The primitive Church was both evangelical and catholic. There is little point in saying that the Church was evangelical before it was catholic or catholic before it was evangelical. The Church was and has been both evangelical and catholic when it has been Christian. Catholic is an adjective, as in the title of this article, and is used throughout as a description of the relevance, appeal, worship, and unity of the Christian Church. Evangelicalism, on the other hand, is more essentially related to the being of the Church. Evangelical describes the very nature of what God did in Christ for his Church and for all men who would accept him.

The Church was born in God and in his incarnation—the gift of his Son, Jesus Christ. Men enter the Church in the personal acceptance of the revelation of God in Christ. The heart of the first Christian experience in men was their perception of hope for themselves and their world in this revelation, their acceptance of the truth of it, and their commitment to it, and especially to Him in whom they found it. Such individual experience continues and grows only as it is constantly nourished by the Holy Spirit and the cumulative treasure of Christian insight in the Church through the centuries. The birth of the Christian Church then lay: 1. in a perfect declaration and convincing demonstration of the “good news” of God in Christ, and 2. in its common acceptance through commitment by the first Christians, and 3. in the blessing of the Holy Spirit on each individual and the group. Here in essence is the nature of Christianity and its embodiment in the Christian Church. It has been evangelical in its principle and purpose and catholic in its experience and form. The nature of the Church in its essence is evangelical; the form and expression of that nature at its best have been catholic.

The matter of definition and declaration of principle becomes relevant when one seeks to understand the currently wide acceptance of this Church which once, when it was truly evangelical and catholic, made high demands, even to martyrdom, of its adherents. Many questions have recently been raised about the widely-heralded “success” of the American churches. One critic reminds us that our revival of religion has not brought with it a new birth of morality. Another suggests that in our much talking about religion we have had too many preachers and too few sinners, and that everyone is speaking the language of piety and no one is making confession. Professor Ronald E. Osborn sets out succinctly a concern we share:

The core of our problem seems to lie in the fact that the churches have succeeded in establishing themselves within the acceptable pattern of American life just at the time when the pressure to conform has become such a powerful factor in behavior. One cannot be sure whether an applicant for church membership is seeking salvation or social respectability (The Spirit of American Christianity, Harper, 1958, p. 214 f.).

That young people have learned well from their elders in seeking acceptance and respectability is attested by William Kirkland in his analysis of campus religion: “There is a ‘ghostly quality’ about the students’ religious beliefs and practices. Normally they express a “need for religion,” but they do not expect this religion to guide and govern decisions in the secular world; such decisions are to be ‘socially determined’ ” (The Christian Century, April 17, 1957, p. 490). In this ecclesiastical dilemma it is difficult to determine whether our churches aim to lead men to seek acceptance by God or by men.

A Christian need not resort to frightening men by depicting a wrathful God or the horrors of hell to be truly evangelical, nor to demanding absolute conformity in dress, posture, or liturgy to be truly catholic. We Christians stop far short of the Gospel when we fail to remember that it is to God and not to man—not even to a religious program devised by ingenuous men—that we seek to be reconciled. To lead the Christian Church toward its duty that is both evangelical and catholic may require minimal changes in the types of our programs but, perchance, major revisions in our motivations and intentions. What we have learned about the Gospel and about man is largely accurate. Our problem is whether or not we shall be able to use this knowledge in the spirit of the Gospel and for the effective salvation of man.

So, for example, educational methods may not be ignored but rather mastered in our attempt to present the “good news” of God so convincingly and so effectively that men will accept it as their only hope. If it means more than merely leading candidates to social acceptance what, then, makes religious education Christian? Guided by Jesus’ assumption that each man before God is of supreme worth, education becomes Christian when it seeks to discover those laws of growth and learning designed by man’s Creator; to use them effectively to further God’s plan revealed in Jesus Christ, in reconciling all men to himself, and so to each other; and thus to lead them toward the attainment of that abundant life in all relationships of which all men are capable.

In a similar way the Church’s program of missions, having taken into account most of the sociological and political factors discernible in our time, may need little change in its external program to make it truly Christian. Yet here, also, our inner motivations must be subject to the same critical examination and correction. A generation ago when we “rethought” Christian missions, we quickly came to see that our programs should be more catholic in order that they might appeal to all men of all national and religious backgrounds. We sought progressively to recognize that truth which might be found in other religious faiths. In so doing we set afoot the trend which has led in some circles to the acceptance of non-Christian religions as potential major contributors to the “ultimate” religion. In some cases this has led to the surrender of the faith in the unique revelation of God in Jesus Christ, which faith alone is capable of keeping the Church’s missionary program truly Christian—evangelical in its convincing effectiveness and catholic in its universal appeal.

For many of us propriety requires a similar examination of our varied approaches to worship and liturgy. Depending on our points of emphasis, our respective national bodies give varying degrees of importance to our standing committees on religious education, missions, and revision of liturgy and worship. Yet in the final analysis all these aspects of our one great effort to be a truly Christian Church come under the same scrutiny and standard of judgment. What then makes our worship Christian? To some the answer is, “When it is evangelical”; to others, “When it is catholic.” To one the answer is, “When it saves the individual”; to another, “When it objectifies and glorifies God.” Worship becomes Christian indeed when the individual senses his personal condition before God and through faith in Jesus Christ seeks and finds forgiving grace. Yet even such an experience would be something less than fully Christian were it not accompanied by a sincere catholic desire for similar forgiveness for others.

The quest for reconciliation with God may also fall far short of its full potential if it ignores the catholic Christian worship of the centuries. It is simply a presumption to assume that any man, or even a group in any generation, alone is able to realize fully the richness of Christian worship. Although both factors have significance in Christian worship, it is not enough that some individual shall have found peace with God or that others shall have dressed, sung, and prayed as did the Christians of the earlier centuries. While the way of doing things is important, it is not as important as the thing to be done. While the reconciliation of man to God is desired, it is not enough unless in it all God is glorified. In our experience before God we may be aided indeed when we learn how others were confronted by him through the centuries; but all this may be useless unless it becomes significant for living individuals and leads us today to receive the benediction of his grace. Such Christian worship is evangelical and catholic.

That the true Christian Church is catholic is second only in importance to the fact that it is evangelical. These two qualities of Christianity are mutually dependent and supportive. The “good news” of God may be heard by all men and seen by all in the record of the mighty acts of God. But a religious experience does not become a Christian experience until the Gospel, on the evidence of the mighty acts of God, is individually accepted as the truth and adopted as a personal faith by genuine commitment to it.

Our generation has observed a brilliant approach in depth to the problem of the nature of God’s revelation in Christ. Critical investigators of archaeological, biblical, and philosophical sources have made it possible for an intelligent person to know more about the truth of God’s revelation now than at any time since Jesus spoke to men. The essential message of the Gospel is clear. The Church knows enough to be really evangelical.

In similar manner we have come in the past generation to know more about the nature of man, his patterns of conduct and motivations for action, than at any time since man has been man. Though these patterns vary, and motivations run the gamut from complete and violently supported selfishness to disinterested altruism, these acts of men fall into discernible patterns and the known substructure underlying all human motivations clearly indicates our common universal need. In a word, all men are still human and, no matter what our level of achievement, we still stand before God in common need of salvation from sin through the saving grace revealed by God in Jesus Christ.

Whether the Christian Church, with her comprehensive knowledge of the Gospel, can transmit the “good news” to men, whom she understands better than ever before, and in such a fashion that we all confess our sins before God more sincerely and receive his forgiveness more effectively, remains to be seen. This may be just possible if we remember that Jesus commanded his Church to be evangelical as well as catholic. Men have usually become Christian by personal commitment to Jesus before they have discovered an expression of faith in catholic symbols, common liturgies, or accepted customs. But there is absolutely no guarantee that critical and technologically skilled approaches to biblical, symbolic, or liturgical sources will produce a more effective evangelicalism. This will depend, indeed, not upon the tools employed, or even the keenness of those tools, but rather on the persons using them. Such alert persons, who by personal commitment to Jesus Christ are possessed of a power greater than themselves, the Holy Spirit, God’s contemporary presence among men, may be able to accomplish the Christian evangelical mission in the world through the Church. The experience of personal commitment without the support of the latter stabilizing factors may indeed be reckless; the attempt to give inflexible conformity to uniform though ancient practices without a personal experience of Jesus Christ is presumptuous. Together the truly irenic evangelical and catholic spirits may yet make our churches more Christian.

Raymond W. Albright is William Reed Huntington Professor of Church History in Episcopal Theological School, Cambridge, Massachusetts. He holds the A.B. and A.M. from Franklin and Marshall College, which later conferred the D.Litt., and also the Th.D. from the Divinity School of the Protestant Episcopal Church in Philadelphia.

Preacher In The Red

NIGHT WALKER

To keep a weekend engagement, the train deposited me at a country station 11 miles from Reading on a Saturday evening in December.

I found Mrs. Green’s cottage two miles from the station.

“Take off your wet shoes and put my late husband’s slippers on. He died 12 months ago tonight.”

After supper, during which a detailed account of the good man’s homegoing was recited, Mrs. Green showed me to my bedroom from which her husband passed away 12 months ago, tonight. “I don’t sleep here since that sad occasion,” explained my hostess. “I go to my neighbors. You are not afraid?”

“No, I shall be all right.” She went with a sombre “Good night.” I heard her lock the door. Whilst in bed thinking things over, and just about to doze off, I heard shuffling footsteps on the stairs. The door opened and a tall, gauntly draped figure appeared in the pale moonlight. The bedclothes at the foot of the bed were lifted. A bony hand gripped one of my feet, released it, gripped the other, and then pulled the clothes back over and left the room. Was I dreaming? I was too dazed to speak!

How pleased I was to hear Mrs. Green humming: “Brief life is here our portion,” as she poked the fire the next morning. “Ah!” she said as I entered the kitchen, “I do hope you passed a good night.” Then she added before I could answer, “I was very concerned about you last night. I had forgotten to put a hot water bottle in your bed, so I came over and felt your feet. They were warm, so I was content.”

“Ah! Sister Green,” I said, “you are kind.”

Ye fearful saints, when so distressed, ’Tis Sister Green who’ll do her best.—The REV. J. WILLIAMS, Cinderford, Gloucester, England.

It is strange, not to say wasteful, that evangelicals and catholics so often have been more eager to take potshots at one another than to acknowledge the valiant defense which either side can make on behalf of fundamentals acknowledged to be essential to Christianity. Can one side say, for instance, that the other has not staunchly adhered to such beliefs as the divinity of Christ, his virgin birth, his resurrection from the dead, original sin, the necessity of grace and Christ’s atonement for man’s justification and salvation, and the existence of hell? If both sides have been zealous proponents of these tenets, why should not each give the other due credit for its stand? It seems that this could be done much oftener and without prejudice to the important differences which exist between evangelical protestantism and catholicism.

There are two significant areas in which both the evangelical and the catholic are in solid agreement against the ravages of the liberal. (I employ “catholic” in the sense in which I am a catholic—one who tries to adhere to that kind of Christianity which developed and existed during the centuries before, or apart from, later unilateral subtractions from and additions to that tradition. It is the consensus of the Orthodox, the Old Catholics, and Anglo-Catholics.) One of these areas is their mutual adherence (against modernism) to such creedal essentials as those just mentioned, and the other has to do with the ecumenical movement (or their mutual protest against relativism and indifferentism). While it is true that evangelical and catholic approaches to Christianity exhibit vast differences, both at least root themselves in the historic essentials of our Lord’s life as related in the Bible, and both at least acknowledge the nonrelativity of truth. In a word, both are “dogmatic” (here to be clearly distinguished from “doctrinaire”). Moreover, they believe missionary activity to be the primary call of the Church with regard to the unchurched—a stark contrast with the liberal view which holds that Judaism and other religions are good enough for their adherents, and that medical and social missions are quite enough for the more primitive heathens. These agreements are important, and even impressive.

Of course, the very different orientations of evangelicalism and catholicism are not to be overlooked nor disregarded. It will perhaps be worthwhile to mention them. Protestants are more psychologically oriented than catholics, whose thought tends strongly toward the category of substance. The preaching of the evangelical, the sacramental life of the catholic, and the activism of the liberal all stem from their differing orientations.

Without any intention of committing evangelicalism to the vagaries of Barthianism, I would say it is nonetheless true that Karl Barth’s threefold Word—revealed, written, preached—emphasizes the difference of protestantism, especially evangelicalism, from catholicism, with its emphasis on Christ’s threefold Body—incarnate, eucharistic, and mystical. The focal point of protestant edifices has traditionally been the pulpit, and this has put the emphasis on the parallelism of revelation, Scripture, and proclamation (for the evangelical; moral teaching, for the liberal) centered in Christ crucified. Conversely, the catholic sees incarnation, sacrament, and mystery as synonymous for very real, if paradoxical, marriages of heaven with earth, Spirit with matter, eternity with time: these are central for him, just as the altar is the center of a catholic church.

Naturally, great conflicts arise out of such differing viewpoints. But cannot the honest evangelical view be appreciated by the catholic, and the honest catholic view by the evangelical, in the face of a relativism which would make any dogmatic position meaningless? At least, evangelical and catholic doctrines all trace themselves back to Holy Writ.

The second area, which was mentioned above, wherein evangelicalism and catholicism stand together against liberalism is their common rejection of the heterodox notions that either the largest sum of tenets or the least common denominator of them equals the truth. Thus, while longing passionately for the reunion of Christendom, both groups disdain that kind of ecumenism which is based on such errors. Why, then, should not an evangelical proponent of “faith alone” be just as adamant as the Anglo-Catholic in opposing schemes to ordain clergy who have no intention of fulfilling their vows? There seems, therefore, to be no reason why the true evangelical and the true catholic should completely distrust each other; why they should not respect sincerely held, though incompatible, theories of the ministry. Again, this can be done without abetting views which one holds to be erroneous in the other. At the same time, a vigorous witness is borne to the nonrelativity of religious truth.

Relativism in the religious field has enervated the United States. This was clear from the reports on the brainwashing of American servicemen captured by the enemy in Korea. Orthodox believers showed a much better record of integrity than those whose steadfastness had been vitiated by inroads of liberalism. Here evangelical and catholic could establish a solid front against liberalism were they to forsake their wasteful attacks on one another in certain areas.

We may summarize the matter by saying that while the catholic agrees with the liberal more than with the evangelical in respect to the place of reason in religious thinking, the catholic’s conclusions and his premises accord far more with those of evangelicalism than liberalism. Evangelical and catholic alike reject the relativism of liberals; they do differ, however, insofar as the former stresses the psychological aspects (“the Word”) of Christianity and the latter stresses the substantial—he would say “the incarnational”—phases of Christianity. Each stands together in his emphasis upon sin, grace, retribution, and Christ’s divinity, humanity, crucifixion, and resurrection.

Charles-James N. Bailey has been Rector of Christ Church, Richmond, Kentucky, and Chaplain of Episcopal students at Berea College and Eastern Kentucky State College since 1956. He holds the A.B. and S.T.B. degrees from Harvard, and has pursued further studies at Basel University and Cambridge. Shortly he expects to leave for Portuguese East Africa where he will serve as missionary in the Diocese of Lebombo.

Final Arbiter

I call on reason but to no avail. There is no key to fit this lock. Like Job I seek an answer. There is none. Thoughts circle endless as a clock.

The will is arbiter of fate, I thought. Here is man’s glory and his shame. This sovereign power crowns him as a king. Sole source of triumph and of blame.

The arrogant delusion is exposed. The pride expires that made the boast. God is the final arbiter, not man. I bow before the Holy Ghost.

MILDRED ZYLSTRA

A common feature of modern evangelical speech and writing is to surrender the great word “catholic” to the Roman church, and to fear that patristic support may perhaps be found for Romanist innovations even though they obviously have no biblical or apostolic sanction. This mistake was not made by the sixteenth century Reformers. From the time of Zwingli onwards the doctrines of the Middle Ages were rejected not merely as nonbiblical but also as noncatholic, that is, as innovations which had no authority even in the early centuries. If the primary appeal was very rightly to Scripture, it was commonly agreed by all the Reformers that even by the test of catholicity the doctrinal and practical errors of the day could not stand.

JEWEL’S CHALLENGE TO ROME

Nowhere, perhaps, was this more dramatically and emphatically stated than at the Paul’s Cross sermon of November 26, 1559, in the early and critical days of the English Elizabeth. The preacher was John Jewel, Bishop-designate of Salisbury. A disciple of Ridley and Cranmer, and one of the most learned patristic scholars of his time, as well as a warm admirer and friend of Peter Martyr, Jewel had recently returned from Swiss exile during the fierce persecution in the days of Mary. His exile had been passed happily and profitably enough under the hospitable roof of Peter Martyr in Zurich, and Jewel had devoted himself to perfecting his knowledge of the Fathers by reading and conference. Already in the earlier part of the year he seems to have preached a first sermon at Paul’s Cross, but it was in November, 1559, and again in March, 1560, that he flung out the famous challenge which was to determine the course of most of his future writing.

The key point in the sermon came when Jewel stated a number of specific articles in the current sacramental theology of Romanism, and then made the bold offer that “if any learned man alive were able to prove any [such articles] … by any one clear or plain sentence of the scriptures, or of the old doctors, or of any old general council, or by any example of the primitive church, for the space of six hundred years after Christ, he would give over and subscribe unto him” (Works, Parker Society Ed., Vol. I, pp. 20, 21). In other words, Jewel offered to accept any or all the articles if they could be unequivocally supported by even a single sentence from any one father or council of the first six centuries, quite apart from the statements of the Bible itself.

Even the friends of Jewel, who knew of his learning, seemed to fear he had overreached himself, for, after all, the fathers had written so much that support for almost any opinion could be found somewhere or at some time in their works. Yet the response to his challenge was meager. Supporters of the medieval positions treated it with disdain. The facts were supposedly so obvious that there was no point in attempting to prove the antiquity of these or other articles. Yet no actual statements were adduced. Hence in March, 1560, first at court and then before a vast and expectant crowd at Paul’s Cross, Jewel repeated and enlarged his challenge. Quoting first some of the false doctrines in relation to Holy Communion, he showed that they were plainly contrary to “so many old fathers, so many doctors, so many examples of the primitive church, so manifest and plain words of the holy scriptures,” and that “not one father, not one doctor, not one allowed example of the primitive church doth make for them.” He then recalled the original challenge which he had made, increased the number of the articles which he was willing to take into account, and confessed again his willingness to yield to them if in any one they could provide “such sufficient authority of scriptures, doctors, or councils as I have required” (ibid., pp. 21, 22).

On this occasion the challenge was taken up by two main supporters of the old order. The first was Dr. Cole, and it is noticeable that he made no attempt whatever to produce the evidence which Jewel demanded. He simply argued that the articles concerned relatively minor matters, and that it was for Jewel himself to produce the evidence for his own views, since he was the innovator. The second disputant was Dr. Harding, and he introduced a wide range of subsidiary matters which inevitably entangled Jewel in one of those prolonged theological disputes for which the latter part of the sixteenth century was famous. But the interesting feature is that Harding is no more successful than Cole in pointing to a single sentence or canon from the early days of the Church, let alone a verse or passage of Scripture, in support of the articles of medieval sacramental teaching and practice which Jewel had cited.

The full ramifications of the challenge and the ensuing controversy cannot be pursued, of course, in the present context. But there are features of it which call for notice and which may perhaps help us to see our way a little more clearly and firmly in relation not only to the errors but also to the spurious claims advanced by the Roman church right up to the present.

INNOVATION AND SCHISM

The first is quite simply that the Roman church itself is historically the church of innovation and therefore of schism from catholic and apostolic doctrine. We see this most clearly today in such new formulations as papal infallibility and the assumption of Mary. With our longer historical perspective, we do not quite appreciate as did the sixteenth century Reformers the comparative newness of compulsory confession and transubstantiation. But the Reformers were very conscious that in these and in a host of matters the medieval church had been guilty of the most serious departure from the catholic as well as the scriptural norm. It needs to be said quite bluntly that so long as she maintains these new positions the Roman church forfeits her claim to be catholic, and should not be allowed to appropriate to herself this honorable description.

TRUE CATHOLICISM

But this leads us to the second point, namely, that the Protestants themselves were conscious of being the true catholics in their very protest against Romanist innovation. Their main appeal was naturally to Holy Scripture as the supreme norm. But they realized that the first fathers were witnesses and commentators who deserved careful and respectful study, and that, so far as Scripture allows, the doctrine and practice of the present should also conform to that of the earliest days of the Church. In other words, the struggle for evangelical teaching is the struggle for true catholicism as opposed to a perverted and schismatic pseudo catholicism; and the most careful searching of the first centuries revealed that, while there were many things which did not stand the test of Holy Scripture, no clear support could be found for the medieval innovations. Protestant churches, following the example of the Reformation fathers, ought boldly to maintain their true catholicity to the extent that they are still true to their original confessions.

It is to be remembered, however, that neither Jewel nor any of the Reformation leaders gave to the fathers or councils of the first centuries an authority equal to that of Holy Scripture. For the purpose of the challenge Jewel declared himself ready to accept either fathers or Scriptures, but his own writings make it plain that for him as for all Reformers the Bible was the supreme norm. In other words, no doctrine or practice can be truly catholic unless it is apostolic. Even the teaching or practice of the first centuries ceases to be catholic to the extent that it is not plainly apostolic, that is, to the extent that it has no basis in the writings of the apostles. The catholic church is the church which is subject to and therefor reformable by the Word of God in Holy Scripture, which is for her the supreme rule of faith and conduct. Appeals to antiquity or to judgments or precedents are no substitute for this final guarantee. To be truly catholic, it is essential to be apostolic and therefore to be scriptural. Those whose norm is the Bible are the true catholics.

Geoffrey W. Bromiley is Professor of Church History in Fuller Theological Seminary, Pasadena, California, and author of several published volumes on the Reformation period.

Preacher In The Red ¹For each report by a minister of the Gospel of an embarrassing moment in his life, Christianity Today will pay $5 (upon publication). To be acceptable, anecdotes must narrate factually a personal experience, and must be previously unpublished. Contributions should not exceed 250 words, should be typed double-spaced, and bear the writer’s name and address. Upon acceptance, such contributions become the property of Christianity Today. Address letters to: Preacher in the Red, Christianity Today, 1014 Washington Building, Washington 5, D. C.

HE LOOKED TOO YOUNG

As everyone knows, there are some individuals who look younger than their years. I am one of those. Some years ago I held a private Communion service for a dear old lady of my congregation whose years had not only confined her to her home, but also had left her with a mind which often became confused. The following Sunday two women visitors reported to me that they had called on the shut-in and found her feeling very sorry for the minister because he was ill. “Poor dear,” she told them, “he is terribly ill and is having a lot of trouble.” “Oh, I don’t think so,” replied one of the visitors who was unfamiliar with her condition. “Indeed,” insisted the old lady, “he is very sick, but he did not forget me.” Realizing her mental confusion and deciding to “go along” with her, the spokesman said, “It’s too bad the minister is sick. We must go to visit him too; but tell me, why do you say he did not forget you?” “Well,” replied the old lady, “he sent his son to have communion with me, and I thought it was so considerate of him with all that trouble of his own.”—The Rev. R. C. TODD, Kitchener Street United Church, Niagara Falls, Canada.

It is one of the ironies of our day that while Sunday church attendance in America is at an all-time high, the majority of Protestants attend no divine services regularly. The situation is tragic too in that for Christians the hour of public worship is the most eventful hour of every week. The anonymous author of Hebrews intimated as much when he solemnly warned his readers about “neglecting to meet together as is the habit of some.” What then are the primary values of corporate worship which make its faithful observance on the part of Christians so imperative and its neglect so perilous?

COMMUNION WITH GOD

First, in the worship services of the Church we have personal communion with the living God in Jesus Christ who is present in his Spirit.

Some years ago the secret police broke in on a group of Russian peasants who, in open defiance of the law, had assembled for worship. The police carefully recorded the identity of each offender and then made ready to leave. But at the door an elderly man stopped the commanding officer and said, “There is one name you missed.” The agent confidently assured him that he was guilty of no oversight. But when the Christian continued to disagree, the officer said: “All right, we shall count again.” The second count verified the first—30 names—and he shouted, “See, I told you I have them all!” Still the peasant insisted that one name was missing. “Well, what is it then?” snapped the agent. “The Lord Jesus Christ,” answered the old man. “He is here too!” And he was.

Jesus said, “where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” It is true, of course, that our risen and glorified Lord is present with us as individuals at all times, in all places, and under all circumstances. He also said to his disciples as individuals: “I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world.” But this former promise suggests that in the services of worship the presence of Christ is somehow qualitatively different from and more perceptible than that same presence in our lives under other circumstances. We may not be able to define that difference, but if our spiritual senses are on pitch on the Lord’s Day we know it to be so.

A man who wished greatly to hear Robert Murray McCheyne preach attended his church one Sunday in Dundee. Upon his early arrival, he anxiously inquired of a member of the congregation, “Can you tell me for certain whether Mr. McCheyne will be here today?” The parishoner answered, “I do not know whether our preacher will be here, but I do know Jesus Christ will be here.” That was a fitting rebuke and may be addressed to many of us today. Sunday services are not occasions for paying tribute to the man behind the pulpit. Rather, they are gracious invitations and sacred opportunities to enter the presence of the living God who condescends to meet with us in Jesus Christ.

Communion with Deity is a universal need of man. Unlike the brutes, we were created for intimate fellowship with our Creator. This is one of the fundamental truths of which Adam in Paradise is symbolic. Before his fall, Adam enjoyed perfect bliss. In his garden sanctuary he had free access to the revealed and immediate presence of God. Man’s soul is homesick until he makes his home in God. Communion with Deity is not merely our privilege; it is the foremost reason for our existence. With profound insight Augustine prayed, “Thou hast made us for thyself, and our hearts are restless till they find their rest in thee.”

Obviously, one can best commune with God where the divine Presence is most perceptible. The patriarchs erected their altars and returned again and again to worship at those places where God had appeared to them and opened the windows of their souls to his Presence. Thus, for example, after many years Jacob came back to Bethel where, as a fugitive from Esau, he dreamed his immortal dream of the ladder stretched from earth to heaven. The descendants of the patriarchs congregated at the tabernacle, and later at the temple, because it was here in the Holy of Holies that God took up his special abode among men and manifested his glory. Likewise in the Christian dispensation, the divine Presence is mediated to us through Christ most fully in the midst of his worshiping people. Here our communion with God reaches its highest intensity. Because our spiritual faculties are what they are, we need this particular experience each Lord’s Day to keep alive our sense of God’s presence with us through the rest of the week.

Divine worship is of inestimable value because it provides the setting in which we meet the risen Christ who unites us to the living God.

A MEANS OF GRACE

It follows, therefore, that services of worship are also a means of grace. We use this expression frequently, but it may be helpful to define it. Grace is God’s free and unmerited gift of salvation and the dynamic whereby we are enabled to live the new life in Christ. The means of grace are those special media through which God communicates to us his abundant, saving and sanctifying grace.

Worship is one of these media. Moreover, its composite character brings together three basic means of grace, namely, the Word, the sacraments, and prayer. Whenever our communion with the living God in worship is consummated, something significant transpires within us. On the one hand, we come into judgment. Before One who is infinite and terrible in his holiness, our hearts can no longer hide their dark secrets. We feel the penetrating power of his searching eyes and know that to him we are as open books. We perceive the frightful contrast between what we ought to be and what we actually are. We become conscious of sins of which we were long ignorant, but which have cast their shadows across our souls and robbed us of our peace. We sense more keenly the justness of divine wrath.

But mercy is added to judgment, and so we also feel the impact of our Lord’s purifying, transforming, and energizing power. Like Isaiah in the temple, we are at once cleansed and renewed. We pass from death into life. The archbishop Richard Trench wrote these immortal lines:

“Lord, what a change within us one short hour
Spent in Thy presence will avail to make,
What heavy burdens from our bosoms take,
What parched grounds refresh as with a shower!”

Our renewal prompts us to respond to divine overtures of love with further decisions and commitments which deepen our discipleship, expand our spiritual capacities, advance us in holiness, and enlarge our service. It was in such a moment that Isaiah heard and answered the call to prophetic office in Israel. And with each repetition of this experience we enter more fully into the joy of our Lord.

Viewed from a slightly different perspective, what we are now discussing may be designated the therapeutic value of corporate worship. Because there is such value in worship, the results of absenteeism are spiritually disastrous. A member, living next door to a church I once served, and having attended it only three times during my pastorate, was taken to the hospital and confined there for one week. Nearly that whole week passed before I learned of her illness, and when I made my first visit, she was convalescing at home. As I entered her room, she startled me with the greeting, not spoken in jest, “Where the devil have you been?” Then she explained how she had succumbed to such a state of spiritual depression while in the hospital that she summoned the resident clergyman, a Roman priest. Now if this woman had included divine services in her regular Sunday schedule, she would have had at least a minimum of inner spiritual resources to fall back on in her hour of crisis. Preachers who are eager to help people whenever spiritual crisis arise in their lives agree that those who make the greatest private demands on their time, pester them with petty problems, and crave spiritual pampering, are for the most part the very ones who neglect regular public worship.

Corporate worship is a means of grace. And it is a mistake to suppose we can derive its full benefits via radio or television. There is a mystical something which the air waves never pick up nor transmit, but which is reserved for those who make their way to the sanctuary.

AN OPPORTUNITY FOR WITNESS

Again, the worship services of the Church afford us an opportunity to witness in public to our faith in Jesus Christ. Both the apostles and our Lord himself make it clear that witnessing is not optional, but obligatory. It is a duty of the Christian life none of us can evade. But unfortunately many of us stereotype this witness and restrict it to the spoken word. It cannot be denied that verbal testimony is the primary mode in which our Christian witness finds its expression. A professing Christian whose lips remain sealed to open declaration of his Redeemer’s grace and who never says to anyone, “Hear what my Lord has done for me!” is at best an enigma. Our words may not be eloquent, but like Andrew we must tell others about Jesus.

Nevertheless, witnessing is not to be limited to the spoken word alone. Other types of testimony are equally valid, and attendance at divine worship is among them. Every time we walk or drive our cars to church, we are saying in effect to those about us: “We believe in Jesus Christ. We are citizens of his Kingdom. In his Gospel we have found deliverance from sin in this life and hope for eternity. Surely this kind of witnessing everyone of us can do without hesitation. We may not be at liberty to press the claims of Christ verbally on a certain unregenerate neighbor, friend, or relative, but we can work toward the same goal in this unoffensive way.

We ought not to underestimate the effectiveness of such witness. The blatant skeptic whose blasphemous ridicule of the Church and her Lord chills our souls, the practicing atheist who carelessly devours even the Lord’s Day in materialistic pursuits, and the shameless violator of moral law, are taking note, perhaps unconsciously, of our habitual attendance at services of worship. Over a period of time the totality of this weekly impact may drive a wedge into people’s lives for the Gospel. More likely will this happen if, upon returning from church, our faces reflect the joy and peace that worship is designed to impart. The Lord Christ has walked into many hearts and homes simply because some devout believer walked down the street and up the steps to his church every Sunday in fair weather and foul.

Corporate worship gives us an excellent opportunity to witness of our Saviour and Lord.

ULTIMATE FUNCTION OF THE CHURCH

Furthermore, corporate worship is the ultimate function of the Church. The Westminster Shorter Catechism opens with the affirmation: “Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy Him forever.” This is equally definitive with reference to the Church. The best way we can glorify God is to worship him humbly, adoringly, and reverently.

In the present world the Church is essentially a redemptive community. Each member shares the divine commission to confront the world with the Gospel, to pursue the lost wherever they have strayed, even to the uttermost regions of the earth. We are to proclaim to men God’s good news of reconciliation through the Cross of his Son. We are to dispel their gloom and fear with the message of Bethlehem, Calvary, and the Empty Tomb. In the face of the universal human predicament we have been commanded by our Lord and constrained by his redeeming love to take up the evangelistic burden.

But toward God the Church, even now in the context of this world, is a worshiping community. Whereever a group of persons have embraced the Gospel they have erected a sanctuary, often at great personal sacrifice. The crowning attraction of not a few communities is their beautiful churches. Cathedrals in Europe annually draw thousands of tourists to their doors because of their grandeur and magnificence. These buildings, the objects of lavish care and maintained at tremendous expense, were dreamed into being only because public worship was essential to Christian faith, love, and life in this world.

Moreover, corporate worship is prophetic of and preparatory to the Church’s vocation in eternity. When the last page of history has been written and the dawn of eternal day breaks over all creation, the temporary redemptive toil of the Church shall come to an end. Then she shall remain the risen and exalted Body of Christ to worship everlastingly in the Holy of Holies not made by human hands. The most stirring scenes of the Apocalypse are those which vivify this theme. They fix our eyes on the Church Triumphant, in the glory of heaven, assembled in reverent worship before the throne of the holy and triune God. Then with one swelling voice the Church shall praise the Father who conceived her in his wondrous love, and the Son who purchased her with his precious blood, and the Spirit who established her by his quickening power. That is why we sing:

“Unnumbered choirs before the shining throne
Their joyful anthems raise
Till heaven’s glad halls are echoing with the tone
Of that great hymn of praise.
And all its host rejoices,
And all its blessed throng
Unite their myriad voices
In one eternal song.”

Corporate worship is the ultimate function of the church of Jesus Christ.

The most eventful hour of every week is that of public worship, when Christians across the world gather in the earthly sanctuaries of the Most High God. As ministers of the Lord, we have a solemn responsibility to make our services as spiritually rich and meaningful as possible. And as true believers, we need to make the sanctuary our Sabbath home.

Richard Allen Bodey is Minister of Third Presbyterian Church, North Tonawanda, New York. He holds the A.B. degree from Lafayette College and the B.D. from Princeton Theological Seminary. Books are his special interest; in his library of 2,200 works are many volumes bearing the autographs of giants from the past such as Liddon, Stalker, and Alexander.

We Quote:

DECLINE OF THEOLOGY—“Liberalism dealt much more drastically with the corpus of Christian theology than any movement since the Reformation. Indeed it was several times more violent a rupture than the Reformation. It threw orthodox theology into such disorder, and replaced its formulae with such irrelevant truisms or distortions, that theology as a reputable body of knowledge threatened to disappear. It is this destruction of organized theology that made the inter-denominational cooperation of the ecumenical movement possible. The integration of Reformed and Congregational theologies was unthinkable in any other generation. It is only the death of theological formulations in both denominations that makes such a union as the present Congregational-Reformed merger feasible.” —PAUL B. DENLINGER, Professor, Tunghai University, Taichung, Taiwan.

The essential nature of the Church eludes precise definition. If formulated from a particular perspective, any definition of the Church can miss what makes the Church a living reality. When it is defined, for instance, from the perspective of its ministry (apostolic succession), or of election (the Church as the gathering of the elect), or of experience (the Church as a voluntary association of those who can testify to conversion), its definition loses something of the wholeness of the New Testament Church.Smedes

THE FULNESS OF CHRIST

It should be clearly understood that the Church is what it is only through a living relationship with the living Lord. When we seek to inquire into the nature of the Church we must ask what Jesus Christ is to the Church and what the Church is to Jesus Christ. As an entity in itself, the Church is of no ultimate significance and of no genuine power.

The Church becomes significant and speaks with genuine power only through a living relationship with Jesus Christ. Ecclesiology is not Christology to be sure, but ecclesiology is never but a hair’s breadth removed from Christology. The Church is the fulness of him that filleth all in all; this is the New Testament view. The Fathers put it this way: ubi Christus, ibi ekklesia. But for this reason, the Church’s nature is not something we can capture in a few sentences of definition. The Church is what she is created to be by the relationship she has to her Lord, a relationship that looks to the past, labors and worships in the present, and anticipates the future—all in Jesus Christ. We cannot confine the nature of the Church within a precise definition; we can only enter further and further by our study and service into her many-sided and mysterious inner life.

I would not want now to betray what I have just said by proceeding to delineate the Church’s relationship to Christ with dogmatic precision. We do well if we are able to suggest something that will help us get our bearings for future excursions into the mystery. An etymological study of the word ekklesia gives us little to go on. A pagan Greek, who had known and used the word before Paul, would not have known what Paul meant by its Christian meaning. The Hellenists of Alexandria adopted it as translation for the Hebrew Qahal, although the reason for this is not clear. That they did and that Paul continued the use of ekklesia for the New Testament Church underscores the continuity of the New with the Old Testament Church. Both ekklesia and Qahal designate the people called of God for his service, a distinct people set apart from the peoples of the world. But in the New Testament ekklesia becomes the ekklesia of Jesus Christ as well as the ekklesia of God (Rom. 16:16; 1 Cor. 1:2). The ekklesia becomes the habitation of God and of Christ through the Spirit. While continuity of the Qahal in the ekklesia indeed exists, there is a difference between the two: in the former Christ is promised and anticipated, in the latter Christ has come, is remembered, proclaimed, experienced, and anticipated again. The new relationship to Jesus Christ creates the fuller realization of the nature of the Church. And this relationship must hold our attention now.

RELATIONSHIP TO CHRIST

We may describe this relationship, first of all, as retrospective. As the Old Testament Church lived by promise, so the New Testament Church lives by memory. The Church is called out of the world by the proclamation of what happened in the past. The Good News of the event that took place once and for all in time past is the evangel for the world proclaimed by the Church, but is at the same time the kerygma that calls the Church into existence. Those who have been obedient to the Word that called them to faith in the Cross and Resurrection of Christ make up the Church. Whatever else shall be said about the Church’s relationship to Christ, this comes first: the living Lord of the Church is the Servant who bought the Church with his blood on the tree. What was done back there outside the gate is what makes the Church what she is. And the Church lives by faith in the memory of that unrepeatable sacrifice made for her atonement. The fact that the Church has a memory gives her a Word to proclaim, not of ideals or ideas, but of something done in history by the God of history.

Secondly, the relationship is anticipatory. The Church expects her Lord, and her expectation defines the nature of the Church. Eschatology is not a set of propositions about the ending of the world; the Church does not hope merely for a future golden age. The Church’s expectation of Christ and his completion of what he has begun through his Spirit in the Church constitutes her hope. The Church is what she is and does what she does because of what she looks forward to in Christ. Understood in this way, eschatology is the accelerated heartbeat of the Church that looks for the consummation of what she already is in Christ. Christ is in us, the hope of glory! And the Holy Spirit of Christ, given to the Church and creating the Church, is the down payment or earnest of her future (Eph. 1:14; Rom. 8:23; 2 Cor. 1:22).

Thirdly, the Church’s relationship to Christ is one of subordination. Jesus Christ is Lord of the Church. Not only is he that Lamb once slain, but he is the slain Lamb now become the living Lion, the Monarch, King, and Head. These words may paint different shadings in the picture, but they all mean that the Church lives in obedience, service, and total subjugation to him. The Church is his Kingdom, his domain, his creation. No matter what we say later of the intimacy of her union with him, the union of the Church with Christ is a union of the Lord with his subordinate people. Any Church which sets up rules, regulations, autonomy, or hierarchy that detract from the exclusive Lordship of Jesus Christ has become a sect. The true Church is that body which continually listens to and obeys the Word of the Lord.

BODY OF CHRIST

The Church’s relationship to Jesus Christ is made up of all these characteristics and more, yet these are all associated with and in a sense dependent upon the Church’s fundamental relationship to Christ—a relationship which we may call life-union. This is partly what Paul means by his metaphor—the Body of Christ. Jesus Christ has, as it were, put himself into a living union with the Church by virtue of which his life creates the inner essence of the Church. In the Church, “as in His body, the fullness of His life and glory come to existence and development” (Van Leeuwen on Eph. 1:23). “God has given to the Church the great honor of forming one entity with the Lord Christ, in other words of completing and filling Him” (Greydanus on Eph. 1:23). Jesus Christ is in heaven, the Church is on earth. Yet an umbilical cord allows the Church to live off the life of Christ though already his offspring. That cord is the Spirit of Christ, of whom our Lord said: It is the Spirit that giveth life. Whose life? Whose life but the life of him who said: “I am the bread of life … so he that eateth me, even he shall live by me” (John 6:48, 57). The Church and Jesus Christ are as closely united, as organically joined, as the body to its head.

THE CREATIVE SPIRIT

We may recall that in the New Testament, being a Christian and being a member of the Church are shown to be two sides of the same coin. Only the modern “individualistic” mind can conceive of a Christian outside the Church. To the New Testament mind, however, becoming a Christian and joining the fellowship were parts of the same thing. A Christian, being what he was, and the Church, being what it was, made up together essentially the same thing. They comprised one body because of their common possession of the Lord Jesus Christ.

A Christian was a person born again of the Spirit. He was a new creature with new life, the life of Christ, the second-Adam, Head of the new race. This life which the Spirit generated was the life of Him from whom the Spirit came. Thus, when the Spirit is in a man it is virtually the same as Christ being in a man. Paul confirms this truth when in Romans 8:10 and 11 he makes no distinction between the Spirit and Christ. For Christ has become, as it were, the life-giving Spirit (1 Cor. 15:42–47). Hence, though Paul uses a variety of expressions—Christ in you, I in Christ, Christ dwelling in our hearts by faith, and having the Spirit—he has one intent and that is to show that the new life of Christ in the believer turns the old man into a new man, the new creature in Christ.

The same Spirit indwelling the Christ is the Spirit that informs the Church. He does not dwell in the Church as an abstraction. He indwells her as she indwells the members. As members share Christ’s life, therefore, they form one body, Christ’s body. Conversely, each has a share in the life only as each is a member of the body. We are one body because we are all baptized into one Spirit. We partake of one loaf which is Christ. The Spirit brings Christ into the body; and the members become organs of the body because of the one life which they share. The body as a whole and the members as organic parts have life-union with the incarnate Lord in heaven through the Spirit that has taken permanent residence in them. Christ is the essence of the Church. Aside from her transitory, historical, and often tattered appearance, the essence of the Church, her inner selfhood and identity, is nothing less than the life of Jesus Christ crucified and living in heaven, but translated into the Church through his creative Spirit.

EXTERNAL MANIFESTATION

What we often call the institutional Church is the tangible embodiment of this her inner life. The institutional aspects of the Church—her dogmas, her ministry, sacraments, and mission—are concrete, earthly expressions of her heart, the center of her existence which is spiritual and heavenly. But these external things are not less than essential to the inner life of the Body. They are the Body in its outward manifestation. Paul never makes a clear distinction between the spiritual life and its tangible expression. He never divides the inner, organic life from the outward, institutional life of the Church. There is only one ekklesia. It may come to expression as the ekklesia of Jerusalem, the ekklesia of Ephesus, the several ekklesiae in all parts of Judea, or the tiny ekklesia in the house of Nymphas or of Philemon. But all are equally the Church because all share equally in the whole of Christ. The particular ekklesiae are tangible expressions of the one Spirit who brings the one Life into the Body.

TENSION OF DIVISION

The oneness of the Church’s inner life with the institutional expression of that life brings us into almost unbearable tension today. The tension is caused by our institutional divisions. On one hand, we confess that the Church cannot be divided in its inner, spiritual life, for there is only one indivisible life of Christ shared by all. On the other hand, the painful disunity of the outward manifestation of that life is all too real. Yet, the essence, we have said, is inseparable from its manifestation. How is it possible for the essential life of the Church to be one, while the manifestation of that life is grotesquely divided? One way to escape this tension is to live in the illusion that the outward forms or institutions are not significant and therefore can be divided without disrupting the inner life. But this is not the apostolic way; to the apostles, the inner life and outward form are inseparable as the essence and its manifestation. Another way to escape the tension is to say that, since the inner life is the essential thing, we can heal the divisions even at the sacrifice of what we feel to be necessary to the true manifestation of the inner life. (For instance, we can heal the divisions, according to this method, at the cost of doctrinal integrity.) But this is not the apostolic way either; to the apostles, the outward expressions are to be kept pure simply because they are the manifestation of the Church’s inner life.

HEALING THE WOUND

Neither comfortable acceptance of institutional divisions nor compromising solutions to them will do as ways to ease our tension. We shall have to live with our terrible contradiction and never allow its painfulness to tempt us to take the easy way out. The tension is terrible; in seeking the purity of our Lord’s Church we seem involved in a denial of the Church’s real and essential self. We shall have to seize every opportunity of healing the wound. We shall have to be much in prayer that our Lord will hasten the day of restoration. Meanwhile, we are able to take courage in the faith that our divisions are not the last word about the Church. The last word will be said when our Lord brings the institutional life of the Church into harmony with the essence of the Church. And the essence of the Church is Jesus Christ in us, our hope of glory and our hope of unity.

Lewis B. Smedes is Professor of Bible at Calvin College. He holds the Th.B. from Calvin Theological Seminary, and Th.D. from the Free University of Amsterdam. He is author of The Incarnation: Trends in Modern Anglican Theology.

American Protestantism has not yet learned how to speak to the nation. Individual churchmen, both clergy and lay, sometimes speak a telling word incisively and constructively. But the churches as organizations have not learned—and this is increasingly clear—how to speak effectively to the Federal government or helpfully to national leaders.

Protestantism gives the general impression that it is anti-Washington, anti-government, sometimes even anti-patriotic. Rarely does it voice affirmation or approbation. Most often it is heard when there is something to condemn or oppose. Then Protestantism is loud and clamorous in rebuke.

This attitude plays into the hands of Protestantism’s historic defamers who have always said Protestantism exists only on negatives—that it is simply anti-Catholic, or that it is against the established order. Indeed, this vitiates the true meaning of Protestant, which is “to speak for,” “testify to,” or “in behalf of.” Yet too often the impression we make upon the nation’s Capitol is that history and social conditioning have made us chronic critics and perpetual protesters.

I make this observation from within the Church as a servant who loves the Church, as one who believes in church councils, and in the National Council of Churches and serving on one of its committees. I say it as a two-term president of the Washington Council of Churches.

A BRACING MINISTRY

During a pastorate in Washington covering seven Congresses and four presidential terms, I have concluded that Protestantism must find a way to speak to its own people in loving solicitude and with strong affirmations. When men of Christian character and conviction come to Washington, they are spurred to deeper dependence upon God and tend to an accelerated growth in spiritual understanding. What they miss, and what Protestantism has not learned to convey, is the shepherding word of love and concern for these sons of the Reformed faith, the pastoral word of confirmation and faith in her own sons, the bracing word of commendation where it is merited, the assuring word of identification with believers everywhere, and the life-giving note of the Gospel.

Some will say that many messages of affection and concern are dispatched. But these are often concealed in private, or do not “get through” because the dominating motif in the Protestant accent is negative. The churches are “against this”; they “denounce” that; they “deplore” so and so; they “condemn” something else. Social action “experts” peddle pronouncements from door to door and spy on the voting records of Congressmen as to whether the votes are based upon the expressions of the church convention’s most recent resolutions (as though this kind of vote were ever possible), or if possible, could be a dependable assessment of the Congressman’s Christian commitment.

I do not mean to imply that the Church should remain silent and induce quietude or acquiescence. Nor do I mean that individual leaders should vacate the prophetic ministry. Far from it! What I lament is that the Church is too often regarded as simply another secular political pressure group, and is so evaluated because she does not speak the higher word of the eternal Gospel and the word of pastoral care. Protestantism is not heard nor heeded seriously in its many notes of rebuke and condemnation because it has not uttered effectively, if at all, the prerequisite word of pastoral concern. It has not established itself sufficiently as the shepherd of souls to be regarded as discerning and authoritative in other areas.

Much of this pervasive negativism derives from the Church’s participation in political study and action without prior pastoral solicitude. In the days of the War for Independence, devoted Americans were political zealots out of religious conviction. Today, churches themselves take part in politics without the grass-roots consent of individual church members.

A new “fundamentalism” has arisen which shapes much of this activity. I do not refer to the biblical fundamentalism of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. This new “fundamentalism” has arisen as successor to the now-decadent social gospel in the pulpit. Its prophet is the social education and action “expert.” The “orthodox” persons are those who conform to the processed pronouncements guided through church bodies by the “experts.”

The expert’s vocation is presumably to direct research, to speak and write on the application of the Christian ethic to social, economic, and political concerns of the age. He prepares materials for study, evaluation, and declaration. He can also omit research in areas unattractive to him. It is asking too much of such an individual or of small groups to refrain from projecting their own social, economic, and political philosophy into the processing of resolutions and proposed actions. Such would be contrary to human nature—even redeemed human nature. It is not difficult, therefore, to see how the views of a committee or small group of “experts” to whom a project has been delegated can become the expressed views of major groups or whole denominations.

What happens in the new “fundamentalism” is that processed pronouncements in the name of the whole body tend to be asserted as the Christian view, the only authentic, valid Christian view on some social or-political topic. Then follows the hardening of these views, their investment with sacrosanct qualities, the promulgation of socio-economic views on the level of theological doctrine. The “orthodox” person then is the individual who accepts and espouses these views; the “heterodox” person is the one who challenges the social and political pronouncements—even if only because he wants to arrive at his own convictions in his own way. Too readily the “deviant” (easily stigmatized as a social and economic heretic) is then isolated from the main stream of life where these declarations are forged. Soon the views of the deviants are not spoken, because they feel their convictions will not be respected by the “experts.” They feel the resolution-framing group is closed to them, or that they will not be taken seriously by “the professionals.” Yet sometimes, as the Cleveland China declaration demonstrated, the promulgations of experts may be radically wide of the views held by the church membership. The deviant is ignored, lumped with a miscellaneous assortment of malcontents, anti-National Council maniacs, and chronic critics of everything in organized religion.

It is a fatal mistake to group perceptive and knowledgeable persons who differ with the substance and timing of certain declarations with reactionary fundamentalists or carping critics of standard brand Protestantism and to dismiss them as on the “fringe” of the Church. This can be tragic for the Church. In recent months the question has arisen with new force as to who is on the “fringe” of the Church, and who really says what the Church thinks and wants said to the nation and to the world.

A PATRIOTIC STEWARDSHIP

To say the wrong thing in the wrong way at the wrong time can be calamitous. Therefore it is all-important that there be no confusion in anybody’s mind about who is speaking, and for whom he speaks.

The Cleveland China declaration is a case in point. The Cleveland document, on the whole, had many notable passages and doubtless expressed what some able thinkers had concluded ought to be a Christian view of the various subjects. Most of this was lost to the world by the colossal tactical blunder on the Red China issue. To meet the Ambassadors of friendly Far-Eastern nations after that episode was embarrassing. For within 24 hours after publication of that passage of the report all Communist and leftist radios throughout the Far East were proclaiming that the American people had repudiated their government. Their line was: “America is a Protestant nation. The Protestants have said that the People’s Republic of China ought to be recognized by the U. S. government and admitted to the U. N.” Apart from any evaluation of substance, to provide that propaganda weapon at that time was tactically a great misfortune. And Mr. Dulles was obliged to correct the world’s false impression in his first address on his return from Mexico. The plain truth is that this statement represented the thoughtful considerations of some 600 persons and (according to dependable opinion polls) was the converse of the dominant majority of Protestant people. When declarations are made and there is the possibility of attributing the views to large groups, we Christians have a patriotic stewardship, as well as a Christian responsibility, which should restrain us from providing ideological weapons for our nation’s enemies. What is said, by whom it is said, for whom it is said, and to whom it is said ought to be made certain to the public.

We need to learn to listen as well as to speak. Sometimes a discerning, dedicated Christian in government, with the best channels of information available to him, hesitates to communicate with churchmen because we are more disposed to speak than to listen. There are responsible and dedicated Christians whose words ought to be evaluated and heeded by any who aspire to speak for the Church.

In our age churchmen have great difficulty in coming to agreement on doctrinal matters such as the nature of the Church or the validity of the ministry. They tend instead to be authoritarian in international affairs, to dogmatize in politics and to absolutize in referring to matters of social and economic doctrine.

Some of us, evangelical in our theological commitment, were interested in CHRISTIANITY TODAY, not to revive fundamentalism but because its columns were open to leaders uncommitted to this new “fundamentalism.” One useful purpose of a journal like this is to provide open columns for vast numbers of people whose views of the world, of society, and of the Church may not be fully consonant with the growing “neo-fundamentalism” of our day. The right of private judgment still rests at the heart of Protestantism.

I do not want to be misunderstood, though experience suggests that “guilt by association” is as lively inside the Church as in the secular order. I am not here despising or even minimizing social studies or political inquiry. I happen to be a sociology major who long ago discovered that sociology is essentially humanistic. And I will always have an avid interest in politics and international affairs. Many of my parishioners are politicians and diplomats. I want my concern and the concern of the Church always to be in religious terms. That is why it seems to me that when anybody or any group speaks in the name of the Church, the message must issue from an unmistakable spiritual base and that base must be erected and maintained by constant pastoral attention long before the Church speaks on the controversial theme. Only upon this well-established spiritual prerequisite can the Church expect to be heeded when it speaks to the common order of man.

The authentic prophetic role need not be neglected. The light of the gospel message should shine undimmed. The place where the true prophet stands is never congested in any age. Rarely has the prophetic word represented composite views or processed declarations. When there is utterance it must be clear who speaks, for whom he speaks, and to whom he speaks. The prophets for the most part have been lonely men who were sure in the depths of their being from whence came their message, for whom they spoke, and to whom the “Thus saith the Lord” was directed.

Edward L. R. Elson is Minister of The National Presbyterian Church in Washington, D. C. Among the members are President and Mrs. Eisenhower, several cabinet members, Supreme Court justices, and diplomats. He is author of several books; And Still He Speaks, will appear next Spring.

Percy Williams Bridgman has come out with a volume this year called The Way Things Are. Bridgman is a physicist, a Harvard Nobel laureate, who has produced such books as The Logic of Modern Physics, The Intelligent Individual and Society, and a collection of articles, Reflections of a Physicist. The review in The New York Times Book Review (Mar. 1, 1959) is by T. V. Smith, recently retired from the philosophy faculty of Syracuse University, who writes with great approval not only of Bridgman but of the thesis of Bridgman’s book. He calls Bridgman the “philosopher’s scientist of our generation.” He describes Bridgman as a man “who has outgrown physics by following the argument where it led him.” It is a nice thought—outgrowing physics, especially when suggested by a Syracuse philosopher commenting on a Harvard professor.

The first part of Bridgman’s book reviews the situation today in the field of physics. Bridgman uses the findings of physics to work over the fields of methodology and logic with particular interest in probability. He is, indeed, “the philosopher’s scientist” and says some devastating things to fellow scientists about their overconfidence both in their findings and in their conclusions. Physicists will find this book irritating but also cathartic in Aristotle’s sense.

In the second part of the book Bridgman moves from the field of physics to the field of psychology and in the latter part of the book he turns to sociology. I think his attempt is to move in unbroken line from physics to psychology to sociology with one discipline serving as foundation for the next. I question very strenuously whether he has the right so to do, to insist, for example, that psychology can be subjected to the methods of the physics lab and that sociology is simply the multiplication of many psyches to make a society. But even if he believes he can move from the physics lab to the psychology lab to the sociological lab, it is my opinion that in his book he does so very badly. The book’s value seems to be on three levels. On the first level, as nearly as I can judge—and I cannot judge as a physicist—Bridgman is very fateful in what he finds and what this means. In psychology, less careful.

When he finally moves to sociological implications he seems to have abandoned the care with which he treated the section on physics. To a friend I suggested that in the first part of the book (which is the major portion) Bridgman is getting material out of his own lab; in the second portion he is taking careful notes from some friends down the hall who are carrying on their own researches in psychology; in the third part he has gone down to the commons room and is “shooting the breeze” about “the way things are” in government, society, and politics.

What really bothers me about this book is the complete evasion of things theological. Philosophers are happy because a physicist has to pursue truth far beyond the field of physics. But why stop with philosophy and the contemplation of logic or probability? In both title and thesis, the idea of God ought to be an idea seriously met even if, later, for necessary reasons, discarded. But in dealing with physics Bridgman touches on God ever so lightly, in the section on psychology he gives God the back of his hand, and by the end of the book you have sensed disdain toward all things religious. He is very polite on these matters, but purposely devastating in the cynical touch here and there. He may be rightly critical regarding some expressions of religion, even as one could be easily critical of uncritical physics. But knowledge and wisdom have to do with making these very distinctions. If I am to judge physics from the writings of the Nobel laureate of Harvard, then I could suggest that he judge theology at least on the level of Temple and Oman. The undercurrent attitude is that a man who turns his attention to the things of God proves himself not quite bright. Books like this tell us very clearly the assumptions of the mind of our times which must be reached and made slave to the mind of Christ.

Some other religious implications are evident. “It is the nature of knowledge to be subject to uncertainty,” says Bridgman, and he suggests the converse of this, namely, that such knowledge as we do have is highly personal and subjective. Indeed, basic to his treatment of physics are probability and relativity. Probability keeps us from knowledge in any absolute sense, and relativity keeps all knowledge relative to the observer and time of his observation. Here, with a vengeance, we have subjectivity and existentialism, and the objectivity of method or the absolutes of our findings are gone. Coming out of the physics lab with researches independent of modern theological thought, Bridgman unwittingly adds to our theological problems. Add to this his general viewpoint on man reduced to the physics of psychology, a refined behaviorism. Make this thinking machine a part of every so-called objective study, and behold “The Way Things Are”—a universe in which the subject-observer is always a part of the objective analysis, and this observer in turn a complex mechanism behavioristically determined. Then Bridgman’s high hopes for man’s good sense in sociological relationships are naive. The religious concern with man, sin, redemption, the hope of fellowship—these become totally irrelevant.

We may decry philosophical theologians of our day as over against old-line biblical or systematic theologians. But the man represented by Bridgman’s book will be reached first by the Tillichs and the Niebuhrs. If apologetics is to reach a man where he is, and bring him where we think he ought to be, then apologetics in the philosophical deeps demands such men first. The Way Things Really Are either does or does not include the possibilities of Christianity—the possibility of the spirit, the supernatural revelation, moral responsibility, knowledge of God, final judgment and hope—and the current debate is taking place there.

Dispensational Theology

The Greatness of the Kingdom, by Alva J. McClain (Zondervan, 1959, 556 pp., $6.95), is reviewed by George Eldon Ladd, Professor of Biblical Theology, Fuller Theological Seminary, and author of The Gospel of the Kingdom, soon to be published by Eerdmans.

The importance of this book must be measured against the not insignificant movement within evangelical Christianity which insists that a dispensational theology alone is a truly biblical theology and that any deviation is a movement toward liberalism. Alva McClain is president of Grace Theological Seminary and has been teaching theology for 30 years. This volume is the first in a projected series of seven which will treat the entire field of theology. Here is the mature product of one of America’s leading dispensationalist theologians setting forth an exhaustive biblical exposition of the kingdom of God which is the most important doctrine for dispensationalism. The book raises the question whether dispensational theology, as represented by this volume, can lay valid claim as legitimate spokesman for evangelical Christianity.

We must first clarify the nature of dispensational theology. The heart of the system is not seven dispensations nor a pretribulation rapture of the Church. It is the notion that God has two peoples, Israel and the Church, and two programs—a theocratic program for Israel and a redemptive program for the Church. Israel is a national people with material blessings and an earthly destiny; the Church is a universal people with spiritual blessings and a heavenly destiny. The oft-used verse, “rightly dividing the Word of truth,” means to discern between the Scriptures which apply to Israel and those which apply to the Church. Judaism and Christianity: these are two biblical religions which must not be confounded or confused (L. S. Chafer, Dispensationalism, Dallas, 1951, p. 107).

This is the pattern of McClain’s theology. The mediatorial kingdom of Christ is a blessing for Israel, not for the Church. “We meet … one insuperable obstacle to the view which equates the Messianic kingdom of Christ with his work as a personal Saviour of men. As to the latter, there is no difference between Jew and Gentile; each human soul must be saved in the same way of grace, and there are no national priorities. But in the established Kingdom on earth the nation of Israel will have the supremacy” (p. 424). Christ did not come to bring a spiritual Kingdom. That which he offered Israel was the earthly Davidic Kingdom. When it was rejected, he disclosed his purpose to bring into existence a new thing—the Church. But the Kingdom was not given to the Church (as the natural exegesis of Matt. 21:43 suggests; see 1 Pet. 2:9); it was rather deferred until a new generation of Jews (“a nation bringing forth the fruits thereof”) accepts the Kingdom at the second advent of Christ. The idea of a present spiritual Kingdom is a “fiction” (p. 440); the Church is heir to salvation, not the Kingdom of God. The “mystery of the Kingdom” (Mark 4:11) is the existence of an interregnum between the arrival of the King and the establishment of the Kingdom (p. 325). The Pharisees, by their obstinate rejection of the King, shut both themselves and their contemporaries out of the Kingdom (Matt. 23:13) by causing its delay (p. 358).

McClain attempts to exegete all references to the Kingdom in Acts and the Epistles in terms of the future earthly Jewish Kingdom. In Acts 3, the Kingdom was officially reoffered to Israel. Throughout Acts, the Kingdom is proclaimed as “an impending possibility, contingent upon the attitude of Israel toward the King” (p. 423). Such apparently clear passages as Colossians 1:13 which says that the saved have already been brought into the kingdom of Christ cannot be taken at face value but must be interpreted “judicially.” Believers are now de jure in the Kingdom; the reality awaits the establishment of the earthly Kingdom (p. 439 f.).

McClain achieves this structure not from an inductive exegesis of the New Testament but from the Old Testament. The prophets picture an earthly Kingdom with Israel as the favored nation under a Davidic King. This Old Testament concept McClain takes as the basic idea of the Kingdom, and the New Testament data are interpreted in light of the Old Testament pattern.

This brings us to the fundamental dispensational hermeneutic in contrast with that of classical theology. Classical theology recognizes progressive revelation and insists that the final meaning of the Old Testament is to be discovered as it is reinterpreted by the New Testament. McClain does indeed give lip service to this hermeneutic (p. 261) but he does not practice it. The natural exegesis of Colossians 1:13 places Christians in the present spiritual kingdom of Christ; but McClain’s hermeneutic will not tolerate this exegesis because the Kingdom, by definition (derived from the Old Testament) is an earthly kingdom with Israel at its center, and such a kingdom must await the return of Christ. Therefore Colossians 1:13 must have reference to this future Kingdom.

This hermeneutic leading to the definition of the Kingdom as the earthly Davidic Kingdom raises two problems which McClain has failed to solve. The first is the relation of the Church to Israel and to the Davidic Kingdom. He admits that some kind of relationship exists. The Church is already experiencing the spiritual blessings of this future Kingdom—forgiveness, justification, regeneration, the gift of the Holy Spirit (p. 440), and the Church will be the spiritual nucleus of the future Kingdom (pp. 423, 429). McClain fails to explain by what logic the Church can experience the blessings of the Kingdom when the Kingdom itself is future. If the kingdom of God, as Paul says, is righteousness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit (Rom. 14:17), and if such blessings are the present fruit of the Spirit (Gal. 5:22–23), then in some sense of the word the Kingdom itself must be present. The exegesis by which McClain tries to relegate such verses as Romans 14:17 (p. 434) and Col. 1:13 (p. 439 f.) to the future is unnatural and artificial; and he fails to discuss Luke 16:16 altogether. Furthermore, McClain fails to establish an intelligible relation between the Church and Israel in the future Kingdom. Israel will be the favored nation and will reign over the Gentiles (p. 149 ff.). The Church is to be the spiritual nucleus in the Kingdom (p. 429) and will occupy the place of honor (p. 330). The Church will not only be the spiritual nucleus in the Kingdom; but from its residence in heaven it will rule with Christ over the earth (pp. 496–499) much as a business man commutes to the city from his home in the suburbs (p. 500). How can the Church be both the “spiritual nucleus” of the Kingdom and yet rule from heaven over the earth? What is to be the relationship between Israel and the Church, both of whom are to reign over the earth during the Millennium? We look in vain for solutions to these problems.

An even more serious problem is that of the relation of the death of Christ to the Mediatorial Kingdom. Christ did not speak of his death until his offer of the Kingdom to Israel had been firmly rejected, and he disclosed his purpose to bring the Church into existence by his death. McClain places great stress on the fact that Jesus at first proclaimed the gospel of the Kingdom with no word about his death and resurrection (p. 332). The conclusion is unavoidable: in McClain’s system, the Cross is relevant to the Church but not to the Kingdom. The proclamation of the gospel of the Kingdom needed no work of the Cross. McClain dismisses the question of what would have happened if the Jews had received their Messiah as speculative and deserving no final answer. “The objector might well be reminded, however, that there was once in Old Testament history a Theocratic Kingdom on earth before Messiah died, and therefore the possibility [of a Kingdom without a cross] need not he rejected on a priori grounds” (p. 333, n. 21).

This theological confusion stems from a basic failure to understand the nature of Christ’s mediatorial ministry; and this in turn derives from an unwillingness to accept the New Testament definition of the kingdom of God and to reinterpret the Old Testament in light of the New Testament definition. McClain does indeed recognize verbally the New Testament concept of the Kingdom. “When the last enemy of God has been put down by our Lord, acting as Mediatorial King, the purpose of His Mediatorial Kingdom will have been fulfilled. As the Apostle Paul wrote, ‘He must reign, till he hath put all enemies under his feet’ (1 Cor. 15:25)” (p. 512). Just so! And Paul adds, “The last enemy that shall be destroyed (katargeo) is death” (1 Cor. 15:26). The kingdom of God is the reign of God in Christ to “destroy” or “put down” his enemies, the last of which is death. When death, Satan, sin, and all the evil which goes with them have been subdued, God’s kingdom will come. Indeed, the coming of the Kingdom means their destruction. The Kingdom is indeed future, awaiting the return of Christ.

But Scripture is clear that the death and resurrection of Christ have already begun the “destruction” of these enemies. By his death, Christ has “destroyed” (katargeo) him that has the power of death, that is, the devil (Heb. 2:14). Our Saviour, by his appearing, has “abolished” (katargeo) death and brought life and immortality to light through the Gospel (2 Tim. 1:10). Furthermore, the believer shares spiritually Christ’s death “that the body of sin might be destroyed” (Rom. 6:6) (katargeo). The “destruction” of Christ’s enemies is not a single act but two acts. By death and resurrection, Christ has won an initial victory over his enemies; by his Second Coming, he will finish the conquest of evil. Both are redemptive acts of Christ’s mediatorial reign. Therefore the kingdom of God, the redemptive rule of God, is both future and present. It has manifested itself in history, and it will manifest itself again at the end of history. We enjoy its blessings, and yet we look forward to its blessings. Fulfillment and consummation: these are the two stages in the accomplishment of God’s Kingdom.

McClain’s system leads him to further difficulties. He recognizes that Christ is now enthroned at God’s right hand; but “this was not the throne of David transferred somehow from earth to heaven, as some have mistakenly supposed, but God the Father’s own Throne in the Universal Kingdom” (p. 34). But if, as McClain admits, the Mediatorial Kingdom means the subduing of such enemies as death, then the present session of Christ at God’s right hand by which he has been exalted over the powers of evil is at the heart of his mediatorial work. McClain fails to understand that the mediatorial work of Christ is concerned not only with the subduing of rebellion and evil on earth (p. 35) but with the subduing of rebellion and evil in the spiritual realm (Luke 10:18; John 12:31; 16:11; Eph. 1:20–22; Col. 1:15). Evil has a cosmic dimension of which McClain is not aware.

We must conclude that dispensationalism can be no substitute for classic theology because its false hermeneutic prohibits it from recognizing the true character of the kingdom of God as set forth in the New Testament. Dispensationalism is an Old Testament theology which is unable to fit New Testament theology into its system.

A final observation reflects unfavorably upon our author’s work. McClain, like most dispensationalists, has lost contact with the world of theological thought. Dispensationalism has never thrived upon dialogue with other theological points of view; it flourishes only in the hothouse of its own exclusive system. Most of the literature, exegetical and theological, cited to give support to his interpretation, is about two generations old. Alford, Lange, H. A. W. Meyer, Ellicott, and Godet are his chief New Testament authorities. Almost no modern literature on the kingdom of God is used. Certainly a theology designed to meet the needs of the twentieth century should be relevant to the issues of the hour.

GEORGE ELDON LADD

Battle Against Temptation

Between God and Satan, by Helmut Thielicke, translated by C. C. Barber (Eerdmans, 1958, 77 pp., $2), is reviewed by the Rev. Cecil V. Crabb, Pastor of Rock Island (Tenn.) Presbyterian Church.

This little volume by the professor of systematic theology at the University of Hamburg is a very timely, profound discussion of the temptation of Christ. The author does not give us a mere devotional, homiletical treatment of this great theme but a profound, theological consideration of its meaning to Jesus and to the believer. He discusses each temptation clearly and in many ways in an original manner. In the first temptation he deals with the reality of hunger, the appeal of Satan to basic instinct. As the author well points out, the adversary does not assail Christ with mere speculative doubts in “the shadow art of apologetics” but challenges him in the “realm of concrete things.” In the second temptation the author deals with the “alluring miracle of display.” The devil takes his stand upon the fact of God, but only upon his own terms; and yet he presents a deity of sheer power and not of holy, personal will. In the third the author discusses Satan’s offer of universal dominion upon his own terms in contrast with Jesus’ kingdom of the world. Upon the background of “the shining landscape,” with “the globe in the devil’s hand,” the temptation is very alluring, since one passion of the Christ is to win the world to the Father.

In these crucial times demonic power often seems manifested in a godless technology, ruthless dictatorships, dangerous ideologies, and religious myths of various kinds. Yet, after all, the real struggle is not here but goes back to that great historic mount of temptation where Christ defeated Satan decisively.

This bood will help the reader interpret world conflicts and strengthen him to meet his temptations.

CECIL V. CRABB

Anthropology And Fiction

Man in Modern Fiction, by Edmund Fuller (Random House, 1958, 165 pp., $3.50), is reviewed by Henry W. Coray, author of Son of Tears.

Here is a kind of critique of pure literary reasoning long overdue. People concerned with the decline and fall of great writing will stand up and cheer. Mr. Fuller believes that modern fiction has made a sharp break with the great literary tradition, a break that finds its roots deep in anthropology as well as in theism. What has been the result? We have lost more than we have gained.

Basically, there are three images of man: the concept of man as innately good, God-emergent, progressing toward perfection; man as lost, desperately evil but still redeemable; man as soulless, morally unresponsible, sub-human, a stark animal product of the atheistic segment of the existentialist movement. It is against the exponents of this third doctrine that Fuller releases his angriest blast. He puts the James Joyce, Norman Mailer, James Jones, Philip Wylie, and Jack Kerouac school of writers on the table, operates with a scalpel honed to razor-edge sharpness, and lets you watch the patients soak in their own malignant juices.

Edmund Fuller is master of the invective. But he does make his point; he turns on light as well as heat. There is, he argues, a terrifying split in the human family. It involves politics, ideas, art, and science. Man is divided against man. But basically it is a religious division, “for it simply is not possible to express a doctrine about the nature of man without a religious implication” (p. 6).

A serious flaw in the book is the misrepresentation of Calvin’s view of sin. One could wish that before Mr. Fuller attacked the Reformer, he had revisited the Institutes.

HENRY W. CORAY

Editor’S Note

Beginning with this October 12, 1959, issue of CHRISTIANITY TODAY, Volume IV will carry consecutive cumulative page numbering, in addition to individual issue page numbering. This new arrangement should facilitate more satisfactory use of the index for library reference and research and for general purposes.

For All?

For Whom Did Christ Die? by R. B. Kuiper (Eerdmans, 1959, 104 pp., $2), is reviewed by G. Aiken Taylor, Minister of First Presbyterian Church, Alexandria, Louisiana.

This is a serious theological treatise on the divine design of the Atonement. The author’s preoccupation, in traditional and typical Dutch Calvinistic fashion, is with the question: Did Christ die for all or for some?

Existing viewpoints generally fall within three broad categories, according to the author. Unrestricted Universalism, traceable in history as far back as Origen, preaches the ultimate salvation of all men. Its modern exponents include not only professed Universalists but an increasing number of representatives of all major denominations, such as Nels Ferré, C. H. Dodd, J. A. T. Robinson, William P. Paterson and others.

Arminian Universalism or “inconsistent” Universalism is widespread among so-called evangelicals and even fundamentalists. This view holds that the Atonement was universal in its design, but limited in its accomplishment. The Trinity are said to have purposed the salvation of all, yet somehow that purpose is frustrated by men, for plainly not all are saved. Dr. Kuiper adds Karl Barth to the company already mentioned, of “inconsistent” universalists. His view of election makes him “clearly innocent of consistency at this point.”

Particularism, identified with historic Calvinism, is the third alternative, of course. The author makes a strong case for the Reformed doctrine of limited Atonement as the Scriptural teaching. He argues that practical experience and the need for consistency as well as the overwhelming weight of all the scriptural data combine to support the conclusion that Christ died only for those who are numbered among the elect.

G. AIKEN TAYLOR

Preaching The Word

Favorite Sermons of John A. Broadus, edited by Vernon Latrelle Stanfield (Harper, 1959, 147 pp., $2.75), is reviewed by H. C. Brown, Jr., Professor of Preaching, Southwestern Theological Seminary.

The Master, the minister, the message, the members of the congregation, and the mechanics of homiletics (preparation and delivery) are the normative elements in the preaching situation. While it is not desirable or perhaps even possible to arrange these in a complete order of relative importance, one should easily recognize that the minister, next to the Lord, is the most important factor in the experience of preaching.

John Albert Broadus, according to Dr. V. L. Stanfield, ably filled the role of being a qualified man for the high calling of preaching. Stanfield closes his introduction on the life, devotion, character and preaching of John A. Broadus with a statement and quotation reflecting his estimate of the personality and preaching of Broadus: “It was … the total impact of man and message that made John A. Broadus such a tremendously popular preacher to his own generation. In Broadus, his audience sensed reality. One listener summarized and made articulate what many felt about Broadus’ preaching. ‘It was not so much what he said. It did seem that almost anyone might have said what he was saying. But it was the man behind the message. He spoke with the authority of one who tested and knew the truth.’ ”

Furthermore, Stanfield in his introduction lists four other factors responsible for Broadus’ greatness as a preacher: (1) his devotion to God’s message, (2) the simplicity of his preaching, (3) his concern for spiritual decision when he preached, (4) and his effective method of preparation and delivery of sermons.

The 24 sermons in this book, complete messages and outlines, ably demonstrate that John A. Broadus not only could write about and teach homiletics, but that he could also prepare appealing sermons. These messages are lucid, attractive, forceful, and relevant. They are worthy to be studied from the standpoint of practical homiletics, as well as for devotional and spiritual values.

H. C. BROWN, JR.

Minutes after his silvery TU-114 appeared on the blue Maryland horizon, Khrushchev—one of the most celebrated international visitors since the Queen of Sheba—was reflecting his high priority for economics.

“I will be glad to talk with statesmen, representatives of the business world, intellectuals, workers and farmers, and to become familiar with the life of the industrious and enterprising American people,” said Khrushchev in response to President Eisenhower’s initial welcome at Andrews Air Force Base.

“It is true that you are richer than we are at present,” the Red leader told a state dinner in the White House the same evening. “But then tomorrow we will be as rich as you are, and the day after tomorrow we will be even richer.”

The next 12 days bore out clearly what his first utterances hinted at: that Khrushchev was toeing the Marxist line which merges the dialectic with economic determinism as the comprehensive key to reality.

Preoccupation with economics characterized Khrushchev’s entire tour of the United States. Absorption in material things shaped an itinerary, moreover, which raises the question whether he really saw a true cross-section of America.

Khrushchev viewed little during his stay that was distinctively Christian or that would underscore America’s great spiritual heritage. This turn of events could be attributed largely to Khrushchev himself. U. S. State Department spokesmen said the course of the tour depended to a great extent upon decisions of the little man whose country had just placed its coat of arms upon the moon.

It was left to Eisenhower to salvage something for the cause of Christian witness, and many clergymen feel his deeds on the final day of Khrushchev’s stay represented the most devout gesture during his entire term of office. Eisenhower not only broke into top-level talks with Khrushchev to attend a Sunday morning worship service, but invited the Red leader to accompany him. Khrushchev declined, explaining that an acceptance would shock the Russian people. But the impact of the President’s spiritual priorities was firmly registered.

“I am personally an atheist,” Khrushchev had said earlier in Los Angeles. Yet nobody could deny his religion-like devotion to Red materialism. His natural religious inclinations seem diverted wholly to the thesis that man’s basic need is economic, and it was precisely this concern which dominated his interest in America.

Business leaders made up the large bulk of his private dinner guests throughout the trip. In New York it was the Economic Club which got to sponsor a banquet for him. In Washington it was the Journal of Commerce.

Economic interests vitalized many of Khrushchev’s U. S. speeches, too. In his oft-repeated mirnoe soshuschestvovanie—peaceful coexistence—the trade angle was prominent. Even when he spoke of disarmament, the Soviet chief revealed that he was thinking of its significance in channeling Soviet defense funds to consumer goods. He remarked publicly in San Jose, California, that the most amiable contacts of his U. S. tour were with business leaders.

The economic overtones were evident despite Khrushchev’s insistence that he had not come here to beg. “Trade is like a barometer,” he said in New York. “It shows the direction of the development of policy.”

One of the more surprising aspects of Khrushchev’s approach was his use of references to deity. He used far more Christian expressions than he heard from Americans. The fact that this practice contradicted his professed atheism illustrates his willingness to brush aside logic for convenience.

Clergy reaction to Khrushchev’s pious pronouncements dismissed them as (1) a tactic to establish common ground, and (2) Russian expressions which no longer imply belief in their truthfulness.

Perhaps the most important aspect of the visit—widely ignored—was its effect upon the masses who live under Communist domination against their will. Were they losing hope? Reliable reports of reaction were scarce.

Some observers feel that discontent in Iron Curtain countries is diminishing in view of Communist technological improvements. There is speculation that space conquests have stirred national pride to the extent that the government has picked up more respect from the populace.

There were sound arguments, however, for the opposite view. In testimony before the House Committee on Un-American Activities, the Khrushchev visit was characterized as a “terrific victory for communism.”

“It amounts to a body blow to the morale of resistance in the Communist world,” said Eugene Lyons, a senior editor of the Reader’s Digest and former correspondent to Russia who has written a biography of Khrushchev. “It’s a betrayal of the hopes of the enemies of communism within that world, and their numbers can be counted by the hundred million.”

Whatever the merits of his visit, many U. S. Christians seized the opportunity to promote special prayers for Khrushchev. And who can say, they will ask, that the Holy Spirit did not deal with his heart?

Some quarters nonetheless lamented the fact that, in the framework of his own preferences, the influences of American Judeo-Christian tradition were not presented in a more favorable light.

Most distressing was the episode at 20th Century Fox studios, where the Khrushchev party was exposed to three “Can-Can” scenes, featuring a wild dance with suggestive skirt-flipping climaxed when a male runs off with a leading lady’s bloomers.

The Russians were detained at the studios beyond time allotted while movie producers, eager for expanded markets, were making their impression. The bid backfired.

“We don’t want our people to see that kind of trash,” Khrushchev was reported to have remarked later. He publicly referred to the dance as “immoral” and called it a form of pornography. The development had played into his hands and Khrushchev had come out as the apparent champion of a high morality.

In a private audience with seven top labor leaders the following evening in San Francisco, Khrushchev was said to have mimicked the dancers by stooping over and flipping his coat tails.

The Press Corps

David E. Kucharsky, News Editor of CHRISTIANITY TODAY, was the only representative of the religious press to accompany Khrushchev on his U. S. tour.

To cover this significant visit for CHRISTIANITY TODAY readers, Kucharsky joined a press corps of some 250 in traveling with Khrushchev. The correspondents, officially accredited by the U. S. State Department, came from many parts of the world. Among them were 21 newsmen from Communist lands.

Protestant Panorama

• Evangelical Literature Overseas (sponsors of the second annual World Literature Sunday, October 11) is recruiting a corps of “Big Brothers”—Christian printers willing to lend technical assistance in missionary publication work.

• President Eisenhower is reported to be preparing a Thanksgiving Day proclamation based on Psalm 67.

• Alojzije Cardinal Stepinac will be permitted to resume his duties as Primate of the Roman Catholic church in Yugoslavia after completion of his prison term, according to one of the nation’s Communist leaders. The cardinal’s term, imposed for alleged wartime collaboration with German and Italian occupying forces, expires in about two years.

• A special Federal court ruled last month that Pennsylvania’s law requiring Bible reading and recitation of the Lord’s prayer in public schools is unconstitutional. An appeal is pending to the U. S. Supreme Court.

• The National Association of Evangelicals’ theme for its 1959 “NAE Week”—October 18–25—is “Standing for the Changeless Word in a Changing World.”

• Americans this year are spending almost twice as much on cigarettes as they contribute to their churches, according to a U. S. Department of Agriculture report.

• The Unitarian Universalist Church of the Reconciliation was dropped from the Council of Churches of Utica and Oneida County (New York) last month because the congregation would not acknowledge “Jesus Christ as divine Lord and Savior.”

• Simultaneous dinners in Boston, Chicago, and San Francisco launched a $7,500,000 Christian Higher Education Fund campaign last month for the General Council of the Congregational Christian Churches.

• One hundred and fifty-three representatives of major Protestant radio and literature ministries in 23 Latin American countries wound up a six-day “Congress on Evangelical Communications” in Cali, Colombia, last month by forming a new radio-TV organization to be known as DIA (Difusiones Inter-Americanas).

• First portions of a revised version of Martin Luther’s translation of the Old Testament will soon be submitted for approval to member churches of the Evangelical Church in Germany.

• A new law in Manitoba empowers the province to “step in quickly” to provide medical care for children, even if parents protest on religious grounds.

• The Anglican Synod of Sydney plans to probe the “increasing emphasis on sex in Australia.”

• The Church of England has only 9,691,000 confirmed members 13 years and over out of a total of 26,771,000 persons who have been baptized in the church, according to a Religious News Service report based on a new book of Anglican statistics.

• The Russian Orthodox Church Outside of Russia opened a high school in New York last month, its first secondary institution in America.

• International Child Evangelism Fellowship, Inc., is moving its general headquarters from Pacific Palisades, California, to Grand Rapids, Michigan.

• The United Presbyterian Board of Christian Education came out with a new magazine this month. The publication, called Hi Way, is designed for senior high youth.

• The Baptist Joint Committee on Public Affairs, with offices in Washington, is asking its seven supporting national conventions to expand its program and double its annual budget.

• Juvenile delinquency set a grim new record in 1958, according to the FBI. Arrest statistics collected from police departments in 1,558 cities with a population of more than 2,500 showed 480,615 arrests involving persons under 21 years of age.

The labor consultation itself deteriorated into what many correspondents interpreted as the worst row of the trip. Factions within the AFL-CIO appeared to be vying for the distinction of which was the more strongly anti-Communist. One group boycotted the meeting with Khrushchev while the other baited him with questions. Afterward, there was dissension even in the group that met with him over what actually was said.

Khrushchev spent Sunday, September 20, on a train travelling up the California coast and here again he failed to see the real America where some 63 per cent of the population belongs to a church. Morning church hours found hundreds of persons, most wearing leisure togs, lining the tracks for a glimpse of the Red leader. The image of families dressed in Sunday best, Bibles under arm, was conspicuously absent.

It was in San Francisco that the Premier attributed a portion of Communist philosophy to the teachings of Christ. His audience took the remark at face value and applauded him enthusiastically.

The Last Question

Of all questions publicly addressed to Khrushchev during his U. S. visit, the very last was the only one which evoked anything even approaching a serious discussion of religion under communism. It was asked by Edward P. Morgan of the American Broadcasting Company at the end of a news conference held in Washington just a few hours before Khrushchev left to return to Moscow.

MORGAN: “Those of us who went to the U.S.S.R. with Vice President Nixon were surprised at the number of young people in church. If there is an increasing interest in religion, what will be your attitude towards churches?”

KHRUSHCHEV: “Well, first of all I believe the question itself confirms the fact that we do have a full freedom of conscience and religion in our country as we have been saying all along.

“Furthermore, I would like to say that this is partly explained, the large number of young people in churches, perhaps is partly explained by the feeling of curiosity. Young people are curious. I was telling the President the other day that immediately after the war when our Marshal Tolbukhi was returning from Bulgaria, I invited him to my home in Kiev. My grandchildren were very curious to see how a real marshal looked like. They hid and looked from around the corners to see what he was like, what a live marshal was like.

“Many of our young people hear about religion, about God, about saints, about church ceremonies, and they have a curiosity about this. Even if each one of them goes to church only once, they are so numerous that the doors of our churches would never close.

“This feeling of curiosity is very important. For instance, I am sure that many people in this country ran out to see me because they wanted to see a living Communist from the Soviet Union. It is the same way in our country. If a capitalist comes to our country, our people, our young people, want to take a look, to see if he has a tail as an attribute to his person.

“So there is nothing surprising about these things.”

Though gesturing dramatically, Khrushchev replied evasively. He cited what presumably he believes is the reason for the religious interest of Russian young people, but he failed to face up to the heart of the question, which inquired of K’s attitude toward such interest.

Khrushchev, while in San Francisco, visited the Top of the Mark, “probably the world’s most famous bar,” but he made no attempt to view a church there or elsewhere or to meet any of the nation’s religious leaders. Not until he got to Pittsburgh did he hear an invocation (by Dr. Howard C. Scharfe, prominent Presbyterian minister).

Evangelical observers, assessing some of the adverse effects of the Khrushchev visit, expressed the hope that Eisenhower will seek a more objective and realistic view of the citadel of communism when he visits the Soviet Union next spring. Many hope he will press the distinction between religious freedom and religious tolerance. They would like him to take a good look, not only at the Moscow showcase, but at the Siberia so notorious for banishments.

Clergy reaction to Khrushchev’s U. N. disarmament proposal was sparse, with most realizing that the plan contained nothing new, that it was merely the restatement of an ideal with no accompanying explanation as to how it could be achieved. There was some speculation that the four-year time element might have been geared for a climax to take place during the 1964 U. S. election campaign with the Red hope that, for the sake of an issue, some politicians might be willing to pick up the Soviet line.

It was significant that Khrushchev never sought to spell out particulars of Communist philosophy. There is reason to believe that he may have attributed to Americans a lack of conviction about democracy and the Judeo-Christian tradition and felt he could well afford to evade coming to grips with the basic conflicts they have with communism. He failed to demonstrate how the free world could depend upon an agreement with powers which subordinate international commitments to the interests of their own state. There was nothing to indicate that he has changed his mind since last March, when he was reported to have told Communists at a Leipzig fair:

“You should not take too seriously the treaties made with the imperialists. Lenin, too, signed a peace treaty after World War I that remained valid only so long as it proved necessary.”

Baptist Aide

Among U. S. Air Force personnel who helped Soviet airmen fly Khrushchev’s giant four-engine turboprop to Washington and back to Moscow was Captain Harold Renegar, 35, a veteran pilot who is an active member of the Temple Hills Baptist Church in Washington, D. C.

Renegar, who speaks Russian, was converted at the age of nine in the Evans Avenue Baptist Church in Fort Worth, Texas, under the ministry of Dr. Ramsay Pollard, now president of the Southern Baptist Convention.

Renegar studied at Baylor University and while there traveled with a male quartet which sang at special church programs and conventions.

Swords into Plowshares

They shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning-hooks: nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more.

The passage, found in Isaiah 2 and in Micah 4, is inscribed on a stone wall facing the U. N. building in New York, Khrushchev saw a figurative fulfillment of the prophecy when he visited the John Deere factory near Des Moines, Iowa:

The plant was built early in World War II for manufacture of machine-gun bullets. Today it produces farm implements.

What is the most vital issue facing contemporary Christianity?

Twenty-five leading scholars responded to this query posed byCHRISTIANITY TODAY.

Some noted scholars, among them ProfessorREINHOLD NIEBUHRof Union Theological Seminary, New York, and ProfessorPAUL TILLICHof Harvard Divinity School, confessed their inability to narrow the issues to a single primary concern.

“I don’t know how to choose one vital issue among the many issues that face the Christian Church,” said Niebuhr.

Tillich said: “I feel it is impossible to reduce to one most vital issue the problems facing contemporary Christianity.”

Karl Barth, professor, University of Basel: “How do you explain the fact that the large Christian bodies cannot pronounce a definite yes or no on the matter of atom warfare? What significance has this fact: (a) in regard to the Church’s own message; (b) in regard to the world around her (the Church)?”

G. C. BERKOUWER, professor, Free University of Amsterdam, Netherlands: “I see the ‘most vital issue’ herein: That amid all kinds of evidences of secularization and antagonism toward the Christian faith, we nevertheless discover once again in the Church a new sense of the importance of the Gospel and a realization that God’s Word is manifesting itself with power and is calling for renewed attention (2 Timothy 2:9, ‘the word of God is not bound’). That gives us courage for the future, when men through the overpowering influence of the Gospel meet each other in new perspective, full of comfort and mission in this disturbed world. In one word—new attention to the Bible.”

ANDREW W. BLACKWOOD, professor emeritus, Princeton Theological Seminary: “How to put God in the forefront of Christianity today, and then keep him foremost. Call the current tendency secularism, externalism, humanism, or what not; really it is pride and selfishness. In hymns and prayers, sermons and religious books, we exalt ‘Man’—ourselves—rather than the Triune God. We need a new Christ-centered Reformation.”

F. F. BRUCE, professor, Manchester University: “Most vital is the urgent necessity for all who profess and call themselves Christians, in West and East alike, to be real Christians, wholeheartedly committed to the cause of Christ in the world and ready to embrace the conditions which he laid down for those who wished to be his disciples.”

EMILE CAILLIET, professor, Princeton Theological Seminary: “The most vital issue is that we have lost a sense of cosmic purpose secured over the ages, thanks mostly to the Gospel. We are accordingly overwhelmed by a mood of futility to the point of reverting to the very forms of doom which characterized the pagan past.”

EDWARD JOHN CARNELL, professor, Fuller Theological Seminary: “The most vital issue is the communion of the saints. Jesus prayed that his disciples would be so knit by cords of love, that when the world saw the Church it would see the very unity of God. Dissension is an offense against Christ and the Gospel.”

GORDON H. CLARK, professor, Butler University: “The source and cause of all other issues facing contemporary Christianity is the neglect and repudiation of the Scriptures. If there is no intelligible, written revelation, then all opinions are superstitions. On the other hand, if God has given us information and commands, we should accept and obey without addition or subtraction.”

FRANK E. GAEBELEIN, headmaster, The Stony Brook School: “The most vital need is for a deeper and fuller realization of the unchanging relevance of Jesus Christ, who is ‘the same yesterday, and today, and forever.’ No scientific advance or political upheaval can alter the fact that God’s sovereign will is being done in Christ. Throughout the world today many have lost their sense of purpose. Only a Christianity rooted and grounded in the eternal adequacy of the living Christ is sufficient to bring men to a recovery of purpose.”

JOHN H. GERSTNER, professor, Pittsburgh-Xenia Theological Seminary: “The most vital question facing Christianity is Christianity—that is, the definition of Christianity. There is so great difference in this area that it is inconceivable that all who use the name are speaking about the same thing. Wisdom is (eternal) bliss; ’tis (eternal) folly to be ignorant.”

CARL F. H. HENRY, Editor, CHRISTIANITY TODAY: “Rightly to evaluate the modern man’s rebellion against God (without underestimating communism and yet without ignoring the secularism of the West), and to challenge this revolt both authentically and courageously where God has spoken, and with his weapons, rather than by human schemes and skills—that is the really Big Task.”

W. BOYD HUNT, professor, Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary: “The tragic proportion of inactive church members, the maladjustment of the races in Christian societies, and communism’s seeming superiority to Christianity in devotion to some virtues, show that ultimately the most vital issue facing contemporary Christianity is whether or not it can recognize its idolatrous worship of man-made orthodoxies and ideals and submit afresh to the revolutionizing lordship of Jesus Christ.”

W. HARRY JELLEMA, professor, Calvin College: “Not any one of the various issues as such is nearly so vital as the subtle, pervasive, self-righteous secularism, which patterns the modern mind—the mind with which we (also we Christians) frame the issues and our solutions, the mind with which we would think and secularize even our Christianity.”

HAROLD B. KUHN, professor, Asbury Theological Seminary: “A world divided and deeply confused challenges contemporary Christianity to meet a two-fold issue: she must keep her inner witness clear; and—refusing to speak in areas in which she lacks competence—she must raise her voice concerning external issues in such a manner as to keep abiding moral principles in the sharp foreground.”

LEON MORRIS, vice principal of Ridley College: “The Church’s vital problem is that of communication. The Gospel is not seriously weighed: it is simply ignored by active opponents, by the indifferent, and by nominal adherents alike. The Church’s problem is how to stab men awake to their plight as sinners and to their need of the Saviour.”

J. THEODORE MUELLER, professor, Concordia Seminary: “To me the most vital issue faces us in the words: ‘O earth, earth, earth, hear the word of the Lord’ (Jer. 22:29). At the bottom of Judah’s spiritual, social and political troubles lay the people’s contempt for the divine Word. Similarly the troubles of our own time stem in the main from neglect of the divine Word in the home, the state, and the Church. Unless the divine message of sin and grace, repentance and faith will be heard we shall escape God’s just punishment no less than Judah escaped it. The path that leads to the world’s welfare is the path that leads to God in Christ Jesus. The Church today dare not become like that of Laodicea.”

BERNARD RAMM, professor, California Baptist Theological Seminary: “The most important issue facing Christendom is the strength of those forces which divide evangelical Christians, and the weakness of those forces which make for real evangelical union. Doctrinaire positions and ‘party line’ theology must undergo serious criticism from the light of Scripture and with the Holy Spirit’s help.

W. STANFORD REID, professor, McGill University: “The most vital issue facing Christianity? I think that it is the necessity of being relevant to the world of the mid-twentieth century. There is a great danger that our Christianity may be expressed in the language and thought forms of the nineteenth or even an earlier century. But a greater danger still is that we do not relate it to the contemporary problems of both the individual and society as a whole. If we do not speak with relevance, we speak in a vacuum.”

WILLIAM C. ROBINSON, professor, Columbia Theological Seminary: “The most vital need facing contemporary Christianity is the proclamation of God in his objective reality. This will issue in the recognition of God as the Creator with all authority in heaven and on earth. It will mean the acceptance of the Ten Words as his commandments which are objectively over man and may not be twisted to fit our subjective fancies. It will bring a new sense of sin and guilt and create a hunger for righteousness which only the Gospel can fill. It will focus our trust not on our response, decision or psychological faith, but on what God has graciously done for us in Christ, that is, in his death for our sins and in his resurrection for our justification.”

HERMAN SASSE, professor, United Evangelical Lutheran Church seminary (Australia): “The most disturbing issue is the general decline of religion in modern mankind. Political doctrines and emotions have become the substitute for religion, and religions the tool of politics. As this applies also to Christianity as a religion, our main concern must be to preserve that which does not belong to the sphere of human religion and by which the Church of Christ lives: the objective Word of God and the sacraments instituted by Christ.

JAMES S. STEWART, professor, University of Edinburgh: “The most vital issue facing contemporary Christianity is evangelism. And that in two dimensions. (1) Within the Church. Men and women have to be helped to believe their own faith and to realize their riches in Christ. (2) Outside the Church. Here evangelism means a fellowship of reconciled and forgiven sinners feeling a personal responsibility and concern to make real by word and deed to all men the reconciliation and forgiveness of God.”

MERRILL C. TENNEY, dean, Graduate School, Wheaton College: “Is Christianity a supernatural revelation abroad or merely a popular feeling? Is it a transforming experience, or is it only a subject of theological debate? We need a fresh manifestation of the Holy Spirit to renew the true unity, logic, and dynamic of Christian faith.”

CORNELIUS VAN TIL, professor, Westminster Theological Seminary; “The most vital issue facing contemporary Christianity is that of a critique of historical reason. The most pressing question is as to whether and where objectivity may be found in history. The Church must preach Christ and the resurrection. Can it do so unless Christ speaks to us directly in Scripture?”

GUSTAVE WEIGEL, Jesuit theologian and author, Woodstock College: “The pressing task of contemporary Christianity is to communicate the authentically genuine message of Christ and the Church in forms proper to the cultures of our era. The substance of the message is fixed but the modes of expressing it must be those spontaneous to the minds and hearts of our place and day. Older modalities encased in polemics deriving from dead cultural situations must be buried with the situations which caused them.”

Acknowledgements: The pictures of Professors Barth, Niebuhr, Stewart, and Tillich are Religious News Service Photos.

‘Courtesy Call’

Archbishop Egidio Vagnozzi, newly-appointed Vatican “Apostolic Delegate” to the United States, paid a “courtesy call” on President Eisenhower at the White House last month. Presidential assistant Rocco Siciliano accompanied Archbishop Vagnozzi to the 25-minute conference in Eisenhower’s office.

People: Words And Events

Deaths: The Rev. Arnold H. Grumm, 65, honorary vice president of the Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, in St. Louis … Dr. T. W. Hazlewood, minister of St. Paul’s-Avenue Road United Church in Toronto and News Correspondent for CHRISTIANITY TODAY … Dr. Charles G. Shatzer, 81, dean emeritus of Wittenberg University and former executive secretary of the Lutheran Laymen Movement, in Springfield, Ohio … D. Leigh Colvin, 79, noted prohibition leader … Dr. Charles Fama, physician who for more than 30 years was a lay preacher at the Church of the Gospel, a mission to Italian Roman Catholics associated with the Bedford Park Presbyterian Church in Brooklyn, New York.

Elections: As general secretary of the Commission on Ecumenical Mission and Relations of the United Presbyterian Church in the U. S. A., the Rev. John Coventry Smith … as president of the Seventh-day Baptist General Conference, the Rev. Victor Skaggs.

Appointments: As dean of the school of theology at New Orleans Baptist Theological Seminary, Dr. J. Hardee Kennedy; as dean of the school of religious education, Dr. John M. Price, Jr.; as dean of the school of sacred music, Dr. W. Plunkett Martin; as professor of church history, Dr. William A. Mueller … as president of Bethany Bible College, the Rev. C. C. Burnett … as guest professor of religion at Bethany College, Dr. Donald McGavran … as national chaplain and chairman of religious activities of the U. S. Junior Chamber of Commerce, Cloyd R. Croft, Jr.… as pastor of the Tremont Temple Baptist Church in Boston, the Rev. Carl J. Giers … as editor-in-chief of Forth Magazine, official monthly of American Episcopalianism, Henry L. McCorkle … as national executive director of Episcopal women’s work, Miss Frances M. Young … as superintendent of Christian Herald’s Bowery Mission and Young Men’s Home, Raymond J. Allen … as president of the newly-formed National Student Christian Federation, Allan Burry.

It was the first meeting between the President and Vagnozzi, whose predecessor was elevated to the College of Cardinals earlier this year.

How Ecumenical?

Greek Orthodox Archbishop Iakovos says that “officially” the Ecumenical Patriarchate in Istanbul “knows nothing” about reported plans for discussions in Italy next year between Roman Catholic and Orthodox representatives.

In a statement released through the World Council of Churches office in Geneva, the archbishop said the Orthodox will “never participate in any conversation with the Roman Catholic church which does not have as its eventual aim the inclusion of Protestants.”

The Orthodox prelate, recently elected a WCC president, was commenting on a report broadcast by Vatican Radio last month which said that 10 Roman Catholic representatives and an equal number from Orthodox churches would convene in Venice for “theological discussions of interest to both churches.”