tillich’s life and thought would have been better than the Paucks’ stated separation: “Volume I depicts Tillich’s life against the background of his thought. Volume II analyzes his thought against the background of his life.” Such a strategy may nullify Tillich’s own selfinterpretation expressed in his autobiography On the Boundary. Until Volume II is published, we will have to be content with a biography that, though it gives us a richly textured portrait of Tillich’s life and times, largely neglects the desire that was the driving force of that life: to create a philosophical theology that would be comprehensive and compelling for the modern mind.
The Church: Catholic And Apostolic
The Church, by G. C. Berkouwer (Eerdmans, 1976, 438 pp., $9.95), is reviewed by Donald G. Bloesch, professor of theology, Dubuque Theological Seminary, Dubuque, Iowa.
In this significant work on the church, Berkouwer discusses apostolicity and catholicity. Every church should seek continuity with the ecclesiastical and biblical traditions as well as universality in its outreach, he says. At the same time he warns against misunderstanding catholicity and hence striving for world domination in the name of Christ. The continuity of the church, he says, must be seen not in its offices but in its fidelity to Jesus Christ. A catholic and apostolic church will be one that reaffirms and proclaims the apostolic message as declared in Holy Scripture.
Berkouwer also affirms the infallibility and holiness of the church but with important qualifications. The church is infallible because its Lord and the message he speaks are infallible. The church is holy because it is covered by God’s sanctifying grace. It must not claim inherent purity on the basis of its membership, since the empirical church is composed of sinners, albeit sinners who have been justified and redeemed.
In his treatment of the marks of the church, Berkouwer maintains with the Reformers that the dominant mark is the Word of God, proclaimed and received by the company of the faithful. Another hallmark is involvement in mission, not only through kerygmatic proclamation but also through self-giving service to the dispossessed. By identifying itself with the despised and forsaken of this world, the church removes false stumbling blocks to the faith and thereby prepares the way for the reception of its Gospel.
Berkouwer sees a place for apologetic defense of the faith but only if it respects the self-authenticating quality of the Word itself. He rejects an apologetics that seeks to establish an independent truth claim for the Gospel. The truth of God, he says, must not be “delivered into the grasp of human, testing rationality.” He repudiates a priori, preparatory verification of the Gospel. For him “the gospel does not penetrate into life apart from touching the heart through the truth of the gospel itself.” He maintains that circular reasoning is required in any effort to press the claims of faith upon the world.
At the same time he insists that faith should not be thought of as blind obedience, for this reduces it to a meritorious work. The Gospel does not demand a sacrifice of the intellect; it carries its own evidence. Faith is an acknowledgment and commitment that are made practically inevitable by the compelling power of the Gospel itself.
As a true Reformed theologian, Berkouwer acknowledges that because it is deformed by human sin, the empirical church is in constant need of reformation. But those who seek reform can legitimately criticize the church only from the inside, in solidarity with their brethren who are both righteous and sinners at the same time.
Berkouwer sees the importance of hierarchy and office in the church as well as charismatic gifts. He is critical of those who seek a fellowship of love ruled directly by the Spirit. The Spirit works through human means and mediators. There is a place for representative authorities who are specially empowered and anointed by the Holy Spirit for leadership roles; their task, however, is not to dominate or rule in an arbitrary fashion but to serve.
Berkouwer reveals in this book a definite affinity to Karl Barth, as well as to the theology of the Reformation and the Dutch Calvinism of Kuyper and Bavinck. His emphasis on the universal outreach of salvation and faith as an answer to a salvation already completed strikes one as similar to what we find in Barth. He insists that salvation oversteps all boundaries; but does it transcend even the circle of faith (as he also implies)? He refuses to see faith as a condition for salvation because then it becomes a meritorious work. In his view, the cause of salvation is the free mercy of God alone. Yet can we not speak of faith as an instrumental cause and therefore as a requirement for the fulfillment of salvation in individual lives?
Berkouwer perceives the duty of the church to speak out against heresy, but it would have been helpful for him to delineate some of the heresies that threaten the church today. He does discuss Karl Rahner’s concept of the anonymous Christian, but it seems that he tries to see only the truth in this notion and is not sufficiently aware of its perils.
This book can be highly recommended for its firm evangelical and biblical commitment as well as its ecumenical vision. Berkouwer is a theologian who must be taken seriously by both evangelicals and ecumenists. The questions that he raises often challenge long cherished notions of what the church is, but he rightly reminds us that church tradition must ever be subordinate to biblical authority and that the Spirit constantly causes new light to break forth from God’s holy Word.
