Blasting Bible Believers
Fundamentalism, by James Barr (Westminster, 1978, 379 pp., $7.95 pb), is reviewed by William W. Wells, assistant professor of religious studies, University of Hawaii, Hilo, Hawaii.
Fundamentalism can be recognized by three traits: a strong emphasis on the inerrancy of the Bible, an intense hostility to modern theology and the modern critical approach to the Bible, and a deep conviction that those who do not share this point of view are not in fact true Christians. So writes James Barr, the Oriel Professor of the Interpretation of Holy Scripture at Oxford. However, since Barr lives in England where party labels differ slightly from those used in the United States, American readers will have to adjust their vocabulary somewhat. As he uses the term, fundamentalist designates a position somewhat to the left of American fundamentalism; he does not at all intend to limit his discussion to the theological and social perspectives associated with Bob Jones and Carl McIntire, for example, although both men are mentioned briefly. So American readers can and probably should substitute conservative evangelical wherever Barr uses fundamentalist. And since Barr does use the former designation occasionally as a rough synonym for fundamentalist, I will do the same and alternate between the two terms here.
Barr claims that his work is a study of fundamentalism, not an exposé; the bibliographical notes would seem to bear out that claim. The list of authors quoted or referred to in one connection or another reads like a “Who’s Who of Anglo-American Evangelicalism.” But in spite of the author’s avowed intention, Fundamentalism is an angry book. Barr is deeply offended by the conservative position in general and by conservative opposition to the higher critical approach to the Bible in particular. He keeps his anger in check most of the time, but charged language and a biased perspective occasionally break past his attempt at scholarly objectivity. Consequently, some readers will be offended by the book. Nonetheless, the work deserves a careful reading. Given the extent of his research, the quality of his sources, and the cogency of at least some of his arguments, his critical appraisal of the conservative perspective should not be ignored.
Because of the importance of Professor Barr’s book, we are devoting much more space to it than customary. Not only do we have a long review in our regular Books section, but Carl F. H. Henry begins in this issue (see page 22) the first of three articles discussing the book in depth.
Barr’s basic thesis can be stated briefly. Fundamentalists tend to view the Christian community in terms of two important contrasts: real Christians versus nominal Christians, and conservative Christians versus those who accept the higher critical approach to the study of the Bible. According to Barr, most fundamentalist leaders believe that the use of the higher critical method has undercut biblical authority and created a generation of nominal Christians. Furthermore, they believe that churches that defend inerrancy and oppose higher criticism will tend to be filled with true Christians as opposed to nominal Christians. The doctrine of inerrancy is essential, therefore, as a bulwark against the inroads of higher criticism. From a longer perspective, inerrancy guards against the growth of nominalism in the church.
In his second chapter Barr offers a mini-fundamentalist theology; the topics covered include sin, salvation, the atonement, the nature of Christ, faith, justification, forgiveness, the church, the priesthood of all believers, prayer, evangelism, missions, eschatology, and the Scriptures. His analysis is accurate; with the exception of the smirk that, unfortunately, does show between the lines on occasion, the perspective that he describes reflects the preaching heard in most conservative churches. But most of the topics just mentioned are quickly dropped, as Barr devotes most of his book to analyzing and criticizing the conservative doctrine of the Scriptures and conservative opposition to higher criticism and modern theology. Barr’s book is not then a broadly conceived study of fundamentalism. He provides little historical background and almost no sociological analysis. He limits himself to the central elements of the fundamentalist belief structure—as he perceives it.
While Barr makes it crystal clear that the fundamentalist rejection of the higher critical approach to the Bible deeply offends his intellectual sensibilities, yet at the same time he recognizes that the problem goes deeper than that.
“All of these are in fact side-issues, and in the following sense: even if as a matter of historical opinion, critical scholars were to come around to the most conservative opinion on all these points, the situation would not be altered one whit.… Thus the whole elaborate apparatus of conservative apologetic for early date, traditional authorship, avoidance of source divisions, and the like, though we have here done it the courtesy of discussing it, is a waste of time. The issue lies elsewhere” (p. 159).
The deeper issue, as he sees it, is the doctrine of inerrancy. Inerrancy functions as an axiom; the persistent opposition to the critical approach to the Bible is only its corollary. So while it is the rejection of biblical criticism that sticks in his throat, he will grant that the real issue is the doctrine of the Bible. I would suggest, however, that his analysis stopped short of the real issue.
The real issue in fundamentalism is not the doctrine of inerrancy. It is an attitude toward the Bible. The way the fundamentalist reads the Bible shows that he expects to hear God’s counsel and command in it. The fundamentalist reads the Bible as God’s Word. Consequently he tries to listen humbly and obediently. In contrast, much of the critical work of the last century or so seems to the fundamentalist or conservative evangelical to be a form of hubris. The critic does not read the Bible with care in order to be more in tune with what God has said to his people through his prophets and apostles. Rather, he analyzes and studies as a mere academic, as one who is detached and supposedly objective. The Bible is for him an interesting, but ancient, and therefore a merely religious document of questionable contemporary relevance. Now this conservative perception of the critical scholar may be an unfortunate generalization; but it is not without some justification. During the last 100 years or so, critical works have often appeared that analyzed the source of an idea in terms of its ancient cultural background only to discount that concept or command as irrelevant to the modern period. And that perspective is the real issue at stake. The conservative scholar acknowledges that some of the Bible is obscure and that careful scholarship may be demanded of him before the Bible can speak as God’s Word. But he believes that the Bible is God’s Word even before it speaks to him as an individual. And that is why the interpretive effort is deemed to have value. The conservative is reverent before the text. He does not, of course, worship the text. The charge of bibliolatry is false. But he does reverence the text because it is where God speaks to him. The doctrine of inerrancy is derivative; it is one way of articulating that basic attitude toward the Bible. And it is the attitude of reverence that often seems to be missing in critical scholarship.
Barr chides evangelical groups such as Inter-Varsity Christian Fellowship for their concern to find “sound” speakers and preachers. His attitude toward the evangelical concern to utilize literature produced by sound writers and publishers is similar. In his mind, it is an attempt to hide from non-conservative approaches to the Bible. He misses the fact that the evangelical community is a faith community committed to listening to God’s Word. It must of necessity be skeptical of speakers and writers who set themselves up as judges of God’s Word. The opinion of those who lack the humility to place themselves in subjection to God’s Word is inherently suspect.
Professor Barr admits that “the insistence on Biblical accuracy in historical matters could then be taken (to borrow Jewish terminology) as a ‘fence around the Torah’ of theological correctness. Though it is possible to interpret the situation in [that] way …, it is more probably, in my opinion, that it should be read in the other way. Fundamentalists put historical or literary information and theological assertions all on the same level, indeed in a sense the historical and literary information is the more important” (p. 70). In my opinion, he is wrong. It is precisely the conservative theological stance that Barr himself described early in the book that is at stake. Barr confesses to being confused by the fact that evangelicals oppose the Roman Catholic Church in spite of the fact that the two groups maintain similar positions regarding the inspiration of the Bible. Yet that stance is entirely consistent. The doctrine of inspiration is not the core value. The core value to the evangelical is rather God’s revelation of the Gospel of Jesus Christ that is found by listening reverently and carefully to the Bible. Evangelical opposition to Catholic theology over the way that one receives the gift of salvation is evidence that neither inspiration nor inerrancy is the bottom line.
Barr admits that a case can be made for the position that holds that fundamentalists are “only conserving and preserving the faith that has been there always.” But he considers that case a weak one.
“… [I]t is not Fundamentalism, but the main stream of modern theology, including its involvement in critical biblical scholarship, that really stands in continuity with classical theology, whether of the Bible, the Fathers, the Reformers or the period after the Reformers and coming up to the beginning of modern times” (p. 184).
Barr points out that one could believe that the sun circled the earth prior to the Copernican revolution, but that it has been impossible to hold that position without a sacrifice of the intellect since that time. He argues that a revolution has occurred during the last 150 years that makes it impossible to continue to hold the theology of the Reformers. “… [M]odern theology and the critical study of the Bible have initiated, and are initiating massive changes in the way in which Christians understand God and Jesus Christ” (pp. 185–86). He claims that continuity is with those who acknowledge the revolution in biblical criticism and modern theology. However, the evidence he advances is not from the field of theology but almost entirely from the field of biblical criticism. Again, his case is unconvincing.
It is true that there is a greater appreciation of the humanity of the Christ today than there has been in the past. And it may in fact be true that the critical study of the Old and New Testament can justifiably claim part of the credit for that shift in perspective. But the foundation for that realization was laid in the early church council of Chalcedon, not in the modern German universities. Furthermore, some of the changes in perspective associated with modern theology and biblical criticism involve a repudiation of the theology of Chalcedon, and in those cases conservatives will rightfully deny that modern theology is in continuity with the Reformation; they will continue to proclaim the orthodox faith enunciated first at that early council.
Barr chides evangelicals for being more concerned about the reality of the events described in the Bible than about the significance of those events. He seems to have missed the point. Some who would defend the critical point of view deny the reality of the central salvific events. Conservatives, in contrast, would argue that it is foolish to talk of the significance of the resurrection of Christ, for example, if that event did not in fact occur. Again we see that the bottom line is neither an implacable opposition to higher criticism nor the defense of inerrancy. The Gospel itself is at stake.
In sum, I find myself thoroughly at odds with the central thesis of Barr’s book. At the same time, he makes several points along the way that demand some serious thought and consideration.
Barr delights in pointing out that the effort to defend inerrancy has at times been ludicrous—at least to an outsider. He smiles at the contortions conservatives go through in their attempt to harmonize parallel accounts of the same event. The accounts of Hagar and Ishmael (Gen. 17 and 21) are a favorite of his. In his opinion, it is the critical scholar who takes the actual words of the text seriously, not the conservative. He observes—correctly, I think—that conservatives often resort to special pleading in order to make things come out right. Is it not possible, he asks, that the evidence of the biblical text itself lends support to the critical point of view. He quotes an evangelical writer who admits that the writer of the Chronicles may have used faulty source material. If that is the case, he observes with a chuckle, then inerrancy merely guarantees a faultless copy of an errant source. I would venture to say that a position that can be the butt of such jesting needs more theological work. In particular, more convincing solutions need to be found for many of the problem passages if the doctrine of inerrancy is to stand up under the challenges currently being raised.
But Barr is most persistent in demanding that conservatives look again at their opposition to the critical approach to the Bible. In his opinion, that approach could be assimilated by conservatives without major changes in their doctrinal presuppositions. He correctly points out that the previous generation rejected the four-source theory of the Gospels that is now widely accepted in conservative circles. Why, he asks, cannot conservatives likewise acknowledge the documentary hypothesis for the origins of the Pentateuch as a possible solution to some of the internal problems of the text? Conservatives need not accept that hypothesis; he merely asks conservatives to acknowledge that the documentary hypothesis is no more at odds with inerrancy than the source theory of the Gospels is. True, there are differences between the two theories. But are those differences significant enough to justify wide acceptance of source criticism in the Gospels and implacable opposition to source criticism in the Pentateuch? The only significant difference between the two cases is the fact that Jesus seems to attribute the Pentateuch to Moses. And that leads me to examine one of the most cogent sections of Barr’s book: his discussion of what he terms “maximal conservatism.”
Barr acknowledges that some scholars take a conservative position with regard to certain critical problems, e.g., the Mosaic authorship of the Pentateuch, the unity of Isaiah, and an early date for some of the Psalms, on the grounds that Christ seems to attribute those writings to their respective traditional authors. That argument he terms the “dogmatic argument.” But there is an alternative approach to those problems, which he illustrates in his discussion of Psalm 110.
“Since a variety of scholarly approaches exist, preference among them is to be given to that which sets the Psalm in the time nearest to David. A critic who set the Psalm in the Maccabaean age would be shocking in his extremism; one who set it in the period of the Babylonian Exile would still be very bad, but would be better; a critic who set it in the time of Isaiah or soon after the disruption of the united kingdom would be still better, and the more he used terms like ‘very old’ or ‘quite primitive’ the better he would be” (p. 85).
The latter approach is what he calls the “maximal conservatism” approach, and according to Barr, it thoroughly contradicts the dogmatic argument.
“If the Word of God expressly and inerrantly teaches us that Psalm 110 was written or composed by David, then it is of no use to argue that, far from being a work of Maccabaean origin, it was very old, going back perhaps to the year 900 B.C., written therefore quite soon after David, perhaps even by one of his personal friends. This does not satisfy the dogmatic argument at all; on the contrary, by the arguments that have been described only a few pages ago, this would show the Bible to be utterly unreliable and prove Jesus himself to have been untrustworthy. The dogmatic argument has to work exactly, or it does not work at all” (p. 87; italics mine).
And conversely, if the dogmatic argument is not valid, then the conservative interpreter has no vested interest in any particular date—early or late. Some evangelicals see the dogmatic argument as decisive, but there are many who do not. Logically, the evangelical who does not accept the dogmatic argument should be willing to examine and possibly accept the arguments for a late date in this and parallel cases. The fact that evangelicals who reject the dogmatic argument rarely if ever argue for a radically nonconservative point of view would seem to indicate that “maximal conservatism” is in fact very much at work. Barr’s question deserves an answer. If the dogmatic argument is not valid, why is there such a strong reaction against a late date?
The New Testament offers a related set of problems. Barr asks if conservatives really have that much at stake in their defense of the Petrine authorship of Second Peter. Many evangelicals qualify the term “inerrant” by speaking about the intent of the original author. But was it not possible for an author to write under a pseudonym without having intended to deceive? There were, after all, first-century precedents for that practice. As Barr points out, Calvin was willing to consider the possibility that Peter did not in fact write the letter ascribed to him. The issue forces us to ask whether the idea of pseudonymous authorship is merely psychologically disconcerting, or logically incompatible with the doctrine of inerrancy.
In short, Fundamentalism by Barr is a provocative book. Some will chortle in delight at the conundrums that he makes so painfully obvious. Others will be furious. And all of that means that the book is likely to be widely read. His central thesis is weak. Nonetheless, his challenges in two areas deserve continued thought. If inerrancy is worth defending, then it is worth articulating more carefully. Barr’s questions and barbs make it apparent that we do not yet have a satisfactory formulation of the doctrine. Second, the evangelical community has in fact been accommodating itself to critical scholarship. The question is: How far should that process go? Until now, conservative theologians and Bible scholars have worked on this problem, but they have rarely worked together closely. It is time they did. Barr deserves an answer.
How To Live Simply
No More Plastic Jesus, by Adam D. Finnerty (Orbis, 1977, 223 pp., $8.95), Enough Is Enough, by John V. Taylor (Augsburg, 1977,124 pp., $3.50 pb), Taking Charge, by the Simple Living Collective, American Friends Service Committee (Bantam, 1977, 341 pp., $1.95 pb), 99 Ways to a Simple Lifestyle, by the Center for Science in the Public Interest (Indiana University, 1977, 381 pp., $12.50), and Nature’s Big Beautiful Bountiful Feel-Good Book (Keats, 1977, 336 pp., $6.95 pb), are reviewed by Sandra K. Majorowicz, Wheaton, Illinois.
Less than one-third of the world’s people consume three-quarters of the nonrenewable resources. Americans, 6 per cent of the world’s population, consume 33 per cent of the world’s energy, eat an average of 3,120 calories a day, and spend $1,900 a year on food.
In contrast, of the underprivileged 73 per cent, 400 million are undernourished. One-half billion are underemployed.
Is our government doing what it should to help these underdeveloped nations? Is it being effective? Do Christians have any individual responsibility beyond supporting relief agencies like World Vision?
A growing number of people are taking a closer look at the world’s economic system and finding that it doesn’t work. There are basic, fatal flaws, they claim, that cannot be resolved without radical changes in theory and practice—both in government and in individual lifestyle. Adam Finnerty and John Taylor are two of these people.
Finnerty is the more militant author. Throughout the book, he batters the reader with a constant barrage of documentation to build his case: The modern economic system only helps the rich get richer while the poor get poorer. The world is a closed system with nonrenewable resources. No underdeveloped nations can attain the level of affluence of the United States—there are not enough resources. He becomes a prophet of doom as he analyzes the effect of the current rate of consumption and global waste. He blasts the United States for such wasteful practices as the planned obsolescence of U.S. goods. (For example, General Electric has reduced the life-span of one of its bulbs from 1,000 to 750 hours.) The world cannot afford such wasteful practices.
Although no one can predict the future, Finnerty seems to grasp the implications of the world’s economic system, and his case is logical and well-documented. His solution? Radically redesign global economics so that industry would be based on need (not created need), and each country would consume a percentage of resources based on its population. Since the U.S. has 6 per cent of the world’s population, we would reduce our consumption to 6 per cent.
Obviously this is a utopian dream, and here is the glaring weakness of the book. After wading through Finnerty’s grim predictions and sobering statistics, the reader looks around, frantic for something to do. What hits him is a solution of such cosmic proportions that he, as an individual, cannot accomplish it. No intermediate steps are given, no indication of what one person can initiate. The reader is left feeling helpless and guilty. Finnerty realizes this weakness and states that the purpose of the book is to spark discussion. That it will do.
Finnerty’s book analyzes how we got to be in such bad shape; John Taylor in Enough Is Enough looks at why. He seeks to “disclose the manner of civilization we have become” that causes us to maintain “the ever-rising standards of the few on the poverty of the many.” He accomplishes his purpose.
In this American edition of an English underground classic, Taylor first gives a brief overview of the world’s condition and a summary of the grim predictions. Then he attacks our attitude. We’re spoiled children, he claims, “petulantly greedy and ready to hack to bits anything that frustrates … our will.” We drive our cars when public transportation would do. We make but never mend. Dreams control a culture, and our dream is to make more money.
Two chapters in Enough Is Enough are especially helpful. In “The Theology of Enough” Taylor examines Scripture and discovers not an economic blueprint but principles for a consistent attitude to guide us in the market place. He finds that the Bible calls all men to make their decisions with a sense of accountability to God for the natural world and for mankind. Moderation is the key—use only what you need.
This style of living is commonly termed “simple living.” Taylor calls it living by the “divine contrariness of Jesus.” The next chapter, “The Cheerful Revolution,” contains pointed suggestions to achieve that contrariness. Christians shouldn’t be swayed by public opinion and advertising. We should learn to ask awkward, embarrassing questions to force industry to become more honest. Taylor’s suggestions to achieve this style of living are easy to remember and apply.
In one sense, though, Taylor oversimplifies the simple life. It requires more than living in moderation. Simple living means replacing wasteful consumption with creative alternatives. It means redistributing resources and restructuring institutions so that all basic needs are met—before luxury items are produced. In this sense Taylor’s directions aren’t specific enough.
Taking Charge supplies the practical suggestions along with a different rationale for the need to change. For example, a chapter on “Creative Simplicity” argues that we should “reclaim ourselves and our creativity from commercialism” and offers excellent suggestions for accomplishing that goal. A chapter on clothing provides hints for coping with the garment industry.
A few extras make the book especially helpful. Case studies abound; the suggestions are from practical experience, not theory. At the beginning of each chapter, the reader is challenged by a list of penetrating questions to help him evaluate his lifestyle in regard to the topic discussed. Most chapters conclude with a section on “What You Can Do” that contains good practical hints for action, and every chapter is followed by a bibliography. The volume is a good resource for those people embarking on the road to simple living.
However, Christians will have to look beyond the strong humanist emphasis that undergirds this book. The authors stress the need to reclaim control over one’s life. That’s the first step in redeeming the world.
Obviously that is not consistent with the Christian view. Utopia will not occur when every man is master of his fate. But the book is still valuable for the Christian wanting to fulfill his responsibility because the authors admit that “meeting the basic material and political needs of the hungry and powerless is as much a task of the simple living movement as reclaiming control over our own lives.” Both are accomplished by similar means.
For those solidly committed to this new lifestyle, 99 Ways to Simple Living is a good how-to book. The suggestions are more extreme than in Taking Action. For example, flushless toilets, compost units, and wild foods are discussed. There is little discussion of why.
A more equal combination of theory and practicality is Nature’s Big Beautiful Bountiful Feel-Good Book. This potpourri contains everything from an essay on acupuncture to recipes for soybeans to how to exercise properly. Its aim is not to rectify the world situation, but “to make you feel good if you feel bad.” Still, Christians committed to Finnerty’s or Taylor’s view can find useful suggestions for simple living.
Periodicals
The long-established Index to Religious Periodical Literature has a new name Religion Index One: Periodicals. It also now has a counterpart, Religion Index Two: Multi-Author Works. The latter covers, for example, collections of essays and proceedings of conferences. Both are issued from 5600 S. Woodlawn Ave., Chicago, IL 60637 and should be available in any institutional theological library.
