Concerning Language And Truth

The New Hermeneutic, edited by James M. Robinson and John B. Cobb, Jr. (Harper & Row, 1964, 243 pp., $5), is reviewed by Samuel J. Mikolaski, professor of theology, New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, New Orleans, Louisiana.

The New Hermeneutic is Volume II of “New Frontiers in Theology,” a series composed of three volumes of discussions between Continental and American theologians. Volume I, The Later Heidegger and Theology, appeared in 1963, and Volume III, Theology as History, is in preparation. The present book results from a “Consultation on Hermeneutics” at Drew University.

James M. Robinson (Southern California School of Theology) introduces the essays with a long paper on “Hermeneutic Since Barth.” The key essays are the republished “Word of God and Hermeneutic” by Gerhard Ebeling (Zürich) and “The New Testament and the Hermeneutical Problem” by Ernst Fuchs (Marburg). American contributors to the discussion include John Dillenberger (San Francisco Theological Seminary), Robert W. Funk (Drew), Amos N. Wilder (Harvard), and John B. Cobb (Southern California School of Theology), and there is a final response from Professor Fuchs.

Because the opinions of Ebeling and Fuchs are an important extension and variation of Bultmann’s interpretative method, this book is a striking contribution to understanding between European and American theologians. Though Bultmann is profoundly influential in Europe and existentialist theology is an increasingly significant factor in this country, clarification of the precise meaning of its categories and internal shifts of opinion has been needed. To comment briefly on a many-sided book is difficult. I can speak only of a few salient features and ideas.

First, despite the profound anxiety with which scholars of many schools view the technique and results of demythologizing, it is well to see that Bultmann, Ebeling, and Fuchs have certain positive objectives in view. Europeans are enormously conditioned by interest in Luther. Ebeling’s creative reinterpretation of the Reformer does attempt to keep the Word central, though he indicts orthodox theology for making Scripture coextensive with the Word. One might reply that the content of Scripture is crucial to the conservative view, but still the primacy of Scripture to Ebeling in his own way is apparent. He bemoans the displacement of exegesis, for example, in the classical liberal era. The key-feature of his hermeneutic is that Scripture is Word in its proclamation. It is not the understanding of but through language that he pleads for. He refrains from answering why Scripture is unique for this; the event-character of the Word as the Word of God is decisive. Our task is that the text by the sermon become a hermeneutical aid in understanding present experience.

To this Fuchs adds that Christians must revert to interest in history (beyond kerygma) simply because the Gospels do in fact just that. In a significant reductio ad absurdum he asks Bultmann why we should not demythologize Jesus’ expectation of the future, if judgment is the way to understand the Son of Man doctrine. He clearly exhibits the ethical, “decisional” character of existentialist ontology. We speak not to inform or that others may understand, but because they do understand. The norm of preaching is morality—the interaction of the text with daily life—where the truth of the New Testament is experienced. He does claim the defense of one, and only one, Gospel (p. 237).

Robinson’s essay serves to introduce hermeneutic in its new way of usage, in contrast to the old hermeneutics. Despite the valiant attempt by extensive scholarly apparatus to show what hermeneutic means and ought to mean (as seen historically), the argument has an air of unreality about it. Is there an “original” sense of hermeneia? What are the “existentiality of existence” (p. 44), the “call of being” to which it is man’s nature to answer (p. 47), and the “uncorrupted language of being” (p. 49)? Is this theology quite so unique, and is it unique in the way alleged? To claim that the recognition of levels of meaning not only semantically but culturally, and between cultural modes and reality, is new, is to claim too much.

Surely the enormous output of exegetical material in Britain and America of the past eighty years has not been blind to these elements. What of James Denney and P. T. Forsyth, especially the latter’s attempt to interpret “blood” in Scripture? Ought we not to take account of Leonard Hodgson (who contributed to a symposium with Ebeling), Austin Farrer (who has written on Bultmann), H. D. Lewis, Ian Ramsay, and many others who are engaging the question of religion, reality, and language? Can anyone now write on hermeneutic without reference to the fundamental questions raised by James Barr? Is it really a fair assessment of the conservatives’ interest in biblical interpretation (which Ebeling warmly acknowledges) for Robinson to relegate their extensive work to a footnote (p. 15)? What of A. Berkley Michelsen’s Interpreting the Bible (Eerdmans)? Does not the hermeneutical question lie, analogously, at the base of many of the Socratic dialogues of Plato? What of the juxtaposition of Homer and Zenophanes, Aeschylus and Euripides, Protagoras and Plato. Augustine and the Gnostics, which Professor Bambrough of Cambridge has called attention to recently? Too much of the discussion ranges around a doctrine of being without an ontology, and a logic of decision without an epistemology. I have a feeling that John Dewey constructs a doctrine of being as action more consistently than theologians do. It would be helpful if, once for all, American existentialist theologians told us who it is that objectifies God, and what that unhappy phrase means specifically.

In my judgment, by far the best essay on the Continental perspective is the one by Professor Amos Wilder, who makes three trenchant criticisms: (1) the slighting of belief or content of faith; (2) the dehumanization of man to whose mind the appeal of truth must come; (3) the failure to grasp the meaning of the future for Christians who are not just individually responsible now but are socially adapted for the Kingdom of God to come. “The content of the kerygma as an object of faith is obscured and the New Testament teaching on belief is slighted. Man is asked to respond as a matter of the will alone; all that we associate with man’s reason and imagination is neglected.… Logos is divorced from truth and belief, and this is connected with the anthropological criterion used” (p. 209).

This book does not grapple with the parallel development and results of logical analysis in philosophy today. Logical analysis is particularly prevalent in Britain, where tackling theological issues by such methods is in full tilt, though advances in the philosophical faculties of this country, as these may bear on theology, are considerable. In particular this concerns the revelational function of language, its odd theological usage, and the consequent question of the empirical placing of theological statements. Throughout this book one senses a failure to say what it is that must relate to life, or what the content of faith is. In short, existentialism must engage the question of truth, not as an ephemeral whisp, but as the function of language. Do theological statements state or purport to state what is in fact the case? It is not enough to say as does Fuchs that love is self-guaranteeing (authenticating?). The question is, Is it true that God is love? Why should God be love any more than a sweet potato? If God is love, do we know this revelationally? In other words, does revelation have something to do with truth, and does truth have something to do with language?

SAMUEL J. MIKOLASKI

The Forms Of Nonviolence

Nonviolence: A Christian Interpretation, by William Robert Miller (Association, 1964, 380 pp., $6.95), is reviewed by John A. Petersen, pastor, North Haledon Christian Reformed Church, North Haledon, New Jersey.

The summer of 1964 has made us increasingly aware of the difficulty the Negro has in choosing between violence and nonviolence as a way of achieving his goal. This book, though it ranges over a much wider area than the tension between white and black Americans, can be of much value to all who desire a deeper understanding of the Negro’s problem of finding a way to the better life. It is an excellent guide to those principles and strategies for securing and exercising human rights that come under the general designation “nonviolent.”

The author, editor of the United Church Herald, was formerly the editor of Fellowship, a periodical dedicated to the promotion of nonviolence in all social relations. This book reveals how close this subject has been to Miller’s heart and how all-absorbing a scholarly pursuit it has been in his life. His aim in writing this volume is “to show how contemporary man, without embracing nonviolence as a way of life, can nevertheless make effective use of it as a method of solving social problems.”

Miller leads us through the definition of a number of terms by which we can understand the concept itself, terms drawn mainly from two religious traditions: Hinduism and Christianity. He asserts the superiority of the latter, particularly because of its emphasis upon “agapaic” love as that virtue which is the true motivation of nonviolence.

Basic to the development of a program of nonviolence is the distinction of its three forms: nonresistance, passive resistance, and active nonviolent resistance. The first may mean turning the other cheek, that by not resisting evil one may overcome it. The second is exemplified in such action as the walkout or the boycott, “the deliberate refusal to fulfill a role which the opponent depends upon the resister to perform.” The third is seen in the sit-in or “any form of action which tactically takes the offensive and moves into the problem area rather than withdrawing from it.” From this ascending scale there, is no escaping the problem of possible civil disobedience, the serious implications of which Miller does not lightly pass over.

Areas of application become wider as the book progresses. Miller deals with the place of nonviolence as at least an auxiliary arm in revolution and the establishing of a new government. He even dares to apply this by way of example to a hoped-for reconstituting of state governments in the South. From there he goes on to illustrate how nonviolence may be an alternative to nuclear war and a means of keeping the peace between disputing nations. Miller envisions a U. N. nonviolent task force that would with great moral courage insert itself between battling armies and constrain them to negotiate a peaceful settlement.

JOHN A. PETERSEN

New, But Second-Hand

The Russian Religious Renaissance of the Twentieth Century, by Nicolas Zernov (Harper & Row, 1963, 410 pp., $7), is reviewed by Georges Florovsky, professor of Eastern church history, Harvard Divinity School, Cambridge, Massachusetts.

The phrase “Russian Religious Renaissance” was coined by the late Nicolas Berdyaev. In 1935 he published in the Russian magazine Put (“The Way”), of which he was the editor, an inspiring article under this title. The name denotes the many-sided movement of religious awakening that had exploded in certain circles of Russian society by the end of the last century and came to fruition in the subsequent decades. It was a significant and potent episode in the history of Russian culture, with manifold reflections and ramifications on various levels: personal conversions, philosophical search and theological speculations, renewal in art and literature, a new apprehension of moral and social issues. Indeed, it is an important and promising field for study. Dr. Zernov has therefore chosen a timely subject for his new book.

Unfortunately, he was neither able nor competent to cope with it. He is a journalist, not a scholar. In all his books he glides valiantly on the surface and never probes in the depth. He likes summary statements and sweeping generalizations. It may be entertaining—especially for the common reader who wants a book for easy reading. But this kind of presentation is misleading and very often only obscures the real issues. There is, of course, some valid and relevant material in the book, but it must be used with caution and discrimination. Zernov’s use of material is highly subjective and selective—or perhaps his knowledge of the field is incomplete.

What is missing in the book is, first of all, a right perspective. Zernov is not aware of the discordant variety of trends that he hurriedly summarizes under the vague concept of “conversion,” “rediscovery of,” or “return” to, “religion.” He does not notice that different people were rediscovering different “religions.” Nor is he duly cognizant of the erratic character of many trends. On page 324, he declares: “The Russian Renaissance gave to the Russian Church a number of great theologians and religious thinkers.” This statement may be true, but it needs qualification. The reader does not find in the book any adequate information on what these thinkers and theologians have actually contributed to the Church. He does find in the book some impressionistic and usually complimentary snapshots of certain personalities, but he gets almost nothing on their thoughts and ideas.

The weakest chapter is the eleventh: “The Divine Wisdom.” There are vague phrases here, but Zernov even does not attempt to describe the “theology of Sophia” as it has been elaborated, after Vladimir Solovyev, by Florensky and Bulgakov (and, in a drastically different form, by Berdyaev). In a rather naïve manner he traces this “Sophianic vision” back to the peculiarity of the Russian religious mind, and he does not take seriously its obvious dependence upon German mysticism (Jacob Boehme) and German idealistic philosophy (especially Schelling).

But even his portraits are utterly simplified. Father Paul Florensky, for instance, was undoubtedly an outstanding person. But three pages on him in Zernov’s book give no real impression of this great and erratic personality. Zernov does not mention, or probably does not know of, the impressive if rather biased portrait of Florensky by L. Sabaneeff that appeared in the Russian Review of October, 1961, and was recently published in English; in this the whole ambiguity of the person and also the ideology was persuasively emphasized. Nor does he use the informative Russian article on Florensky by E. Modestov in the magazine Mosty (“The Bridges”), published in Munich (Vol. II, 1959), in which one finds revealing data on the post-Revolutionary career of Florensky. Zernov’s portraits are essays in “complimentary iconography.” Again, in order to understand Berdyaev one has to turn to the excellent biography by Donald Lowrie, Rebellious Prophet (1960). There you meet a real man, with his striving and failures, with his problems and aspirations. The skeleton of Zernov’s books is very simple: Russian Intelligentsia was for a long time away from religion and then in the period of Renaissance came back to it. There is too little flesh and blood in the picture.

The major charge that must be brought forward is that Zernov has no understanding of the problematic character of the “Russian Renaissance.” It was indeed a mighty move and movement, but will its heritage stay? Or was it rather a side way, that had its historical justification and value but will hardly be followed in the future? One is compelled to ask this question: Is not the “Russian Religious Mind” itself under the judgment of the Universal Christian Tradition, rather than an independent religious value by itself? Zernov probably will decline this question. But the searching reader who is interested not only in the history of Russia but also in the problems of faith is bound to raise this question. What is the significance of the “Russian Religious Renaissance” in the perspective of the contemporary return to Scripture and tradition, to the eternal values of the divine revelation?

Zernov is described on the book jacket as a “world authority on Russian religious thought.” It is hardly true: he is simply a writer of popular books. Nor is his new book “a firsthand account of the important cultural movement.…” That is precisely what his book is not. It is a distinctively “second-hand book,” a compilation.

GEORGES FLOROVSKY

The Point At Issue

The Case for Calvinism, by Cornelius Van Til (Presbyterian and Reformed, 1964, 154 pp., $3.75), is reviewed by James Daane, assistant editor, CHRISTIANITY TODAY.

With this book Cornelius Van Til responds to the trilogy published by Westminster Press in 1959: The Case for Orthodox Theology, by Edward John Carnell; The Case for Theology in Liberal Perspective, by L. Harold DeWolf; and The Case for a New Reformation Theology, by William Hordern. Van Til makes his case for Calvinism, convinced that the theological methods of Carnell, Hordern, and DeWolf are basically similar and essentially destructive of Christianity. Each, in varying degrees, allows man to retain a spirit of proud and sinful autonomy by permitting him to retain some knowledge, material or formal, by which he can evaluate and judge the revelation of God in Christ.

Van Til is kinder to and yet more critical of Carnell, his former student, amazed as he is at the mystery of Carnell’s erroneous adoption of a theological method that is “destructive of Christianity.”

To Van Til’s credit, he knows the importance of working with the proper theological method. He knows that a man’s theology is shaped by his methodology. He urges that Christian theology has its own distinctive presuppositions and method and that these are not brought to, but brought up out of, the Christian faith itself.

Van Til’s basic criticism of the three authors mentioned is that each works with a theological method informed by the presupposition that man possesses some bit of knowledge, a criterion of value, or a principle of logic (for example, the law of non-contradiction) that favorably relates him to, and enables him to judge, the revelation of God that comes in Christ. This, according to Van Til, is in principle to subscribe to a natural theology, which then permits one to dictate the terms and contents of God’s special revelation in Christ.

The truly biblical thinker for Van Til is the Calvinist who, if not always in fact yet by ideal definition, allows the Bible to set all the presuppositions concerning the human possibilities of knowing God.

The basic biblical presuppositions involved here, according to Van Til, are: God’s general revelation; man’s ethically sinful nature which rejects the knowledge of revelation; and the consequence that the sinner, epistemologically speaking, knows nothing.

Van Til makes a distinction which we must recognize if we are to understand his thought. He distinguishes between the “psychological” and the “epistemological” (cf. his Common Grace). Psychologically man possesses such knowledge of God as comes to him through general revelation, a revelation that constantly impinges upon his consciousness. But being ethically sinful, the sinner wholly rejects the truth of general revelation when as a thinking man he reflects on it. Consequently, epistemologically, the sinner has no knowledge of God (or of himself, or the world). The sinner’s whole-hearted rejection of revelation, in Van Til’s view, means the total loss of the knowledge it conveys.

On this distinction between “psychological” and “epistemological” rests Van Til’s basic criticism of DeWolf, Hordern, and Carnell. DeWolf, says Van Til, confuses Calvin’s teaching about God’s general revelation to man with man’s response to that revelation. In other words, DeWolf allows man’s response to retain some part of revelation. Similarly, Hordern is said to confuse Calvin’s doctrine of general revelation with “natural theology,” for Hordern believes that because of general revelation the sinner does have some knowledge of God. Again—and similarly—Van Til accuses Carnell of turning common grace into “natural theology,” i.e., of thinking that common grace enables sinful man to accept and retain some knowledge of God. This, according to Van Til, is the serious flaw in Carnell’s method (and in that of Hordern and DeWolf), a flaw that makes Carnell’s theology as destructive of Christianity as the liberal theology of DeWolf and the New Reformation theology of Hordern.

Carnell has been criticized by others for his understanding of the so-called “point of contact,” but two observations regarding Van Til’s criticism are in order. First, Calvin, as well as Reformed theologians generally, believed that common grace enables the unregenerate man to have and to hold some valid knowledge of God. For them God’s common grace, and the general operations of the Holy Spirit, meant that sinful men are restrained from wholly rejecting all knowledge of God. The classical representatives of Calvinistic thought did not—nor to my knowledge did any of the non-so-classical representatives—make Van Til’s peculiar distinction between the “psychological” and the “epistemological,” nor did they hold to the position he wishes to protect by this distinction. And it is significant that in all his allusions to Calvin and to Reformed Calvinistic creeds, Van Til does not once quote Calvin or these creeds to support his position, or to demonstrate that it is the position of “Calvinism.” His case for Calvinism rests on the force of his own pleadings, with no supportive evidence adduced from traditional Calvinistic thought. Contrary to Van Til’s claim, such thought held that common grace restrains sin and enables the sinner to possess greater virtue and a greater knowledge of God than his own sin would allow.

A second observation is in order. Even if we grant that sinful men reject the knowledge of God that impinges on their consciousness through general revelation, do they thereby lose all knowledge of what they reject? If they do, what does general revelation continue to reveal? Again, if they do, is sin then stronger than God’s revelation? And finally, what function does common grace serve, if sinners wholly lose that knowledge of God which they sinfully reject? It seems clear that non-recognition of what classical Calvinism has always seen as the achievement of common grace leads Van Til into the error of accusing Carnell of turning common grace into natural theology. Traditional Calvinism rejected natural theology; but it also acknowledged the truth of common grace and did not confuse this acknowledgment with a surrender to natural theology.

Van Til’s avowed acceptance of common grace and attempt to ward off its force by his distinction between the psychological and the epistemological not only raises more questions than it answers; it also makes his Calvinism unrecognizable and his case for it unconvincing. For it is not by traditional Calvinism but only by “another Calvinism” that Carnell’s theology can be judged as one that “requires the destruction of Christianity,” one that “would require him to create God in man’s image” and “would force him to the denial of God as the Creator of man,” and one that “requires the reduction of God’s electing love for sinners to a society of autonomous men.”

Van Til himself, however, does not escape what he calls the “autonomous man.” His purpose, he writes, is “to bring the challenge of the Gospel of Christ to modern man,” because Christianity is modern man’s only hope. “However,” he adds, “this cannot be shown to be true unless it be made evident that Christianity not only has its own methodology but also that only its methodology gives meaning to human life.” In making this “evident,” Van Til himself appeals to something in man to which the truth of Christianity will hopefully appear “evident.” And with this, Van Til’s “autonomous man” has returned.

JAMES DAANE

First-Fruits Of Vatican Ii

The Church’s Worship, by D. J. Crichton (G. Chapman, 1964, 246 pp., 10s. 6d. paper, 25s. cased), is reviewed by Angus W. Morrison, minister, St. Ninian’s Priory Church, Whithorn, Scotland, and Presbyterian observer at the Second Vatican Council.

The final votes on the “Constitution on the Sacred Liturgy” were received with most un-liturgical applause by the Council Fathers: readers are now able to see an English text with a lively and appreciative commentary by the editor of Liturgy and are invited to add their own acclamations. “Since the Council of Trent we have, in the matter of liturgy, been living an unnatural liturgical life.… It cannot be said that reform is premature.” “The low Mass, and to some extent the High Mass, as we have known it, is a thing of the past.… Whenever the Mass is celebrated with the people present, it will be a communal activity in which all will have to take their several parts.” “One cannot but feel that even in baptism it would be a good thing to read the words of our Lord about this sacrament either before or during its administration.” “We have restored a balance that has long been wanting and by implication the purpose of the ministry of the word is seen to be the opening of the mind and heart of the participants so that they may fruitfully feed on Christ’s Body in Holy Communion.” “The Church makes it clear … that communion under one kind is but a disciplinary regulation and that there is no objection in principle to communion under both kinds.” The way is open for a great pulling down of mental and physical shutters that have long darkened the worship of the churches of the Roman communion. If our interest and applause can hasten this work, then we certainly should not begrudge them.

Yet this new vision will show us more sharply than ever that it is in the field of worship that the disunity of Christians reveals itself most to the light of day. While we share in the theology and thrill of the “paschal progress,” the whole import of the history of salvation, the journey of Christ, we are far from agreed on the manner of the continuing presence of the Lord in his Church and in the worship of the people. Is the liturgy of the Church in glory the same as that of the Church on the way? Is the mystery of “Emmanuel—God-with-us” the same as the Church’s call in mysterio “Maranatha—The Lord is coming”? The former promotes the latter, but the latter does not continue the former—this is the nice degree of distinction into which your reviewer is led by Father Crichton in his opening exposition of the theology of the constitution; and it is a distinction that must be tested to show if it belongs more to logic than to God.

The book is primarily a lead toward an intelligent and vigorous application of the council constitution in England; but indirectly it signals new beginnings for interchurch dialogue. It could also remind Protestantism to reassess the “active and conscious participation” of its own congregations, and inspire the council to include experimental versions of the Mass in Western vernaculars even in this next session.

ANGUS W. MORRISON

On The Rugged Frontiers

Men of God, by H. H. Rowley (Nelson, 1963, 306 pp., $8.50), is reviewed by J. Hardee Kennedy, dean, School of Theology, New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, New Orleans, Louisiana.

With the publication of Men of God, students of the Old Testament must acknowledge increased indebtedness to Dr. H. H. Rowley, emeritus professor of Hebrew language and literature at the University of Manchester. The materials are not new, for the eight lectures making up the book were originally delivered in the John Rylands Library and appeared subsequently in the Bulletin of the library. Reissued now in an attractive single volume, they are given the prospect of an appreciably larger circulation.

Each lecture is concerned with a particular aspect of the life or work of a major Old Testament personage. Chapter titles suggest the segments of study: Moses and the Decalogue, Elijah on Mount Carmel, The Marriage of Hosea, Hezekiah’s Reform and Rebellion, The Early Prophecies of Jeremiah in Their Setting, The Book of Ezekiel in Modern Study, Nehemiah’s Mission and Its Background, Sanballat and the Samaritan Temple.

A rare combination of reverence and critical acumen marks this forthright approach to troublesome problems in serious study of the Old Testament. In a manner characteristic of his prodigious literary work, the author chooses knotty problems and live issues in current historical research and textual analysis. This he does with an unmistakable perspective of sturdy faith in the basic importance and revelational nature of the biblical materials under scrutiny.

Noteworthy also is the superior skill with which Rowley carries out a dual mission in communication with specialist and non-specialist readers. Since each study is relatively brief, self-contained, and free of technical language, the student having little specialized training is enabled to appreciate the present position of scholarship on many thorny questions in Old Testament study. At the same time, the exacting standards of the specialist are satisfied. The text is marked by cogent argument and the use of scholarly resources and includes extensive footnotes directing the researcher to a wide range of literature and viewpoints. Indices of subjects, authors, and biblical texts provide a useful supplement.

Incisive observations, widely scattered and axiom-like, are a third notable feature. For example: “For religion every age is an age of peril. Sometimes it lies in the tendency to decay from within and sometimes in attacks from without” (p. 37). “But history rarely goes along the lines laid down by the planners, because so many factors other than reason go into its making” (p. 276).

The author’s well-known advocacy of the Kenite hypothesis is sharply articulated in the treatment of Moses’s relation to the Decalogue, but his failure to cite the alternatives is unfortunate. Elsewhere the prevailing method is “a brief summary of the problem and of the solutions” (p. 228). Repetition is natural, even inevitable, in the works of so prolific a writer (e.g., pp. 17, 228); but in the present volume restatement is discreetly pertinent and succinct, and it neither bores nor distracts. The final chapter is inappropriately titled “Sanballat and the Samaritan Temple.” This investigation is actually an extension of the preceding chapter and is concerned principally with the relation of Nehemiah to the establishment of the Temple.

Men of God is a work of extraordinary scholarship that boldly probes frontiers at difficult points. The strongly reasoned contention that the religion of Yahwism had some form of Decalogue as far back as it may be traced, and that nothing less than the person of Moses and the occasion of the covenant could account for the Ethical Decalogue, is not easily challenged. Against the chaotic state of criticism. Rowley adduces formidable evidence for the essential unity of the Book of Ezekiel and for a Babylonian ministry of the prophet immediately before and after the fall of Jerusalem, thus concurring with Muilenburg, Ellison, and others in returning to the critical position of half a century ago. Appeal to the Elephantine papyri for comparative dates in the Persian period yields a cogent argument for reversal of the traditional Ezra-Nehemiah sequence and clarification of biblical notices on Nehemiah’s mission, but the results must be viewed as probability and not proof.

J. HARDEE KENNEDY

A Mennonite Challenge

The Christian Witness to the State, by John Howard Yoder (Faith and Life, 1964, 90 pp., $1.50), is reviewed by William A. Mueller, professor of church history, New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, New Orleans, Louisiana.

In this book, written with clarity and with great perception of the problem, Professor Yoder presents a fresh Mennonite view of the church-and-state issue. The perennial question of the pacifist on the harmonizing of force and non-resistance is answered in depth, with the biblical witness always clearly in view. Reinhold Niebuhr, with whom the author has grappled in utmost seriousness, holds that the Mennonite type of pacifism has validity only as a symbolic reminder to all Christians of the absolute demand of the Gospel. Is this position then irrelevant, since Mennonites do not claim to determine the policy of the state? Yoder denies this emphatically. Christ is even now Lord of all men. The state as an order of preservation and providence against rampant evil safeguards the existence of the Church. In fact, the very meaning of history—“and therefore the significance of the state—lies in the creation and the work of the church” (p. 13). The true Christian believer ought to have a constant concern for the highest welfare of his nation and for the statesmen that control its destiny.

How does the Christian witness to the state express itself concretely? Yoder answers: (1) by the Church’s own obedience to Christ’s “standard of discipleship” (p. 16); (2) by a constant acknowledgment of Christ’s Lordship in Christian decision-making; (3) by creative imagination within the Christian community; (4) by work toward specific goals. Through pastoral counsel, constructive social criticism, warnings to the state against overreaching itself, and, on the part of believers, wariness of utopianism, the Church, whether pacifist or non-pacifist, may fulfill her witness towards the state.

The analysis of the traditional Roman Catholic, Lutheran, and Reformed views of church-state relations is worth pondering. But Yoder holds that “all of the positions analyzed thus far, conservative or liberal, old or new, pacifist or not, have one thing in common. They speak of the moral problem of an entire society without considering faith as a decisive dimension” (p. 68). Nor does Yoder agree with those who demand that the Christian must have a clearly defined theory about the state before he can validly act and bear his witness. Mennonites, on the other hand, are summoned to a new creative interaction, under Christ’s absolute Lordship, with the best interests of the state.

WILLIAM A. MUELLER

Book Briefs

The Face on the Cutting Room Floor: The Story of Movie and Television Censorship, by Murray Schumach (William Morrow, 1964, 304 pp., §6.95). How movie and television censorship operates in a maze of all kinds of pressures and counterpressures; told with more sensationalism than moral concern.

The Catholic Church and Nazi Germany, by Guenter Lewy (McGraw-Hill, 1964, 416 pp., $7.50). The author researches the controversial matter of the role the Roman Catholic Church played, or failed to play, in Hitlerian Germany.

A. W. Tozer: A Twentieth Century Prophet, by David J. Fant, Jr. (Christian Publications, 1964, 180 pp., $3.50).

Priest and Worker: The Autobiography of Henri Perrin, translated by Bernard Wall (Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1964, 247 pp., $4.95). The story of the priest-worker kind of missionary effort that developed after World War II and was suppressed by Rome in 1954. Material is gathered from the notes and letters of the late Frenchman, Father Henri Perrin.

Daniel: Dialogues on Realization, by Martin Buber, translated by Maurice Friedman (Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1964, 147 pp., §4). First published in 1913, Buber’s Daniel now in translation throws light on a transition stage in Buber’s movement toward a philosophy of dialogue. For students only.

An Introduction to the Apocryphal Books of the Old and New Testament, by H. T. Andrews, revised and edited by Charles F. Pfeiffer (Baker, 1964, 141 pp., §2.95). Written sixty years ago but revised and brought up to date. A good readable introduction.

The Celebration of the Gospel: A Study in Christian Worship, by H. Grady Hardin, Joseph D. Quillian, Jr., and James F. White (Abingdon, 1964, 192 pp., §3.25). A thoughtful and profitable discussion of Christian worship as seen within the context of the whole Gospel.

Black Man’s America, by Simeon Booker (Prentice-Hall, 1964, 230 pp., $4.95). A Negro reporter in outspoken, hard-hitting language tells the story of the bitterness, politics, resentment, and hopes that are the civil rights revolution.

Plain Talk about Christian Words, by Manford George Gutzke (Royal Publishers, 1964, 222 pp., $3.95). Extended definition and study of nine basic biblical words.

The Theology of Marriage: The Historical Development of Christian Attitudes Toward Sex and Sanctity in Marriage, by Joseph E. Kerns, S. J. (Sheed & Ward, 1964, 302 pp., §6). A Roman Catholic view on what happens to a man and his spiritual life when he marries.

The John Birch Society: Anatomy of a Protest, by J. Allen Broyles (Beacon, 1964, 169 pp., $4.50). A New England Methodist minister presents a documented critical analysis of the history, personnel, goals, and methods of the John Birch Society.

The Apostolic Fathers, Vol. I, by Robert M. Grant (Nelson, 1964, 193 pp., §4). An introduction to the Apostolic Fathers and to many commentaries on their writings.

In the Rustling Grass, by Herbert F. Brokering and Sister Noemi (Augsburg, 1964, 64 pp., §3.50). A Lutheran clergyman and a Benedictine nun combine words and photographs to convey, rather uniquely, the story of the life of Christ.

Paperbacks

What Was Bugging Ol’ Pharaoh?, by Charles M. Schulz (Warner, 1964, 64 pp., §1). The creator of “Peanuts” carries on his unique ministry in these cartoons dealing with teen-age utterances such as “Somehow, singing choruses around an electric barbecue never seems to do much for me!” Minister and parents: please note.

The Boy Who Ran Away: The Parable of the Prodigal Son, by Irene Elmer; Eight Bags of Gold, by Janice Kramer; The Good Samaritan: The Story of the Good Neighbor, by Janice Kramer; The Rich Tool: A Parable of a Man and His Treasures, by Janice Kramer, all illustrated by Sally Mathews; The Great Surprise: The Story of Zacchaeus, by Mary Warren, illustrated by Betty Wind (Concordia, 1964, 32 pp., $.35 each). Well-written stories for children in a very attractive format.

Till We Have Faces: A Myth Retold, by C. S. Lewis (Eerdmans, 1964, 313 pp., $1.95). A significant but hard-to-categorize novel by the late C. S. Lewis. First published in 1956.

The Holy Bible (World, 1964, 1100 pp., $1.95). The Revised Standard Version in a quality paperback.

The Word on the Air, edited by Girault M. Jones (Seabury, 1964, 158 pp., $1.95). Twenty-six Episcopal radio sermons.

What’s Lutheran in Education?, by Allan Hart Jahsmann (Concordia, 1964, 185 pp., $2.25). Explorations into the principles and practices of Lutheran education.

The Responsible Church and the Foreign Mission, by Peter Beyerhaus and Henry Lefever (World Dominion Press, 1964, 199 pp., 10s. 6d.). An English presentation (not translation) of Beyerhaus’s German study by the same title. An important contribution to missionary thinking.

Phantastes and Lilith, by George MacDonald (Eerdmans, 1964, 420 pp., $2.45). Two fine novels by George MacDonald. W. H. Auden says of Lilith that it is equal to anything of Poe. C. S. Lewis said his reading of Phantastes was like crossing a frontier.

The Story of Theology, by R. A. Finlayson (Inter-Varsity, 1963, 55 pp., $1.25). Historical studies on some basic themes of Christian truth.

A Christian View of Modern Science, by Robert L. Reymond (Presbyterian and Reformed, 1964, 30 pp., $.60). A view of science in the perspective of C. Van Til, H. Dooyeweerd, and D. H. Vollenhoven.

Studies in Genesis One, by Edward J. Young (Presbyterian and Reformed, 1964, 105 pp., $1.50). Three articles on the first two chapters of Genesis that appeared in the Westminster Theological Journal.

A Man Called Peter, by Catherine Marshall (Fawcett Publications, 1964, 351 pp., $.75). First time in paperback.

Evangelical Theology: An Introduction, by Karl Barth (Doubleday, 1964, 184 pp., $1.25).

The Principle of Protestantism, by Philip Schaff (United Church Press, 1964, 268 pp., $4.50). Volume I of the “Lancaster Series on the Mercersburg Theology,” edited by Bard Thompson and George H. Bricker.