An unloving and critical spirit is clear evidence that there is something wrong inside. We see things in others that we do not like, and we forget that God is looking into our hearts and seeing there many things grievous in his sight. Lovelessness eats as a canker in our souls, taking away joy, power in witnessing, and a sense of the presence of Christ. It grieves his heart and tarnishes our spirits.

On every hand one comes in contact with frictions, jealousies, back-biting, gossip, and just plain bad manners on the part of some Christians in their attitudes toward and dealings with other Christians. There is not one of us who has not been guilty of this in some measure, so there is no need to point the finger of accusation at others unless we search our own hearts and recognize and confess this great sin ourselves.

I remember a day that brought separate visits from two Christians who live in different cities but have occasion for repeated contacts with each other. From each there came a tale of criticism. They were utterly miserable and did not know why. Each was cherishing a grudge against the other. Each thought he had been wronged. Each was bitter in his criticism of the other.

As I listened I was sick at heart. I know both of these persons well, knew that they are unquestionably Christians and that God has used them, each in his own sphere. But here was a spirit that dishonored the Lord and greatly lessened their influence as Christians. This situation may, unfortunately, be considered commonplace within the Christian community. Brethren, these things ought not so to be.

Often there is the clash of personalities. One considers himself better than the other, or the peculiarities of one person “get on the nerves” of another and he breaks forth in words of resentment and criticism. How easy it is to magnify the peculiarities of others and to ignore the possibility that our own idiosyncrasies may be even more offensive!

At other times our anger smolders at wrongs someone has done to us. Sometimes these wrongs are the products of our own imagination. When the wrongs are real, we may forget that forgiveness is a Christian virtue, based on God’s forgiveness to us. Who are we to cherish resentment when God has forgiven us for so much?

Often we clash with others because we are determined to have our own way. Willfulness and self-assertiveness are often signs of immaturity or ignorance. Many times I myself have been sure of my own judgment and sought to carry it out only to find that someone else had a much better idea.

Many times the failure to exhibit Christian love is a case of just plain bad manners. Christians should, of all people, exhibit love and consideration of others, but they often fail miserably. A little girl is reported to have prayed: “Oh Lord, make more people Christians, and then make more Christians nice.”

That there should be secret scheming by Christians against other Christians seems unthinkable, but if we search our own hearts we know that many of us have been guilty of this sin.

Again, petty revenge ever lurks in the wings, anxious to assert itself in the guise of righteous indignation, or contending for the faith, or some other pious-sounding but hypocritical attitude.

How many of us love to gossip! We hear about backsliding by a fellow Christian and can hardly wait to tell someone else. And in the telling the story grows and becomes distorted, to the injury of our brother and the scarring of our own souls. Somewhere along the way Satan attached the word “harmless” to gossip. What a trap!

In all this harshness and lack of Christian love, the solution rests with the individual Christian and his Lord. God will give the grace to overcome this sin, and he will give us Christian love through his Spirit. But we must practice this grace. With it comes a wonderful change in attitude toward others and peace in one’s heart.

Our Lord spoke of the priority of reconciliation over acts of worship. He tells us first to be reconciled to our our brother, then to come to him in worship. This is not easy, for it requires the grace of humility, but what peace and joy it brings to the one who is so reconciled!

Basic to such love is a realization of God’s love for us in Christ. He did not come to die for saints but for sinners such as we are. This love of both the Father and the Son is reflected in our hearts by the indwelling Spirit.

Paul tells us that God will teach us to love others, even the most unlovely (1 Thess. 4:9). In Galatians 5:13 and 14 he says: “Through love be servants of one another. For the whole law is fulfilled in one word, “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.”

The definition of Christian love is one we should study repeatedly. It involves patience, kindness, without either jealousy or boastfulness. It does not insist on its own way, is not irritable or resentful. It does not rejoice at wrong but rejoices in the right. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, and endures all things.

How far most of us come short of these standards! Unbelievers look at us and scoff. Believers consider and mourn.

Paul, speaking of the works of the flesh, numbers far more sins of the spirit than of the body. “Enmity, strife, jealousy, anger, selfishness, dissension, party spirit, envy”—eight of the fifteen specific sins mentioned in Galatians 5:20 have to do with our relationships with others.

The Kingdom of God is hindered because so many of us who name the name of Christ show little evidence of Christian love.

But where such love is found, how winsome and refreshing! The healing balm of love is desperately needed in a world where Satan tempts us to the very opposite. Faith abides because it is a reaction of man to God’s offer of salvation. Hope is a result of our faith in the saving and keeping power of Christ. But it is love that demonstrates to others that our faith and hope are genuine.

May God enable us to love our brothers for his glory!

The State Of Israel At Twenty-Five

Israel is unique among the people of the earth: its national tradition goes back some thirty-five centuries, to the Exodus from Egypt, and its sacred history even further, to the first parents of the human race. Israel’s singularity includes, according to its prophets, a special relationship with God: “You only have I known among all the families of the earth,” says the Lord, and he adds the momentous line, “therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities” (Amos 3:2).

In purely human terms, Israel is rare indeed in having preserved a national continuity for so many centuries, during which time powerful empires and brilliant civilizations have risen and fallen. And it is unique in having survived almost twenty centuries of unbroken subjection to foreign powers and of dispersion among the other nations of the earth—the subjection dating from the occupation of Israel by Pompey the Great in 63 B.C. and the great dispersion from the conquest and destruction of rebellious Jerusalem by the Romans in A.D. 70. (The period of the Maccabees excepted, Israel had been under foreign control since Nebuchadnezzar.)

The last days of this dispersion were marked by a persecution unparalleled for its implacability and thoroughness, the Nazi holocaust. Yet only three years after the destruction of Adolf Hitler’s misnamed Thousand Year Reich, an independent Jewish state was reborn in Palestine. The reestablished state of Israel has run through twenty-five years of history. Begun in defiance of a seemingly overwhelming hostility on the part of the Arabs of the Middle East, Israel has won three wars and withstood the military, economic, and propaganda assaults of adversaries many times its size. Yet the adversity shows no signs of letting up. The surrounding Arab nations consider themselves at war with Israel, but after three sanguinary military defeats at its hands, they confine themselves chiefly to observing the actions of terrorists against tourists, diplomats, athletes, and others who cannot defend themselves as Israel can. Israel, a highly organized, modern, technological, and socialistic state, strikes back from time to time with a ferocity and effectiveness that may be understandable but that seems to many to transgress the limits of civilized international conduct. And the hostility between the Arabs and Israel is cruelly exploited by great powers with scant concern for the well-being of either Arabs or Jews.

Christians around the world have always had a special relationship with the Jewish people and their religion, and it has all too often been marked by tension, misunderstanding, and mutual hostility. Many ostensibly in the Christian camp seek to mitigate the ancient tensions by abandoning the preaching of Christ to the Jews; evangelical Christians, on the other hand, seeing in Israel’s return to the land the fulfillment of biblical prophecy, often adulate the modern state of Israel and its citizens and neglect to recognize that a people can contribute to the fulfillment of God’s historic plan while its members remain indifferent to his calling to them as individuals. Admiring in modern Israel the courage, determination, and decisiveness that we miss in our own sleek foreign and domestic policies, many Americans fail to recognize that a determinedly pro-Israel stand may not always correspond to justice and frequently—as oil-producing Arab nations are seeking to make clear—may not work to our own national interests either.

As we contemplate this milestone in modern Israel’s history, we pray for its leaders and people a double measure of wisdom and courage for the conduct of national policy, and the grace of God’s Holy Spirit to recognize in a personal way the call of Jesus Christ. And for the Gentile nations, we pray for wisdom and integrity in dealing with the conflicting claims of justice, race, and religion, centering on soil so central to God’s history with mankind.

Time To Reap

From time to time we have urged evangelicals to use every legitimate means to get the Gospel of Christ to people. Elsewhere in our pages (News, page 39) is an account of how this is being done effectively through the medium of film.

World Wide Pictures’ latest film, Time to Run, has met with great response. By mid-April nearly 100,000 viewers had signed cards to say that they had accepted Christ, had rededicated their lives, or wanted further help. There is a real spiritual need; people are searching, and they will respond to the Gospel. We had better reap while it is harvest-time.

Very few evangelistic films have been shown in commercial theaters, perhaps not because the theaters would not have them but because those available have been few in number and, often, mediocre. The good reception of Time to Run by theater audiences and its acclaim by secular critics may be a turning point.

The medium is not the message in this case; it is outside and above the medium. It can be carried through the ear gate and the eye gate in a number of different ways. World Wide Pictures is not in business to entertain or to make money. Its purpose is to present the Gospel of salvation through film, and this it has been doing with increasing effectiveness.

Time to Run will certainly not receive an Emmy award or be shown at the Cannes film festival. But there are thousands of people (the film has been seen by more than 1.3 million) who are thanking God for the salvation they were led to receive by viewing it.

Snakes And Strychnine

The religious snake-handlers are in the news again (see News, page 44), and this time their activities have included drinking the deadly poison strychnine. Sure enough, the poison did its work. Death emerged victor over gross stupidity, bad biblical exegesis, and falsely grounded faith.

In the temptation of Jesus, Satan challenged him to jump off the pinnacle of the temple, quoting Scripture to the effect that God “will give his angels charge of you” and “on their hands they will bear you up, lest you strike your foot against a stone.” Jesus rebuked Satan by saying, “You shall not tempt the Lord your God.” That is exactly what these misguided people are doing.

The snake-handlers fail to take with equal seriousness the last part of Mark 16:18, whose first part (“they will pick up serpents, and if they drink any deadly thing, it will not hurt them”) they claim as their basis for handling snakes and drinking poison. That second part says, “They will lay hands on the sick, and they will recover.” Their sick did not recover, unless they count death recovery. Sane counsel should suggest to them that since they have not healed the sick they had better reconsider handling snakes and drinking poison.

One could have real sympathy for them if these things happened inadvertently, while they were attempting to preach the Gospel to the whole creation. But they have never left Tennessee to do that. Until they do they ought not tempt God, who refuses to be mocked.

The Troubled Truce

For some years the American people hoped Southeast Asia would disappear from thought and sight. They heaved a dull sigh of relief when the truce arrangements were concluded in Paris and it appeared as though a shaky peace between North and South Viet Nam had been established. The relief may have been premature. Recent developments scotch optimism that the matter has been permanently settled.

Canada’s peace-keeping delegation has charged Hanoi with violating the Paris agreement. This charge is indubitably true, and the violation is in no sense unexpected, given Communist ethical attitudes. South Viet Nam is not invading North Viet Nam, nor is it bombing the north. The south is still being barraged by the north.

Hanoi is also trying to topple Cambodia, and as usual China and Russia provide armaments to do the job. The United States has been bombing in Cambodia, and the familiar voices have been raised in the U. S. Senate to warn that the Cambodian action could bring about another Viet Nam. This is, of course, very improbable. President Nixon took four years to disengage from Viet Nam; that he would repeat the performance of his predecessors is highly unlikely.

No one needs a crystal ball to predict that Southeast Asia will remain a boiling cauldron for some time to come. The Communists have not surrendered their objectives, and they will not fail to take whatever steps they can, legitimate or illegitimate, to take over all of that area. World opinion means nothing to them. The only language they understand and respect is sheer force. But since the United States has relinquished force in Viet Nam, it is unlikely to apply it again against Hanoi.

If what has happened since the Paris agreement was signed is any index for the future, Hanoi and Saigon will probably meet in a decisive confrontation that will determine whether Saigon can go it alone. This it must do, without further American intervention.

A Quick Step Backward

Last month it was disclosed that in 1971 a branch of the National Institutes of Health recommended government approval and financing of medical experiments on still-living recently aborted fetuses. An immediate hue and cry was raised by many of those who, at the time of the Supreme Court’s strange abortion ruling (Wade v. Roe, et al.), had warned that such callous disregard for elemental human rights would soon lead to further exploitation of helpless human subjects (see the editorial “Another Little Step,” April 27 issue). With singular and appropriate speed, spokesmen for the National Institutes announced that such experimentation is being neither performed nor contemplated. (In Britain, fetuses are so used.) We can certainly be grateful for this announcement, which precludes, for the time being at least, one of the grislier possible consequences of our nation’s new abortion policies.

At the same time, we cannot be sure that the NIH decision has definitely eliminated the danger we foresaw. Articles immediately appeared in the press warning that it “imperils essential research.” And we cannot avoid the suspicion that the decision could have been based on expediency and an attempt to avoid controversy rather than on ethical principle. Unless and until legislation is adopted to grant a measure of protection to helpless human life, we have no reason to expect that those who would like human subjects for experimentation will not soon try again. First, however, we can expect a media campaign to desensitize the general public and soften it up to the idea that such experimentation is indeed “critical” and urgently “required.”

Whether such a campaign will be engineered by special-interest groups or simply result from the disordered moral values of a large segment of the intellectual community will probably not be easy to determine; we suspect, however, that the campaign will be evident soon enough. The present “step back” does nothing to protect the unborn from destruction by abortion: it merely specifies that the process may not be unduly prolonged and scientifically exploited. The cardinal error lies not in the use of the dying fetus after abortion but in the mentality that accepts the right to order abortions, in the words of Justice White’s dissenting opinion, “for any reason, or no reason at all.”

History Humbles

Kudos to Sydney Ahlstrom for winning the National Book Award (equivalent of a Pulitzer prize or an Oscar) for A Religious History of the American People. The annual awards are given in ten categories. Ahlstrom won in philosophy and religion. Another largely religious book, The Children of Pride by Robert Manson Myers, which was based on the voluminous correspondence among a Southern Presbyterian minister’s family around Civil War times, shared the prize in the history category (see editorial in our July 28, 1972, issue, page 25). These books were the only two winners to come from a single publisher, Yale University Press.

Ahlstrom’s book won top honors in CHRISTIANITY TODAY’s annual survey of church-history books (March 2 issue, page 28). For a major review of the work see page 18 of this issue.

Although Ahlstrom is not a conservative evangelical, he is a practicing Lutheran layman, and he tries to be scrupulously fair in dealing with the tremendous diversity of religious beliefs in American life, from the most pedestrian to the outrageously bizarre.

For one who has finished such a major undertaking, Ahlstrom is becomingly modest. He does not pretend to be free of any philosophical tendencies of his own but describes himself as “broadly Hegelian” (as was the famous evangelical historian of the last century, Philip Schaff), with modifications from the early Marx, Weber, Croce, Troeltsch, Dilthey, and H. Richard Niebuhr. Moreover, in his acceptance remarks he acknowledged that “historical work is itself a Sisyphean labor. Each generation of historians revises the interpretations of its predecessors. History humbles; and I know that both my work and this award will in due course (and maybe very soon) take their place in critical estimates of our own span of time.”

Christians need to encourage the kind of scholarship that recognizes its own limitations. Unfortunately, too many of the recognized intellectuals in the evangelical community of our time display the very opposite of humility in their writings and their personal demeanor. One of our editors worked as a student, dissertation advisee, and teaching assistant under Ahlstrom for a number of years. The learned scholar’s willingness to converse with—even to ask advice of—one whose views are rudely dismissed as “fundamentalist” by so many in the academic realm was a continual reminder that most truly great intellectuals do not manifest the arrogance of so many of their less gifted imitators.

Spring Fever

This season of the year affects people in very different ways. Tennyson, as everyone knows, described spring as a time when “a young man’s fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.” Browning thought it a time of optimism, when people tend to overlook faults:

Songs, Spring thought perfection,

Summer criticizes;

What in May escaped detection,

August, past surprises,

Notes, and names each blunder.

Dictionary definitions of spring fever note widely varying symptoms: languor, laziness, and listlessness in some, rejuvenation, yearning, and restlessness in others. Perhaps the only accurate generalization is that spring intensifies feelings, whether good or bad, positive or negative.

Perhaps the most acute form of spring fever is that which brings on depression, and this can afflict the Christian as well as the unbeliever. New life appears everywhere except inside us. Nature is on the move again, but we feel static and stagnant. We even get “weary in well doing.”

Can a Christian do anything to accelerate his “bottoming out” and becoming productive again? The carnal man looks for temporal answers: a new job, a new home, a new spouse. The truly Christian answer is a reliance upon the Word of God and the God of the Word. Paul, writing to the Galatians, urged them not to be weary in well doing. Under the inspiration of the Holy Spirit he assured them that “in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.”

The Reverend Elmer Sahlberg, a veteran missionary in Thailand under the Christian and Missionary Alliance, stoutly maintains that although people disappoint him from time to time, he has never actually been discouraged. And he credits trust in the Bible’s promises as the thing that keeps him optimistic. Total commitment to divine revelation prevents him from letting circumstances get the best of him.

For as the rain cometh down, and the snow from heaven, and returneth not thither, but watereth the earth, and maketh it bring forth and bud, that it may give seed to the sower, and bread to the eater: so shall my word be that goeth forth out of my mouth: it shall not return unto me void, but it shall accomplish that which I please, and it shall prosper in the thing whereto I sent it [Isa. 55:10–11].

Inside 475 Riverside Drive

The Liberalization of American Protestantism, by Henry J. Pratt (Wayne State University, 1972, 303 pp., $15.95), is reviewed by David E. Kucharsky, managing editor, CHRISTIANITY TODAY.

The title is somewhat misleading. Don’t expect a study of American Protestantism, except as it relates to the National Council of Churches, because the NCC is what this book is really about. Pratt, an able political scientist, explores the means by which this voluntary organization has tried to achieve its social objectives. By “liberalization” he refers primarily to the NCC’s substitution of political activism and support of increasing government intervention for its original approach, namely, education in a broad sense.

Generally speaking, the book presents a fairly accurate and penetrating analysis—indeed, an unusually candid interpretation—of the NCC.

Unfortunately, Pratt as a political scientist does not correlate developments in the NCC with theological changes that have influenced NCC member communions. The result is that the reader does not get the whole story, and he is not told why the NCC concentrates on some social issues to the neglect of others (except to be told that “the NCC is generally passive, allowing external events to order its priorities”).

Despite all the NCC’s propagandizing for politically liberal causes, however, most of its staff and budget are still occupied with matters quite unrelated to politics. Pratt surely knows this; yet he gives the reader the impression that little other than lobbying goes on at 475 Riverside Drive.

Conservatives owe it to themselves to read this book, for it tells how a minority element seized and continues to hold control of the NCC. The impotency of conservative churchmen, Pratt concludes, “is partially attributable to the skill of council leaders in countering criticism and isolating opponents.”

Pratt purports to be dispassionate, but he could not suppress the inclination to describe the NCC’s increasing pressure on government as a progressive trend. Unfortunately, however, for the church to try to tell the state what to do is nothing new. The methodology is more sophisticated today, but the practice is an old one, and one that has been held in some disrepute.

In The Journals

Four denominations in the Wesleyan tradition (Nazarenes, Brethren in Christ, Free Methodists, and Wesleyan Church) now jointly sponsor The Preacher’s Magazine. Other evangelical ministers and theological libraries should consider subscribing. (2923 Troost Ave., Kansas City, Mo. 64109; $2/year, monthly.)

Down Under continues to provide stimulating articles by evangelicals in Interchange. The latest issue, number 11, looks at “War and Christian Responsibility,” asks whether science is a contemporary god, asks the meaning of “the body of Christ,” and three other topics. (Room 1, 2nd Floor, 405–11 Sussex St., Sydney 2000, Australia; U. S. $4 for 4 issues.)

NEWLY PUBLISHED

Orthodoxy, by G. K. Chesterton (Doubleday, 160 pp., $1.25 pb). Reprint of a splendid, wonderfully refreshing piece of Christian apologetics, by one of the most brilliant Catholic literary figures of this century. Should never have gone out of print.

From Parent to Child About Sex, by Wilson W. Grant, M.D. (Zondervan, 183 pp., $3.95, $1.95 pb). Helps Christian parents lead children toward healthy sexuality. Competent, practical, highly readable treatment of what to say and when to say it, from infancy to late teens.

The Soul Afire: Revelations of the Mystics, edited by H. A. Reinhold (Doubleday, 480 pp., $1.95 pb). A well-arranged, extensive collection; primarily of writing by Christian mystics, but including related Scripture and poetry. Mysticism, an attempt through contemplation and self-surrender to order one’s self totally with God and to “know” him beyond earthly knowledge, has provided rich devotional insights. An excellent book.

A Survey of Bible Doctrine, by Charles Caldwell Ryrie (Moody, 191 pp., $2.25 pb). Simple introduction to topics such as God, the inspiration of Scripture, the Holy Spirit, angels, man, the Church, prophecy. By the professor of systematic theology at Dallas Seminary.

Dedicated Poverty, by Philip F. Mulhern (Alba House, 246 pp., $5.95). A Dominican scholar presents a well documented discussion of positions regarding voluntary poverty in Scripture and throughout church history. Recommends statements of Vatican II that regard poverty as an effective sign of voluntary Christian commitment.

Do and Tell: Engagement Evangelism in the 70’s, by Gabriel Fackre (Eerdmans, 106 pp., $1.45 pb), and Evangelism For Today’s Church, by Leslie Woodson (Zondervan, 159 pp., $1.25 pb). Both center on what’s needed in contemporary America. Fackre is a United Church seminary professor who prescribes social action along with telling the story of God’s actions to an experience-oriented culture. Woodson is a Methodist pastor who clearly maps out steps for a church to take in performing its most important mission.

You and Youth, by Lawrence O. Richards (Moody, 128 pp., $1.95 pb). Focuses on understanding and meeting needs of teenagers; emphasizes student-teacher communication with chapters on developing attitudes toward Scripture, class structuring, and how to encourage response to God. Very helpful, practical guidelines.

Your Mind Matters, by John R. W. Stott (Inter-Varsity, 64 pp., $.95 pb). Another good book by the well-known preacher and author. Shows clearly the indispensable place of the intellect in the Christian’s life. Very timely.

Genesis to Deuteronomy, by C. H. Mackintosh (Loizeaux, 912 pp., $10.95). Originally published in six volumes nearly a century ago, this widely acclaimed devotional commentary has been continuously in print. It is now newly typeset into one convenient easy-to-read volume, and will undoubtedly continue to be much in demand.

Will All the King’s Men, by James Olthuis et al. (Wedge [229 College St., Toronto 2B, Ontario], 255 pp., $3.95 pb). A unified group of seven essays by six men. The body of Christ, the “ecclesia,” exists not only for collective worship but also for all community functions, such as political, economic, juridical. Restricting the modern “church” to collective worship limits mutual support among Christians and prevents significant influence on the culture of our age.

The Person of Christ: The Son of God and the Word of God in the Setting of John’s Gospel, by Brash Bonsall (Christian Literature Crusade [201 Church Road, London, S.E. 19, England], 256 pp., £1.75, £1.05 pb). An engagingly readable and yet highly learned treatment of the relation between Jesus Christ and the Word of God; offers an astonishing wealth of historical detail and psychological insight. An unusual offering, with something to interest everyone, from a versatile evangelical.

Hegel’s Dialectical Method, by William Young (Craig, 135 pp., $4.95 pb). Hegel’s dialectic has influenced theology tremendously: most recent theologians are either molded by it or in reaction against it. Likewise, Hegelian thought dominates political theory, thanks to his Marxist successors. Young offers an amazingly clear and brief explanation of this exceedingly difficult thinker.

Raising Your Child, Not by Force, But by Love, by Sidney D. Craig (Westminster, 190 pp., $5.95), and The Future of the Family, edited by Louise Kapp Howe (Simon and Schuster, 378 pp., $8.95). Craig approaches child-rearing with the Golden Rule in mind. He treads a fine line between permissiveness and responsible firmness; his ideas are well worth considering. Howe’s collection of essays considers the various trends in American families. While the essays ignore the biblical approach, the volume helps the Christian parent know the influences alive today.

Hereafter, by David Winter (Harold Shaw [Box 567, Wheaton, Ill. 60187], 91 pp., $1.25 pb). A very helpful booklet giving biblical perspectives about death, heaven, and eternal life.

Successful Biblical Youth Work, by Elmer L. Towns (Impact [1625 Broadway, Nashville, Tennessee 37202], 375 pp., $5.95). An updated version of Successful Youth Work with twelve new chapters discussing identity crisis in teens and other aspects of a church youth ministry. Intended as a textbook.

How to Be a Winning Loser, by Jim Macholtz (Warner, 112 pp., $2.50 pb). Discussions on all aspects of sports, plus sections of the New Testament paraphrased for the athlete. Points to Christian values in competition and is aimed at teen-agers.

The Reformation of Journalism: A Christian Approach to Mass Communication, by Jon R. Kennedy (Craig, 144 pp., $2.95 pb). Argues that the essential function for the Christian journalist is to proclaim the total message of Christ, including its social implications, to all segments of society. To do so he must stand apart from the world order such as in new Christian institutions, e.g., schools, political parties, and especially newspapers.

A Symposium on Creation: IV, edited by Donald Patten (Baker, 159 pp., $2.95). Eight essays from creationist perspectives on such topics as instinct, blood, flood traditions, and botany.

Right With God, by John Blanchard (Tyndale, 137 pp., $1.25 pb). Written for the “genuine seeker” after God. Outlines basic principles on God, man, the Bible, and the solution for man’s sin and separation from God. Adequate, but there are other books of this character that are better.

This Fellow Jesus, by Louis Cassels (Warner, 93 pp., $.95 pb). Jesus’ life and teachings as reported in the Gospels engagingly summarized in contemporary language for interested inquirers.

The Wheelbarrow and the Comrade, by Irene Hanson (Moody, 187 pp., $3.95). A Presbyterian missionary who was “adopted” by a Chinese family and traveled by wheelbarrow teaching throughout Shantung province reminisces about twenty-five years in her beloved China.

Out! In the Name of Jesus, by Pat Brooks (Creation House, 238 pp., $4.95). A book based on the author’s experiences in confronting and ending demonic possessions. Easy reading. Some points of doctrine are arguable.

Shalom: The Search For a Peaceable City, by Jack Stotts (Abingdon, 224 pp., $5.95). A major treatment of theological, sociological, and symbolic aspects of peace as reality and as concept. The author, who teaches ethics at McCormick, draws heavily on biblical and patristic material as well as on modern theologians, but does not develop a distinctively biblical approach.

Amos the Prophet: The Man and His Background, by Hans Walter Wolff, (Fortress, 100 pp., $2.95 pb). This well documented, scholarly investigation of the cultural and literary background of the Old Testament prophet is a useful tool for the discerning advanced student.

The Letter and the Spirit, by Robert Kahn (Word, 94 pp., $2.95). Rabbi Kahn explains many of the Old Testament laws and principles (in such areas as business, sex, personal relations, and ecology). Easy and enlightening reading on a portion of the Bible that few Christians have really studied. Highly recommended.

The Soul, the Pill, and the Fetus, by John Pelt (Dorrance [1809 Callowhill St., Philadelphia, Pa. 19130], 130 pp., $4.95). Beginning with the biblical view of man as a unity, an evangelical theologian gives a balanced and compassionate treatment, coming out clearly for a distinctively Christian stand in personal morality and for the right of the unborn to life. Well documented and comprehensive.

Ecclesial Cybernetics, by Patrick Granfield (Macmillan, 280 pp., $8.95). Applies cybernetic analysis to the Catholic Church, advocating more democratic procedures at each level of interaction.

Revival Fires in Canada, by Kurt Koch (Kregel, 102 pp., $1 pb). An interesting, chatty account of recent revival activity in various portions of Canada. Includes some of the background and some general principles on evaluating and participating in revivals.

Translation and Exposition of the Epistle of Jude, by George Lawlor (Presbyterian and Reformed, 151 pp., $3.95 pb). A New Testament professor at the Baptists’ Cedarville College in Ohio offers a thorough, scholarly commentary.

An Introduction to the Baptists, by Erroll Hulse (Carey Publications [5, Fairford Close, Haywards Heath, Sussex, England], 118 pp., 75 pence pb). Worldwide survey from the sixteenth century to the present of one of the largest Christian movements. Focuses on key individuals. Written by a leader in the current attempt to revive moderate “Calvinism” among Baptists.

Jesus Spells Freedom, by Michael Green (Inter-Varsity, 126 pp., $1.50 pb). A smoothly written, easily understandable book written primarily for collegian and adult. Outlines frivolous, modern use of the term “freedom” (of love, of thought, etc.) and shows how true freedom is grounded in a belief in Jesus Christ. It won’t “win” souls, but the book should provoke serious thinking among non-Christians while building up Christians.

An Urban Strategy For South America, by Roger S. Greenway (Baker, 282 pp., $4.95 pb). A study of biblical patterns of missions, considered in a framework of recent South American social and population trends. Highlights the best ideas used (most often by the younger, more aggressive Pentecostal churches). The author’s smooth style, objectivity, extensive research, and experience (several years as a missionary in Ceylon and Mexico; now Latin American area secretary of the Christian Reformed Church) combine to produce a very valuable book—both to the layman and to the missions expert; the observations are applicable far beyond South America.

Lamps Are For Lighting, by Louise A. Catton (Eerdmans, 123 pp., $2.45 pb). A biographical history showing how two Baptists, Helen Montgomery and Lucy Peabody, pioneered the interdenominational women’s foreign-missions movement at the turn of the century. An inspiring example of female achievement.

Between Hammer and Sickle, by Michael Wurmbrand (Tyndale, 172 pp., $1.95 pb). The son of the Jewish-Christian evangelist (formerly of Romania and now head of “Jesus to the Communist World” mission) tells his own life story. He echoes his father’s plea for Christians imprisoned in Communist lands.

The Responsible Campus: Toward a New Identity for the Church-related College, by Charles S. McCoy (United Methodist Board of Education [Box 871, Nashville, Tenn. 37202], 168 pp., n.p., pb). Of interest to leaders of denominational colleges.

The Prophet Ezekiel, by Arno Gaebelein (Loizeaux, 346 pp., $4.25). A long-out-of-print work by a leading Bible teacher early in this century is again available.

Don’t Call Me Preacher, by Phil Barnhart (Eerdmans, 188 pp., $1.95 pb). A white minister’s candid reflections on problems of personal growth relating to racial tension, economic injustice, and church renewal in a downtown Atlanta neighborhood. Moving.

Tournier: Physician To The Whole Person

The Christian Psychology of Paul Tournier, by Gary R. Collins (Baker, 1973, 222 pp., $4.95), is reviewed by Glenn R. Wittig, reference librarian, Speer Library, Princeton Theological Seminary, Princeton, New Jersey.

This is the first full-length study of the Swiss physician who has become the exemplar of Christian counselors. Gary Collins, chairman of the Division of Pastoral Psychology at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School, based his evaluation on an extensive study of Tournier’s books as well as on interviews with the doctor and with close friends and associates of his during a six-month stay in Geneva.

Collins had three goals: (1) to “describe Tournier to those who have never met him” through a sketch of the man (but not a full-length biography); (2) to identify, organize, and summarize the basic ideas in Tournier’s thought; (3) to evaluate Tournier’s thought and work.

This is a straightforward, fair analysis of Tournier. Collins examines the psychology, theology, methodology, and practical wisdom of this complexly simple medical practitioner. He extracts ideas from Tournier’s casebook-style writings, places them in context, and assesses their value. Yet the degree to which he achieves his three goals varies.

The biographical portion is sketched in very briefly and sometimes rather vaguely. The main points are presented—the early death of both of Tournier’s parents and his upbringing by an aunt and uncle, his education and marriage, the influence of his association with the Oxford Group, the decision to embark upon what is now known as the “medicine of the whole person”—but a number of the influential personalities in Tournier’s life (e.g., Jan van Walré de Bordes, a Dutch official in the League of Nations; Frank N. D. Buchman, founder of the Oxford Group; and Alphonse Maeder and Jean de Rougement, cofounders with Tournier of the “Bossey Group”) are not identified by name. Collins’s imprecision at this point is not easy to understand.

On the other hand, his explication of the background of each of Tournier’s books is lucid and informative. He offers considerable new material here.

The main strength of Collins’s work lies in its middle portion. Here the sorting and analysis of continuing themes and diverse ideas occurs, and Collins shows a thorough mastery of Tournier’s thought. He notes Tournier’s views of man’s psychological nature, including his development, personality, and motivation. He categorizes Tournier’s beliefs about God, the role of Scripture, man and his salvation, the Church, the Christian life. In the chapter on methodology he deals with Tournier as a counselor, writer, and lecturer. And he presents a miscellany of topics—e.g., the single life, marriage, sex, work, and society—under the heading “The Practical Wisdom of Tournier.”

Possibly the most valuable chapter in the book is the one devoted to Tournier’s continuing attempt to integrate psychology and religion. Collins’s handling sets the matter in bold relief.

The author’s respect and admiration for his subject do not prevent him from noting gaps and weaknesses, such as Tournier’s conception of instincts, his avoidance of the subject of hell, and his tendency toward a universalistic interpretation of salvation.

The detailed presentation of Tournier’s thought is the forte of this study. Yet Collins’s success in presenting this material is blunted to the extent that he fails to pursue far enough some of the issues he so perceptively notes. He raises some legitimate questions but does not follow through to find answers.

Several lesser criticisms: there is less evidence of information gathered from interviews and friends than I expected; and while the work is heavily documented with references to Tournier’s books, periodical articles and secondary material were only slightly used.

Collins writes in a free and easy style similar to that of his subject. While the biographical portion is weak, his analysis of Tournier’s thought and work is a valuable contribution. (An article by Collins on Tournier begins on page 7 of this issue.)

A Religious History of the American People, by Sydney E. Ahlstrom (Yale, 1972, 1,158 pp., $19.50), is reviewed by Erling Jorstad, professor of history and American studies, St. Olaf College, Northfield, Minnesota.

In CHRISTIANITY TODAY’s report on significant books of 1972 (March 2, 1973, issue), the reviewer chose the Ahlstrom history as “the most significant book of church history to appear” that year. I would go beyond that to say the book is among the most significant to appear in several years. If nothing else, it is the largest single-volume history of American religion—1,096 pages of text—and it has the most complete up-to-date bibliography now available. Last month it was honored with the prestigious National Book Award as 1972’s winner in the area of philosophy and religion. It belongs in the library of every minister and congregation from Adventist to Zionist.

Sydney Ahlstrom, a professor of both American history and modern church history, and former chairman of the American Studies program at Yale, is ideally suited to produce such a history. He draws on this broad background to contribute what is a major breakthrough in the study of American religious history. He is convinced that on the basis of the rapid and deep-rooted changes that have taken place in American religious life in the 1960s, changes that he believes are more than temporary fads, it is time to take a long, hard look at the origins of religion in America to gain some perspective for the future.

Ahlstrom’s principal argument is that the 1960s “have marked a new state in the long development of American religious history,” and that this state could virtually eliminate traditional religious elements in American life. But the momentum of the 1960s, he concludes, could also be understood by Americans as a great opportunity to draw on “the profounder elements of their traditions,” there to find new sources of strength and confidence to vindicate “the idealism which has been so fundamental an element in the country’s past.”

So this is no old-fashioned history limited to describing just what happened, no straightforward fact-by-fact narrative, no denomination-by-denomination chronology, no eclectic, encyclopedic compilation of facts set into a narrative framework. It is, the author hopes, a resource that can help Americans find their bearings again after the storms of what he calls “the Turbulent Sixties.”

Yet having made this goal clear, the author follows the most strict and careful methods of traditional scholarly research, analysis, and exposition. He admits to having spent “a decade of his life” on this task, and the results of such labor are everywhere evident. He has worked through both the old master historians (e.g., Charles Andrews, George Bancroft) and the most recent scholarship, including the religious implications of the Beatles. He even has a sprightly little section on the Two Seed in the Spirit Predestinarian Baptists. He wisely avoids quibbling with fellow workers in the field such as Handy, Hudson, Marty, and Mead, yet shows his familiarity with their work. He openly acknowledges that he draws heavily on the standard secondary works. But it is evident in his chapters on theology that he has sifted his own way through the primary sources. In short, his scholarship is almost impeccable.

That established, it is necessary to say next that Ahlstrom’s book is a landmark for several reasons. It is the culmination of a trend among historians in this field to break out of the older scope of subject matter, the practice made by prominent W. W. Sweet of writing church history as denominational history. Ahlstrom vastly expands the boundaries of the field to include all important religious phenomena and groups, not just the Christian and Judaic traditions within American history.

He breaks new ground, next, in fulfilling one of the aims he sets forward in his preamble: to see American religious history in the “larger frame of world history.” This he does admirably, especially in the first section, drawing from the salient aspects of medieval and modern European history to show its influence on American religious life.

He next gives extensive attention to the many religious movements outside the mainstream of his subject; his last few chapters are a tour de force in the difficult field of writing contemporary history, as he explains the rise of the Orthodox churches, Christian Science, New Thought, Theosophy, Rosicrucianism, the occult, and such religions of the East as Vedanta, Bahai, and Buddhism. In each section, his discussion is a straightforward exposition of the group’s rise, its principal teachings, and its place in the general cultural setting of American life.

Finally, Ahlstrom’s book is a landmark methodologically because he carefully draws from a wide variety of sources—demographic, economic, political, and psychological, as well as the familiar social, ecclesiastical, and theological data of earlier historians. His work in the interdisciplinary field of American studies helped prepare him for showing clearly how intertwined these subjects are for religious history.

Ahlstrom has overcome perhaps the most difficult problem of all: dealing with theological and ethical issues while at the same time keeping the narrative moving ahead with careful attention to chronological sequence. He does this by using two kinds of chapters, fast-paced narratives and then rounded, in-depth analyses of the decisive theological or social issues. Both types of chapters are reminiscent of classroom lectures: an introductory definition of the topic, an exposition of the chief issues involved, a brief and appetizing use of primary source to give flavor to the narrative, and a summary showing what changes took place and how they fit into the larger picture. The theological chapters are models of lucid, critical scholarship, taking up in some detail such complex issues as the Half Way Covenant, Jonathan Edwards’s theology, the Enlightenment, the “Communitarian Impulse,” and many others. I was especially impressed with the chapters on romanticism, immigration, and nativism; they are interdisciplinary history at its best.

Ahlstrom is also the first in this field to give serious attention to the religious ideas of the native Americans, rather than considering them only as subjects for missionaries or trigger-happy militia. A further impression is that the author shows remarkable familiarity with the peculiar problems created by the widely varying kinds of ecclesiastical polity among the many denominations. He seems at home discussing church government battles among both the tiny and the giant church bodies.

In scope, sources of information, clarity and achievement of purpose, and judiciousness of judgment, then, this book sets standards those in the future must use as their criteria for model scholarship. I reluctantly bring up some areas of disagreement, doing so not only because a reviewer is supposed to but because the author invites commentators to call attention to his hidden presuppositions and unexamined major premises.

I would have appreciated a more thorough discussion of a phase of American religious life outlined briefly by Robert T. Handy in his recent anthology, Religion in the American Experience, when he mentioned that in their haste and need to attract supporters American churches did not take the time to educate their people seriously in their particular traditions and histories. As a result many denominations today find far more serious controversy within the denominations than against other denominations. Followers of one or another style of piety feel more comfortable with like-minded believers in other bodies than with their own—hence internal conflict, such as witnessed today by Catholics, southern Presbyterians, and Missouri Lutherans. A closer explanation of this phenomenon would be of great help.

In view of the author’s firm grasp of American social history, I wish he had given us a deeper discussion of the many problems facing the churches that made their programs so difficult to achieve. For instance, what effects have the automobile, the explosion of professional sports, and the growing secularization of Sunday had on religious life within the churches?

A few more quibbles, Ahlstrom could have used better sources of information on the National Association of Evangelicals than Gasper’s history; the works by Erickson and Shelley on new evangelicalism are more reliable and helpful. And Oscar Handlin’s heralded work The Uprooted has not stood up well under careful examination by specialists. Perhaps four pages of discussion of Ralph Waldo Emerson is too much, when compared to the space given to others such as Bushnell and Rauschenbusch.

More of the theological turmoil and pluralism of mainline American Protestantism would have been clarified had the author more fully discussed the battles within the major seminaries. Some attention is given to the best-known struggles, but we find only brief reference to the warfare over the historical-critical method, an issue that is still very alive and bothersome today. This becomes evident when in discussing the modernist-fundamentalist controversy of the 1920s Ahlstrom concludes that Machen’s Christianity and Liberalism “even after a half-century remains the chief theological ornament of American Fundamentalism.” The choice of the word “ornament” is regrettable, for its suggests that the book is only that. The works of the new evangelicals such as Henry, Ramm, and Carnell are representative of the heirs of Machen, but these are not discussed.

These comments should in no way discourage the reader from studying this enormously learned work. Ahlstrom has shown great courage and prepared himself for many criticisms such as those I just made by being willing to involve himself in the whole range of American religious history, just about as controversial a field as one can imagine. By covering the entire subject he leaves himself open to criticism on specific topics. But by his patient study, his careful organization, and his attention to detail and to the larger pattern he has provided us with a perspective by which we can fulfill his purpose for this volume: to use it and learn from it so we can draw from the more profound elements in our moral religious history to “vindicate the idealism” that is so vital a part of the religious history of the American people. (See editorial, page 29.)

Theology On Wheels

Many charges have been brought against the Jesuits in their long and tumultuous history. But the most nefarious deed ever perpetrated by one of their members has so far escaped condemnation.

In 1678 Ferdinand Verbiest, a Jesuit missionary to China, built the first working model of an automobile.

Verbiest could not possibly have realized the demonic nature of his invention. How could he know that the triumph of his toy would suppress truth, subvert honesty, and promote idolatry?

If he had had any idea of the impact of the automobile, surely he would have done posterity the service of revising the horsey Scriptures. The Psalmist could say: “Do not behave like the automobile, unreasoning creatures whose course must be checked with power steering.” (Ps. 32:9). The Prophet Isaiah could more relevantly admonish: “Shame upon those who go down to Detroit for help and rely on armored cars, putting their trust in tanks many in number …” (Isa. 31:1).

The moral effect of the automobile can hardly be overstated. The conscientious Christian who believes that his yes should mean yes and his no should mean no suspends that morality upon entering an auto dealer’s showroom.

With steady eye he will assure the salesman that the gasping heap of metal and glass parked outside—which will pass everything on the road except a gas pump—yields an economical eighteen miles to the gallon.

The salesman, not to be outdone in this fiction contest, will assure the buyer he’s taking a personal loss since his commission is going to come to about seventy-five cents an hour for his time.

And think of how many young men succumb to the incessant advertising that promises them they too will be like the gods if only they possess the XL 442. Bowing the knee to the great, gleaming, bechromed, oil-drooling, rubber-footed, two-ton Baal, the modern youth will dedicate himself to possessing one—however briefly—by hook or by crook.

Too often it won’t be by hook. I understand that a large proportion of car thievery is done by teen-agers who know they can’t get away with it but who feel irresistably drawn by the sense of power that comes when they have three hundred odd horsepower under foot.

One of the automobile’s most insidious effects can be seen in many ministers. Put mild-mannered Reverend Clark Kent behind the wheel of his Spitfire Eight and he becomes Super Andretti, chuckling over his reputation for “driving like Jehu.”

If they ever reinstate the Inquisition, I shall be the first in line to lay my case against Ferdinand Verbiest, S.J.

EUTYCHUS V

CAVALIER COVERAGE

I rejoiced to see the cover of the issue (March 30) which arrived in my mailbox several days ago, because, I reasoned, it might represent a sober reflection on Bangkok a couple of months later. I was deeply distressed by what I found, simply a continuation—in greater detail and somewhat greater depth—of the kind of cavalier, superficial, and parochial “impatient waving of the hand” (Arthur Glasser) that you did earlier with regard to the Bangkok meeting.

I am an evangelical serving in the mission agency of a conciliar church. I shared the anguish of Donald McGavran over Uppsala. I worked hard within my own denomination and in ecumenical circles to see that something would happen at Bangkok which would give greater representation to the understanding of the faith that I have. I was invited by Thomas Wieser to write one of the commentaries on the collection of testimonies. That surprised me. Other things surprised me too, notably the number of conservative evangelicals who were invited to Bangkok and related prior meetings. I spoke with many of them, counseled with some, and met with them afterwards to find out what happened. Over and over again I got the word that the direction in which the ecumenical movement was going at Geneva and at Uppsala had been in a very real way changed. Accepting the biblical view of the church as composed of wheat and tares, I rejoiced. I do not ask for perfection. Conversion will be slow, but we pray for it. In the meantime we learn from others as well and learn new ways of understanding a basically evangelical faith.

You do us evangelicals in the conciliar churches a real disservice by arrogating to yourselves the title of the evangelical witness and publishing your narrow-minded views as if they represent all the evangelicals in the world. I think at this time a distinction needs to be made between conservative evangelicals and hidebound ones.

ALFRED C. KRASS

Consultant on Evangelism

United Church Board for World Ministries

New York, N. Y.

Peter Beyerhaus’s article on “The Theology of Salvation in Bangkok” states in the concluding paragraph that it was “predictable” what the conference would come up with. His article strikes me as a somewhat strained effort to validate his own negative expectations … [and it] sets back the cause of constructive dialogue between Christians.… It is filled with insinuations about sinister plots, insidious schemes, and conspiracies by card-carrying ecumenical ecclesiocrats across the world, who allegedly took all of us unaware souls at Bangkok for a “sensitivity training” ride straight into secular theology. We were brainwashed, claims Beyerhaus, by the “shrewdest of psychological techniques,” as anonymous “sensitizers” infiltrated our small-group meetings. Such statements make me wonder how silly we can get in our uncreative encounters between Christians.

Beyerhaus mentions the great number of participants at Bangkok whose biblical convictions are very much intact. The conference model was designed to give an opportunity for their witness to be freely expressed in numerous contexts, and to me that was indeed a hopeful sign. I personally regret that there wasn’t more celebration of “Salvation Today” at Bangkok. The work of the Holy Spirit, I know, is not a matter of our techniques and designs, but our procedures do often stand in the way of experiencing the power of the Lord.

I am involved with “evangelicals” and “ecumenicals” in the planning of several Key 73 events. The design of those conferences is somewhat similar to the one used at Bangkok. At least in America we seem to be beyond the point of seeing all group-dynamics techniques as the enemies of grace.

A large number of “ecumenicals” and “evangelicals” are quite prepared to struggle together with the questions and challenges of mission today. In my judgment, Peter Beyerhaus’s suggestion that a representative convocation for frank discussion of the issues be sponsored by the World Council of Churches has merit. If the World Council has no interest in this, perhaps some other group does. That dialogue between people of living faith should be our first order of business.

ISAAC C. ROTTENBERG

Secretary for Program Interpretation

Reformed Church in America

New York, N. Y.

Congratulations on the splendid article “Dateline: Bangkok.” This is reporting at its best. I want you to know how much I appreciate it.

ROBERT C. SAVAGE

Dalton Baptist Church

Muskegon, Mich.

U.E. ANSWERS

I was very distressed when I read the allegations and innuendos contained in your April 13 article, “Underground Evangelism: The Rumors That Won’t Go Away.” I appreciate your second article, April 27, “Underground Evangelism: The Other Side,” which does clear the air somewhat. However, given the opportunity, we could have provided the necessary answers and documentation for the first article, making the second article unnecessary. The brevity of the second article as opposed to the length of the first article (two columns on one page as opposed to seven columns on four pages) leaves many allegations unanswered, even though we supplied the information for you. I will mention only a few.

Sergei Kourdakov did not receive $2,600 for expenses in October as you stated. This money was paid directly to printers, airlines, motels, etc., and Sergei did not receive one penny of it. Also, Sergei did not “drop out of sight” in Canada and “emerge a few weeks later in the United States in Underground Evangelism’s employ.” The facts are: In May Sergei began a series of public meetings across Canada, and his itinerary was well distributed even to the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. He came to the United States late in July for Underground Evangelism’s well publicized Winona Lake Conference. It really does not lessen the credibility of his testimony that “he was fed a stream of information on religious life in the Soviet Union.” Sergei’s knowledge of the church in Russia would be limited by necessity to those activities in which he personally participated: the persecution of the church.

Even though the findings of the coroner showed that the alcohol content in Sergei’s bloodstream was extremely small, and even though medical tests on the girl show that no sex act had occurred, we definitely do not approve of the activities of that New Year’s weekend. However, we do not believe this one occasion should have the effect of canceling Sergei’s challenging testimony. Sergei had made tremendous progress in his short Christian life. Those who discredit him would do well to exercise something of the same grace toward Sergei that God has shed in their own lives.

Space does not permit me to answer, in detail, every allegation in the article. Suffice it to say, there is nothing in the article which cannot be answered. I urge those who have questions to direct them to us. After examining our answers and documentations, you are free to arrive at your own conclusions, of course.

I do not believe CHRISTIANITY TODAY intentionally tried to harm the Lord’s work, but rather was the victim of misinformation. Unfortunately, rumors, like feathers in a wind, cannot be gathered again after they are scattered. Sadly, those who will suffer most from these rumors are those who are already suffering so much: the believers in Communist lands.

L. JOE BASS

President

Underground Evangelism International Glendale, Ill.

The article … is in my estimation what is commonly called yellow journalism. It had the markings of being unresearched, unfactual, generalized with innuendo, tantamount to a smear.… Mr. Plowman stated that Canadian Mounted Police reportedly located two brothers of Sergei Kourdakov. I challenge him to bring forth definite proof. He also quotes Congressman Landgrebe and others as to imply that their words are accepted fact, while at the same time statements by UE sources are “alleged” or implied as untrustworthy. The episode of Sergei Kourdakov leading up to his death is brought out to the barest degree only for the purpose of sensationalizing.… I realize that the coroner ruled the death as accidental. Perhaps this is true. I will not impugn the integrity of the official findings. At the same time, since all men are open to mistakes, it is entirely possible that a mistake could have been made in this case. Whatever the case, CHRISTIANITY TODAY is remarkably naïve in apparently underestimating the ability of the murderous KGB in assassination techniques. The spring issue of American Mercury would take some issue since this reliable magazine reports that Sergei was assassinated.

CHARLES HIGGS

Louisville, Ky.

As a former editor of Underground Evangelism Magazine, with fairly extensive knowledge of Underground Evangelism’s activities, I am amazed that a journal commanding the respect of the theological world would besmirch in such a libelous manner not only the excellent work of Underground Evangelism is doing but also the name of its brilliant young founder, the Reverend L. Joe Bass. To me this is a very shattering experience.

EVA JORDAN BLAIR

Glendale, Calif.

CHRISTIANITY TODAY is to be commended for courage. No doubt there was editorial agonizing as to whether to become involved in the unpleasant business of the sad death of Sergei Kourdakov and the general modus operandi of Underground Evangelism. There is a time for responsible Christians to finally in love and restraint speak out against unethical practices when they are rampant in a Christian organization. There is a cost involved in this kind of love. Thank you for paying it.

MYRNA GRANT

Wheaton, Ill.

When I was an atheist, proud of my unbelief and convinced that man must take hold of his own destiny, nothing shook my conviction more than the contrast between Christians and non-Christians.

My wife and I lived with our new baby boy in a mid-western college town, prosperous, middle-class, and clean. One Southern Baptist church served this community of 50,000. The church was young and vibrantly alive. Perhaps it was easier in those days, in that church, to grow in grace and in knowledge; in any case the people were doing so, responding joyfully to new challenges.

Nearby was the university, another growing institution. New dormitories were springing up every semester as the student body increased by hundreds, then by thousands. Here were large research laboratories, mountains of books, grandiose plans for future expansion. But something was wrong. Within my department, English, and within many others, I saw no evidence that any of my unbelieving acquaintances were growing better, happier, or more emotionally stable. On the contrary, all I could see was slow stagnation or rapid decline. Perhaps I was hypercritical, but I was looking for something to back up my belief in man’s power to control his own life.

Therefore I was dismayed when I witnessed a long departmental squabble ending in violent hatred and a much-publicized lawsuit. Several times I was embarrassed for both parties when I saw graduate students mercilessly browbeaten by professors for daring to debate minor issues in class. I was appalled as I watched brilliant scholars sinking deeper and deeper into an alcoholic daze until they hardly recognized their students or colleagues. I observed that every regrettable incident left scars on personalities, and that atheists and agnostics (a solid majority of the graduate students) often left worse persons than when they entered. Every intellectual gain seemed to be overbalanced by a spiritual loss.

Yet across town, in a modest building that the university would have been ashamed to use, men and women were changing in the opposite direction. I didn’t want to admit this, but the evidence was before my eyes. My wife, a faithful Christian with a quiet confidence that I would one day come to share her faith, wanted me by her side at church, so I went—to watch and criticize. Unfortunately for my atheism, I was committed to honesty.

The pastor, a young man recently out of seminary, occasionally misused or mispronounced a word, or hesitated in the middle of a sentence. But he seemed to improve every Sunday. Besides, he seemed better informed in a variety of fields than my professors were, and he certainly communicated better than most of them.

He and his wife seemed to keep growing closer together instead of further apart. His young son and daughter were the best behaved, yet seemingly the happiest children I had ever met. Gradually I began to await his messages eagerly, for I was learning about Christianity, learning from a man so careful with his facts, so scholarly in his approach, and yet so filled with enthusiasm for his subject that I felt I was in the presence of a real teacher for the first time. I hungered to know the secret of such growth, such awareness, such abundant life.

Much easier to criticize, at least at first, were my Sunday-school teachers. The class for young married couples was taught by a husband and wife about forty years old who had just stepped out of obscurity and rededicated their lives to Christ. To an ambitious graduate student like me, both seemed profoundly ignorant. But how they worked! Each Sunday one of them had a stack of notes drawn from several sources. Stumbling over every hard name, going always too fast or too slowly, clumsily attempting to use visual aids, they sweated through every presentation. I would often raise critical problems in class and laugh inwardly as they struggled for answers. Their simple, factual questions I would answer with arrogant ease, and I would criticize them to my wife afterward for not getting down to what I considered the important issues.

Yet before my eyes they were transformed, and criticism died on my lips. Through hard study and harder practice they became first-rate teachers, always prepared, always enthusiastic, always ready to listen as well as to speak. They looked more at the class, less at their notes. Their voices became firmer. They showed a loving concern for everyone in the class. Within one year they were conducting classes better than were many of my professors.

But others in the church were not growing. One member in particular became my target when I could no longer criticize my teachers. He was a slow-moving, gentle young man who seemed devoid of talent or real intelligence. He sang tenor in the choir and was usually off key. He tried to talk with me sometimes, and he seemed to have read all the wrong books and to have misinterpreted them besides. His enthusiasm for church struck me as childish. I suppose I was grasping at straws, trying to hold on to my belief that Christianity is a delusion and that Christians, however sincere, are nothing but ordinary people. Here, at least, was one person who showed every sign of being ordinary and staying that way.

But my attempts to protect my unbelief proved futile. Many factors, including the regular prayers of the very people I had been so harshly judging and the steadfast, loving witness of my wife, entered into my conversion, but at least on the surface nothing affected me more powerfully than watching Christians in action. If indeed any men or women seemed fit to take hold of their destiny and remake the world, these were the ones. Yet they had no such intention. Like little children, they knelt before God and asked his guidance. On April 23, 1967, I trusted Christ as Saviour and Lord.

That same year I took my family away to another community to accept a teaching position. Within the next year my wife and I felt an irresistible call to full-time Christian service, and we left our new community for theological seminary. Invited back to our first home church to preach an evening sermon and be licensed before departing for Texas, I was amazed to see on the platform the young man whom I had thought so unpromising, so unaffected by his Christianity. For several months now he had been performing every week as a featured soloist, accompanying himself on the guitar and singing hymns he had composed. His voice was now smooth and even, and he handled his guitar expertly. The words were simple but intense. As the last chord died away in the silence of the darkened church, and I rose to preach, I noticed in a side pew one of my former atheist friends, watching intently.

George M. Marsden is associate professor of history at Calvin College, Grand Rapids, Michigan. He has the Ph.D. (Yale University) and has written “The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian Experience.”

Of all the books in the New Testament, the Book of Revelation elicits the most varied responses from within the Christian community. Radicals use it as part of their revolutionary rhetoric; liberals treat it as an elaborate pipe-dream (or should I say a mushroom-induced hallucination); scientific rationalists haughtily dismiss it; while evangelicals alone seem to rejoice in its promise for the future. The most common response in recent years, however, has been benign neglect, or worse yet, indifference.

Perhaps the daily threats of nuclear holocaust, ecological collapse, catastrophic over-population, and genetic genocide have bludgeoned our sensitivities about the future into a comatose state. The old classroom distinction between the responses of two sets of trapped people to an uncontrollable fire—moviegoers frantically scurrying toward the door of their only escape, and the resigned submission of sailors in a sinking submarine to impending destruction—illustrates the critical role that hope and promise play in determining our perceptions of the future. Without any hope for the ultimate salvation of the historical process, man no longer dares or cares to think about the future.

Christians may find themselves reflecting this attitude. They may fail to remind the world that their philosophy of history includes not only forgiveness for the past and salvation in the present but also the biblical promise of total fulfillment in the future. To the extent that they do this, they are rejecting their peculiar heritage as Christians. Concern for the future has been a constant in the history of Christianity, as Christian men and women, inspired by apocalyptic passages in the Old Testament, the apocalypses in Matthew, Mark, and Luke, and the Book of Revelation, have anxiously awaited Christ’s return and anticipated the millennial kingdom.

All this is familiar to us. Less understood, however, has been the profound impact that the biblical image of the future has exerted on history and the extent to which what we mistakenly label “secular” history has been fashioned by the vision of a future millennium, especially as outlined in the Revelation of Saint John.

At certain times in history, millennial sentiment has spread to exercise a formative sway over diverse social movements and over broad sections of society. Among the periods and events that come to mind are the year 1000 A.D.; the crusades; the plague years, such as 1348, when even Petrarch was convinced that “the end of the world is at hand”; the monastic movements inspired by Abbott Joachim of Fiore in the thirteenth and fourteenth centuries; the early periods of exploration and Franciscan colonization of the New World; Lollardy and the Radical Reformation (specifically Thomas Müntzer and Münster); Queen Elizabeth’s apocalyptic assessment (shared by many of her subjects, such as John Foxe) that her reign was set in “these last and worst days of the world”; the English, French, and American Revolutions, and revolutionary periods in general; and nineteenth-century American reform movements. Increasingly, secular historians are realizing that millennialism cannot be dismissed, as a recent biographer tried to do, as “a certain hysteria, indicative of some mental unbalance.” Rather, a spirit of millennialism and concern for examining the future through the spectacles of the Book of Revelation have signified, not isolation from the mainstream of history, but total immersion in it.

A case in point is that of a much neglected abbot named Joachim of Fiore (ca. 1150–1202), who developed a philosophy of history that was to dominate Europe until the advent of Marxism. Even such modern philosophers of history as Comte, Lessing, Fichte, Hegel, Schelling, and Marx himself have been found to have Joachite underpinnings, and the secularized Joachite undertones in the phrase “the Third Reich” have not escaped attention. Joachim’s predictions (based on Revelation) of an imminent third and final dispensation of the Holy Spirit were so influential that in 1215, when Frederick II was given the imperial crown of the Roman Empire, he was perceived (and perceived himself) as the predicted Emperor of the Last Days who would liberate the Holy Sepulchre and prepare the way for the second coming and the millennial reign of Christ (see Norman Cohn, The Pursuit of the Millennium, 2nd ed., 1961, p. 103).

A similar mission largely motivated Christopher Columbus, a fact that most historians have ignored. In his little-known Book of Prophecies, Columbus related his commission as a “Christ bearer” (Christoferens) to free Jerusalem from the Muslims and to diffuse the Gospel throughout the world in order to pave the way for the millennium. In addressing Prince John, Columbus revealed his role in this cosmic drama: “God made me the messenger of the new heaven and the new earth, of which He spoke in the Apocalypse by Saint John, after having spoken of it by the mouth of Isaiah; and He showed me the spot where to find it.” It should not surprise us, then, that in a ship emblazoned with crosses on the sails and “in the name of Jesus,” Columbus embarked on what was in many ways the last of the crusades, invoking Joachim of Fiore as his patron in the expected evangelization of the world and, inadvertently, in the discovery of the Americas. As Mircea Eliade has recently admitted, it was in a “messianic and apocalyptic atmosphere” that “the transoceanic expeditions and the geographic discoveries that radically shook and transformed western Europe took place.”

But to appreciate fully the influence that millennialism in general and Revelation in particular have exerted on history, we must turn to the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries. Within the past few years, various historians have mined an amazingly rich quarry of millennialism in the allegedly “communistic” ideal of Digger Gerrard Winstanley; in the poetry of the mystic William Blake, who was inspired by such millennialist movements as Joachism, seventeenth-century Muggletonianism, and Swedenborgianism; in the history of the struggle of women for emancipation from the shackles of Kinder, Küche, und Kirche, begun in earnest during this period; in the sophisticated thought of John Milton; in the political and historical writings of Thomas Hobbes; and in the ideological apologists and actors in the English Revolution, including the indomitable Oliver Cromwell and the New Model Army.

Equally fascinating is the fashionable attention given to Revelation during this period. Sir Isaac Newton, who spent more time ruminating on biblical prophecies than on scientific experiments, argued in his posthumously published commentary on Daniel and Revelation that to repudiate these prophecies was to reject the entire Christian religion and tradition. (The only conspicuous dissenters from Newton’s observation would have been the early Martin Luther and John Calvin, who found the Book of Revelation too elusive for intelligible exposition.)

This connection between science and Revelation was the norm for the seventeenth century. John Napier, whose commentary on Revelation went through at least twenty-three editions by 1700 and numerous translations, attempted to translate scriptural mathematics into scientific calculus. In so doing he invented logarithms, which he proceeded to use to compute the date of the Parousia—between 1688 and 1700. The scientist and mathematician William Whitson, Newton’s successor as professor of mathematics at Cambridge, was expelled in 1710 as a result of his Arian efforts to resurrect primitive Christianity, in his mind a necessary preparation for Christ’s second coming. And William Oughtred, the inventor of the symbol x and “the greatest mathematician of his day,” according to Christopher Hill, spent many hours hovering over the Book of Revelation, trying to decipher the date of Christ’s return. So did other mathematicians, such as John Pell and Robert Boyle.

But of all the English commentators on Revelation (King James I included), Joseph Mede—botanist, anatomist, mathematician, astronomer, pre-cursor of Cambridge Platonism, and tutor of Milton—wielded the greatest influence through his Clavis Apocalyptic (1627). The relevance of this work so intrigued a committee of the British House of Commons during the English Civil Wars that they ordered it to be translated in 1643 under virtually official auspices. In fact, to Thomas Twisse, the Presbyterian divine and prolocutor of Parliament’s Assembly of Divines, the merging of expanding scientific knowledge and an expanding world by means of navigation and commerce were harbingers of the millennium. And Roger Bacon’s assertion that modern science contained the seeds for the eventual flowering of the millennium was shared by many Englishmen; they felt that both science and biblical prophecy were supplemental ways of getting to know God and his plans, purposes, and lessons for mankind.

The significance of all this is that millennialism, defined as a belief in and quest for an imminent period of total, ultimate, collective salvation and peace, has not been the preserve of fringe groups in history, but has pervaded the spirit of many ages and many leaders, both spiritual and secular. And although evangelical Christians cannot share Friedrich Engels’s estimation of the Revelation of Saint John as “worth more than all the rest of the New Testament put together,” we ought at least to be aware of the immense historical importance attached to this reportedly “least read book in the New Testament” and to the entire subject of millennialism.

George M. Marsden is associate professor of history at Calvin College, Grand Rapids, Michigan. He has the Ph.D. (Yale University) and has written “The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian Experience.”

On May 12 the Swiss physician and counselor Paul Tournier celebrates his seventy-fifth birthday. Widely known because of his fifteen practical and jargon-free books on psychology and Christianity, Tournier recently published another that bears the interesting title Learn to Grow Old. This is essentially an autobiography in which he describes his present life, analyzes the problems of old people, reaffirms his Christian commitment, and tells something of his past.

Tournier was born in Geneva, the son of a pastor who served for many years at St. Peter’s Cathedral, where Calvin had preached and taught three centuries earlier. Although he learned about Calvinistic theology as a young boy and committed his life to Christ after hearing an evangelistic sermon when he was eleven, Tournier grew up as a lonely orphan who had very little interest in spiritual matters. As a young man he read the Institutes and was involved in church work, but his religion was cold, impersonal, and not very satisfying.

Then in 1932, several years after his graduation from medical school, Tournier went to a meeting of the Oxford Group and learned both to talk with others about his insecurities and to spend an hour every day in quiet meditation before God. Slowly the young doctor’s aloofness toward people began to change. He started treating his patients as persons rather than as cases, and within a few years he had become a respected counselor, though he had never aspired to this kind of work and had never taken a formal course in psychiatry or psychology.

As his life work changed, Tournier began to keep a record of his experiences and observations, and this record formed the basis of his first book. Friends urged him not to publish the manuscript, and he had some difficulty finding a publisher; but when The Healing of Persons finally appeared in French shortly before World War II, it was well received and went on to become probably the most popular and widely read of Tournier’s writings.

Approaching seventy-five, Tournier has been alert, perceptive, witty, and deeply interested in people. He is a humble man with a strong Christian commitment, and he seems both surprised and embarrassed by the acclaim that comes his way. A sensitive person himself, he makes a real effort to avoid disappointing or harming anyone. He shows great tolerance in his dealings with people and a willingness to accept all persons as equal.

Tournier is not without his critics, however, and his books have aroused condemnation as well as admiration. The very characteristics that make Tournier’s writing style so attractive to many of his followers—lack of technical jargon, practicality, non-systematic format, abundance of case histories, frequent references to himself—cause others, including many professional counselors, to dismiss him as an eccentric physician who writes rambling books about an unworkable religion. Some still criticize Tournier for his lack of psychiatric training, though he is well read in the psychological literature. Despite his lack of training, his writings now appear in eleven languages and have influenced literally thousands of people. So perceptively does Tournier analyze the needs of modern man that few can read his books without finding themselves and their problems discussed somewhere.

Tournier’s success as a counselor and writer has resulted, at least in part, from characteristics he has developed over the years. Psychological research has shown that counseling effectiveness depends more on what the counselor is than on what he does, and people who know Paul Tournier realize that he is an unusual man. His life radiates:

a deep concern for other people;

a willingness to listen patiently to others, without jumping to premature conclusions;

an intense desire to yield himself completely to God and to seek divine leading in everything he does;

a respect for the Scriptures and a continual effort to understand how the Word of God can have a practical relevance for one’s daily and professional life;

a concern for society’s ills accompanied by a conviction that the elimination of social injustice requires a transformation of individual men;

a healthful respect for science, but a respect tempered by the realization that science alone cannot understand and change the universe or mankind;

a bold willingness to give witness to what he believes and to urge others to submit to Christ;

an awesome awareness of the power of sin, the existence of the devil, and the divine influence of the Holy Spirit in men’s lives; and

an honesty about his own spiritual struggles.

Many of the people who read Tournier’s books and are helped by them wonder where this self-educated “psychologist” stands theologically. Tournier does little to shed light on this question. He avoids using theological jargon that might give a clue to his position. He claims to know nothing about theology, and apart from calling himself a Calvinist he does not align himself with any theological camp. He knew Brunner in the Oxford Group, was greatly influenced by Buber, has long admired the writings of Barth, and greatly respects the ministry of Billy Graham, but he would not closely align himself with any of these men.

In his books, articles, and lectures, Tournier often stresses the importance of the Bible, the sinfulness of man, and the substitutionary atonement of Christ. A strong believer in the sovereignty of God, he also believes that God forgives, loves unconditionally, and is personally interested in even the smallest details of our lives. He wants social change but believes that this can come only after individual men first yield their lives to Christ. Becoming a Christian does not free men from all the trials and anxieties of life, Tournier believes, but commitment to Christ does give them a new purpose and enables them to experience life as an “adventure.”

Despite these orthodox views, Tournier’s informal and non-systematic theology has elements that would raise questions for those who maintain a high view of Scripture. He describes himself as having “a personal evangelistic faith completely subject to the authority of the Bible” (The Person Reborn, p. 98), but he never says whether this biblical authority is the Word of God or whether it merely contains God’s Word. Quite probably a distinction like this has never occurred to him. It is also difficult to determine whether Tournier identifies all of the Bible as true and historical or thinks that accounts of such events as the expulsion from Eden and the tribulations of Job are poetic myths that teach us about God but are not to be taken literally (Guilt and Grace, p. 212; A Place For You, p. 50). Questions like these are important for theologians, but apparently they do not concern Tournier very much. He describes himself as a layman who knows nothing about theology and is primarily interested in discovering how the Bible can give practical answers to the problems of men.

In Guilt and Grace there is evidence that Tournier is a universalist who thinks that evangelism consists of telling men they have all been redeemed already. “I don’t know if hell exists,” he said during one of my recent conversations with him. “I much prefer to stress God’s love and forgiveness rather than God’s wrath.” It is easy to understand why a sensitive counselor would want to shy away from a theological issue that stimulates despondency and fear in emotionally troubled people. Surely it would be better, however, if Tournier could acknowledge the reality of divine punishment and then set this alongside the parallel truth that a living God has provided a way for men to be liberated from their sin and freed from the reality of a future hell.

Tournier states his convictions with boldness, but when he disagrees with someone he is never cynical or vindictive. When the Oxford Group changed its name and emphasis to become Moral Rearmament following World War II, Tournier felt he had to resign even though he was widely criticized for his decision. Later he established an informal group for the study of medicine and theology, a group that still holds annual conferences in Europe. Tournier likes to think of this as one of the first examples of ecumenical cooperation. Although he is still an active member of the Calvinistic “National Protestant Church of Geneva,” he nevertheless enjoys contact with Catholics, Muslims, Seventh-day Adventists, and other non-Calvinists. Regrettably, however, Tournier has bent over backward to cooperate with those who hold non-biblical views. His extreme tolerance of the opinions of others coupled with his vagueness on some important theological issues has led people from a variety of religious backgrounds to claim that Tournier is at one with them. Tournier himself makes no comment.

Only the most devoted followers of a prolific writer like Tournier could agree with everything he writes, but this should in no way be allowed to distract from appreciation of his wisdom, the depth of his understanding, and his influence in the lives of innumerable people around the world. Paul Tournier is the bestknown and most widely respected of Christian counselors. The example of his own life and the practical insights that radiate from his books will continue to encourage and help people all over the world, long after he puts down his pen for the last time.

At seventy-five, Tournier can look back on a life that has been rich and productive, but he also looks forward to a better life that is yet to come. “In my childhood,” he once wrote,

I had already come to know God, quite naïvely, of course; nevertheless, I thank God for those who led me to him. Yet it took a revolutionary experience in order for this knowledge to go beyond the abstract nature of a few ideas about God, however right those ideas might have been. I had to meet him in the full activity of adulthood, through dialogue with inspired men. They put my life, my home, and my medical work, under the light of God. Ever since, Jesus Christ has become my unseen companion of every day, the witness of all my successes and all my failures, the confidant of my rejoicings and my times of sadness. It is in this life shared with him that the knowledge of God is continuously strengthened and sharpened. All that I can hope, when my time for action will be over, is that I may yet go further in the riches of this knowledge. Doubtless, the abundance of life is not attained here below. Yet it begins here.… I know that beyond the winter of death I shall see God face to face, and understand fully, even as I have been fully understood, from before my birth [The Seasons of Life, p. 62].

George M. Marsden is associate professor of history at Calvin College, Grand Rapids, Michigan. He has the Ph.D. (Yale University) and has written “The Evangelical Mind and the New School Presbyterian Experience.”