Cover Story

The Highest Calling

Two years ago I stood on the church steps in a small town in Illinois and watched uncertainly as the big yellow moving van pulled away from the curb. Inside, the movers had stowed my books, my files, and most of the other belongings I had accumulated in twenty years of preaching, the last ten in this sleepy little country town of 7,000 souls. Now, largely on my doctor’s advice, I was not moving to another congregation but actually “leaving the ministry.” It was the same old story played to the same tune that every minister knows by heart: an inherited problem, a tremendous growth rate, a new building, a couple of men with personal ambitions, and resulting factionalism. The stresses of removing the spiritual cancer took their toll, and after two trips to the hospital I heard the doctor’s recommendation.

He had suggested a temporary change of occupation. But as I walked back into that empty office and heard the echo of my footsteps mocking me from the gaping tiers of vacant bookshelves, it might as well have been the end of the world. I sat down in the quarter-oak chair, leaned back, and looked around. The office, though small, had been adequate during those early, hectic years. As attendance and program grew, a larger office was planned for the new building.

As I looked at the office, I thought of those who had crossed its threshold. Most of them had been honest, sincere people who had come for help, for strength, and for advice. They had looked to their minister for an explanation of the things that perplexed them, for an answer to questions they could not answer, for a solution to problems they could not solve. Arising from my chair, I walked past the bare-topped desk and out through the door. To whom do ex-ministers go at times like these?

Less than six months later I sat in my study in the beautiful home that we were able to afford on a more ample secular salary and agreed to return to the preaching ministry. It meant a considerable salary cut. It meant turning in the keys of the expensive company car I was permitted to drive as my own. It meant relinquishing an almost unlimited expense account. It meant giving up a promised promotion that would have brought prestige and financial security in my new profession. It meant returning to a schedule of work every night and every weekend.

Why did I do it? Why did I return to the ministry? Some have guessed that the ministry is easier than other vocations, but they are wrong. Some have supposed that the surroundings in a secular job might be unpleasant or distasteful, but mine were not. Others have tried to assign this and that motive to my decision. But here is my own evaluation of it. Behind all the sentimental drive and the thin veneer of superstition that have been associated with the decision to enter the Christian ministry, there lies a pulsing sense of urgency. It is that inner compulsion that keeps you working long hours and doing a job that might make you a first-class executive in the business world. It is that constant appeal that whispers just above the call of family, friends, country, and even life. You knew its call when the telephone’s shrill voice demanded that you stumble into your clothes and hurry to the hospital to be with a family facing the imminent death of a loved one. How many times have you heard it in your office, as you sat between the halves of what was once a marriage of love? You beheld the beckoning finger of this motivation each time you stood before a man and woman glowing with hope and declared them one in the Master’s name and service. You knew it each time you looked across a casket into the eyes of those who were clinging to your every syllable for some hint of hope.

We all know the neurotics and the hypocrites who cluster around the church—the frightened, the blustering, the insecure and cunning, the unloved and rejected. These are among the sick that Jesus came to heal. No more unlovely human being lives than the ambitious neurotic who mistakes your kindness for weakness, your patience for indecision, and your love for groveling. How easy to forget that he feels inferior, rejected, and threatened by his world and searches you out as a vulnerable target for his hostility, certain that you will not retaliate. And what joy you know as you turn the other cheek, praying that he will find in Christ the emotional balance you enjoy in your Lord. These frustrated misfits think of the world outside the church as filled with cold-eyed, dangerous predators. Although they may be emotionally treacherous and even consider you “the enemy,” they know that you will not prey on them but will pray for them. And you find your reward in loving the unlovely, in returning good for evil.

The alcoholic—despised by society, forsaken by his friends, misunderstood by his family, avoided by the moral and upright—comes to you as a last resort. He knows he can trust you. You may not understand, but he sees in you a little of the love of God that will not condemn him. He recognizes in you the meaning of the word “friend” as Jesus used it. And, though you may hide a natural revulsion mixed with pity behind your patience and kindness, you stand a little taller where God does the measuring when you try to lead the human derelict to safety from himself.

Or a frightened girl is led into your office by a tearful mother and an indignant father. No one has to tell you that she is another statistic on the illegitimacy tables. She has come to confide in you. You are the only man on earth, besides her doctor, who will hear her fears, answer her questions, and help her through her Gethsemane without prying, accusing, or lecturing. She instinctively knows that you will offer her the healing love of him who stood before another of her kind one day and said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.” No one ever knows—that is, no one but you—the minor chord of fulfillment that sounds in your heart as she returns home from her ordeal to thank God through you for reaching out to her and helping her find solid ground in the security of faith.

The consuming fire of the ministry warms you again as you stand before a congregation waiting to be fed the realities of life. They come, wandering through a modern wilderness, often alone, eager and hungry for the bread of life that satisfies the inner man. And they come to you. You feel a deep, solid satisfaction when you reach far into the Word of life and know that your sermonic creation is meeting a vital congregational need. It fulfills your destiny to see the light of new understanding break over listening faces, to see taut muscles relax, to watch the spark of eager hope kindle into a warm flame of faith, and to behold lives that have been jarred awake by your impassioned plea.

These, then, are some of the signs along your road that tell you yours is a high calling. It is a road that not only struggles through low and sordid places but also soars atop windswept peaks of inspiration. Again and again you rise from the shadows and tears to walk with God in the cool of the evening in Eden’s new relationship.

As you follow your high calling, you find a hundred fathers and a hundred mothers who love you, weep over your sorrows and disappointments, and rejoice in your victories and your growth. You find a hundred brothers and sisters whose loyalty often exceeds that of your own flesh and blood. Thus your high calling comes to fruition.

Surely these must be some of the things the inspired writer had in mind when he declared: “Eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, neither have entered into the heart of man, the things which God has prepared for them that love him.” Your high calling is the very call of love. It is the motivation of the good Samaritan, the evangelist, the counselor, the pastor who goes about doing good. It is the catalyst that breaks down a hostile, anger-charged situation, finds the motive, makes forgiveness an ennobling experience that you would not miss. It is the touchstone of your relationship with Deity, the common ground from which, with God, you can view your bruises with objectivity and understanding. This is what enables you to understand the Saviour’s intercessory plea for his tormentors: “Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do.”

We make such a fetish of proclaiming our humanity as ministers that we often obscure the larger fact that we have been with Jesus. We have walked with him and imbibed his spirit. We have talked with him and plumbed his mind. We have suffered with him, rejoiced with him, and worked with him to share his grace. Though we may not ask for his respect of our persons, he will not deny us our heritage as men who have loved him with our lives, our fortunes, and our sacred honor. If it is true that heaven is to be enjoyed in direct proportion to the depth of our relationship with our Saviour here on earth, then the slings and arrows of our calling will find their greatest recompense in our having walked with him through Gethsemane, through the valley of the shadow of death, and to Calvary if need be—and it must needs be. If it is true that the greatest among the children of God is the one serving the most unselfishly, then greatness is selfless humility—received as if undeserved, worn as if it did not exist, and lost when vainly displayed. Like happiness, this greatness is only the by-product of our participation in a cause higher than ourselves without thought of personal gain.

Yes, I returned to the ministry. I have wept a few bitter tears for the slow and hard of heart, and I have lost sleep in prayer for the selfish, the indifferent, and the neurotic. But I am home again—facing the problems and wounds of a sure and certain battle with our oldest enemy, but not facing them alone. The simple declaration of Jesus, “Lo, I am with you always,” is like the promise spoken by the prophet for the Lord: “Fear thou not, for I am with thee: be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee; yea, I will uphold thee with the right hand of my righteousness.”

Love your calling as a ministry sent to you by the Lord himself. It is the highest calling on earth. It is an invitation and challenge to walk with God where God walked when he visited our planet as our loving, serving, suffering Saviour.

Billy Graham in Alabama

The open wounds of Alabama’s continuing social conflict received the healing balm of the Gospel during recent appearances in the state by evangelist Billy Graham—and there was evidence that in the communities he visited during a four-day tour, definite results were achieved. Leaders of both races told him: “We believe this will mark the beginning of a new day in our community.”

Graham announced at the outset that he had come, not to preach about racial problems, but to “preach the same Gospel I have preached all over the world.”

But he did indicate that outside his public meetings he wanted to talk with leaders of both races about the problems that have recently brought the state to the world’s attention. Graham told a reporter: “It is wrong for people in other parts of the country to point an accusing self-righteous finger at Alabama. To single out one state as a whipping boy often becomes just a diversion to direct attention from other areas where the problem is just as acute.”

Still some Alabamans accused him of coming “as President Johnson’s personal ambassador to soothe the feelings which Martin Luther King has ruffled.” (The announcement from Graham’s office that he had accepted invitations to preach in Alabama had coincided with a social visit by the Grahams to the White House, where they are occasionally invited guests.)

But that this did not reflect majority sentiment was borne out by the fact that he received more than thirty invitations from all sections of the state when he first announced his itinerary. Since he had canceled a number of private meetings in Great Britain to accept the first invitations, aides said it was impossible to accept others.

On the day Graham arrived in Dothan, a city of about 38,000 in the southeast corner of the state, he was greeted by an editorial in the Dothan Eagle which commented that “there exists something less than unanimity of opinion regarding the timing of his visit” and an ad signed by the president of the White Citizens Council deploring the fact that “Dr. Graham could be invited to Dothan only at this particular time.” But a unanimous invitation had been extended by both the white and Negro ministerial groups, working together.

Despite rampant rumors that preceded the opening meeting on Saturday night, April 24—including one of a bomb threat—Rip Hewes Stadium was half-filled with 5,500. The choir of 400 voices, about half Negro, sang with George Beverly Shea, and when Graham arose to speak all feelings of tension vanished as the presence of God was felt in the stadium. In response to the invitation, almost 250 of both races stood shoulder to shoulder in front of the platform to register decisions for Jesus Christ.

Wallace Malone, a local financial power and vice-chairman of the Houston County (Dothan) Citizens Council, said it was a “great service” and requested a meeting with Graham. He told a reporter, “I am sure Dr. Graham did not come here to stir up trouble, and he did preach the Gospel. Dr. Graham is a great preacher and our kind of man.”

The word of the meeting spread, and those who had adopted a “wait-and-see” attitude were prepared to jam the stadium for the closing meeting Sunday afternoon. Heavy rains fell, and Graham decided to hold a short service under the stands. Three thousand people were packed tightly under the dripping stands when the meeting started, with others spilling out the entrances and an estimated 1,000 still in their cars. Scores of hands were raised in response to the invitation to receive Christ.

Graham then dashed to a television station for a hurriedly arranged thirty-minute program to speak to the thousands who couldn’t make it to the stadium. Few would deny that the Gospel had worked miracles in the Wiregrass area.

Among the comments was one by the Rev. Clayton Bell, pastor of the First Presbyterian Church, who said: “This was the first time in this city that a totally open meeting of this type was held where both Negroes and whites were free to come and sit where they pleased.… Not only was there no conflict, but a genuine spirit of love and fellowship … captivated the hearts of those present.”

The reports of the Dothan meetings in the state press laid to rest any doubts about why Billy Graham was in Alabama. Unpretentiously, the Gospel was already having its therapeutic effect. On Monday morning in Montgomery, Graham met with a bi-racial committee of thirty to plan for his crusade in the state capital June 13–20.

The next meeting was at the University of Alabama in Tuscaloosa on Monday night. Graham was there at the invitation of President Frank Rose and the Student Government Association. Despite threatening weather all day, the decision was made not to move the meeting from Denny Stadium, where Alabama’s Crimson Tide rolled to the national football championship last year.

According to head football coach Paul “Bear” Bryant, nearly 15,000 people filled the west stands. They came prepared for the weather, and when the first sprinkles fell at the beginning of the meeting, umbrellas blossomed like daffodils. No one left. Coach Bryant’s star quarterback, Steve Sloan, read the Scripture from John 3. But when Graham was about five minutes into his sermon, a torrential rain started to fall, making continuation of the service impossible. However, the people of Tuscaloosa—where the Ku Klux Klan has a headquarters—had made their point, 15,000 strong.

The next day fair weather favored the team, and an estimated 16,000 people came out to hear Graham at Auburn University at a 10:00 A.M. meeting. Although the invitation had come from President Ralph B. Draughon, preparatory meetings were held with bi-racial groups because of community participation. Many businesses closed from ten o’clock till noon, the university dismissed classes, and schools excused pupils.

At a luncheon with business, civic, and religious leaders of both races, Graham said that he is convinced the image of Alabama outside the state and abroad is erroneous. He said the image is not so good as some say, but certainly not so bad as others say. He told the group he is encouraged by what he has seen and heard and what Negro leaders have told him about race relations.

Tuskegee Institute, a Negro college forty miles from Montgomery, was his next and final stop. Here the audience, estimated at 10,000, was overwhelmingly Negro, but whites were scattered throughout.

On the platform were many leaders in the white community, and some of the members of choirs from white churches had volunteered to sing with the institute choir.

And so the Alabama tour—phase one—ended. Billy Graham had won the hearts of the people of Alabama. And if his eagerness to return in June for the crusade in Montgomery was any indication, the people of Alabama had also won the heart of Billy Graham.

Miscellany

The ordination of a deaconess, Mrs. Phyllis Edwards, to Holy Orders was postponed pending a study by the Episcopal House of Bishops in September. Mrs. Edwards, 48, is a widow and mother of four grown children. Strongest opposition to her ordination has come from the Anglo-Catholic wing of the church.

Roman Catholics in the United States totaled 45,640,619 as of January 1, according to the 1965 Official Catholic Directory. The figure marks an increase of 766,248 over the previous year. A 7 per cent rise in the number of Catholic marriages was recorded, but total infant baptisms fell slightly.

The Assemblies of God plans to open a childcare agency in Kansas City, Missouri, this fall. It will be housed in a refurbished mansion and will be designed to serve as many as 100 children.

“Our church will have to change its position on cigarette smoking,” says a report issued by the Commission on Social Action of the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod. The commission concedes that the church did not condemn moderate use of cigarettes in the past on the basis of “good theology.” Citing recent research, however, the committee’s report urges Christians to refrain from smoking cigarettes and to urge others to quit.

The Turkish government threatened last month to deport the Greek Orthodox Ecumenical Patriarchate. Officials announced they would make a detailed inspection of the patriarchate’s finances. The Turkish radio, however, denied reports that the patriarchate was being persecuted.

Personalia

Dr. Johannes Christiaan Hoekendijk was named professor of missions at Union Theological Seminary, New York. Dr. Hoekendijk, a former secretary for evangelism of the World Council of Churches, has been on the faculty of the University of Utrecht since 1953.

Dr. Robert L. Calhoun, professor of historical theology at Yale Divinity School, will retire June 30.

The Rev. E. L. Homewood, managing editor of the United Church (of Canada) Observer, was elected president of Associated Church Press.

Bishop Richard C. Raines was chosen president-elect of the Methodist Council of Bishops. He will assume the presidency for a one-year term in April of 1966.

Dr. Richard Pacini was elected president of the United Presbyterian Board of National Missions for a one-year term. Pacini is pastor of Fairmount Presbyterian Church, Cleveland Heights, Ohio.

Review of Current Religious Thought: May 21, 1965

One of the Most Important Questions in contemporary theology is that of the finality of the Gospel. Current studies bristle with problems related to this, and anyone reading hard in either exegesis or dogmatics these days encounters such problems almost daily. There are the many questions related to the historico-critical method, to “demythologizing,” to history and historicism, to say nothing of Christian morality.

When one turns from today’s problems to the witness of the New Testament, he finds himself in another world. For here we do not find a discussion about the truth and its finality; we hear words of warning and sounds of alarm against the lie. Here, in the New Testament, truth and falsehood are opposed as clear, decisive, and absolute antagonists. Moved and concerned, Paul speaks out unambiguously against those who “tamper with God’s word” (2 Cor. 4:2, RSV). He is alert to the “god of this world” who has “blinded the minds of the unbelievers” to the light of the glory of Christ (2 Cor. 4:4). He warns against false apostles and deceitful workers who parade themselves as apostles of Christ (2 Cor. 11:13). They imitate Satan in his masquerade as an angel of light. We are all called, therefore, to test the spirits, “for many false prophets have gone out into the world” (1 John 4:1).

Impressive persons can and do pretend to speak the truth. But we are to remember that even an angel from heaven may not be allowed to get away with preaching a false gospel (Gal. 1:8). Among the “prophets” that bring the Church into confusion, some will be most impressive and credible personally. But we must never forfeit our responsibility to test the spirits by saying, “This angel would never deceive us.” Even the most impressive prophet needs testing; the message of the most likely angel needs investigation.

In this connection, Paul uses the awful word “anathema.” This word has played quite a role in church history, most famously in the several decrees of the Council of Trent. The word may also remind us that when believers use it against other people, it is a dangerous tool. There must be room for a radical testing of ideas by those who love the truth. Of course, the ideas, not the persons, are always the object of human testing. And the criterion is not the quality of the “prophet” but the Gospel. The New Testament provides ample justification for the most searching critique of the ideas of those who come as teachers of truth. Where Jesus Christ is denied, there we have the antichrist (1 John 2:22). John does not at this point discuss differences in points of view. He simply sounds the alarm: “No one who denies the Son has the Father” (1 John 2:23a). And this touches all of life, eternal life. Hence, let there be no ambiguity.

In a day when relativity is king, these New Testament perspectives may sound unbearably absolutistic. Perhaps this is because so many things have been surrounded by uncertainty today. Profound problems have been set before us all. And even in theology there is a heap of uncertainty where yesterday’s verities seem buried. Where doubts rise, the alarm against untruth is hard to hear. The modern sciences, especially psychology and sociology, have made the complexity of issues more impressive than their clarity. We have become timid about setting things in terms of either-or. We are less ready to judge heresy than to deal with the psychology of the heretic.

Have we perhaps more understanding of error and its sources than John and Paul had? One senses immediately how pretentious this question is. We are reminded that we may also be estranged from the clear vision of the New Testament. Have we let our views become so complex that we have lapsed into uncertainty? If so, we have fallen into a genuine crisis. Worse, our crisis could be the result of alienation from the apostolic witness. One of the symptoms of our crisis could be our fear of absolutism.

History shows us a long parade of people who appear on stage with the whole truth, people who never took seriously the fact that the best schooled among us know “only in part,” that even those with 20–20 vision see “through a glass darkly.” The same Paul who spoke an anathema against other gospels admitted that he knew only in part. The absolutism that takes the form of fanaticism has always awakened reactions that in turn have tended to relativize truth.

What we must keep in mind is that there is no more false dilemma than the absolutist-relativist dilemma. With it, one finds a plausible excuse for relativism, for he will not accept unqualified absolutism. For the theologian, an understanding of the falsity of this dilemma is imperative. In the first place, we must confess that both Church and theologians have often spoken more absolutely than was warranted. The Church has had to retract what was once proclaimed as absolute truth. Galileo must never be far from our mind. We must admit that some past solutions to problems no longer satisfy, though they once were accepted as unchangeable dogmas. This fact must keep the Church humble. And we must admit that the path of humility has at times been hard for the Church to take.

But whether, in the midst of some uncertainties, the Church is still bound to the untouchable certainties of the apostolic witness is a question of another sort. It is a question of to be or not to be. Over against absolutism, the Church must never flee into relativism. What it must do is constantly seek the responsible way of proclaiming the sure Gospel. The theology of our time makes this responsibility a very existential one. No matter how complex many questions may be, the Church in its proclamation has to do with truth. And this means putting the truth in clear confrontation with falsehood. We have to avoid absolutism even while we fulfill our responsibility to the message of the Gospel, a calling to translate the Gospel in such a way as to leave no one in doubt as to its meaning and demands. We must make it clear why the New Testament speaks its anathema and why it warns against the antichrist. All the complexities of modern life notwithstanding, this must be unambiguous.

If we are content merely to understand error, the Church of Christ is no longer the Church. The Church has a transcendent position above the dilemma of absolutism and relativism. And the Church must know this and live in it. For while admitting the complexities of human thought, it proclaims the absoluteness not of its own but of Christ’s Gospel. We could put it this way: only as the Church knows both the anathema and the fact of our imperfect knowledge as Paul knew them both, only as it admits both, can it, without fear of capitulation, be of blessing to the world.

To know this secret—the relation between the anathema against falsehood and the confession of our own imperfect knowledge—we need each other. We need each other in the sphere of fellowship and reflection. For when we neglect or fail to comprehend this mystery, we shall lose our salt, and our light will be darkness. Neither absolutism nor relativism can give savor or enlightenment to the world.

About This Issue: May 21, 1965

CHRISHTIANITY TODAY presents a spirited exchange on two significant questions. Beginning on the opposite page, scholars of divergent views ask whether theological interdependency is necessary and/or legitimate. On page 9, a stimulating analysis of issues involved in creation and evolution draws critical comments from four evangelical spokesmen.

Our news section includes a special report on religion in politics, as well as interpretative stories from the Presbyterian U. S. General Assembly and the NAE convention. See also the account of Billy Graham’s evangelistic efforts in Alabama.

Southern Presbyterians Sort out the Issues

The most significant action of the 105th General Assembly of the 938,000-member Presbyterian Church in the U.S. (Southern), meeting at Montreat, North Carolina, in late April, was the decision to move resolutely ahead with plans for organic union with the Reformed Church in America. If the General Synod of the Reformed Church, due to meet in early June, also gives its assent, a joint committee of twenty-four (twelve from each denomination) will begin to formulate a plan of union. The General Assembly asked the committee to return with the plan by 1968.

Approval of the step toward merger with the Reformed Church, virtually all of whose 229,000 members reside in the North, came just after the standing committee on inter-church relations presented its recommendations in connection with proposals on relations with the 3,280,000-member United Presbyterian Church in the U. S. A. The Synod of Virginia had sent an overture urging the assembly to name a committee of twelve to meet with a corresponding UPUSA committee to “explore the conditions that are before our churches today with a view to our reunion.” Two presbyteries of that synod had submitted similar proposals. The ensuing debate was vigorous and prolonged. Practically all the commissioners who participated on both sides were men known as having previously favored all moves toward reunion of all denominations in the Presbyterian and Reformed tradition. Here the lines were clearly drawn between those favoring wider talks on church union and those determined to preserve the Reformed faith, and the latter gained an overwhelming victory.

The standing committee’s recommendation was “that Overtures 53, 54 and 56 should be answered in the negative; that our church continue to explore possible union with the Reformed Church of America; and that all possible means of cooperation and unity with the United Presbyterian Church, U. S. A., continue.” The assembly adopted the recommendation by a vote of nearly three to one. A few moments later the commissioners voted to adopt the joint committee’s recommendation for the RCA union. Then an invitation to participate in the six-denomination Consultation on Church Unity, an outgrowth of the so-called Blake-Pike proposal, was refused. Instead of providing participants, the General Assembly will continue to send only “observer-consultants.”

A record number of eleven overtures requesting steps toward withdrawal of membership or support from the National Council of Churches came before the assembly. These were rejected by a majority of about 2½ to one. At the same time, however, the assembly voted decisively in favor of an overture urging various reforms in NCC practices and procedures.

A report of the committee on Christian relations led to the longest and most heated debate. S. J. (“Jap”) Patterson, the San Antonio layman who was elected moderator, presided with disarming humility and directness, and the debate was characterized by courtesy. But no one could fail to feel and to understand at least to some extent the agony of spirit in many commissioners from the deep South. They had lived through a decade and more during which the whole social structure in which they and their fathers had lived for generations was being shaken. To some, the effort to spell out a Christian viewpoint on the civil rights movement seemed like “self-flagellation.” Some have been trying loyally, and with great difficulty, to interpret and carry out the decisions of the church in previous General Assemblies. To them the report entitled “The Civil Rights Movement in the Light of Christian Teaching” seemed likely to increase rather than lighten their burden.

The assembly patiently waded through this paper chapter by chapter, first that on “ ‘Respect’ or Love?,” then chapters that showed sympathetic understanding of “The Methods Used,” “Demonstrations,” and “Sit-Ins.” Phrases were altered here and there in the interest of accuracy; yet each section was adopted decisively, until the chapter favoring “Boycotts and the Use of Worldly Power” was reached. This one was rejected. Chapters on “Civil Disobedience” and “The Peace of the Church” were then adopted. At the end, a Negro commissioner from Kansas City, deeply moved, said he had seen something “that I never thought could happen here in the South.” The cumulative effect of the voting was to place the assembly on record as endorsing peaceful demonstrations, sit-ins, and certain types of civil disobedience.1Subsequently, more than sixty commissioners recorded a signed dissent on those parts of the report having to do with demonstrations, sit-ins, and civil disobedience.

The only close vote of the entire meeting came in a paper condemning capital punishment. Commissioners voted it down by a narrow margin.

On the final day, a report from the Permanent Judicial Commission led to a long and difficult discussion. Last year’s assembly had voted to “instruct” three synods to dissolve the three remaining all-Negro presbyteries and also to “instruct” the presbyteries in whose geographical areas the Negro churches were located to take these churches into their membership. As a result of this action, four overtures were sent to this year’s assembly pointing out the original jurisdiction of the presbyteries in such matters and the unconstitutionality of “instructing” presbyteries on matters in which no judicial process had been initiated. The commission said that “the 1964 General Assembly did not follow strictly the procedures provided in the Book of Church Order” and that “to request such action through the synod is more properly consistent” with the book.

The action finally taken this year “requested” the presbyteries to take similar action but “instructed” them to report on it by next year. A vigorous but unsuccessful attempt was made to couch the whole action as an “instruction,” thus disregarding the advice of the commission. In the debate it became clear that many commissioners were concerned mainly with enforcing the will of the assembly without realizing the far-reaching implications for Presbyterian polity of permitting such actions to originate at the top rather than in the court where original juridiction resides.

Many of the assembly debates reflected a problem that is troubling top churchmen in this and other denominations: the clergy-laity split. Very frequently the support for a proposal comes largely from ministers and the predominant opposition arises from the laymen, or vice versa.

Other assembly developments:

—One commissioner proposed that the assembly seek to withdraw an invitation extended to Dr. Martin Luther King to address a Christian social action conference to be held in Montreat. The conference is being sponsored by the Division of Christian Relations of the Presbyterian U. S. Board of Christian Education. Some support was found, but even some who would not have favored the invitation itself felt that withdrawal would have led to even more serious consequences. The proposal was voted down.

—A somewhat equivocal report on glossolalia was adopted. One commissioner translated it as saying, “Yes, and then again, no; but possibly perhaps.”

Evangelicals Involved

“The Evangelical Imperative: A World in Crisis—the Church Is Involved” was the theme of the twenty-third annual convention of the National Association of Evangelicals attended in Minneapolis by nearly 800 delegates April 27–29. The theme, based on Romans 1:14, “I am debtor,” bore a logical relation to that of the 1964 convention, “Evangelicals Unashamed,” with its reference to Romans 1:16. The convention showed that NAE not only is moving out of its shell but also has attained a strong sense of direction.

The usual simultaneous meetings of commissions and affiliates, the morning public and business sessions, and the evening mass meetings were in the familiar mold, as was the warm devotional spirit that characterizes an NAE convention. With impressive sincerity, speaker after speaker dealt with the imperative of involvement in the needs of the world. Clearly audible in the public sessions and also in group luncheons and smaller commission meetings was a wholesome note of self-criticism. Manifestly NAE has attained the maturity of honest introspection. At the meeting of the Evangelism and Spiritual Life Commission, President David L. McKenna of Spring Arbor (Michigan) College asked the pointed question, “If you were the arch-enemy of God, … would you attack evangelical Christianity?” Evangelicalism must, he insisted, speak with an uncompromising voice that challenges secular society and must show a new sense of responsibility for social problems. At a morning public meeting, Dr. John Haggai, well-known evangelist, told the delegates, “It takes greater dedication to be in the world than to recede from the human race and to criticize from the outside.… We must combine with all colors, occupations, and nationalities to display our liberation.”

One of the most outspoken addresses was given by Dr. Richard C. Halverson, pastor of the Fourth Presbyterian Church of Washington, D. C., at the closing mass meeting. In an astringent analysis based on Christ’s words, “Ye are the salt of the earth,” “Ye are the light of the world,” and “The Son of Man came not to be ministered unto but to minister,” he said: “With the Church of Jesus Christ, nothing is secular; all is sacred.… The work of the Church lies outside the church establishment and requires every member to do it. The work of the Church is downtown and in the social structure.… We have tended to pull men out of the world … instead of sending them out to the world equipped to witness and serve for the glory of Christ.”

A unique feature of the convention and a further evidence of NAE’s developing maturity was the premiere of the motion picture, It Can Happen. This forty-minute film, made under the sponsorship of the Scripture Press Foundation, World Vision, Inc., and Mr. P. J. Zondervan, is based on comments from people in various walks of life who were asked their opinion of the evangelical church. The film probes the self-centered superficiality and narrowness of many evangelicals, few of whom will view it without pangs of spiritual disquiet.

What about the trend of NAE toward the Church’s involvement in the world? Is this association, with its membership of two million and its broader constituency of ten million, known for nearly a quarter of a century for its biblical and social conservatism, now moving toward the social gospel? To come to any such conclusion would be to misunderstand this 1965 convention. While NAE leadership is determined to move the association out into the world, in doing so it is equally determined to bring the one transforming Gospel to the world and through this Gospel to serve the world.

The meaning and extent of the kind of church-world involvement NAE stands for is reflected in the resolutions of the 1965 convention. These began with a strong reaffirmation of the basic witness of NAE in which its biblical, doctrinal statement (signed publicly by the officers at an evening session) was reiterated. Other resolutions dealt with matters ranging from obscenity, civil rights, labor unions, and immigration laws to leisure time and public education. While the trend of the resolutions was conservative, NAE again took sides on sensitive matters relating to federal policies and social problems.

Dr. Jared F. Gerig, president of Fort Wayne (Indiana) Bible College, was elected NAE president for a second year. The Layman of the Year Award was given to Dr. Stephen W. Paine, president of Houghton College and a former president of NAE.

FRANK E. GAEBELEIN

Religious Coalition in Washington

Some forty-five clergymen from a dozen states assembled in Washington early this month in an organized effort to communicate their views about what the U. S. government should be doing in Viet Nam. Although they stopped short of specific proposals, they voiced “uneasiness” about the growing crisis.

A larger group of clergymen scheduled a march to the Pentagon and a “silent vigil” there the following week.

Both groups disclaimed a pacifist consensus, but a call to the “vigil” committee headquarters elicited the “educated guess”—and transparent understatement—that the “vigil” participants were against the $700 million appropriation overwhelmingly passed by the Senate and the House of Representatives for United States involvement in Viet Nam. In general, the “vigil” participants were reported to favor more active efforts toward a negotiated settlement of the crisis.

The earlier group of forty-five, who called their gathering a “visitation,” were less specific—especially after an hour’s talk with Vice-President Hubert Humphrey. The Vice-President spelled out the administration’s position in what a group spokesman called “persuasive” terms, apparently changing the views of some of the clergymen.

Before the meeting with Humphrey, the consensus was reportedly against continued bombing of North Viet Nam.

Although the “visitation” was billed as an inter-faith project, with Protestant and Jewish clergymen participating, the rendezvous point was the Washington office of the National Council of Churches. Much of the spadework, moreover, was done by Dr. Vernon L. Ferwerda, NCC assistant general secretary in charge of the office.

Ferwerda minimized the pacifist orientation of the “visitation” participants. He labeled “simplistic” a recent petition of 2,700 clergymen virtually urging instant peace in Viet Nam.

The group visits by clergymen to Washington this month raise anew the question of the involvement of the institutional church in complex political and international affairs. Encouraged by the decisive role they are credited with playing in the civil rights bill lobby, many churchmen now are ready to step up their activities in Washington. The church lobby seems to be expanding substantially, and some congressmen and other government officials are reluctantly obliged to take it more seriously.

There are now more than a dozen church-related agencies with offices in Washington that are lobbying or information liaison centers. Although no two of them have the same goals, the agencies frequently reflect a solid front on specific issues. Thus Washington now finds itself with a religious coalition that represents collectively an ecclesiastical lobby of growing pressure and influence. Those who view this development with concern are often critical of its chief characteristic: a leftist tilt.

Traditionally the most formidable religious agency in the nation’s capital is the Roman Catholic Church. The closest thing to an American headquarters of the church is the National Catholic Welfare Conference, which is actually the American bishops’ administrative arm. The NCWC is housed in an attractive but modest ten-story building along Massachusetts Avenue.

Not far away are the offices of Protestants and Other Americans United for Separation of Church and State, an expanding operation that disclosed plans last month for the erection of a new headquarters building at the corner of Rhode Island Avenue and Seventeenth Street.

Another expanding agency is the Baptist Joint Committee on Public Affairs. On August 1 the committee will begin a new program of study and research, and it is presently contemplating moving its offices nearer to the Capitol.

Considerable religious representation in Washington is already located in the Capitol Hill area, particularly around the Methodist Building. The NCC maintains its offices here, as do the United Presbyterian Church and the United Church of Christ.

Lutheran groups, including the public relations offices of the National Lutheran Council and the Missouri Synod, share space in the Lutheran Church Center on Sixteenth Street.

But the only religious agency that does not shy away from being called a lobby is the Friends Committee on National Legislation. This Quaker pacifist group has been traditionally identified with E. Raymond Wilson, who is still active in retirement. Wilson is regarded as the dean of religious lobbyists.

Although there has been much public concern over the impact of the religious and theological right wing, none of the religious groups identified with this viewpoint has Washington offices. The closest thing to a conservative voice is the National Association of Evangelicals’ public affairs offices. NAE lobbying is minimal and often is provoked by ecumenical church pressures for prejudicial positions.

The Moral Crisis

The so-called new morality now advocated by some modern churchmen is as yet far from being universally accepted by their fellows. A recent Time article (March 5) was cited by the Presbytery of Omaha last month in a petition to the forthcoming General Assembly of the United Presbyterian Church in the U. S. A. In reporting a meeting of proponents of the new morality, Time had described their ethic as one “based on love rather than law, in which the ultimate criterion for right and wrong is not divine command but the individual’s subjective perception of what is good for himself and his neighbor in each given situation.”

In response to such views, the Omaha presbytery pointed to teaching in the Westminster Confession and catechisms that moral law is permanently binding upon the consciences of all Christians. They cited moral principles enunciated by Christ (Matt. 22:37–40; 5:8, 17–20, 28) and the Apostle Paul (Col. 3:5; Gal. 5:19; Eph. 5:1–5; Rom. 12:1, 2), and continued:

“Whereas: Any abuse of sexual intimacy outside the responsible bonds of Holy Matrimony destroys pure love, damaging marriage and causing guilty alienation from God, and

“Whereas: The public press has recently carried widespread news of churchmen advocating a moral relativism …, thereby excusing fornication by engaged couples as no sin, causing public scandal, encouraging license, and weakening the fabric of our free society;

“Therefore the Presbytery of Omaha …, asking the grace of God for our own weaknesses, reaffirms its adherence to our Church’s historic moral standards, affirming any sexual intercourse outside the bonds of Holy Matrimony to be a sin before our Holy God, damaging to fellowship with Him, and to personal character and spirituality, and requiring sincere prayer of contrition, repentance and forgiveness through Christ’s grace before full restoration to communion with God may be assured, and the Table of the Lord’s Supper approached with a good conscience.

“We respectfully petition our General Assembly to reaffirm its adherence to our Church’s historic moral standards in the interest of the purity of the Church.”

This month’s General Assembly in Columbus, Ohio, is to consider a new confession of faith, which declares that in “each time and place there are problems and crises which call the church to act.” Singled out as particularly urgent modern crises are race, war, and poverty. Inasmuch as the new confession does speak to modern problems, some Presbyterians are disappointed that it does not speak to the moral crisis as represented in the sex revolution and the increase of crime. Attempts to redress the omission may be made in Columbus.

In the same week as the Omaha action, the Methodist Council of Bishops, meeting in Houston, spoke out vigorously on the crisis in morals:

“It has become incredibly easy for responsible people to rationalize away accepted standards of morality as unessential and irrelevant. Wanton acts of crime, drunkenness and sexual exploitation and abuse are flippantly tolerated and comfortably minimized as necessarily characteristic of a culture in transition. Basic rights like freedom of action and speech have been made into license for … filth. The people of Christ, through the Church, must speak meaningfully to the moral lostness of this age.”

FRANK FARRELL

God’S Word And Man’s Impressions

In the first-floor exhibit hall of its Bible House at Park Avenue and Fifty-seventh Street in Manhattan, the American Bible Society is using an eye-popping display of op art to show off modern Scripture formats.

The rationale, says a society official, is this: “Just as the artists of today are seeking new dimensions and a new outlook in their field, so the American Bible Society is constantly seeking bold, creative, colorful, and imaginative new formats and translations to lead more and more people, many hitherto unfamiliar or bored with the Scriptures, to search the Bible for God’s Word for this new age.” The society will mark its 150th anniversary next year.

At the center of the display is “Oeuil de Boeuf #2” by Claude Tousignant. A description says it “might convey the feeling expressing the words of the Prologue of John’s Gospel, ‘In the beginning … the Word.’ The concentric circles emanating from a red center appear to give the sensation of creation from a focal point in time.”

Another picture features a cross and circle which are said to “convey the impression of a mature faith reached through suffering. Out of the darkness of the abyss comes a positive center which brings coherence from threatened chaos.”

A small red center in another is compared to the Sermon on the Mount: “It pulses its way toward vacuums and frontiers and by its power permeates the whole.”

In “Blue Law” by Paul Margin, “strictures and disabilities are overcome when a new pattern of lighted harmony breaks through.”

Society officials are believed to be considering the use of op art in cover illustrations for Bibles and Scripture portions. The society is rapidly expanding its distribution program in an effort to keep up with the exploding population and literacy rate.

To help to meet the challenge, churches are being encouraged to step up their investments in Scripture distribution. United States denominations have been increasing their financial contributions to the society, but not in proportion to the demand for Bibles. In fact, the denominational share of the society’s support has been decreasing steadily, from nearly 30 per cent in the 1940s to about 21 per cent in 1964. Denominational mergers have also resulted in financial cutbacks. Gifts from individuals have made up the difference.

The biggest share of the society’s financial burden is borne by the Assemblies of God, who contribute seventy-six cents per capita. Methodist and Southern Baptist contributions amount to about two cents per capita.

Book Briefs: May 21, 1965

How the Church Grows

Church Growth and Christian Mission, by Donald Anderson McGavran, editor, Robert Calvin Guy, Melvin L. Hodges, and Eugene A. Nida (Harper and Row, 1965, 252 pp., $5), is reviewed by Harold Lindsell, associate editor, CHRISTIANITY TODAY.

This impressive work treats the problem of church growth from four vantage points: theology, sociology, methodology, and administration. The contributors are representative: one is a Southern Baptist missions professor, another an Assemblies of God missions executive, another the director of the Institute of Church Growth in Oregon, and the last a foremost linguist with the American Bible Society.

Section 1 on theology and church growth surveys the foundations on which missionary work is built. Hodges stresses the need for a “New Testament climate.” This means New Testament Spirit-filled men who are eager to plant churches and who are undergirded by prayer. A spiritual enterprise demands spiritual people. Guy writes about an adequate theology in which Christ the Lord is exalted, sin is recognized as rebellion against God, salvation is preached through the Gospel, and missionary methods are oriented properly to the message. Nida discusses numerical increases versus maturation of converts and warns of the ideological conflicts faced by missions interested in church growth. He is less enthusiastic about church growth than McGavran. He sees the need to weigh carefully such opposing forces as nationalism, indigenous non-Christian religions, secularism, and the population explosion. He warns against the dangers of the ecumenical movement when it becomes “a functional substitute for growth.”

In the section on sociology and growth, McGavran points out that growth occurs among people and in societal structures. Homogeneous groups make up the mosaic of society. Sociology cannot be ignored in the preaching of the Gospel, and man must be understood and approached in terms of his environment. The study of applied anthropology is essential. While these subjects ought not to become ends in themselves, they are essential as means by which the Gospel is made relevant to men in their own cultures. Nida forcefully shows why groups of people leave their indigenous religions and adopt new ones. He also traces the changes that occur in groups that turn to Christianity and notes how their economic and social life alters. Often they then become new and fixed classes, resistant to change and out of contact with the kind of people they once were. He deals with the external and internal factors that influence church growth and with the mistakes that missionaries often make when they try to structure new churches after Western likenesses.

In the discussion on methodology and church growth, Hodges argues that the good seed sowed in the ground in Christ’s parable is men; that there must be a harvest; that the harvest will produce its own kind. Indigenous churches should be planted, churches that become granaries from which more seed is sowed. In order for churches to grow they must be self-supporting, truly indigenous, self-governing, self-amplifying, and self-teaching. Programs must be tailored to fit needs, and the men who are the seed must regard sacrifice and death as essential to productivity. Guy brilliantly discusses the problem of underbrush, the dispensable, non-fruit-bearing weeds that hinder the discipling of men, which is the missionary’s prime business. Among the weeds are sentimentality that continues useless forms and shopworn, antiquated ideas that won’t be surrendered. Get back to basics, to essentials, is the plea.

McGavran traces the kinds of growth: biological, transfer, and conversion growth. Biological growth derives from the children of believers, transfer growth from the movement of Christians from one church to another, and conversion growth from the bringing in of unbelievers through regeneration. This chapter should be read by every minister and layman in every American church. He demonstrates that statistics are often misleading: unless they are “read rightly” they may all too easily be misunderstood. Nida discusses the dynamics of church growth from the divine and human sides, including such topics as who communicates the Gospel, how he communicates it, the verbal and non-verbal factors in communication, the four roles in communication, and patterns of support and leadership.

The fourth section of the volume has to do with missionary administration. Guy describes the functions of the administrator, the rules that should govern his thinking, and the need for making and carrying out difficult decisions that will upset the apple cart. His discussion of conserving the fruit of evangelism is exciting and compelling. His point that the back door of the church is equally as important as the front door applies to all church work. New converts must be nurtured, instructed, and given work to do; the momentum of their new zeal must be preserved. Hodges has an excellent summary of the role of the administrator, particularly in terms of leadership. He tells of the specific problems an administrator faces and the choices he must make.

McGavran closes the volume with a splendid overview of the book. He is aware that the work of men like Roland Allen who have pioneered in church growth has been left untouched by most missionary agencies, in practice if not in theory. He knows that his own efforts to study church growth, to advocate important changes, and to alter present trends are meeting resistance as well as acceptance in many quarters. But he sees evident gains and is sufficiently optimistic that this new emphasis has borne, and will continue to bear, fruit.

This book should be made required reading for every missionary, every missionary administrator, and every pastor. Most laymen would also profit by reading it. It is accurate, well written, scholarly, and thought-provoking.

HAROLD LINDSELL

Not Loud And Clear

The Meaning of Christian Values Today, by William L. Bradley (Westminster, 1964, 176 pp., $4.50), is reviewed by D. W. Jellema, professor of history, Calvin College, Grand Rapids, Michigan.

The problem of communicating the mean-of the Word to today’s “post-Christian” world is a major one, and evangelicals have done little about examining it. To call for “orthodox” or “Spirit-filled” preaching in the tradition of the eighteenth century is to evade the problem. The author of this short (and over-priced) book presumably tries to grapple with the problem, but he never gets very far. This is perhaps because the book is not an incisive and clear-thinking consideration of the problem of communication but rather a collection of loosely organized thoughts arranged vaguely around the theme of communication.

The bulk of the book deals only indirectly with the problem and is devoted to short summaries of Graeco-Roman ethical thinkers and to the ethics of the Old and New Testaments—in brief, to a superficial overview of Western ethical traditions. In conclusion, it is said that contemporary man is difficult to reach because the churches often preach a gospel stressing escapism (avoidance of social problems, concentration on the world to come) and old-fashioned capitalism (thrift, saving, hard work). Perhaps, suggests the author, we should concentrate on reaching the elite groups of our society (e.g., businessmen) and work to communicate with them.

The book’s main value may be for discussion groups looking for an introduction to the problem of communication and for a quick survey of Western ethical tradition. Occasional paragraphs show insight. The book is readable and the style, though it often makes one think of lectures for college freshmen hastily done over into book form, is adequate.

The informed reader’s reaction is likely to include some irritation mixed with bafflement. Hasty generalizations abound (among them: it is suggested that both Greek and Hebrew ethics have a sense of guilt because of patriarchal societal structure; that the individual comes to full self-consciousness at the beginning of the Christian era; that Eastern Orthodoxy holds that God is not present in the world; that for Augustine, the good man is one who lives in moderation and humility; that private property as a value has little meaning in today’s society; that medieval civilization was “created by the church”). There are also frequent statements that are simply not clear. What is “the middle-class way of life” of which New Testament ethics is a reflection? In what sense did Augustine “actually belong to the two cities” of which he wrote (they do not refer to the Church and the world of affairs, as the author seems to assume)? What can be meant by the statement that Luther did not favor obedience to authority in the Church? What does it mean to say that “large numbers of sophisticated Christians are content to remain agnostic”? How can nationalism be seen as a social reform which shows how the rich often try to help the poor? Such statements, if not necessarily betraying confusion in thought, do seem to show that the manuscript should have been checked more thoroughly.

For the ordinary reader interested in a survey, the book will be of value. Though it gives evidence of occasional carelessness, it also shows genuine concern with the problem. And there would seem to be all too much point to the author’s charge that the churches have avoided problems of social justice and that this is one reason why the best of the young are losing interest in it.

D. W. JELLEMA

It’S Hard To Swallow

Catholics and Birth Control: Contemporary Views on Doctrine, by Dorothy Dunbar Bromley (Devin-Adair, 1965, 207 pp., $4.95), is reviewed by C. Everett Koop, surgeon-in-chief, Children’s Hospital, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania.

Although many Roman Catholics, laymen and theologians alike, have new attitudes toward the morality of birth control, the need for population control, and the dilemma faced by married couples who wish to space children as part of their concept of responsible parenthood, no theologian is at liberty to free Roman Catholics from the obligation to accept papal teaching.

Miss Bromley takes no stand on birth control but rather reports on the conflicts within the Roman Catholic Church between papal authority (that of Pius XII) and the newer attitudes expressed by Roman Catholic theologians and moralists who seek a reinterpretation of marriage, sexual love, and birth control within the framework of Catholic theology. Her presentation is by means of innumerable quotations from public statements and published papers, and there is essentially no reference to the subtle pressures felt by the non-Catholic community as the lower echelons of the church have sought to impose on Catholic and non-Catholic alike the church’s teaching on birth control. The technique, though at times fatiguing to the reader, is generally well handled.

Readers will perhaps be surprised to learn that in a church thought to be monolithic in doctrine and teaching there is so much concern among theologians, philosophers, and moralists over the necessity for a more liberal interpretation of the goal and the meaning of marriage. A touchingly written chapter entitled “The Married Speak” explores the problems raised by the need for obedience to the church on the one hand and the desire for some freedom in non-procreative sexual relationship on the other. The long discussion on the morality of “the pill” provides an insight into the devious paths the Roman Catholic follows as he attempts to justify contraception under the papal teaching that condemns it.

This book purports to have been written in the hope of fostering mutual understanding. It does this. But the evangelical will find it more profitable for its look behind the scenes at possible courses of action open to the Roman Catholic Church in its effort to solve a perplexing spiritual, social, and moral issue without reversing papal teaching.

C. EVERETT KOOP

Critical Scholarship

The Anchor Bible, Volume 37: The Epistles of James, Peter, and Jude, introduction, translation, and notes by Bo Reicke (Doubleday, 1964, 221 pp., $5), is reviewed by Leon Morris, principal, Ridley College, Melbourne, Australia.

This new commentary series, The Anchor Bible, has an unusually wide range of contributors. It is a sign of our ecumenical climate that for such a project a team can be assembled that includes top-ranking Protestant, Roman Catholic, and Jewish scholars. The general editors are William F. Albright and David N. Freedman. From the list of contributors it is plain that the highest standards of scholarship have been enlisted, a fact amply demonstrated in this volume.

Professor Bo Reicke (of the University of Basel, an ordained member of the Church of Sweden) begins with a general introduction to his group of Epistles. In outlining the historical setting, he emphasizes movements of a “zelotic” type, which were found fairly widely in the first century and are too often overlooked by those seeking to understand the New Testament. Reicke leaves us in no doubt that this background is very important for these Epistles. In another valuable section he deals with the form and content of these writings. He sees these Epistles not as substitutes for conversation, as private letters are, but as ways of speaking to congregations; that is, they are like sermons. He finds their background to be the New Testament tradition rather than Judaism or the like, and he thinks that these Epistles, along with Hebrews and First Clement, form a specific branch of early Christian literature, distinct from the Pauline corpus. He sees all four Epistles as inculcating essentially the same attitude as that of Paul toward the state, an attitude brought out in his statement that “the exhortations to a peaceful and patient Christian life in loyalty to state and society are to be understood in an eschatological perspective” (p. xxxviii). This is further brought out in his comments on the individual Epistles.

These comments are very valuable, though the evangelical reader must be warned that the author is far from conservative. He sees James, for example, as having been written around A.D. 90 by someone who was possibly a disciple of James the Lord’s brother and who wrote in the name of that James. A similar dating and a similar kind of authorship are assigned to Second Peter and Jude. Reicke sees First Peter as written by Silvanus at the instigation of the Apostle Peter not long before Peter’s death, i.e., about A.D. 64.

The scriptural text is translated into English, and the commentary is based on that translation. For purposes of comment the text is split up into short paragraphs. Then at the end of each Epistle there are “textual notes” which comment on the Greek text. These are usually quite short, and I found myself wishing that a scholar of Reicke’s caliber had let himself go a little more in this section. This was probably impossible, however, since the series is expressly designed for “the general reader with no special formal training in biblical studies.”

This volume is a very welcome addition to our commentaries. It is clearly written, its scholarship is impeccable, and many of its discussions are penetrating. Conservative evangelicals will find much that they cannot accept. But they could scarcely do better if they are looking for a non-technical commentary written from the standpoint of the modern critical scholar.

LEON MORRIS

How Time Was Counted

Handbook of Biblical Chronology, by Jack Finegan (Princeton, 1964, 338 pp., $8.50), is reviewed by John M. Bald, associate professor of Christian ethics, Pittsburgh Theological Seminary, Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania.

Dr. Finegan, professor of New Testament history and archaeology and director of the Palestine Institute of Archaeology at Pacific School of Religion, Berkeley, California, has gathered together in this volume a vast amount of complex material concerning the measurement of time, the literature devoted to the recording of time, and the science of time as found in the ancient Near Eastern and Mediterranean cultures and in the biblical record contemporary with them. He has organized this material into a readily accessible form in which relevant data are presented, complexities and problems noted, and conclusions adopted.

The first of the two major parts of the book is concerned with the various systems of chronology used in the ancient world, primarily those of the Egyptian, Babylonian, Hebrew, Greek, and Roman civilizations. The manner of reckoning the basic units of time—the day with its subdivisions, the week, the month, and the year—is noted and is followed by a description of the development of several of the calendars that were used in early times. The methods by which the years were counted—the association of time with the reigns of kings and public officials and with certain eras having various distinctions in the ancient cultures—are also fully described. Finegan concludes his discussion with an outlined critical treatment of the chronologies developed by early Christians, particularly those of Africanus and Eusebius.

The second part of the handbook is concerned with a number of problems of chronology found in the Bible itself. Not all such problems are treated. Pre-Abrahamic chronology, for example, is not dealt with specifically, although the dates given for the creation of Adam and the Flood appear in tables that illustrate the chronologies of Africanus and Eusebius, as well as the Hebrew manner of reckoning time back to the founding of the world. Dr. Finegan does not comment upon this aspect of chronology. The problems of chronology in the Old Testament that are presented are those concerned with Abraham, the Exodus, the kings of Judah and Israel, the fall of Samaria and of Jerusalem, and the period following the exile. The problems of New Testament dating center in the events in the lives of Jesus, Peter, and Paul.

Throughout the work the biblical data are compared with extra-biblical data as these have become known in archaeological research. Many helpful suggestions are made in the attempt to work toward solutions of chronological problems met in the Bible on the basis of the possible use of different principles of time-reckoning that the biblical records may reflect. Thus, the author notes that the passion chronologies in the Synoptic Gospels may reasonably be harmonized with the record as found in the Fourth Gospel (pp. 290, 291, R452).

Finegan writes positively without falling into the temptation to make dogmatic claims to certainty where the evidence is not wholly clear. The book is exactly what its title claims—a handbook, not a thesis. Its concise style, arrangement by topics and numbered paragraphs, many chronological tables, listing of primary and secondary sources within the text in conjunction with section headings, and full indices and table of contents make it a very valuable and reliable reference tool.

JOHN M. BALD

One Thing Lacking

The Rector of Justin, by Louis Auchincloss (Houghton Mifflin, 1964, 341 pp., $4.95), is reviewed by Frank E. Gaebelein, co-editor,CHRISTIANITY TODAY.

Months on the best-seller list and very favorable reviews have brought this novel, dealing with an important part of American education, wide attention. It is not generally recognized among evangelicals interested in Christian education that the independent boys’ schools of the nation, particularly those in the New England tradition, have exercised a significant influence upon America, and indeed upon the world. The kind of schools that molded the formative years of men like Franklin D. Roosevelt, John F. Kennedy, Adlai Stevenson, Averell Harriman, Thomas Lamont, Henry L. Stimson, and many other leaders are, despite their comparative insignificance numerically, no mean educational force.

Mr. Auchincloss, himself a product of this kind of education, has attempted a full-length fictional portrait of Dr. Frank Prescott, the distinguished rector (headmaster) of an Episcopal school for boys that he calls Justin Martyr. He has chosen as his medium the intellectual novel. Comparison with Henry James, whose work is so greatly admired by many contemporary critics, is inevitable. There is little question of Mr. Auchincloss’s literary competence. He knows how to delineate character. He knows how to keep narrative moving. And his picture of Prescott, as seen through the eyes of those who knew him well, has a virtuoso quality like the painting of Sargent. Yet Auchincloss is no Henry James. For one thing, as the reviewer in the Washington Post observed, the occasional excursions into coarseness are quite alien to the James tradition. For another thing, with all his concern for motivation, Auchincloss lacks James’s indefatigable probing of the inner man and his meticulous analysis of moral conduct.

Out of a lifetime spent in an independent school for boys, this reviewer finds The Rector of Justin disappointing. Strong and even overwhelming though the character of Frank Prescott is, the picture of him, despite its remarkable verisimilitude, is disillusioning. Whatever else Frank Prescott was, he was far from a great headmaster. Nor was he, as portrayed by Auchincloss, authentically Christian. Indeed, it is in the passages dealing with Prescott’s spiritual pilgrimage that the book is particularly weak. The author has evidently read a little theology, but little of the redemptive heart of Christianity shines through the character of Prescott. There is rather the fatal flaw of compromise at the heart of the man, so that in the end the school is seen as based not upon principle but upon subserviency to wealth and social position.

Although the book has been widely heralded as revealing “the inner workings of a boys’ school,” it contains surprisingly little about the school itself. Prescott is the giant who walks through these pages. But he is no Olympian like Endicott Peabody, to whom he has been unfortunately and irresponsibly compared by some reviewers. Nor is he, for that matter, of the stature of other great American headmasters. This is not surprising, for no man who is lacking in integrity could achieve greatness as a headmaster.

Louis Auchincloss has written a readable and in some respects a fascinating intellectual novel. Yet he does less than justice to a kind of education that has produced both great headmasters and great schools. Evangelical educators will find the book compelling reading, even though spiritually it never rises above the level of churchianity. Let them be assured that neither Justin Martyr nor its rector is typical of the New England school at its best.

FRANK E. GAEBELEIN

Book Briefs

1400 Ideas for Speakers and Toastmasters: How to Speak with Confidence, by Herbert V. Prochnow (W. A. Wilde, 1964, 162 pp., $2.95). A surprising amount of wit and wisdom.

Objections to Christian Belief, by D. M. Mackinnon, H. A. Williams, A. R. Vidler, and J. S. Bezzant (Lippincott, 1964, 111 pp., $2.50).

The Soul’s Anchorage, by Robert Hampton Mercer (Christopher, 1964, 209 pp., $2.75). Sermons with a touch of freshness and, though praised by bishops, with much theology of doubtful pedigree.

Prayers for a New World, compiled and edited by John Wallace Suter (Scribners, 1964, 244 pp., $4.95). A collection of short Christian prayers from many sources. The title is rather misleading.

Preaching and Pastoral Care, by Arthur L. Teikmanis (Prentice-Hall, 1964, 144 pp., $2.95). A small book.

Congo Drumbeat, by Alexander J. Reid (World Outlook Press, 1964, 158 pp., $2). A history of the first half-century in the establishment of the Methodist Church among the Atetela of Central Congo.

Interludes in a Woman’s Day, by Winola Wells Wirt (Moody, 1964, 160 pp., $2.95). The author puts a religious glow on the little things of a woman’s life.

Called unto Liberty: A Life of Jonathan Mayhew 1720–1766, by Charles W. Akers (Harvard University, 1964, 285 pp., $6.50). A biography of a Boston minister who fired up rebellion against the British and no less against Puritan theology; his Arminian theology helped prepare the way to Unitarianism.

Parerbacks

The Formation of Christian Dogma: A Historical Study of Its Problem, by Martin Werner (Beacon, 1965, 352 pp., $2.45). Accepting Albert Schweitzer’s thesis that Jesus was in error about an eschatological Second Coming, Werner contends that a disappointed Church developed its dogma to accommodate this failure.

In Quest of a Kingdom, by Leslie D. Weatherhead (Abingdon, 1965, 272 pp., $1.25). A general discussion followed by a study of the kingdom parables. First published in 1944.

Spiritual Values in Shakespeare, by Ernest Marshall Howse (Abingdon, 1965, 160 pp., $1.25).

The Biblical Image of the Family, by Webb Garrison (Tidings, 1965, 64 pp., $.60). A pointed treatment that throws considerable light on the biblical understanding of the family, marriage, divorce, children, and the like.

Glossolalia in the New Testament, by William G. MacDonald (Gospel Publishing House, 1964, 20 pp., $.50).

The Revelation of Jesus Christ: An Interpretation, by Donald W. Richardson (John Knox, 1965, 144 pp., $1.45). Brief, informative, and very readable.

After Death, What?, by William B. Ward (John Knox, 1965, 96 pp., $1). A very fine discussion of death, the funeral, and what comes after.

Be Perfect!, by Andrew Murray (Bethany Fellowship, 1965, 171 pp., $1.50). Short essays on the biblical demand for perfection. First printed in 1893.

Instead of Violence, edited by Arthur and Lila Weinberg (Beacon, 1965, 486 pp., $2.75). Writings by the great advocates of peace and non-violence throughout history.

Reprints

The Bible Basis of Missions, by Robert Hall Glover (Moody, 1964, 208 pp., $2.50). Just what the title says. First printed in 1946.

The Eternal Verities: Jesus and Paul

It is one of the fashions of recent criticism, though its beginnings go farther back, to set Paul against Jesus, and represent the Apostle as, even more than the Master, the real author of historical Christianity.

In support of this charge, the contrasts between the simpler teaching of the Gospels (John being left out) and the elaborated theology of Paul, starting from, and laying all but exclusive stress on, the death and resurrection of Jesus, are dwelt upon and strongly exaggerated. Paul, it is held, knew little of, at least cared little for, the earthly life and teaching of Jesus; his interest was absorbed in the Heavenly Being who had appeared to him on the road to Damascus, and in the supposed meaning of his death and resurrection for the salvation of the world. In interpreting these facts Paul drew on notions borrowed from his Rabbinical training and Pharisaic experience, and gave the events a quite new significance. A theology of the Person of Christ (preexistence, incarnation), and of a work of redemption, through endurance of death as curse of the law, took the place of the older, simpler conceptions.

It will be very evident that, if the foregoing description is correct, Paul was an even greater religious force than Jesus, for Paul at least taught a universal Gospel of grace and love for men, while Jesus did not. Yet surely it is not difficult to see that, while necessarily there must be a contrast between Master and Apostle—between Gospel and Epistle—the features of the contrast are violently exaggerated. Gospel and Epistle are not thus rudely to be torn asunder. The Gospels, with their matchless pictures of the historical Jesus, came from the bosom of the apostolic community—from circles charged with those very Pauline ideas which are said to be opposed to their representations. The Epistles, didactic and hortatory in character, dealing largely with practical questions which had arisen in the churches, are what we might expect them to be, remembering that letters are not biographies, and that, in the interval, Christ had died, had risen again, had been exalted to glory; that the Spirit had been given, and a Christian Church created. The Christians in these communities, familiar with the story of Christ’s life and instructed in the meaning of his death and resurrection by the Apostles, would have been the most astonished people in the world to learn that there was any antagonism between the two things. How many letters of Christians one to another, it might be asked, even at the present hour—how many homilies, sermons, pastorals to churches—furnish details of Christ’s doings and sayings, and do not rather assume a knowledge of these?

Alike from his personal acquaintance with the heads of the Jerusalem church—he stayed with Peter for fifteen days (Gal. 1:18)—from companions like John, Mark, and Luke (the later evangelists), and from the catechetical instruction imparted to converts in every church he visited (cf. Luke 1:1–4), Paul had the amplest opportunities of knowing all that was to be known about the history of Jesus. If the Epistles do not give incidents and sayings, they at least, like Paul himself, are saturated with Christ’s spirit in a manner which implies that the facts of Christ’s history were known, and that their spirit had been imbibed.

If it is in his death that Christ has supremely reconciled us to God, must not that fact now take the leading place in all that is declared regarding him? The life is not ignored—far from it. All that was in Christ’s life is gathered up in concentrated form in the Cross; without the life, the Cross could not have been. But the Cross is the decisive turning-point for human salvation. Man’s first need is to be set right with God; this is done at the Cross. Then comes the obligation to holiness and service, and here the image of Christ’s earthly life reasserts its rights as exhibiting the model to which we are to be conformed.

As was to be expected, therefore, it is not in Paul only, but in all the leading apostolic writings—in the Epistles of Peter, of John, to the Hebrews, the Book of Revelation—that this insistence on the redeeming death, and on the resurrection, of Christ is to be observed. The early discourses in Acts concentrate on these facts, and on the remission of sins in the name of the crucified and now exalted Jesus (Acts 2:22–38; 3:13–26; 4:8–12).

But there are other reasons which make the contrasts that appear between the Gospels and Epistles more clearly intelligible. The fallacy which underlies most of the reasoning on this subject lies in ignoring the necessary contrast in the positions of the Apostle and his Lord. So long as Jesus is looked on simply as one great teacher, and Paul as another, on the same or like planes of influence, the contrasts naturally present a puzzle.

But this is not the true relation. Paul was sinner; Jesus was Saviour. Paul was disciple; Jesus was Lord. Paul was weak, struggling man; Jesus was Son of God. Paul spoke as the ambassador of another; Jesus spoke with an authority of his own. Jesus achieved redemption; Paul by faith appropriated it. These things involved the widest contrasts in attitude and speech. It is an obliteration of all the actualities of the situation to put Paul and Jesus in the same line.—JAMES ORR

Ideas

Picking Flowers on Golgotha

Despite “this terrible twentieth century,” many people remain confident that the twenty-first century belongs not to Communist tyrants but to the free world.

Yet nobody with a sense of history sees any real hope of that outcome apart from radical spiritual renewal. A former United States Army chief of chaplains, Ivan L. Bennett, points out that our country was “founded and developed within the framework of faith and hope in God. Today no nation possesses such resources of power, such reserves of plenty, such technical skills, and such reservoirs of compassion. Yet our day of destiny has come. Either we shall walk with God, or we shall sink into the dismal darkness that envelops nations forgetful of God.”

Any generation preoccupied with creature comforts and isolated from spiritual concerns is in the process of committing spiritual suicide. People who try to live without God cannot long live with one another, or with themselves. It takes moral earnestness and spiritual power to keep a civilization alive. To pay one’s debts, to mind one’s own business, to support the fight against cancer, and to keep the dog off the neighbor’s lawn—important as this suburban code may be—is no sure preservative of a way of life. Dr. Joseph R. Sizoo has somewhere detailed the tragic cost of our popular credo, “Get what you can; get it honestly, but get it.” It produces a society, he comments, in which people can eat caviar while a neighbor starves, or play solitaire on Persian rugs while slum children stumble in the streets because of malnutrition. Dr. Sizoo says of such a citizenry, “They can pick flowers on Golgotha while the Son of God dies and leave him hanging in the rain.”

As descriptive of the contemporary American mood, Congressman Walter H. Judd singles out the discomfiting term “confusion.” This confusion he locates primarily in the sphere of values. Is there or is there not a moral order in the universe? Americans answer ambiguously. The masses of our people, Judd contends, fail to see that the great conflict of our times is over the nature of God and the nature of man. They do not sense the heavy weight of moral duty placed on us by the question of values. “We haven’t understood the nature of this conflict, nor the character of the adversary,” he states, “because we have grown fuzzy about ourselves.”

Secularism and materialism stifle the life-breath of our own society. Its moral decline is terrifying, its spiritual illiteracy alarming. Fifty million Americans no longer attend church or synagogue, and the younger generation places an incredibly cheap price tag on human life. Dr. Edward L. R. Elson, minister of the National Presbyterian Church of Washington, D.C., observes that millions of persons are inadequately fed and most people travel on foot in the modern world, yet the two chief concerns of many Americans are “How can I reduce?” and “Where can I park my automobile?”

No spiritual merit accrues from simply denouncing an enemy who blasphemes the divine source of human life, debases the dignity of man, and desecrates our noblest beliefs, while we ourselves neglect the fountains of spiritual vitality.

Traditionally, the American spirit found its deepest delights not in material things but in spiritual privilege. The Pilgrims left home and kindred, comfort and security, to cross an uncharted sea and to build a new society in the rugged wilderness for one supreme reason: to worship God in good conscience. The Pilgrim Fathers signed the Mayflower Compact which began, “In the Name of God.…” In 1776 the Founding Fathers were influenced by the Christian view of man in their charter of liberty, defining government as an instrument for the preservation of man’s divinely given rights. Washington praying at Valley Forge, Lincoln pleading at Gettysburg, Marines fighting their way on Iwo Jima, soldiers establishing the Normandy beachhead, and American airmen repelling North Vietnamese aggressors today testify eloquently that life’s most precious values do not consist in enslavement to material things.

Modern Americans no longer need to span unknown seas nor to pioneer in an untried continent. But they do need to meditate anew on their nation’s heritage and destiny.

The more we spin through outer space while stockpiling missiles at home, the more apparent it should be that love is no optional twentieth-century commodity, that righteousness is an eternal imperative, that faith is not outmoded, and that God’s rule in human affairs is more requisite than ever. Those citizens who no longer honor the Lord’s Day, who neglect the house of God, who utter no prayers and bow to no Scripture, had better reckon among their privileges their inheritance of the blessings of a way of life shaped by a society that honors the spiritual disciplines of life.

A nation not built on good men and good will must falter and fail. The will of the majority is no adequate substitute for the will of God.

E. Stanley Jones has said: “There is one unshakeable kingdom, only one. The kingdom of self is shakeable; the kingdom of health is shakeable; the kingdom of property is shakeable; the kingdom of nationalism is shakeable; every kingdom in this world is shakeable at least by death. But there is one unshakeable kingdom …” (in And Our Defense Is Sure: Sermons and Addresses from the Pentagon Protestant Pulpit, ed. by Harmon D. Moore, et al., Abingdon, 1964, pp. 19, 20).

More awesome than the cold and hot war with Communist aggressors in which the nations are engaged today is the ultimate conflict for the soul and spirit of man. A member of the British Parliament, Sir Cyril Black, has put the decisive issue well: “It is a war of ideas, a war of ideologies, a war that can only be won in the hearts and minds of men and women. It concerns such fundamental questions as what we believe about man, his destiny, his way of life. Is man a creation of God and immortal … a human personality created by God …, or is he merely a pawn in the game of great tyrants and cruel dictators …?” (ibid., p. 22). A land in which the spirits of free men no longer compete for the highest ideals has one sure destiny: to march off the map. The only unshakeable terrain is Christ’s.

For about $150—thirty pieces of silver—Judas betrayed Jesus of Nazareth. The lust for money still compounds that tragedy. “Shall we confess,” asks Chaplain Frederick Brown Harris of the United States Senate, “that the ruling passion of half our citizenry is to build more barns and bigger barns (or more and bigger corporations), that the raging passion of the other half is to get more and more wages for less and less work—and that wealth and security have become the goals of our personal living and of our national existence?”

Recent American history is not all shadows; there are signs of strength. A people who once routinely drove Quakers from colonial New England later elected Herbert Hoover to serve in the White House. The clearer American ideals become, the more citizens proudly repeat the words “with liberty and justice for all” only as that Pledge to the Flag raises no embarrassment before the test of race, birth, color, sex, and religion. Injustice is seen more clearly as part and parcel of an ideology that renounces human dignity, that rules out God—in a word, injustice belongs to a society of the kind that the founding Americans disowned and despised, and that we reject in Communist tyranny.

But the vision of social justice is not self-sustaining. Its noblest ideals, its deepest insights, were nurtured by revealed religion. And in the long run redemptive religion alone has moral and spiritual resources to sustain and fulfill this vision.

In Modern Man in Search of a Soul, Carl Jung relates that among his patients over thirty-five he found not one “whose problem in the last resort was not that of finding a religious outlook on life.” It is a tragic fact that multitudes of Americans today grope for spiritual reality. Even graduates of many church-related colleges complain that they were denied what they had a right to expect—a reasoned outlook on life centering in the realities of revealed religion. And members even of some evangelical churches complain that they are not really nourished in the deep central truths of the Christian religion.

The apostles of Christ who faced the first-century world nowhere claimed omniscience; about some things they knew much less than we do. Least of all were they armed with a political ideology for revamping the Roman Empire.

But one thing they knew beyond all doubt. They knew that God’s promised Redeemer had come; they knew that he was crucified for sinners, and that he lives triumphant over death as Lord of all. They owned him as Saviour and put themselves beneath his Lordship. And they were true to their mission: to invite lost sinners to redemptive forgiveness and grace, and to proclaim the whole counsel of God. Theirs was a mission of love and righteousness in a world that had lost its way.

It is time to recapture the high and holy faith that exalts a people—faith in the Creator-Redeemer who forgives men’s sins and who lifts them to newness of life. It is time Bibles were opened again. It is time to return to family worship and private devotions. It is time for church attendance. It is time to face the implications of “our most holy faith” for all of life. It is time for “the things of God” to find ready place upon our lips and in our hearts.

A Dunce For God

Five hundred fifty years ago this July, John Huss was burned at the stake as “an obstinate heretic.” He had been granted a “safe conduct” to Constance by Sigismund, the Holy Roman Emperor. The safe conduct led him safely to the stake when the emperor obeyed the Roman Catholic Church that, while not burning him, turned him over to the secular authority saying, “Go, take him and do to him as a heretic.”

Prior to his death Huss was taken to the cathedral and seated upon a high stool, where there was placed on his head a dunce’s cap with pictures of the Devil and words committing his soul to Satan. He was publicly degraded from the priestly office, and thirty charges were read against him.

Huss followed the tradition of Wyclif. Both of them, as Philip Schaff wrote, “made the Scriptures the final source of appeal, and exalted the authority of conscience above Pope, Council and Canon Law as an interpreter of truth.” Both were true Protestants before the Reformation. Both died for the faith they embraced. When the Roman church offered Huss his freedom if he would recant, he replied: “I shall die with joy today in the faith of the Gospel I have preached.” As the flames swallowed his body, he was heard to sing twice: “Christ, thou Son of the living God, have mercy upon me.”

For five and a half centuries men have waited for the Roman church to right the wrong committed against John Huss. After the awful Salem witch trials in New England, the Massachusetts court made a full confession of its errors. In Geneva, Switzerland, in 1903, French Protestants erected a monument signifying their repentance for the burning of Servetus and for the part Calvin had in that tragic incident. But no pope or council has ever recanted for what the church did to Huss.

In any ecumenical dialogue, it would be well to place the name of John Huss high on the agenda for discussion. His views are no less important today than when he was burned at the stake. Is the Scripture the only final authority? Is conscience above pope, councils, canon law, and Protestant general assemblies, conventions, and consistories? Huss is dead, but the issues for which he died live on. His memory is imperishable; his faith and fervor are an everlasting testament to truth and to Christ.

A Time To Speak

Student demonstrations in foreign countries have long been signs of political unrest, noisy indications that political crises are in the making. This has been particularly true in revolutionary countries where governments rise and fall in quick succession. Even though students are often too young to vote, uneasy heads of state keep an alert eye on political fermentations and protests occurring on college and university campuses.

In the more stable climate of American social and political life, the college student has often been a rebel without a cause. But search for a cause he did, and he usually found one, on the campus itself. He would then, with a deep sense of achievement, deliver a protest telling the university’s president how the university should be run. Recently, however, college students have become increasingly concerned with off-campus social and political issues. This is a healthy sign and bespeaks better things than panty-raids and telephone-booth stuffing. Yet recent student political protests suggest that students are teaching the government before they have learned their lessons in civics and political history.

Not long ago ten to fifteen thousand students left campus and books behind to tell President Johnson what to do about Viet Nam. One wonders how undergraduates get so smart so soon. The French, not unlearned after centuries of practicing international diplomacy, struggled with Viet Nam for eight years and ended up without the right answer. The Johnson administration is funneling its best brains into the search for a solution. What special fount of wisdom did these thousands of college students tap that made them so confident of having the right answer that they traveled to Washington to enlighten the President and his advisers?

It has again been proved that a little knowledge is a dangerous thing. Although these students were shouting from the hip and not from the head, President Johnson was enough affected by their demonstration to take steps to enlighten his young advisers. He is returning the call by sending to college campuses persons who have been instructed to convey a full picture of all the issues involved in Viet Nam. This is a good thing. For the best protest comes from the person who knows what he is talking about.

Democracies depend on informed people who are capable of cool and sane judgment and immune to reckless mob spirit. Abraham Lincoln, whose campus was only a hearth, was sufficiently enlightened to remark that “there is no grievance that is a fit object of redress by mob law.” As a government of, and by, and for the people, a democracy depends on the sober restraint of its people and on their recognition that not everybody knows everything.

There are signs today that this restraint is crumbling. Everybody seems to be getting into the oracle act. Clergymen tell the government what to do about military, economic, and technological matters, although there are few things they know less about. Students follow suit; before they have finished their courses in history they are informing the government how it ought to chart its course through the complex sea of international affairs. There is a time to speak, and a time to study—and the last should come first.

The Church should learn from current student demonstrations that students are anxious to get caught up in crusades; that they want and need the satisfaction of doing something for a cause that is bigger than they are. Students are people. No less than others, they find life useless and meaningless if it presents them with nothing worth suffering for.

The magnificent service rendered recently by students in fighting back the flood waters of the Mississippi at many points of danger suggests that most of them do not conform to the student image that some press reports and the beatnik slice of the student body have created. We salute the students on the banks of the Mississippi River who literally turned the tide. And we summon society and especially the Christian Church to challenge students to identify with good causes in which they will find good reasons for living. Most students are not cynical about causes. But many are cynical in an affluent society about the worth of living only for more material goods.

An Example Of Excellence

During the past eight years, students in the English department at Wheaton (Illinois) College have achieved outstanding success in the Atlantic Monthly contest for creative writing. In competition with writers from colleges and universities throughout the nation, Wheaton writers have since 1958 been close to the top and for three of these years had the best record in the United States.

This year a historic “first” was scored by Jeanne Murray, a Wheaton College junior, who took top honors in both the poetry and short story divisions. Some of her fellow students were also given awards, with the result that 20 per cent of the recognized manuscripts in the 1965 Atlantic Monthly competition were written by Wheaton-trained writers.

CHRISTIANITY TODAY has consistently advocated excellence in evangelical education. Therefore we salute the award-winning students and the Wheaton English faculty. They are setting a standard that reflects credit upon evangelical Christian education. The achievement of excellence in writing or in any other part of education rests upon the kind of teaching that builds in students respect for truth and willingness to persist until clarity of thought and statement are attained. Without these, there can be no authentic scholarship and no honest creative expression.

Labor Laws And The Right Of Conscience

The majority of American Christians are not against labor unions. However, there are thousands of Christian people in the United States in such groups as Mennonites, Amish, Seventh-day Adventists, Christian Reformed, Protestant Reformed, and Plymouth Brethren who have conscientious objections to holding membership in labor unions. Their reasons are not always the same. Some object to affiliation in an organization that is religiously neutral. Some object to the use of force in strikes. They think it unchristian to achieve their rights by coercive measures. Still others feel that, since they are members of Christ, they may not become members of a labor, professional, trade, or any other kind of organization to which non-Christians also belong.

These moral arguments are neither dodges nor cheap attempts to reap the advantages of organized labor without accepting responsibility or paying membership dues. Many are willing to pay their share of labor bargaining costs; others would donate the equivalent of membership fees and dues to a charitable organization. Within the Christian Reformed churches, a Christian labor union has been organized, known as the Christian Labor Association. Such attitudes and actions bespeak the moral earnestness that attends the question of membership in labor unions.

But if these people differ in their reasons for refusing to hold membership in our national labor unions, all the reasons do fall into the basic category of the right and duty of a man not to act contrary to his conscience. The American government has long been very sensitive to the right of its citizens to live in terms of their consciences. It has not forced the conscientious objector to take up arms, nor has it forced the Jehovah’s Witness to salute the flag. This respect for the individual’s moral convictions is one of the profound ways in which American democracy differs from totalitarianism; totalitarian governments demand the ultimate loyalty of their citizens, whereas American democratic government recognizes that a man’s ultimate loyalty is to God, not the state.

In the nineteen states that have a right-to-work law, the person with moral objections to union affiliation is protected. In others he is not. Among the score of bills relating to the Taft-Hartley Act introduced in Congress, H.R. 4350 is prominent. This bill, while containing certain political safeguards, would, like H.R. 77, modify the Taft-Hartley Act to make state right-to-work laws illegal and thus compel any man to join a union in a union shop as a condition of obtaining or keeping a job. If such legislation is enacted, those in all fifty states who have conscientious objections to joining labor unions will be caught in the dilemma of violating their consciences or losing their jobs.

H.R. 4350 also requests Congress to designate the proposed change as the “Employee Civil Rights Act of 1965.” The attempt to confuse and mislead the public is glaringly obvious. To link the proposed change in the Taft-Hartley Act with the Negro civil rights issue and thus to convey the impression that the right of a union to force membership upon a conscientious objector is similar to the Negro’s right to vote is at best misleading, at worst dishonest. It is also anything but precise legal language. The employee’s “civil right” in this proposal is, for the Christian with moral objections, quite simply: John the union or lose your job. Such a choice savors of a Russian election, not an authentic American option.

Suppose the Church were to confront union members with the choice, “Join a church or lose your job.” How many of them would consider their compelled choice an exercise in civil rights?

Every American has a large stake in this issue. Not only the conscientious objector but also every lover of freedom should be concerned about this bold attempt to undermine the long American tradition that recognizes a man’s right to live by his conscience without sacrificing his right to work for a living.

Christian Missions And Turkey

One of the best friends America has had throughout the cold war period is Turkey. En route to the Holy Land, Americans on pilgrimage have often returned a report that nowhere were they greeted in such friendly fashion as in Turkey.

In response to Turkish friendship, Christian Americans would like to give the greatest thing in their power to give—the good news of Jesus Christ. But Turkish restrictions have made heavy going for the Christian missionary task. Dramatizing this fact was the scream of a front-page headline in the Turkish Ankara daily Ulus of April 28: “Network engaged in missionary work caught.” The report went on to name four men, Swiss, American, British, and Turkish, who had been engaged in Christian propaganda among university students in Ankara. Acting on a tipoff, security officers raided an apartment rented by the three foreigners, and found them around a table with five Turkish students, busy translating the New Testament. In the apartment were found about 8,000 envelopes and “propaganda brochures,” copies of which the police alleged had been mailed to many people during the feast of sacrifice (i.e. the Muslim lamb-killing feast in April). It was stated that investigation showed that “the network is run from headquarters located in Istanbul … controlled by an American navy man, Captain Luke, and the search has been intensified at that end.” The newspaper report claimed that the accused men were associates of Dale Rhoton (an American now working with Operation Mobilization in Beirut, Lebanon), who had previously been “expelled from Turkey for the same offense.” The case is now in the hands of the public prosecutor.

The report is misleading and yet faithfully reflects the confusion and illogicality of Turkish officialdom toward Christianity. The Ulus story is so presented that translation work is implied to be criminal; yet such work is done by the British and Foreign Bible Society, which functions legally in Turkey. The somewhat sinister reference to a senior American naval officer’s involvement does not tally with the facts: the person concerned turns out to be a civilian carpenter working for the United States Navy. Dale Rhoton, whose activities had come to the attention of the police, had not, however, been tried, sentenced, or expelled.

In 1962, three university professors who were appointed by the prosecuting attorney’s office to examine Operation Mobilization literature unanimously agreed that the literature contained nothing “contrary to our principles of Laicisim” (i.e. separation of state and religion). It regarded as irrelevant the suggestion that these principles were infringed because an allusion to the Second Coming of Christ had “the aim of altering the world system.”

Before Christ’s Second Advent does indeed alter the world system, our hope and prayer for our good friend Turkey is that she may hear his Gospel. In the past politico-religious circumstances altered this land where lie Tarsus, Antioch, Ephesus, Smyrna, and Contantinople. Now Mecca is preeminently in view rather than the New Jerusalem. But even as Turks are permitted to bring Islam to American shores, we covet for Turkey the free entry of the Christian Gospel.

The Dominican Crisis

American troops are in the Dominican Republic to protect the lives and property of Americans and others. When what seemed a simple internal revolution shaped up as a Communist-planned effort to take over a country of strategic importance to Latin America and the Panama Canal, President Johnson expanded American participation and sought the support of the Organization of American States in a mutual effort to preserve the integrity and freedom of this nation. As usual, there have been catcalls and plaudits. Russian and Cuban leaders, with predictable anguish, opposed this “imperialistic” assault against “a peoples’ movement.” The matter has been brought before the United Nations, where Adlai Stevenson has undertaken an explanation of the United States’ intervention in the affairs of another nation. The OAS has agreed to assume responsibility for the military operations.

Few people are aware of the background of the struggle. The Dominican Republic is slightly smaller than West Virginia and has a population of 3⅓ million. For years it was ruled by dictators, the latest of whom was Trujillo. He was replaced by Juan Bosch, who was elected president on December 20, 1962, in the first free election in thirty-eight years. Bosch’s regime was overthrown on September 25, 1963, and replaced by a triumvirate that promised another election on September 1, 1965.

This republic is one hour away by jet from Miami, Florida, and twenty minutes from Cuba. The Communists have infiltrated it, and the recent uprising is in accord with their plans to control this nation. For some time Castro’s agents have been interfering in the affairs of the Dominican Republic. Their violent reaction to America’s involvement accepts as honorable their own subversion and intervention.

One of the unalterable facts of life in the international arena is expressed in the phrase, “spheres of influence.” Since the days when the Monroe Doctrine was first elaborated, the United States has regarded the domination of any Latin American nation by foreign powers to be inimical to America’s national interest. President Johnson understands very well that the Dominican Republic falls within America’s sphere of influence. What happens there is of the greatest significance to the United States and to the free world.

Those of us who argue against situational ethics when absolutes are involved do recognize that in this instance the Word of God offers no absolutes to support one course of action over against another, as though one were right and the other wrong. Undoubtedly Mr. Johnson did not wish to send in our soldiers and was hesitant to do so. But he obviously thought that this action was far preferable to sitting still and doing nothing. The lesser of two evils was to take prompt and decisive military action. At this writing a formal ceasefire agreement, under the auspices of the OAS, has been signed by both sides in the civil war. The United States government has named a number of “Communist and Castroist” leaders who played an important role in the uprising, infiltrated the rebel leadership, organized the mobs, and carried out paramilitary action.

There are those who will argue that Mr. Johnson made a wrong decision. But Americans predictably will stand solidly behind the decision, and history will vindicate its rightness. Interestingly enough, even the veteran commentator Walter Lippmann, no consistent champion of administration policies, concluded that the President followed the only reasonable course of action.

It is too early to say how the situation will end. But we know there can be no “return to normalcy” in the Dominican Republic, because that would be a return to dictatorship similar to what the people endured under Trujillo. We can only hope that a new leadership will arise to carry this people to a way of life that will exclude dictatorship as well as Communism and bring a stable government under which the people can enjoy liberty and justice.

In from the Dark

One of the most popular of recent mystery novels is a tale of espionage and counterespionage in Europe, The Spy Who Came in from the Cold. This story of suspense, intrigue, violence, and sordidness can well represent what is taking place in the world today.

But there is another story that might be written, a story of men and women who have come in from the dark to the light, who have lived in spiritual darkness only to have the light of the love of God in Christ break in on and transform their lives. This thrilling tale concerns once-blind people who have come to sec themselves and the redemption to be had in Christ.

For many this transition is so gradual that only in retrospect do they realize the difference; yet the fact remains that a true conversion experience entails coming from darkness to light, from spiritual blindness to sight.

The Apostle Paul, in his defense before King Agrippa, told of his encounter with the risen Christ and of the commission he had received: “I send you to open their eyes, that they may turn from darkness to light and from the power of Satan to God, that they may receive forgiveness of sins and a place among those who are sanctified by faith in me” (Acts 26:17b, 18, RSV).

Blindness is frequently used in the Bible to symbolize the spiritual condition of those who do not believe. In his letter to the Ephesians Paul says, “They are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them, due to their hardness of heart” (4:18). The psalmist uses the same analogy: “The Lord sets the prisoners free; the Lord opens the eyes of the blind” (Ps. 146:7b, 8a). Isaiah records God’s words: “I am the Lord, I have called you in righteousness, I have taken you by the hand and kept you; I have given you as a covenant to the people, a light to the nations, to open the eyes that are blind, to bring out the prisoners from the dungeon, from the prison those who sit in darkness” (Isa. 42:6, 7). And the Prophet Zephaniah foretells a day similar to our own: “I will bring distress on men, so that they shall walk like the blind, because they have sinned against the Lord …” (1:17).

More than twenty times our Lord referred to blindness, either physical or spiritual. He denounced the Pharisees as “blind guides,” “blind leaders of the blind.” In the Revelation, the risen Christ, speaking through his servant John, describes the Laodicean church. so like the Church today, as “wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked” (3:17).

Spiritual blindness is the natural state of the once-born man; spiritual sight is given to the twice-born. This is the major challenge to the Church. That she spends so much time offering white canes and seeing-eye dogs to the blind when she might offer restored sight through faith in the Christ of Calvary is strange and tragic. Even within the Church, the blinded state of the unconverted is ignored or misunderstood.

It is spiritual blindness that causes men to reject the Gospel and to look on the preaching of the Cross as foolishness. The very nature of the problem renders futile any cure devised by man. The gravity of unregenerate man’s state is such that only a miracle can bring about a change. As our Lord opened the eyes of the physically blind, so he and he alone can open the eyes of those afflicted by blindness of the soul.

In the Gospel there is that miraculous, supernatural power which brings a man from darkness into the light, from blindness into spiritual sight. This involves a complete renewing of the person so that he becomes a “new creature in Christ.”

The reality of spiritual blindness and the transforming power of Jesus Christ are an inescapable part of revealed truth. How tragic if any in the Church should fail to admit the fact of blindness and the efficacy of the cure! And equally tragic if any who call themselves Christians should cause the blind to stumble or should lead them in a way at the end of which there is only more darkness.

Years ago in China the writer often operated on people with cataracts. It is a spectacular and rewarding experience to perform this comparatively simple operation on a blind patient and a few minutes later watch him as he sees the faces above him and counts the fingers held before him. The joy of the patient is often unbounded, and the satisfaction of the surgeon is great.

How much more rewarding to lead one who is spiritually blind into the marvelous light reflected in the face of the One who came to give light, life, and complete newness to men!

Can it be that many of our activities are attempts to fit blind people with glasses when their only hope is to be found in the divinely provided healing of the Son of God?

Can it be that we often make a grave error in diagnosis, failing to recognize spiritual blindness as man’s natural state?

Can it be that after this diagnostic error we compound the problem by holding out a false hope of a sight that can be obtained in no other way than through the blood-bought victory of Calvary?

We must never forget that the healing of spiritual blindness requires the presence and power of the Holy Spirit. Human agencies? Yes. But the power rests in the Spirit of the living God; the work of restoration is his. Our greatest failure is the failure to admit the reality of spiritual blindness. Front this comes man’s rejection of the remedy.

The Apostle Paul told the Ephesians that they were once in darkness but through faith in Christ had come into the light. Therefore, he said, “walk as children of light (for the fruit of light is found in all that is good and right and true).… Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them” (Eph. 5:8–11).

This transformation from darkness to light, from blindness to spiritual sight, becomes evident to all: “For you are all sons of light and sons of the day; we are not of the night or of darkness” (1 Thes. 5:5).

After this change we can test our own lives by seeing what we enjoy—evil things or good things, the works of darkness or those of light. “The path of the righteous is like the light of dawn, which shines brighter and brighter until full day” (Prov. 4:18). Self-testing will show us whether we are growing in our appreciation and reflection of light or are continuing in darkness.

This transformation is a work of God’s free grace, of his redeeming power. Speaking in the synagogue in Nazareth our Lord said: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to preach good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the acceptable year of the Lord” (Luke 4:18, 19).

What a tragedy when we reject the light because we love darkness more!

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